WANTED (A Transported Through Time book) (21 page)

Do what? Samantha couldn’t speak the question, though she knew it showed on her face.

“Say good-bye.”

She shook her head “no” before he finished the short phrase that might as well have been a long sword. It hurt as much as one.

“No,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be good-bye.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “You can come with me.”

He quirked one brow. “Come with you?”

Samantha sat up the rest of the way, nodding. “Yes. I brought enough for both of us. I don’t know what’s in the whiskey, but my father left it for me, and it’s how I got here.” She pushed past him to get off the bed.

“Lay down,” he said in a tone that bore no argument.

“But Jesse, I have to get the mug.”

He shook his head, and she realized he meant it.

“I’ll get whatever you need. You hit your head hard enough to knock you out, and I can’t have you moving until a doctor sees to it.”

Samantha let him lay her back down. “I must have dropped it when I fell. Look on the porch. It’s a plastic travel mug.”

He frowned, confusion in his expression.

“It’s blue and silver. A cup with a handle and a lid on it.” Excitement bubbled up inside her, and she had difficulty staying put.

Jesse nodded curtly and left to retrieve the mug. She prayed for it to please be safe, but couldn’t help the horrid images that emerged of what could have befallen her cup of time-travel tonic. It had to be safe.

She was meant for him.

That meant he had to come back with her. It was the only way. Once he found the mug, she could convince him to come with her.

Yes, it would be a difficult transition. Probably harder for him in a lot of ways than it would be for her to stay here. Technology was difficult to wrap one’s head around even in her time, let alone when it’s condensed for massive and rapid consumption.

Oh, but she would get to show him so much. A car. A fast car. Television. The first man landing on the moon.

Samantha sat up, Jesse’s warning forgotten. She strained to peer around the corner, through the doorway, to catch a glimpse of him coming back in.

“Blue and silver,” he called.

A trill of anticipation ran down her throat. “Yes. A cup with a lid on it. Don’t take off the lid, just bring it to me. Please.”

His footsteps plunked up and down the wood porch, paused, scuffed. They entered the home and exited it, dragging something out. Samantha chewed her lower lip. He should have found the travel mug by now. Blue and silver. Samantha pictured it rolling off the porch and onto the grass, falling behind a step, between two slats.

She listened and peered.

She heard him walking about, looking. It shouldn’t be so difficult to find. Each minute ticking away felt more and more like a pendulum in the pit of her stomach, slicing her hopes and revealing her fears.

But she’d saved him. He wouldn’t be murdered by his partners. She’d stopped that. He was her destiny.

The mug had to have made it through the fall.

She’d dropped it at the point of impact. That was all.

Jesse’s boots hit each stair, down and back up. Slowly, he stepped back into the house and toward her. Samantha crossed her fingers and closed her eyes. The way he walked told her the awful truth.

When he stopped in front of her, she forced her eyes open. No sense living in denial.

Jesse held the mug open so she could see. Empty. Not even a drip of a drop was left?

“No,” Samantha said, the air in her lungs whooshing out on the word. “No. No, no, no ... Jesse.” He blinked and looked at her with confusion and empathy.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She could see he truly was. Even though he couldn’t really know what she’d lost at the sight of the empty mug. Why had she put the last of the whiskey in it? Why hadn’t she left some behind in present time? Idiot! Now, she’d lose him forever.

At any moment, she could leave him.

Samantha looked up at him. He came to her without being asked or motioned, as if he felt it too. The pull. The desperation almost like panic.

