Authors: Marie Pinkerton
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Medieval, #Time Travel, #Historical Romance
“Sure.
Tony, take over for me, will you?”
The big man replaced his big brother.
Eddie followed me up the stairs,
and drummed my butt as he went.
“Damnit, don't,” I hissed, jumping
up the stairs to avoid him.
“I'll
be in the bedroom in a sec.”
I rummaged through the upstairs
bathroom, finally finding what I needed, and went into Eddie's bedroom.
He was sitting on the edge of the king
sized bed waiting for me, and I handed him the tweezers and rubbing alcohol and
locked the door behind me.
I wasted
no time in stripping off my jeans and panties.
“Um, Schroeder?”
“I got splinters, damn you.”
I laid myself over his knees, butt
angled up.
“What is your deal with
wood and sharp objects?
I'm the one
having hay poking into various parts of my anatomy.
Was having bark embedded in my back enough?
Nooo, you have to put me on a workbench
that you
knew
was covered in wood,” I
ranted.
I turned to look at
him.
“Will you get this over with
already?”
Eddie put his head back and
laughed.
“Sorry, babe, wasn't
expecting this.”
“That makes two of us,” I
grumbled.
“Ow!”
I wiggled as Eddie extracted a splinter.
“Stay still.
How many do you have?”
“I don't know.
Ow!
At least two.”
I bit my lip
as Eddie continued to find and remove splinters.
“You know, this was not how I was
dreaming going over your knee again.”
“Quit wiggling, already.
And you were dreaming about this?”
“Well it hurts, damn it.
And yes, but not like this.”
I squirmed again as Eddie ran his
fingers across both cheeks, trying to find any splinters left.
He sighed and clamped his left arm
around my waist, securing me to him.
“Oh, don't tell me this is turning you on?” I asked exasperated, feeling
him rock hard next to me.
“You throw your naked ass across my
lap and start squirming, and don't expect me to react?
Be realistic.
I don't feel any more splinters, do
you?”
I shook my head, and he helped me
stand back up.
I reached for our
bags so I could get some clothes without splinters in them, but Eddie grabbed
my wrist and pulled me back to me.
“Where are you going?
We're
not done here.”
I looked pointedly down at his
erection.
“Not with your family
downstairs.”
“So let's go.”
He already had my left hand in his, and
grabbed the ring.
“Our house in
London.”
My thoughts flashed to the
furnished cottage, and Eddie took advantage of my automatically thinking of it
when he mentioned it to do the same, and pushed the ring back on my finger.
The world shifted, and I barely had
time to notice that we were back in London at our
townhome before Eddie, now seated on the
wool stuffed mattress that cost as much as the house, pulled me back over his
lap.
“Eddie!
What the hell are we doing here?”
Eddie had the good grace to sound
abashed.
“I kinda wanted you.”
“I thought you had said that guys
could restrain themselves.
We
weren't going to travel more than once a day, remember?”
He rubbed his hand in circles on my
back, starting to massage my tense muscles.
“Eddie.”
“We're here, we might as well take
advantage of it.”
“Of me, you mean?”
He flipped me over and gathered my
nakedness in his arms, and looked deeply into my eyes.
“Do you think I'm trying to take
advantage of you?”
I didn't say anything, but
considered.
I could have used the
ring at any time to go back to our time.
That was one thing I was always glad for – I had control of when
we returned.
If I was ever in a
situation or activity that I didn't like, I could slip the ring off of my
finger and return us both home.
If
I didn't want to be here with him, and yes, be vulnerable and at his mercy, I
didn't have to be.
But I wanted to,
darn him.
He turned me on.
His caring, concern, worry, and love for
me made me glad to give my body to him in lovemaking, and I saw what we were
about to proceed with was just foreplay, and if the last time was any
indication, foreplay that would lead to mindblowing sex.
“Schroeder?”
I looked back into his dark
eyes.
I wanted him.
Just thinking of being over his lap
again was setting my body tingling.
The velvet of his clothing was so soft against my skin that it was
turning me on even more.
I didn't
answer him, but reached a hand up and ran my fingers through his hair, pulling
him down to my waiting mouth.
My
lips separated, and tongues darted to meet.
Eddie ran a hand down my back and played
with the curves at the top of my bottom.
Yes, I wanted this.
I
nodded, and Eddie flipped me back over.
