Timeless Love (8 page)

"Feel me, Cathy. Feel how I want
you."

She moaned. Surely this desirous voice did not
belong to her.
Oh heavens, she did not just growl and groan as a
wild animal in heat?

Joey's hand moved to her breast and cupped it.
Catherine was wearing what Joey called a 'bra' and it was certainly
was a nice change from the layers of restricting undergarments she
was used to. The warmth of his hand caused another heated moan to
escape her lips. Joey's thumb flicked by her nipple and her hips
rose off the couch in answer. He lifted her top until her bra was
exposed then he deftly freed one of her breasts from the
undergarment.

Oh.

Their gazes locked. She had heard the term
'smoldering desire' and believed it the tripe of naughty, lewd
novels until she saw the twin flames in Joey's denim colored eyes.
She now knew desire truly existed.

He lowered his head and caught her nipple
between his teeth, bit down, and then flicked his tongue across it.
Electric shock waves sparked her nerve endings. The sizzle went
straight to her womb. Moist, hot desire gushed from the most
private part of her. Catherine gasped and then her throat squeezed
shut. Before she could form another thought, Joey's lips were on
her breast, sucking and licking. His hand cupped her breast and he
squeezed and kneaded in time with his deep throated sucking. She
was going to burst into flame. Her breath rushed out in a jagged
huff.

She continued pumping her hips and Joey
matched her movements.
How naughty, how utterly delicious.
Joey's hot, masterful lips moved from her breast back to her mouth,
the thrusts of his tongue matching the thrusts of his slim muscular
hips. Her hands gripped both sides of his head, fingers entwined in
his black, silken hair. Catherine kissed him back with equal fervor
and passion. Time seemed to spin by. The temperature in the room
shot up several notches and the heat they were generating made her
feel like she was foreign presence in her own skin.

Their breathing became more ragged and raw.
Joey pulled back, his chest heaving.

"Jesus!" He gasped.

He started to move away from her but she
grasped a fistful of his shirt.

"I want more, I want it all."

****

Joey's eyes widened.
Damn, she was hot. She
was a virgin, right?
He never asked, he just assumed. He was so
close to spilling in his pants.

His hand cupped her cheek and his thumb
caressing her red, swollen lips. "What do you want?"

"I want you to show me everything a man and
woman can do to each other to give pleasure. I want to see you
naked. I want this." Her small feminine hand grasped his erection.
He shuddered, moaned, and climaxed right in his pants
. Friggin'
hell, how embarrassing.

Her hand darted away. "Oh heavens, what did I
do?"

He vibrated and shook from his release. She
sounded worried, a little frightened and her innocence was an
erotic jolt to his shuddering body. Cathy had no idea about any of
this. With shaky legs he stood, one hand braced on the back of the
couch and his other hand cupped his cock. His prick was hard,
sensitive, and he wasn't done. The orgasm was intense. His entire
body quaked. He shook his head then focused on Cathy.

"You didn't hurt me, far from it. Your touch
made me come. Ah..."
How to explain this?
"Do you know what
I'm saying?"

She shook her head, puzzled uncertainty on her
sweet, flushed face.

"Give me a minute. I'll be back." He limped
off to the bathroom, feeling foolish. Spilling himself like
teenager was humiliating. Cathy had him worked up. Joey closed the
bathroom door, leaned against the wall, and glanced in the mirror.
His face was flushed and his eyes burned with lust.

When was the last time he was this aroused?
Try never.
He lowered his zipper and pushed his jeans to
hang low over his hips.
What a friggin' mess.
Reaching for
the toilet paper roll, he reamed off a wad and began to sop up his
sperm. He kicked off his jeans and removed his soaking wet
underwear, rolling it up in a towel. Joey tossed the mess in the
laundry hamper then stepped back into his jeans and carefully
zipped them up over his semi-erect cock. No more making out
tonight.

Joey leaned over the sink and splashed cold
water on his face. He should jump in the shower under the cold
water until it killed his erection.
Sounded like a damned
plan.
First though, he had to talk with Cathy and soothe her
concerns.

When he had collected himself he walked back
into the living room. Cathy sipped her Pepsi and she looked deep in
thought.

He sat down next to her but kept a little
distance between them.

"What happened, Joey?"

"When a man is aroused, he… his cock gets
hard. The term 'to come' means he reaches a peak and..."
Hell,
he sounded like some lame-ass sex manual
. "His sperm or his
seed spurts out, usually inside a woman. It's how a woman gets
pregnant."

She took another sip of her of
Pepsi.

"None of this is spoken of in my time. I tried
to ask my mother once and she told me I did not need to know
anything until the day before I would be married. I will confess I
did see two horses out in the field. The act was rather brutal and
the stallion mounted the mare from behind, biting her while he
thrust."

Oh,sweet hell
. Her frank yet innocent
way of speaking was going to destroy what little control he
had.

"Can people fuck like the horses? Is it
possible?"

That did it. He shot to his feet. "I'm going
to take a shower."
A very cold one.

Chapter Eight

Catherine lay in the darkness of the parlor
wide-awake. The traffic noises that had frightened and bewildered
her, on the first night, now became part of the symphony of the
neighborhood. She no longer flinched when the ambulances or police
autos roared up the hill to the hospital.

Catherine shifted on her side pulling the
blanket up further to her chin. Joey had been in the shower a very
long time. When he finally came out he said ‘goodnight’ and then
went into the bedroom. At least an hour had passed and her body
still thrummed with unsatisfied desire. She could still smell
Joey’s musky scent. To think she caused him to 'spill his seed'
from a touch of her hand. The deepest feminine part of her culled a
certain satisfaction from the knowledge.

