Chasing Time

by Mia Downing

  “I don’t know. I feel like, all this time, he’s subtly made choices for me to get me to this point.” I liked the end results, but they weren’t necessarily my choices. “I can’t let him push me into going. I have to decide that for myself.”

  And that was my main issue, that I had no choice. I understood the dangers, that he couldn’t return without me. But I felt trapped and almost…used. Like he wanted this to save her. He kept saying he loved me, he had to do this to preserve a timeline that might affect me, but I didn’t believe him.

  Grace glanced away to the computer screen as if to gather her thoughts. She always came at things in a different way. She’d had her share of hardships and suffering already, and though in high school I’d envied her perfect life, I had come to see the foolishness in that. Everyone had baggage.

  Finally, she turned back to me with a gentle touch to the back of my hand. “What scares you the most about this?”

  I sighed as I voiced the truth I could admit. “I’m afraid of losing myself on this trip. Afraid of losing who I am. Terrified of becoming like this woman I didn’t even know.”

  Grace nodded. “That’s understandable that you’d worry about losing your identity. You’ve worked hard to become strong and independent, and you’ve changed a lot—in good ways—since meeting him. But have you voiced that concern to Marek?”

  “Sort of.”

  “And this trip… What happens when it’s all over?”

  “He said we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.”

  Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “You said he was a planner. That’s not much of a plan.”

  “No, it’s not, and that worries me. I don’t know if this trip will change things between us and if it will make things better or worse.” I sighed and decided to admit a little more of the truth. “And to top it all off, he believes in curses and weird stuff I don’t know if I believe in.”

  Grace’s brows shot up. “Okay. I didn’t see that coming.”

  “Neither did I.”

  After a few sips of her drink, Grace asked, “He’s not taking you to live in a cult, is he?”

  “No!” I laughed as I recalled the day at the other cemetery when I made the cult joke to Marek. “It’s nothing like that.” But a lot more dangerous. “I just want the chance to make the decision. Does that make sense?”

  “Absolutely. You’ve spent your whole life with no choices at all until you lived on your own. And maybe you see this situation with Marek as having no choice, too. But our lives aren’t that black and white when it comes to decisions. If you want to keep your job, you have no choice but to show up. If you want a degree, you must do the work. You have a choice in those matters, but if you want the desired outcome—a job, a degree—you don’t have a choice but to comply.”

  “That’s not fair. That’s—”

  “Real life?” she asked. “When is life fair?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Let’s forget the trip.” Sweeping her hand over the desk, she brushed that issue aside. “What do you want as a final outcome? Do you want the guy or not?”

  “I want a choice to want the guy.”

  She poked me again. “You’re being pig-headed. If you had a choice…would you want him? Let’s say you had a room full of men to choose from, and he’s there, waiting. Wanting you. Do you choose him?”

  Clarity washed over me as my dear friend came so close to the reality of the issue without even knowing. She had gotten to choose him in a ceremony when she was sixteen. Or at least, he believed she had a choice in the matter.

  But I was never given an option. I wanted to make that choice, too. It seemed stupid and childish on some level. If I believed him, then the bond would always choose him. He was the only gifted male within centuries strong enough to handle my energy. But I needed to be able to make that decision for myself before I took the next step.

  I didn’t want the bond. I never had. I needed to live without it to see if I really wanted to choose him and take that next step.

  The sadness welled up inside me. Unsure what to do, I leaned over and hugged her. “Thank you.”

  “Hey, hon.” Surprised, she hugged me back. “So are you going?”

  “I have no clue. I think I need to step away from him for the week and see. You know, ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’ and all that.” My throat grew tight as I fought the tears.

  She sighed against my shoulder. “Well, make sure you tell Mr. Dexter today, just in case you decide to go. He’ll have to get Todd’s lazy ass out of bed to cover your shifts.”

  “Okay.” I had forgotten that I might need coverage for work. If I didn’t go… I mentally shuddered. I didn’t even want to think about it.

