Timeless Heart (7 page)

Sandra continued reading through the
speculations for the disappearance. One supposition was Jerrod
Ross, who had just procured a large cash loan to improve his mining
business, had faked the disappearance and had vanished with the
other passengers to the new world. Sandra snorted. She picked up
the gold sovereign he had given her and turned it thoughtfully.
Something occurred to her. She went to Google and searched for the
modern value of an 1821 solid gold sovereign. A few clicks of her
mouse and she was astonished to find that gold sovereigns could be
worth up to two thousand dollars. Apiece. Jerrod had a whole purse
of them.

All her last few lingering, nagging doubts that
Jerrod wasn’t really from 1821 dissipated like fog in the sunshine.
He was real, and he was from the past. There was no
doubt.

So if he could travel here through time, then
he could, in theory, leave.

A bolt of pain went through her as the thought
of him leaving. She did not want him to leave her. Oh no, she
was
falling for him. And with each passing day, that
horrible feeling that he would leave her all alone was becoming
more intense. She couldn't bear it.

Slowly, she rose from her chair and went to
rouse Jerrod from his nap.

****

"Astounding, you can just go out and get food
like this, bring it home already prepared?" Jerrod was incredulous.
He put a couple of pieces of chicken on his plate, he then scooped
out some deli potato salad.

"Yes, it is called 'take-out' or in England
they call it 'take-away'. I’m afraid it’s a preferred mode of
eating for most people now days,” she laughed, then sobered.
“First, I want to tell you what I found out, Jerrod. I want to be
completely honest with you."

She told him everything, the entire
conversation with Brian, her looking up his family on the computer,
the article about the carriage disappearance. He did not know what
a computer was. She said she would explain later, it was something
she hadn’t shown him yet.

Jerrod lowered his head. "Suddenly, I am no
longer hungry. I believe I will retire." He stood and went to his
room.

He closed the door and slumped onto the bed,
his hands running through his hair in shock and stunned
astonishment. The evidence proved that he did not return home.
There was no record of him, at all. Just a death date, and an
ancient article of his disappearance. So, was that it, then? He
shook his head. No, surely there had to be a way to alter the past
from here in the present.

Jerrod stood and began to pace about the room.
What if he was trapped in this time? He knew no one. Had no means,
none of that all important 'ID' that Sandra spoke of. How would he
function, if not for her?

He was attracted to her, in a manner unlike any
other previous woman in his life. He wanted her. If he left her, he
would spend the rest of his days regretting that he never made love
to her. Was there more to this beyond his physical yearnings?
Perhaps. For now he just wanted to feel her in his arms and under
his body.

He had closed off his heart for so long, he
really knew nothing of the confused feelings that were swirling
about inside him. Lust, he understood. Lust had been his good
friend these last years, a close companion on his many meaningless
encounters. He did not want Sandra to be another in the long line
of women he fucked and tossed aside.

He looked toward the closed door, he could hear
Sandra moving about the kitchen, washing dishes. He couldn’t fight
it anymore, he didn’t want to fight it anymore.

He rubbed his forehead in irritation. Perhaps
he wanted Sandra to heal his hurt. Damme, he had not cried since he
was a small boy, yet he sobbed here with complete abandon, over the
possible and permanent loss of his family. He needed her to help
him ease the ache from in his heart and soul.

Jerrod heard Sandra walk into the bathroom and
turn on the taps. She was going to take a bath. Perfect.

****

Sandra was soaking in the lush bubbles, her
head on the pillow and her eyes closed, dozing lightly. She did not
hear the door open, only a deep sensuous voice saying, "Move
forward, Sandra."

She gasped, her eyes snapping open, and saw
Jerrod standing boldly, gloriously naked next to the tub. Thank God
she had one of those old fashioned clawed foot tubs, so it could
accommodate them both. As she slid forward, Jarrod stepped in
behind her and sank to his knees, gently pulling her against his
hard chest. Slowly, and with purpose, his hands stroked her
skin.

