Get There: (Originally Published in the Print Anthology a RED HOT VALENTINE'S DAY) (4 page)

Murphy stepped out of his sleep
suit and didn’t wait for her to finish getting out of hers. He pushed her back onto the plain-sheeted bunk. His mouth moved on hers, then over her jaw. Down her neck. To the swell of her breasts, over nipples sensitized by his kiss. Over her belly. When he settled his mouth on her center, Darowish lifted her hips and pressed herself into his kiss. They didn’t have enough time for this, but she couldn’t give it up.

His tongue slid along her skin. When he suckled gently at her clit, her body leaped. It surged. She bit her tongue at the thought and pushed away the knowledge they were reaching the Surge point. There’d be no turning back.

When Murphy pushed a finger, then two inside her, curving them to find the sweet spot inside her, Darowish groaned. Her fingers fisted in the regulation-weight blanket, finding no purchase. She had to put them in his hair to find that, and Murphy had cut his hair too short.

His mouth moved on her cunt as mercilessly as he’d kissed her minutes earlier. Her orgasm built without hesitation. It filled her, and then it emptied her, too.

“Don’t wait.” She urged him with her hands and mouth to cover her with his body, clutched at his back and ass to hold him closer as their mouths met. She moaned at the taste of herself on his tongue. “Don’t wait any more.”

They’d both waited too long. Now their time was short, but Ty was right. She didn’t want to spend her last conscious minutes with regrets.

They weren’t Captain and Commander any longer. Not even Darowish and Murphy. She was Edie to him again, after all these years. She was Edie, and a woman in his arms.

He slid inside her with a low cry she echoed before capturing his mouth. Their kiss was familiar, even after so long. His tongue stroked, his lips nibbled. His cock stretched her, and Edie clasped him tight.

“Five minutes until Surge.”
Gamma
’s voice made the alarming words soothing.

Ty’s broad shoulders tensed under her hands, but Edie urged him to keep moving. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop.” Ty kissed her again.

“I love you, Ty,” she gasped out as orgasm swept her.

“I’ve always loved you, Edie.”

They didn’t have time to make it slow, or to bask in the afterglow. They barely had time to slip back into their clothes and take their seats at the controls that would guide the
Gamma
home. In minutes the ship would hit the Surge. Their molecules would be disassembled and shot miles through space and put back together on the other side. Nobody had ever made it through awake and come out sane.

Their chairs had always been next to each other, close enough for them to touch, but they never had. Not until now, when Ty leaned to kiss her as she punched in the final coordinates that would keep them safe.

Lost in pleasure as the ship leaped, Edie didn’t notice the darkness. There was no pain. She and Ty were in each other’s arms, and they merged. Joined. No more waiting, they were together at last.

Forever.

“G
ruesome,” Ty said into the phone. “They didn’t make it through the Surge? They got all . . . mashed up together, or what?”

Edie laughed. “That’s up to the reader to decide.”

“I’m the reader. I say they got out of it alive.” Ty lay back on his bed to stare at the dark ceiling. It was late and he was tired, but he’d held onto the anticipation of this conversation for hours.

“Okay. And then what happened?”

“You’re the storyteller, babe.”

Edie sighed into the phone. “But I like to hear you talk, Ty. I like the sound of your voice.”

“I can talk about a lot of things.” He stretched out a hand to the unseen above, wishing she were close enough to touch. Soon. Not soon enough.

“I know you can.” Her low chuckle crept over him and tickled the back of his neck.

So they talked. For an hour, then longer. It beat the hell out of typed conversations, some of which in the past he’d had to manage with only one hand. It was easier on the phone, sexier when he could hear the sound of her breathing shift instead of only imagining it.

“I wish you were touching me,” Edie murmured.

“Close your eyes. I am touching you.”

He knew she liked him to talk, though just as he claimed to be better with drawing than writing, so he’d said the same about speaking. But because he knew she liked it, hell, needed it, Ty was willing to make the effort.

“Where?”

“All over.”

“Ty.” Edie gave an exasperated sigh.

He laughed. “Your hips. I’m touching your hips.”