He continued the massage he started
earlier, gradually moving his hands down my back, soothing sore and tense
muscles.
As I relaxed under him, he
moved his strong fingers to massage my buttocks, which tensed again.
“Just relax, love,” he whispered, and I
let myself be carried away with the sensations.
He moved down to my upper thighs,
deliberately skipping the one place I wanted him to touch.
I arched my back, trying to get his
fingers where I wanted them.
“I'll get there,” he chastised me,
and gave me a feather light spank on one cheek, causing me to shudder in
delight.
He did a similar one on
the other cheek, and started alternating rubbing circles and doing light
spanks.
“You doing good?”
I nodded vigorously and wiggled my
hips against him, making sure he was enjoying himself as well.
From the feel of things, he sure
was.
He increased the severity of
the swats from barely being there to being a slight sting, and I moaned and
arched my back, giving him a better target.
He took the hint and dived his fingers
into my warm folds, now alternating between stroking me and spanking me.
My hips were confused; they wanted
to grind against his leg, and yet they also wanted to lift to meet his
hand.
Eddie solved my dilemma by
moving me onto the bed, separating my legs, and entering me in one hard
thrust.
I screamed as I orgasmed,
wrapping my arms around him so he wouldn't move.
When the tremors stopped, he started
moving in me slowly.
I had no strength
to hold him, and flopped my arms back on the bed and grabbed hold of the covers
for round two.
Eddie leaned on his elbows, his
fingers running through my hair.
He
lowered his mouth onto mine, and I eagerly accepted his tongue into my mouth as
I accepted him into my depths.
Suddenly I sucked on his tongue, and he gasped as he came deep inside
me.
He collapsed on his side, and
rolled over so I was on top.
“Wow, that was... wonderful,” I
breathed.
He ran his hands down my
back and caressed my warmed bottom.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.
I'd thank you, but I don't have the
energy yet.”
Eddie massaged gently.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Not in the least,” I assured
him.
“You give me a harder spank
over jeans in public.”
His fingers
wandered further below.
“Mmmm.
This was... sensual.
Erotic.” I kissed him, his fingers
having lit a fire of renewed energy.
“Very erotic.”
I slid my body down his, and
introduced a certain part of his anatomy to my warm, wet mouth.
He was shouting his pleasure not too
long after that.
We climbed under the covers and
cuddled for a while, snoozing and chatting.
“Was it as good for you as it was for
me?” I finally asked him, pretty sure I knew the answer.
“Oh yeah, babe.
You're not sore?”
He threw back the sheets to see if I was
still pink.
“Hey!
It's cold in here,” I protested, pulling
them back up after he had done his inspection.
“And you're never going to believe I'm
fine, are you?”
“Nope.”
His eyes crinkled with his grin, and he
gave me a quick kiss.
“You're fine,
by the way.”
“Told you so.
I didn't even feel it five minutes
later.”
“Five minutes later you were
otherwise engaged.”
I whapped him on his butt.
“You know what I mean.
Shall we head home?”
Chapter Eleven
The rest of our visit with Eddie's
family went smoothly, giving me a taste of what a real family was like.
The difference between my parents and
his was sobering, and did make me question visiting mine again anytime soon.
I was eager, however, to visit the
past again.
We gave “traveling” a
day off to cover our two trips in one day, but traveled as soon as we awoke the
following day.
Arriving in Elizabethan times in
our own house was sooo much nicer, and less stressful, than aiming for a dark
alley.
At a minimum, I knew I would
be landing on Persian rugs (from Persia itself, no less) and not chamber pot
contents.
We were able to keep our
“historical” clothing in the cottage, and could travel back in our normal
clothing.
That made life a ton
easier.
Eddie unlocked the cottage door and
opened it a crack so we could see when Henry walked by.
It was typical English weather outside
– fog settled around the buildings, giving them a blurred, soft
focus.
It looked like the street
scene paintings I had seen in museums.
This was the England I had envisioned.
Ten minutes later Henry strolled by
on his way to work.
We waited for
him to pass us, then left and locked the door behind us.
The drizzle immediately coated us with a
fine layer of moistness, and I could feel my hair already starting to curl in
the humidity.
The fog made us follow Henry closer
than usual, and we bumped and jostled our way through the crowded street.
As we crossed Cheapside, the moment we
had been waiting for happened.
It was over in a millisecond.
Henry was like the rest of us,
slipping in the mud on the street.