"Let me wash you, all over,” he growled. She
could feel it, his arousal, heavy and thick against her back. She
closed her eyes. His long, masculine fingers were roaming through
her hair, massaging her scalp, setting her skin ablaze. She began
to move her body.

She heard him flip the cap of her body wash.
Soon his hands, covered in the red liquid gel began to move in
circular motions on her neck, then moved down to her
shoulders.

"Still not fond of the scent, but on you,
Sandra, it is quite enticing," he murmured. White, foamy suds oozed
through his fingers as he roamed lower, toward her breasts. She
reached for a washcloth, and with a trembling hand held it behind
her.

“Maybe...you would like to use this," she
whispered.

"I want no impediment between my hands and your
glorious skin," his husky voice rumbled.

Obviously, what in hell had she been thinking?
What did she know about bathtub seduction rules? Sandra threw the
damp cloth across the room where it landed against the toilet tank
with a splat. No impediment. Check.

She wanted nothing more than to turn around and
drink in the sight of his naked body. She had only gotten a glimpse
before he lowered himself into the tub. His hands disappeared below
the surface of the water. He was caressing her breasts, stroking
them, before continuing downward.

His hands clasped around her waist and brought
her practically out of the water, then set her on his thighs. She
gasped aloud when he sat her firmly on his erection, the erection
he was holding out straight for her to straddle with her rear end.
Her eyes closed tight at the feel of his hardness, tucked in so
firmly between her legs. He must be large, he felt large, she could
feel his heartbeat throbbing through the velvety steel cock beneath
her. She leaned back against his chest, her head just below his,
she moaned and he continued his sensual assault on her skin. Down
her legs as far as he could reach, then back up again, between her
legs, over her stomach up to her breasts. She was practically
panting, expelling her breath in short, ragged spurts.

"Open for me," he rasped. She did, spreading
her legs slightly. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped as a long
finger entered her. Jerrod moved his finger in and out of her, his
thumb making circular motions over her engorged clit. She writhed,
water splashing over the side of the tub and against the
wall.

"Yes," he crooned in her ear, his breath hot
and heavy with passion. "Come for me, Sandra, scream for me. You
have the most luscious cunny. I want to taste it, plunge my tongue
deep into your folds..."

Oh god, his words. It was building, she could
feel it. He increased the pace and inserted a second finger,
stretching her. What would it be like to have that heavy, thick rod
that was snuggling in her folds buried into her so deep...deep...
she cried out, swirls of color burst behind her eyes, she bucked
and writhed on his thighs. He began to kiss and nip and her neck
while her breathing finally slowed.

It was the most sensuous act she had ever been
party to. She had never climaxed like that in her life, not even by
her own hand, or her vibrator.

"You know where this is heading, do you not,
Sandra?" His molten voice caressed her ears and other parts of her
trembling body.

"Yes. I do," she replied.
Yes.
Please.

He lifted her from the tub, water and soap
dripping from them both, and pulled her into a heated kiss.
Reaching for the nape of her neck, he leaned her back, and kissed
her quite thoroughly. Sandra had never,
never
been kissed
like this before. Her thoughts briefly went to condoms, she had
some in her night table drawer, but they were old, as in, maybe a
year or more. Were there expiration dates on rubbers? Funny the
things you think of in the haze of desire.

To hell with it, they would have to do. She
kissed him back just as passionately.

With a deep growl, Jerrod lifted her into his
arms and carried her down to her bedroom, leaving a trail of soapy
water behind them. Neither cared.

Sandra could not hold back her moan as he
continued his hot possession of her mouth.

"I mean to have you, Sandra."

She kissed him back."Yes. Have me. All of
me."

****

Kissing her neck, nipping gently with his
teeth, Jerrod could taste the body wash on her skin.

"I deduce," he whispered huskily in between the
playful bites, "I should have toweled us off before we came to your
room." They both looked down at the pool of soapy grapefruit water
on the floor at their feet. Sandra laughed, leaned over to the bed
and whipped the covers off, pulling the top sheet free from its
tucked corners.