Her sigh sounded more contented this time. “
Mmm.
Go on.”

He spoke. She listened. He tried to weave a picture with his words and he must have done a fairly decent job, because after a while he heard the pattern of her breathing change. Heard her low moan. If he strained his ears, Ty could hear the shush and shuffle of her body moving against her sheets.

His own hand moved on his prick, up and down. He stopped for a minute to add a palmful of lube, and Edie murmured encouragement. She was close, she said. Was he?

“I’m close, babe. Thinking about you.” He cradled the phone against his shoulder so he could use both hands, one on his cock and the other on his balls. It took some work to imagine the press and squeeze of his palm as Edie’s body, but he was trying his best.

When they made love, Ty liked to wait for Edie to finish first, sometimes more than once. He’d never been with a woman whose body responded so well to his. The fact she could come two or three times seemed like a miracle to him, a gift he wasn’t stupid enough to take credit for. But on the phone, without being able to see and touch her, Ty could concentrate on his own pleasure and know she would get hers, too. Her hand never faltered on her body the way his sometimes did.

“Are you close?” She asked in a low, sweet purr that told him she’d come and was waiting for him, maybe still toying with herself the way he knew she liked. Trying for round two.

“Close.” It was harder to talk now, not because he had no words but because forming them took too much effort.

Ty, fist slick, pumped his cock slowly, then faster. His back arched a little, head pressing into the pillow, and he closed his eyes. He had a stable of stock fantasies to call on during times like this, when the sound of her voice was enough to tease and tantalize but he wanted more. He thought about Edie and the first time he’d seen her for real, not a photo on a website or an icon on the message board.

Edie Darowish, for real. They’d talked for months online and a few times on the phone, business at first and later . . . pleasure. But the first time he saw her he hadn’t been sure what he’d think when faced with the real woman. The meeting had been set up for them to talk about the
Runner
graphic novels, and though they’d been flirting online, Ty wasn’t willing to bet Edie felt about him the way he’d started feeling about her.

Until he saw her for the first time.

She’d worn a simple dress patterned with flowers and low sandals that showed off her long, tanned legs. Her long blond hair had fallen over her shoulders, begging him to touch it,and at her throat, the scarf, a wispy scrap of sheer yellow. Later, he learned it was silk. He’d come from snow-covered and frigid Maine to California, but the sunshine he most remembered hadn’t come from the sky. It had been in the sight of Edie’s scarf.

It still smelled of her when he drew it across his nose now, and whether it was because he made her wear it sometimes when they were together, or because he only imagined it, Ty didn’t care. He buried his face in the silk, imagining it was her skin. His fist slid along his cock, palming the head and down, and his balls tightened.

“Oh, Ty, I’m going to . . . I’m . . .” Edie’s small cry sounded through the phone’s earpiece.

Ty couldn’t speak. His orgasm jetted from him and all he could manage was a strangled, muffled moan. The scarf brushed his face as the phone slipped sideways into the pillows. Heat and pleasure shot from his balls and out his prick, and he fell back, spent.

“Ty?”

A minute had passed and he realized Edie was still on the line. “Yeah, babe.”

She laughed, low and sweet. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” He yawned and tucked the scarf back into his nightstand drawer, then reached for the box of tissues to handle cleanup.

“You know I’m not really into the whole Valentine’s Day thing. . . .”

He laughed. “Riiiiight. This from the woman who wrote an entire story arc around Cupid?”

It had been three of the most popular episodes and had directly affected the first graphic novel he’d been contracted to draw. Ty knew how Edie felt about Valentine’s Day. Nonchalant didn’t describe it.

“Well, I’m just saying that I understand if this year it’s not as extravagant. Since we’ll have just moved into the new place and all. And if you don’t sell your house . . .”

“Babe. Don’t worry. I have buyers coming tomorrow, and a nice royalty check coming, according to my agent.” Ty yawned again, bone-crackingly. “We’ll be together on V-Day this year, and we’ll celebrate it. I promise.”