She couldn’t let their story end.

~~~

Chapter Nineteen

He didn’t know what she’d wanted with that mug, but he’d found it fast as dawn was breaking over the hillside. The blood and the shock had to wait. He’d kicked his betrayers onto the porch and shut the door against the world.

Jesse had never allowed himself to hope what she’d claimed was possible. So it didn’t crush him in the same way as her. Or maybe he’d come to the same conclusion sooner than she. He went to her, wanting to erase the pain in those big, blue eyes. Their color and emotion could swallow him up, and he’d be happy to drown and die there.

He couldn’t lose himself in her. Not when she would need a strong shoulder to cry on, steady arms to see her through, to hold her and soothe her. He had to be her anchor right now. Once he saw her safely gone, he would be on his own. Not until then.

He loved her. Lord, he actually did.

It was enough to feel grateful. He might not be able to live that love, with her, but he could carry it with him. It would sustain him.

Jesse wiped the single tear from her cheek. “Shhh. No crying, Sammie. You’re not gone yet.”

She buried her face in his shoulder, and he held her head against him. Fresh pain stabbed through him, mixed bittersweet with the new joy he’d only just recognized.

Sammie pulled back, her cheeks wet, her eyes shiny. “You probably won’t believe me, but ...” She sniffed. “I love you, Jesse.”

Jesse shook his head. “Believe you?” He let his heart lead his body. He couldn’t have her for the rest of his life, but by God, he would have every last ounce of her now. “Of course, I believe you.”

Sammie reached up, raked her hands into his hair. Shivers tickled down his back. His whole body ached, but it didn’t matter, as though the pain felt good, and her touch contrasted with it all the more.

“Sammie,” he said against her mouth as she pressed her lips hungrily onto his. “Sammie.”

She whimpered, and he kissed her more. Her lips were heaven itself, her desire already evident, above the desperation, below the heartache. Her short breaths and shaky hands told him what he did to her more than his own reaction could. So much had happened. Death had whispered in his ear and thanks to her, had walked on by. Jesse closed his eyes and reveled in the scent of her hair, in the feel of her limbs wrapped around him.

*

She pushed away all thought of leaving, of never seeing him again as long as she lived. Right now, right then, he was here with her, living and breathing, feeding her soul.

Never let go. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

She let the tears fall and mingle in their kiss, but cried not out of sorrow or regret. Gratitude and love welled up in her so fully it seemed to spill forth. She kissed him with everything she had, as if she could take a part of him with her. As if she could memorize the details enough to last forever.

When she stopped, his face looked tortured with want. His gaze pleaded with her for more. More contact, more heaven. Not just the physical. She could see he longed to make their final moments last.

He joined her on the bed. Slowly, he undressed her and then himself. He began to make sweet, slow love to her and each time her body touched his, she tried to make it last forever. Would it have been the same between them if they hadn’t savored each other so intensely? She would never know.

She would have only memories. The scent of him, the feel of his male skin, rough yet smooth under her fingertips. The way he looked at her, as if he worshipped her.

No man would ever compare with him, and that was okay. She didn’t want any to. If she couldn’t have him, she didn’t want anyone. She realized then, looking up at him as he pulled her close and their bodies slid against each other, that she really didn’t need anyone else.

Millions of couples probably felt love that didn’t come as close as perfect to this. She did. Maybe it was God’s way of balancing things. She wouldn’t get years, but her hours were more brilliant than most people’s years.

“Lord what you do to me, Sammie,” Jesse said, his voice thick and hard.

Samantha smiled. She loved it when he called her Sammie. She was his Sammie. Her dad had given her this. This is what her inheritance really was, and for it, she was grateful. Her father really did love her deeply, despite his seeming inability to show her.

Jesse cupped her face and brought her mouth to his, his breath hot and scented with mint. She breathed it in and slanted her mouth against his.

She and Jesse got diamonds where others had gold. The quality of the exquisite experiences they’d had together made up for the quantity.

What would she do if she could stay with him like this ... forever? What would she give up? Anything. Everything.

Staying wasn’t possible. She had no one to make that bargain with and had to trust in the fate that had brought him to her or, more precisely, her to him. She had to have faith in events and decisions beyond her control.

As he pushed, twirled, and caressed her inner workings, Samantha stroked him. The soft, gentle pleasure soon became a torrent of need. She let herself fall into the current and be swept into pure sensation.

She held him; she touched him. Her mouth devoured his taste. She pushed and pulled into the vortex, letting go of the past and the future and all her fears. He loved her. She could feel it, see it in every nuance of his face as his mastery ruled her.

He slipped another finger into her and pressed the heel of his palm to her clitoris. She held his cock tighter, moaning into his kiss. He moved her hand away.

“You can’t do that, Sammie, or it’ll be over before we’ve begun. Your touch feels too damned good.”

She smiled against his lips and obeyed his command, moving her hand to his shoulder, relishing the tight muscles’ contour. He was like a sculpture. Better.

Jesse pulled his fingers free, and she immediately mourned the loss. She pouted and moved her body after his retreating hand.

“Uh-uh,” he said in that low, sexy, breathy voice she swore could melt butter in winter. “My turn.”

He moved her flat onto her back and lowered himself to nestle between her legs. Oh, God, but he looked good there, and she knew he would deliver on the promise in his eyes. He spread her open with his thumbs and his tongue began a circular pattern ... outward and moving in. He wasn’t even there yet, and an inferno lit, growing where she anticipated him going. She pressed her head back and her hips up. She didn’t want to wait. She needed to feel it now, because her body was screaming for its explosion.

He stopped. Samantha looked at him. He continued with a devilish smile. Tit for tat. That was fine.

She pulled at the sheets and rose, chased his tongue, dying for him slip into her core and lap the flames to further depths.

He finally complied, with a pleasure so serious and sudden that her climax tore down her guard, and she leapt into it. As she rode his sweet tongue, her eyes closed. His hot mouth and teeth grazed her skin in the most erotic way. He didn’t pull away but pre
ssed onward as the spasms rocked
out of her.

As the last quake shuddered out, Jesse rose and climbed up her body with kisses.

Jesse’s eyes glowed, greener than grass on a summer day, and they spoke to her soul with possessive adoration. He would claim her. He would make her his for all time. Every thrust proved her interpretation accurate.

She savored the feeling of being undeniably taken. She was his. Spoiled for any other. Ruined yet secured, cherished, freed. All at once. Her body loved it. Within moments, another ring of ecstasy circled her walls.

As he watched her, his eyes glistened and remained fierce with determination. Within all that intensity, Samantha glimpsed a sheen of vulnerability. It broke her heart at his trying not to cry.

“I don’t want to say good-bye,” he said.

Samantha gasped. Not that she hadn’t realized it before, but seeing it there on his face touched her so truly and clearly. Never had she been so wanted in every way.

Wanted. In the most pure and basic and primal of ways.

“I love you, too, Sammie. I truly do.”

Jesse kissed her again, nibbling her lips, stoking the fire. Another climax sliced through her body, shooting starbursts and sparks of brilliant pleasure through her veins.

He throbbed in her. His eyes closed. He held his breath and arched his back, plummeting as deep as his shaft would reach. Though almost hurtful, she didn’t pull back, fascinated by what she did to him, and the waves of what he did to her washed down.

If they could have flown, they would have in that perfection. They would rise to heaven itself and float back down to earth like a leaf on a warm breeze.

Jesse opened his eyes, which were wet. He bent his head, kissed her, and a tear slid down against their cheeks.