"Use this..." she smiled. Jerrod took it from
her and, kneeling at her feet, he slowly began to blot the soap and
water from her skin, moving upward, kissing and nipping and licking
where he had just dried. Sandra moaned, quite loudly, urging him
onward and upward. His mouth reached the glistening wet lips of her
cunny. His fingers reached up, spreading her open, and with no
words needing to be spoken, Sandra spread her legs, reaching down
to hold on to his head, as if to steady herself. Utter sweetness,
like the nectar from a rare exotic flower, as he had imagined. His
mouth enclosed gently over her folds, his tongue exploring into its
depths, plunging deep, licking her, tasting her, she tasted like
honey wine.

Sandra gasped aloud above him, grasping his
hair just a little tighter. Faster and faster he stroked, bringing
her to another glorious climax. She threw her head back and
screamed her release. Jerrod smiled. With the taste of her still on
his lips, he continued his journey, over her stomach, up to her
breasts, which he gave his undivided attention. He took both
breasts in his hands, lifted them, felt the heft, his thumbs
stroking her nipples into stiff, hardened peaks. He pushed them
together. Oh Sweet Christ, he wanted to plunge his aching cock in
between those succulent tits, to fuck them, until he spilled
himself all over those creamy mounds, marking them as his and his
alone.

Her fingers were deep in his hair, grasping,
pulling, it was entirely loose from his cue now, and she grabbed
fistfuls of his hair with obvious pleasure. He stood fully before
her and captured her mouth with his, his hands reaching around to
cup her buttocks. He brought her right against the part of him that
was ready to explode. Oh God, he wanted her. He ground his hips
into hers, and he rocked, moaning with the heated contact. Now. He
was losing control. His cock was aching to plunge into her
glorious, waiting wetness.

"Condoms," she panted. She left his arms and
fumbled about in the night table drawer, bringing out some box. He
watched, fascinated, as she tore open a covering and showed him.
Ah, French letters, he had used them many times. He felt it, not
the same consistency at all. Later he would ask, for now, he
expertly rolled it onto his engorged cock. He reached for her,
snapping her up in his arms, crushing her to him.

Sandra wrapped her legs around his waist, and
that was it, what little control he had been managing to hold on to
was gone, he walked the few steps toward her bedroom wall, grasped
her, and pinned her there. Without a word, he slid into her,
hissing through his teeth the deeper he went. She was so tight,
hot, wet.

Sandra bounced up and down on his cock and he
joined, thrusting up to meet her. It was over before it could
hardly begin. He cried out with each violent spurt. Damme, that was
the most intense...never had he come like that before. She milked
him dry in a matter of minutes.

She slowly lowered her legs and he helped her
feet touch the floor. He was breathing so hard he thought he would
never catch his breath. Then, he felt foolish. He was too damned
quick, like some randy schoolboy. He felt a flush cover his cheeks.
He was about to speak, when Sandra reached down to grasp him, her
hand moving slowly over the length and girth of him. "My, it seems
you aren't finished. I'm so glad," she whispered huskily. She slid
off the tight fitting condom and tossed it on the floor.

Apologies later
. He lifted her into his
arms and carried her to the bed. Again his mouth began its
exploration of her skin, only she gently pushed him away, and
encouraged him to lay on his back.

"It's my turn, Jerrod."

She started at his shoulders, kneading,
touching. "I love a man with broad shoulders," she murmured. “So
broad, you can barely get your arms around him.” As her fingers
explored, she leaned down and laid soft kisses on his shoulders,
across his collar bone to the other shoulder. Nipping, licking,
tasting. "So masculine," she whispered. He closed his eyes. Never
had a woman done this to him. His sexual experiences were many, but
they were usually quick couplings in the back rooms of gaming
houses, or a swift encounter in the alley, against the fence, like
he had just done with her against the wall. Shameful. He had
treated her no better than the strumpets or doxies he had taken
over the years. Granted, he had never paid the attention to giving
a woman pleasure they way he’d just done for her. This was all new
to him, and he was eager to experience it all.