Neither had planned the move to coincide with the lovers’ holiday. It had just worked out with
Runner
’s shooting schedule. The people they’d bought the house from had been able to move out earlier than expected, too, which meant Ty and Edie could take ownership before they’d thought possible.

“Valentine’s Day together. Oh,
mmmm.
” Edie made what Ty always thought of as one of her “yummy” sounds. “I can’t wait. I wish we had a time machine so we could just skip ahead.”

He didn’t want to fall asleep on the phone, no matter how much he wanted to drift off to dreams with her voice in his ear. “Me, too. Babe . . . I gotta get to sleep.”

“I know you do. Sleep tight, honey.”

“You, too.”

Ty thumbed off the phone and turned on his side, facing the empty spot where Edie would have been—and would be, in just another week.

W
e could get there by time machine.

In it, we could skip the days ahead. Inside, not even minutes would pass. Outside, all the hours keeping us apart would vanish as if they’d never existed. And when we reached our destination, we could take out the key and throw it away and stay there, just like that, while time passed us by and the world moved around us, but we stayed the same.

I have some bad news. Call me.

E
die’s smile at Ty’s latest addition to their fanciful game faded. Bad news? What bad news? Her finger was already stabbing the numbers on the phone. Whatever it was, it had happened hours ago, before she woke and had time to get onto her computer.

Outside her door, people carrying boxes and pushing trolleys loaded with more boxes passed. The entire office was abustle with the move, some of the staff packing up entirely and others staying behind. Still more were trying to prep rooms for the incoming group who’d be taking over the space. She’d spent the last four years in this place, with these people. She’d been so focused on getting out of here to be with Ty, she’d been ignoring what she was leaving behind.

Edie pressed the phone to her ear and turned from the door, not wanting to give in to the sudden waves of melancholy and anxiety. Bad news from Ty was bad enough, without her getting all fertootzed about the move, too.

He wasn’t answering, and Edie checked the time. Early morning for her, just before lunch for him. Ty worked from home and always had his cell phone with him. Where was he?

She’d logged in to her instant message program first thing, but his name was grayed out. She typed in a quick message, anyway. He didn’t answer that, either, not even when she buzzed him.

What could the bad news be? How bad could it be? Her mind whirled with a thousand possibilities, each worse than the last, and Edie cursed her overactive imagination. She tried to focus on the work, instead. Her phone rang as she was halfway through a scene she’d been halfway through for an hour.

Edie, who’d been looking at the screen but not really seeing the words, flipped open her phone and replied before Ty could even speak. “Are you all right?”

She could tell she’d caught him by surprise. “I’m fine, babe.”

It felt as if she’d been holding her breath for an hour, and now it sighed out. “Oh, thank God. I was worried. You’re okay?”

“I’m fine, really.” Ty’s voice soothed her. “I’m sorry to worry you.”

“You said you had bad news, and then you didn’t answer the phone, and . . .” Edie took another shallow breath and let it out. “I was just worried.”

“No. I have good news, too. Not just bad.”

She could see his face, the half smile and the way his green eyes would crinkle at the corners. Good news, bad news, whatever it was, so long as he was fine. That’s all that mattered.

“Good news first,” she said.

“I sold the house.”

“Whoo-hoo!”
Edie punched her fist in the air and spun around in her chair. “That’s not good news, that’s great news!”

She sobered a little. “What’s the bad news? They didn’t give you what you wanted?”

“No. Not that. They made a good offer on the house. With everything else going on, it’s enough to cover the realtor’s fees and what I owed. I won’t come out a prince from the deal, but I’ll have some cash in pocket for the trip.”

“So . . . ?” Edie chewed her bottom lip and stopped her chair spinning.

“They want to settle next week.”

Her heart sank, but she tried optimism first. “So . . . you’ll have to leave a day or so later?”

“I won’t be there for Valentine’s Day, babe.”

Ty sounded so forlorn she couldn’t be angry with him, but disappointment splintered her voice. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Ty sighed, and she imagined him running a hand through his shaggy dark hair. “The realtor and the lawyers have to do their thing . . . they can’t meet until the Monday after. I’m really, really sorry.”