  Pulling away, she ducked a little to meet my gaze. “If you end up going on this trip, I deserve something really good for putting up with you.”

  “I’ll find you something really good.” If I went and made it back, I’d give her whatever she wanted.

  But I’d have to make a decision first.

  Skye

  That evening, I texted Marek to say I’d be over.

  As I drove, I berated myself for being a cold, heartless bitch for contemplating what I was considering. My discussion with Grace had brought all my emotions to a boiling point that I could no longer contain.

  When I’d said in January that I wished we weren’t bonded, I had meant it for many reasons, the first being the bond showed him too much. The idea of him discovering I might be falling for him terrified me. I had no clue what he’d do with that information. Love happened in fairy tales, not in my life.

  And though he could read my bond, I had no clue what his meant. I didn’t believe he loved me, because I didn’t see it on the bond. I mean, he treated me like a princess. No one had ever treated me this good. He was kind, affectionate, funny, and he was becoming a good friend. And he was definitely attracted to me, as I was to him. But the bond had remained that brilliant yellow since the beginning, only dimming to a dingy gray-yellow after we’d found the letters. It had brightened since then, but that didn’t mean he loved me.

  I didn’t need the bond. And honestly, I needed to know what it felt to be without it, so I could assess all I had—good and bad—because of it.

  I worried about what that would do to Marek. I didn’t want to destroy him entirely. She had partially broken it, and it had almost killed him to learn about it. How would he feel about me if I removed it entirely to test what it meant to be without it? Because to live with it, I had to accept it. And at this point, I couldn’t.

  I arrived at his house, parking in the back. With one hand in his front pocket, he met me at the kitchen door and let me in with a confused and worried glance.

  “You okay?” he asked as he noticed my tear-stained face. I’d been crying on and off since I got off work.

  I had an idea of what I wanted from him, but I didn’t want to talk about it. I placed a finger to his lips to silence him and pushed him inside the door, shutting it behind me. Without a backward glance, I brushed by him and went down the hall to the front stairs, knowing he followed me when his bare feet padded on the dark wood to the second floor.

  Inside his room, I glanced at his big bed to make sure it would fit my needs. It would. The tendrils of my control whirled on a single thread that could snap at any second, and I needed to take that back, starting here. I shut the door behind him with nervous fingers, summoning all the strength I had. Something deep inside said I needed this from him, maybe because the first time I’d seen the bond and repaired it had been when he had let me take control. I wasn’t sure.

  “Strip,” I said, my voice a little hoarse.

  “Are you sure you’re—”

  “I don’t want to talk. I want you naked. On the bed. Now.” There. That sounded sure. Definite, like a woman with the ability to make choices.

  His brows furrowed with deeper confusion. “Skye—”

  “Do you want me to leave?” I raised a br
ow.

  Shaking his head, his fingers went to his shirt to tug it over his head.

  “No. Unbutton it. Slowly.” I wanted to enjoy this just in case it was the last time. Who knew what lay in the cards?

  He cocked his head, the confusion giving way to something raw I couldn’t name as he slowly unbuttoned each button, his shirt falling open over his bare chest. Shrugging it off, he tossed it to the side, his arm muscles rippling slightly as he extended his hand to his side and let it fall. All that strength.

  I’d been shocked the first time I’d seen him naked that night so many months ago. I couldn’t believe then he was mine then or now. My mouth went dry, my nipples hardening with need.

  He seemed to get into it a little as he took his time to unbutton each button of his fly, sliding his jeans over his lean hips and muscular thighs. All that running had made his thighs firmer, leaner, but not too lean. With a flick of his foot, he chucked those with the shirt, leaving him in a deep-blue pair of boxer briefs with a growing erection.

  I gestured to his crotch, and he quirked a half-smile as he tugged at the waistband, dropping it inch by inch over his hard length, then his balls, and down his legs to finally join his jeans. My heart pounded as I took him in from the top of his scruffy head to his bare feet and back up again. Damn.