His feet slid, and
combined with the person next to
him stumbling into Henry, Henry was poised to fall head first
directly in front of a horse drawn
carriage.
Eddie shot out an arm to grab Henry
by the elbow, pulling him back and helping Henry regain his balance.
The large hooves of the passing horses
reminded me of Clydesdale's feet, and I could instantly see how Henry's head
would have been crushed under the horse's weight if we hadn't been there.
I took Henry's other arm, and Eddie
and I walked the shaking man into a nearby tavern, and sat him down at a
table.
Henry ran his hands through
his hair, and stared at them, fascinated by their visible tremor.
“I...I could have died.”
I bit my tongue, not saying that he was
supposed to have died.
“You saved
my life.”
Eddie clapped a hand on Henry's
shoulder.
“Happy to help,
mate.”
He gestured the barmaid
over, and asked for ale for himself and Henry, and wine for me after inquiring.
I didn't mind modern beer, but had no
idea what the stuff back here was like.
Wine seemed like a safe(r) option, even if it was way too early in the
day for me to normally consider drinking.
Henry chugged two pints of ale
before I got up the guts to try my wine.
I blinked in surprise after the first sip – it was a decent
burgundy.
I'd gotten worse wine in
Dallas.
For as quick as the near-death
experience was, Henry dwelled on it.
He claimed his life passed before his eyes, twice.
I wondered if that was more a testament
to his life than to the severity.
Yes, I knew he was supposed to die, and I wasn't trying to discount
that.
But when you think about it,
life was full of close calls.
After several hours and way to much
ale, Henry had decided to go back home to his father's village.
We walked him back to his house (mainly
because there was no way he could walk under his own power), went to our
cottage, and returned home.
After talking about it, and talking
about it, and talking some more, Eddie and I decided that I would quit in
person.
Because it was my safety I
was concerned with, I wasn't giving two weeks notice.
Eddie checked with his lawyer, and Texas
was a right-to-work state – it wasn't required for me to give two weeks
notice.
I felt bad about not, but
Eddie wasn't so nice about pointing out that they didn't deserve it.
“Quite frankly,” he said as we were
going up in the elevator Friday morning, “if I knew then what I know now, I
wouldn't have given my recommendation on the technical end.”
“Nothing you know now would change
anything,” I insisted for the hundredth time.
“You have insider information.
If you go with what's on paper,
everything is fine.”
“And my due diligence includes
talking to everyone.
If I had asked
the right questions, it would have come up.”
“And I don't think it would
have.
You would have passed us, and
even if you didn't give a glowing review, Kinerian hasn't shown a propensity
for listening to you, anyway.”
He scowled.
“Which also doesn't please me.”
“Hey, I got my money, and we're
done.”
I raised up on my tiptoes to
kiss him on his cheek.
“We talk to
Joseph and clean out my desk, and I never have to come back here.
Ever.”
“Let's get this over with,” Eddie
sighed, and followed me onto their floor.
Joseph was surprised to see Eddie
with me.
“I thought once the buyout
was finalized, you wouldn't be here any more?”
“I'm not here as a consultant
today, sir, I'm here as protector.”
“Husband?”
“Oh.”
Joseph sat back in his chair.
“Who do you need to be protecting?
Alan is in jail.
They set bond at some high amount
– two hundred grand, or something.
He's not going anywhere.”
Eddie reached a hand out to me, and
I gladly took it.
This was why I
wanted him there – I knew Joseph was going to try to strong-arm me.
“Joseph, with all due respect, it's
been a rough term working here.
The
stuff with Alan was just the last straw.
I can't do it anymore.
I
don't feel safe here.”
“Are you accusing me of having an
unsafe work environment?
We've made
several accommodations for you recently.
We've fired Alan.
We gave you
an enormous raise, and a sizable compensation for wage disparity.
You just received a fair amount from
stock options yesterday.
What are
you trying to get now?”
“Just my leave, sir, that's
all.
I quit, effective
immediately.
I will take my
personal belongings with me.
I do
not want anyone at the company contacting me.
I will ensure that Human Resources has
my lawyer's information – any and all contact to me needs to be routed
through him.
I will not take the
chance that Alan will use someone else here to get my information.”
Joseph was red-faced with the
accusation.
“If you have grounds
for that--”
“If I did, I'd be suing you.
As it
is, I'm not.
I'm sorry for not
being able to give two weeks notice.
