Glimpse Time Travel: Enemy Of Mine Part 31

"I love it."

"You'd love an idiotic, mumbling man?"

She laughed and shook her head. "You're the furthest thing from that."

He swallowed, feeling her compliment pour through him like sunshine. "And what's the date?"

She told him.

He smiled. "Lord, I wasn't too sure where I was when I woke. Why weren't you in bed with me?"

"I slept on the couch." She stopped kissing and stared into his eyes, already straddling him, which got him a bit more excited than he probably should have been. "It's really you."

He smiled and nodded. "Yes, the muses needed to give me some time to learn just a tad about your time and to tutor me."

"Tutor you?"

He gripped her hips, settling her lower against his growing groin. "I'm a psychiatrist, can you believe that? My specialty is schizophrenia."

She blinked rapidly. "That's...congratulations! That's so wonderful. It's exactly what you wanted."

He sat up a little with the use of his elbows behind him, which rubbed Erva right over his erection. Smiling even more at that, he said, "Well, not exactly, darling. You see, I'm here at Harvard to study neurology, since I'd like to understand both the mind and the brain. That's how we met, by the by, was here, where I just happen to be studying. I was lost on campus, but you helped me find my way. At least, that's what the muses suggested we tell people about how we met. They won't believe me if I tell them I'm more than two hundred sixty years old. Go figure."

She chuckled loudly. "You just said go figure."

"I've tried to learn many idioms, but Urania, my tutor, was a little worried they might be dated. As well as the music I tried to learn. I couldn't keep up with the constant changes."

"Where did you leave off?"

"In 1913, there was a Jazz musician I really liked."

She giggled again. "You only have a little over a century of music to learn."

"Is that all?" He loved the way she teased him, and rolled her over on the bed, pinning her under him.

She let out a soft breath, her lids fell half-mast.

"Did you miss me?"

Her amber eyes widened and moisture pooled instantly. "I thought you were dea-" She never finished the word.

"Oh, darling." He held her tightly, feeling her arms wrap around his neck and grip him as if she'd never let him go. "The muses never said anything to you?"

She shook her head.

Lifting himself enough to peer down at her, he then wiped her tears. "I suppose they were with me the whole time. But I thought they would have asked one of their other sisters to tell you I was fine."

"But I saw you-"

"They somehow put a Kevlar vest under my uniform. I was shot and fell unconscious from the impact. In fact, I think I still have a bruise."

She swallowed. Her brown eyes softened, turning into pure honey. "So that means...you're mine? You live with me in my time?"

He smiled widely. "Erva, darling, I will always be yours. No matter what time we're in. And about my sister and Paul-"

"Sorry to interrupt, but I just got a box from your former estate. I have letters from your sister and several of Paul's journals. They're all about you, how much they missed you and thought of you throughout the years. I'm-I'm not sure if that helps with your...grief at losing them-"

"That's the thing though, darling. Actually, although I was slated to die, the muses thought it was horrible for me to give up my sister and Paul to live here. It was a bit too bittersweet for, especially Erato, to take. So whenever I want, we want, we can go visit them. They also said something about a.s.sisting with other glimpses, but I didn't understand their meaning."

Erva huffed, then smiled widely, tears filling her eyes. "We can go back in time?"

"Aye...yes, darling." He suddenly inhaled, remembering. "I have something for you. I have a ring." He was about to get up to find it, when she pulled him back down on her little taut body. He moaned. He'd somehow forgotten how good it felt to lie on her, to feel her so close.

"Don't leave. I don't want you to leave ever again. I can't believe how wonderful...I know I have you with me now, but I don't want you to move, er, I have to hold you. Is that all right?"

That he understood all too well and nodded. He wasn't sure how long he could be separated from her either. But he had to do the honorable thing. "Does that mean if I asked you to marry me, you'd say yes? Because, quite honestly, it killed me a little when you didn't respond instantly the last time I asked. I mean, Erato did tell me how modern people date for many years, and she said something about cohabitating for a while before we decided to marry. But, and I may be a man of my time, terribly backwards and simplistic about matters of love, but I know my heart, darling. It only beats for you. And I hope you'll be mine in this time too?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes." Tears sprang from her eyes again, and he tried to catch each one. "Yes," she said again. "I love you so much. Yes."