Catherine's thoughts drifted from the carnal
to something more serious– her return home. Earlier that day she
had thought about bringing cases of Pepsi with her then she had
thought, why not Joey?
Why not indeed?
He did not have any
family or any real ties to the community. Although, she did notice
he talked to his neighbors readily enough and knew the proprietors
of the nearby businesses, like the fish and chip shop and Stephen's
apothecary or drug store, whatever it was called.

For all his muddled and lonely past he was not
a brooding man. Joey did not indulge in self-pity or depressive
thoughts, just accepted things as they were. He was too fine and
honorable a man to have the occupation of a breaker of legs. Surely
he could have found a better occupation. He reminded her of some of
the ruffians she had seen in Truro picking pockets and stealing
food from carts.
Oh dear
. That was not fair at all. Joey was
not a thief. However, he worked for one.

Could he come back with her to 1821? Her
father for all his interfering ways was influential and could
assure that Joey found a respectable occupation, or was all this a
wistful dream?

Reality poured over her like ice-cold water.
What if Joey did not want to leave? Worse, what if she could never
leave? Could she stay with Joey? Would he want her to? She did not
want to even contemplate that possibility. To her, remaining was
not an option. Her head began to ache.

Catherine threw back the blanket and walked to
the bedroom door. She knocked and entered. Joey was still awake and
he lay in semi-darkness. He was bare-chested with the blanket slung
low over his hips and his arms crossed behind his head.

"Can't sleep?" He asked. His voice sounded
deeper than usual.

"I want to sleep in here, with
you."

****

Cathy stood hands clasped behind her back. She
wore his pajama top and her long blond hair was all tousled. She
looked sexy, innocent, and beguiling all at the same time. He threw
back the covers in invitation. In silent appeal he hoped she would
never leave.

"Come on, get in."

Through the moonlit room he saw a small curve
of a smile on her luscious lips. She padded across the ancient
linoleum floor and climbed in bed. She curled into his side and
spread her hand over his heart. Her head rested on his shoulder.
God. Cathy felt so good and so damn perfect.

"Joey, I am thinking. There is nothing keeping
you here. Why not come back with me to 1821?"

If he had been hit in square in the face with
a board he could not be more stunned.

"Babe, I want you to listen to me very
carefully. I believe you're from the past one hundred percent. But,
I don't think you're going to go back to your time. I think you're
stuck here. To pin all your hopes on a crack of lightning is
unwise. It's late September. There might not be another thunder and
lightning storm until next spring, what then? You can stay here
with me, but I don't want you waiting, wishing, and praying on
something that won't happen." His voice was soft, but firm with
conviction.

He felt her stiffen next to him. Joey could
sense the annoyance pouring off her in waves. She didn't speak, but
she moved away from him and he felt the loss of her
warmth.

"Would it be so terrible to stay here in this
time? You seem to like some things about 1969. I can help you
adjust and I want you to stay with me."
Forever and friggin'
ever.

He heard her sigh. "Yes, I admit I do like
some aspects of this time, you most of all Joey."

His heart thumped double time at her words.
The thought of sharing his life with Cathy seemed too good to be
true. His mind began to race. He could find a better job, a better
place for them to live.
Jesus
. He had never felt this way
toward a woman. Joey wanted her with him always.

"But I have a life in 1821, a family. I must
do everything in my power to try and return where I belong. Joey,
it is a wonderful place. You would love it. My home is next to the
sea and it is so peaceful and tranquil. Well, except for the waves
crashing against the cliffs but that sound is also quite soothing.
You should consider coming with me, truly."

Joey frowned. "Oh, so I don't have a family or
a life, so I can leave. Maybe I don't want to give up electricity,
flushing toilets, medical care that doesn't involve leeches, Pepsi,
or music. Ever think of that?"

Cathy turned away from him.
Smooth move,
asshole. You get her into bed and all you do is
fight.

He heard a slight sniffle.

"Cathy."

"I am not crying," she snapped
defiantly.

"I know, babe." Joey curled in next to her,
his briefs doing nothing to hide his erection. His arms encircled
her and brought her tighter against his chest.

"Just ignore it. My cock has a mind of its
own. Go to sleep."

He kissed the top of her head. The stiffness
and resistance in her body gave way. Her soft femininity caressed
his harder edges. His eyelids grew heavy, but he didn't fall asleep
until he ensured Cathy was comfortable and asleep first.

****

The next morning things were a little strained
over breakfast. Cathy nibbled on toast while flipping through the
pages of a history book. Joey thought he dreamt when he awoke to
find the bed empty next to him, but her evocative and sensual scent
lingered on the sheets and pillows.

Taking a sip of his instant coffee, he stole a
glance at her. Cathy had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. A few
wayward tendrils framed her beautiful face. He wanted to drag her
back to his bed right now. Joey wanted to make love to her all
damned day.

Without looking up she asked, "Are you going
out this afternoon?"

She meant his collections, which he had
already finished two days ago.

"No, we can spend the day together. Would you
like to go to Rockwood Park? It's a beautiful fall day. We can walk
around, and then maybe go out for dinner. If you like."

She glanced up. "Yes, I would like that,
Joey."

He stood. "Let's walk down to the drug store
and get some snacks for tonight." He held out his hand. "I want you
to try potato chips. They are similar to fries, only thinner cut
and you eat them cold."

With a hint of a smile, she slipped her small
hand in his. Her touch made his damned day. Nothing could go
wrong.

They stepped outside. Leaning against the wall
of his building was Jack, smoking his Export A
cigarette.