Under normal circumstances, I would.
But I simply don't feel safe here, and
nothing you can say will convince me otherwise.”
I rose, and Eddie followed suit.
“Up until recently, it has been fun
working here.
Thank you for all the
opportunities you have given me.”
Wes left the office without another
word, and Joseph didn't say anything back.
I gripped Eddie's hand tightly as
we walked to my office.
“Steady,
we're almost out of here.
Just a
little bit longer.
Once we leave,
then you can lose it, okay?”
I didn't look at him, knowing I'd
break down then if I did.
My few
photos and books were easily slid into the bag Eddie had brought, and I tied
the sweatshirt I had stolen from Eddie around my waist.
“Heh, good thing I didn't store
personal information on my computer.
It's the FBI's, now.”
“Anything else, then?”
I looked around, sad to see a lack
of anything personal in the office.
This never really was home.
I had never personalized it.
That, more than anything, told me volumes about what I really felt about
the job over the years.
“Nope.
Let's go home.
To New York.”
It was right at lunchtime, and the
elevator was crowded with employees going on break.
I looked at them, and realized that
other than Dylan and Matt, there wasn't even anyone I wanted to say goodbye to.
Dylan was home on bed rest, and I said
goodbye to her on the phone the night before.
Matt I hadn't seen, so I didn't know if
I would get a chance to say goodbye.
I paused outside the building, glad
it was the last time I'd have to be there.
I turned to ask Eddie where he wanted
to go for lunch when a shout rang out.
“He's got a gun!”
I looked around the parking lot,
and met the angry, insane gaze of Alan.
Time crawled as I realized that he held a handgun, and was slowly
raising it to eye level.
Now I knew
how Henry had felt.
I felt the
impact of Eddie pushing me to the ground at the same time I heard the gun go
off, and turned to see crimson appearing on my husband's shirt as he crumpled
to the ground on top of me.
"Eddie!"
I screamed, and pressed my hands over
his shoulder.
Alan was striding
over towards us, gun still out.
I
grabbed Eddie's hand in my bloody hands, and made him grab the ring.
"Our house in London.
Come on baby, please," I begged,
and together we slid the ring on and slid back in time.
"I'm okay, Schroeder, calm
down."
"No you're not," I
sobbed, watching the blood pool on the Persian rug.
"He shot you.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
He shot you, oh my God."
"It doesn't hurt, I'm
okay."
He tried to sit up, but
I pushed him back down with me hands on the wound.
"You've been shot.
Oh damn.
Fuck.
Shit.
And now we're back with crappy medicine.
Oh my God."
I started to hyperventilate, and looked
down at my husband's face.
My
husband's face, that was infinitely more calm than mine.
Oh God, and he's the one that's been
shot.
Control yourself, Schroeder,
I ordered myself.
Get it
together.
You're the closest thing
he has to a real doctor.
"Oh
God," I moaned.
I took some deep breaths, trying to
calm my breathing.
"Okay.
Okay. Um, we should move you to the bed.
I'm sorry, but you're heavy -- I'm going
to need you to help.
No!
Go slow, damn it."
He hauled himself up to his feet without
my aid, but fell heavily on the mattress.
I shoved his feet up and onto the bed.
"Um, bandages.
We have clean cloth.
Somewhere.
Stay there," I ordered him,
pointing a shaking, bloody finger at him.
Blood smeared on all the cabinets
in the room as I frantically searched for the stack of cloth I knew was here
somewhere.
I finally found them
buried in a drawer, and brought the clean fabric over.
I folded the cloth up, and pressed it
against the entry and exit wounds.
"Can you hold it here, baby?
Eddie?
I need to get
stuff.
Water, disinfectant, oh God,
I don't know what else."
Eddie grabbed my chin
carefully.
"Calm down.
It's going to be okay.
You have to stay calm, do you hear
me?
If you freak out, you're going
to make me freak out, and that's the last thing I need to do right now,
understand?"
I nodded my understanding, tears
flowing.
"I'm sorry.
It's just -- oh God, he shot you.
Okay, deep breaths."
I wiped my hands off on one of the
cloths, and focused my brain by running around the house.
Water was on to boil on the hearth, and
the iodine I'd brought back in the travel pack were located.
I dragged a small table to the bed and
laid out everything I thought I would need.
The water was boiling when I got
everything else together, and I gingerly carried it over to the table.