They kissed. He didn't know who started it, since it felt so natural to do, as if they had done it while they'd spoken. But when she slipped her tongue through his lips, he thought little else but of her body under his. As much as he liked her in a corset, the bra and t-shirt were amazing, especially when she lay down as she was and let the cotton fabric mold around her perfect globes. He'd given her enough room to breath, but when he released the kiss to nibble down her neck his eyes caught sight of her nipples turning to hard little peeks through her shirt. Yes, he'd grow accustomed to this century in no time, especially as her t-shirt let him gauge her slender waist and the flare of both her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Darling, what cure are you advertising?" He lightly traced the text on her t-shirt.

She moaned. "The Cure is a band, a musical band." Then she sucked in a breath. "Oh no. I forgot how revealing this shirt is. I only wear it in my apartment, but my dean came by...G.o.d, he saw me in this."

He took a measured breath himself. "Did he stare at you? Will I have to ask him to a duel?"

She giggled. "No, he didn't stare, and you can't ask people to duel."

"I was joshing, you know."

She kept laughing, then held his face between her hands. "You're really here, aren't you?"

"Yes, darling," he said as one of his hands found its way under her shirt then slid up until he found the soft roundness he sought.

Erva's lids fluttered closed. She wore black mascara, and it made her long lashes that much more noticeable. He kissed each of her lids as he caressed her breast, finding her nipple and rolling it between his thumb and finger. Moaning, she arched her back into his touch. Her response made internal fireworks burst through his solar plexus and down to his toes. He moved back to her mouth and kissed her ravenously.

"G.o.d, I missed you." He noticed his voice sounded lower than usual and hungry.

"I missed you." When she said that with her own voice sounding so breathy and impatient, all ideas of taking his time, trying to find the romantic words to say, flew out of his mind.

He gripped her t-shirt and had it over her head in a second. But then he stared at her chest, blinking at the s.p.a.ce between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

She delicately touched herself around her heart.

"That's my name."

She nodded. "It's my first colored tattoo."

He looked up into her intense eyes. "You have my signature tattooed over your heart." It wasn't very big, but large enough that he saw it was a perfect duplication of his own mark. "Colored tattoo? This is just black." He softly traced the lines.

She swallowed. "When I thought...I didn't know you were...even though I knew there wouldn't be a day I wouldn't think of you, I still wanted something close, something that would remind me of falling in love with you and of giving you my heart."

He kissed her again, melting her lips with his. But he had to remove himself from her kiss once more to stare at his name. And he'd thought his heart couldn't feel more expansive and free, but looking at how he was right over her heart, his throat tightened. Still, he wanted her bra gone, but had no idea how to undo it. Remembering something about women's underwear from the future flashed through his mind, but he stared at the contraption for a moment too long.

She brushed her hands along her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to the center of her brazier. "It's a front clasp. See?" She moved the little piece of plastic then her bountiful b.r.e.a.s.t.s sprang free.

He beamed and held both her mounds in his hands. "If I weren't so desperate for you, I'd ask you to do that again. That was spectacular."

"Mmm..." She might have meant to say more, but he found one of her nipples in his mouth before he could think of what he was doing.

She struggled out of her bra. As he suckled her breast, one of his hands slipped down her flat belly to her jeans and was rather relieved it didn't take long for him to unb.u.t.ton the top. But then he stopped and stared down at her.

"This is a zipper. Fascinating invention." He smiled as he found unzipping her even easier than the b.u.t.ton.

"This is wholly unfair," she said. "Here I'm wearing, well, clothes, and you arrived nude, very easy access." Then she wrapped one of her hands around his c.o.c.k, making him close his eyes with the pleasure of the touch.

"I-I think the muses like having people arrive naked to their new time."

"I would have to agree." She stroked him down and up, paying attention to the head of his throbbing erection. "I can have Ben and Bill come over with some clothes."

He stopped her hand. "Ben and Bill?"

She smiled. "Ben has been my best friend since high school and Bill is his partner, um, lover, I guess you would say."

He loosened his grip around her hand, and immediately she embraced down his shaft, then caressed his s.c.r.o.t.u.m.

"I thought h.o.m.os.e.xuals could marry during this time. So wouldn't Bill be Ben's spouse?" He could barely grunt out.

She stopped and gripped him around his hips, rocking into him. "G.o.d, it makes me hot that you know about current events."