  I licked dry lips as I pointed behind him. “The bed. On your back.”

  He lowered himself to the edge of the bed and scooted up, his dick bobbing with every calculated push that got him closer to the top. Plopping down on the pillows, he waited for me with a welcoming smile.

  “Hands up and on the rails.”

  That smile faded.

  I didn’t want him to touch me. He tended to quickly turn the tables, and the sex would go where he wanted it to go. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I needed it to happen this way.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he placed one hand and then the other behind him on the decoratively carved rungs that lined the headboard. “Okay. Now what are you going to do with me?”

  “Screw you senseless.” To make my point, I lowered my barrier and allowed him access to the bond. I wanted to feel him, too. This would be the last time for that sensation for a bit, if ever. I needed to see it clearly to break it. And right now, everything was a jumbled mix of colors—his, mine, the green of ours.

  He watched me undress with a keen gaze, arching a brow in question as I finished and climbed on the bed. “Is the bond telling you that you need this?”

  I paused, confused. “Why would the bond care what kind of sex I have?”

  “The kinkier the sex, the better the after.”

  So that’s why he’d spanked me that one time. And the after had been so much stronger and sweeter. The man did like his sex on the dirtier side, though I wasn’t brave enough to go there sometimes. I didn’t want to think about what she would have done with him.

  “No, this is to teach you something.” I crawled up the bed and put a finger to his lips. “And you need to be quiet, or I’m gagging you.”

  “Kinky sex, better after,” he said with such glee that I glared.

  That also made me suspicious. “Has she done this to you before?”

  He didn’t answer, his lips pursed into a thin line.

  I sighed impatiently. “Answer.”

  “No.”

  “Good.” Satisfied, I lowered my head and kissed him, my tongue edging along the seam of his lips.

  Moaning, he opened his mouth, welcoming my tongue. I held back, kissing him slowly, decreasing the pressure of my lips until he stopped trying to get me to do what he wanted. Finally, he sagged on the bed and let me kiss him, tentatively following the lead of my lips and tongue. The power made me giddy, to have this gorgeous man follow my lead for a change, to have him quivering beneath me as he waited for my next touch.

  I kissed his neck the way he did mine, using my tongue to feather that sweet spot under his ear. Every muscle in his body tensed, and he sighed as I kissed my way over the neatly trimmed beard along his jaw. It had grown in soft, and I liked the way he used it to tickle my skin. With my fingers and mouth, I explored the muscles of his chest, the delectable dents of his abs, and followed that happy trail of dark hair down to his bobbing cock.

  I bypassed that, nipping his hip, licking the lean muscles of his thigh, down over his knees and calves. I scanned up his body as he shifted, his teeth biting his lower lip, his eyes closed. His breath came in shallow puffs, the rise and fall of his chest a sexy sight.

  “You okay?” I asked. I checked the bond and found him quite fine, the energy a brilliant yellow that begged to bleed green. “Answer with yes or no.”

  “Yes.”

  I brushed a fingertip over the head of his dick, and he jumped. “Horny?”

  “Yes.” He licked his lips. “Let me touch you. I can make this even better.”

  “I don’t choose to let you do that.”

  His eyes opened as he tucked his chin to see me better. His gaze finding me, his eyes narrowed. “So this is about choices?”

  “Shh.”

  “No, I won’t. You’re using sex to teach me how you don’t have choices. This has nothing to do with going with me.”

  “Doesn’t it? Because if I want you to live, I have no choice but to go. If I want you to return, I have no choice but to go. So right now, you have no choice but to lay there and take what I want to give you.” I pointed a finger at him when he shifted as if to roll away. “Move, and I take all your choices away. Right now.”

  He settled back on the pillows with a confused look on his face. The bond echoed that, though it didn’t change color at all. It still milled in bright-yellow excitement.

  “Fine,” he muttered.