"I know the present Prime Minister in England and the President of America."

She moaned and arched again, then began to kiss down his neck.

He laughed. "And, Erva, darling-"

She stopped, her eyes gla.s.sy, her cheeks flushed with pa.s.sion.

"I even know the Prime Minister of Canada."

She moaned then giggled, beginning to pull down her pants, even if Will was on her or not. "Need you now."

He kept chuckling, but once she finally freed herself of her jeans, he quit. Urgently, she found his member with her hands and began to guide him into her hot, wet flesh. He couldn't joke after that.

"I love you," she whispered as she maneuvered her body to take in more of him.

Lord, this was better than any dream. He pulled slightly out, but then gently plummeted his way back in. He didn't know what he'd done in his life to deserve the woman he made love to, for he'd never thought love could be this freeing, this giving, and this good. He found a rhythm, but was surprised that she quickly internally squeezed until she cried out, she cried out his name. All of it made him think he might explode, and the warm air in his lungs invaded every muscle in his body tightening him, adding more pressure. Then he reached down and stroked against her little nub, making her clutch at him all the more. Her legs shook, but she held onto his shoulders in a tight squeeze.

"I'm going to...again," she sweetly whispered.

"Yes, my darling. I want you to." For he knew he couldn't stand much longer himself, but promised himself that next time he'd go slow. Well, slower. Hopefully.

Her internal muscles squeezed him again, then she yelled his name once more while she tilted her head back. Watching her o.r.g.a.s.m made all the pressure build until he couldn't hold back any longer. When she opened her eyes and looked deeply into his, a bolt of lightning ran though him, then he pushed himself all the way into her body, feeling as though he was transferring his very heart and soul into her. He gazed into her honey-colored eyes the whole time. His spasms seemed to take longer than usual to end, and he held onto her with all his might.

"I love you," she whispered.

He gathered her in his arms, their bodies perfectly aligned and still one. Kissing her gently, he lifted himself to whisper in her ear. "I love you. Not even two hundred years could hold me back from loving you. I love you timelessly."

Epilogue.

"What is he singing?" Clio asked Erato, as they glided down Erva's apartment building in a window-washing boatswain's chair. It had been a few weeks since they released Will back to Erva, and they had thought it best to give the couple some privacy. But they had to check. After all, it was their jobs. Truly though, they were nosey too.

They finally perched themselves on one of Erva's windows. Both wore matching golden work coveralls, looking in at Erva who was typing happily away at her laptop, but they could hear Will loudly singing, probably in the shower, since the sound echoed and was accompanied by the orchestra of running water.

"I believe that's from one of those men's groups of the early '90s. He wants to s.e.x her up." Erato shook her head.

Clio winced. "The man progressed with his music."

Erato smiled and was about to add a sarcastic remark, but then heard Will holler, "Why am I taking a shower alone? Where is my blue haired darling? I can stop singing if that's more tempting?"

Erva giggled, then pressed save. She hollered, "I keep forgetting to ask you about your spies. You had a lot of them, right?"

"I'll tell you everything if you join me in the shower." Will laughed.

Erva then ran from the room, tearing her t-shirt over her head in the process. "I'm coming."

"Not yet, but I'll get you to," Will growled.

Erato and Clio looked at each other with huge eyes, and they covered each other's mouths to stop from giggling.

Clio had the sense to lower the boatswain chair, and when they were closer to the ground floor, they burst out giggling.

"I think they'll be fine."

Erato nodded. "I think better than fine."

Clio laughed again, but when they found themselves on the ground they lingered, giggling quietly. It was then she saw the small figure approach. She nudged Erato, pointing with her head toward the pet.i.te woman walking toward them. She should have turned heads with her long rich brunette hair, braided down over one shoulder and stopping at her waist. Her white shift didn't stand out too much, because women of this time liked embroidered summer dresses of a similar fashion. However, it was fall, and not the time for such garments. She walked through the crowd of Bostonians, not one of them paying her the slightest heed. Through it all, she stood out, yet she was clearly invisible to the humans. Well, ghosts usually are.

Clio and Erato finally unbuckled themselves from the boatswain chair, then rose to meet her. Her eyes were almost black and haunted, but when she looked up at the building she smiled. And the gloom from the woman vanished.

"That's the happiest he's ever been," she said.