  I kissed my way up to his dick and planted a kiss near the base, so close to his shaft without touching him. I let my breath heat the underside with a warm puff, and he shuddered again. I bent and kissed his knee while my fingers skated a circle around his throbbing erection, careful not to touch anywhere he wanted.

  “Fuck, Skye.” His belly trembled.

  “Nope.”

  “Please.” He moaned. “I can’t take much more.”

  “You can and will.” Wow, I could be mean when I wanted. I liked this new Skye.

  But I also wanted to taste him. I adored his body, and though sucking dick was something I’d learned to do to avoid putting out over the years, I enjoyed giving Marek pleasure. I loved the way he moaned and wriggled as if he’d never had someone worship that appendage. She’d never finished him off. I had, and he liked it.

  Testing the waters, I gave the underside of his shaft a long lick from base to tip. Eyes closed, he gave a sharp intake of breath, holding it as my tongue rimmed his crown.

  “You like that?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Open your eyes.”

  Hooded, dark-blue eyes met mine, the exquisite torture evident in the taut lines of his face. To reward him, I took the head in, swirling my tongue as I held his gaze, slowly swallowing him inch by glorious inch.

  His breath whooshed, and his hands released to find my hair, sinking in to massage my scalp. “Sweetness.”

  I popped off his dick with a glare. “Hands?”

  “For Fate’s sake, Skye—”

  “Are you executing your choice or mine?”

  “Mine,” he rumbled as he removed his hands and put them back on the bed. “But you like it.”

  I did. Too much. I loved his hands in my hair, urging me on, then dragging me up for a heated kiss when he could stand no more. Usually, he’d roll on top of me and thrust home, my aching sex more than welcome to have him.

  “My choices,” I whispered, ignoring the throbbing of my clit as I dropped my mouth to his dick.

  I focused on the bond this time. He could read mine so well, and I needed to study it to know how to break it. His bond always blazed yellow during sex, but little spots of green edged closer to where our energies met. I could never tell if those were h
is speckles of color, or if the color blossomed from a merging of our energies. The green had a suspicious tinge to it as if the base blue were more teal than dark blue. I sucked harder, my tongue lashing the head, and the green spots multiplied and intensified.

  “Stop.” He arched his back, trying to wrestle his cock from my mouth. It only served to drive him deeper. “Please. I want to come in you.”

  I sucked harder just to be a bitch. He moaned, his energy teetering on the edge. I released him, my hand pumping his length in lazy strokes that kept the intensity of his energy stoked. “But what do I want, Marek?”

  “I don’t know,” he muttered. “If you would just tell me, I’d give you that.”

  “Would you? Is that so you can come, or because of some other reason?”

  “I love you. I want to come, but that’s secondary.”

  “Ah.” The sweet ache around my heart intensified, and I closed my eyes on the pain. I wanted to buy into that lie so badly.

  “Fates, you still don’t believe I love you?” He sounded incredulous, as if I’d always believed him and this was news to him. I didn’t see a change in the bond, but maybe reading mine was part of his gift. I could locate him if I wanted. Maybe he could read my energy better.

  I cocked my head as I continued to stroke him. “No, not really.”

  “How can I not love you? You’re brilliant and beautiful, and you’re giving me the best hand job.” He bit his lip in agony, and I released his shaft. “Fuck it, just let me come.”

  I sighed. I wanted him. My clit throbbed, and I don’t think I’d ever been wetter. My nipples ached to be kissed and licked and nibbled. I wanted him to drive home so hard into my sex that I saw Christmas on Easter and welcomed the rapture of both.

  Instead, I inched up his chest, dragging my sex over his hard length, gathering the slickness needed to finish the job. When I got to the tip, I used my hand to swirl the head around my entrance, bobbing just a little to suck in only the tip. Usually, he’d meet me halfway and buck his hips so I would slide down with ease. He remained still, though, his muscles hard and straining under me.