Chapter 13
And then the fun began...
It was still dark when Zachary drove her back to the military base. Danny had come back to care for Sammy after his “night on the town,” whatever that meant.
She glanced about at her surroundings. Lights on poles illuminated the roadways and metal vehicles they passed or saw parked along the side.
Some of the buildings were dark, but there were lights in many of them.
Even though it was the middle of the night, there was still activity going on at a military base.
They had to pass through a special, guarded gate even to get onto the base.
She was a different person than the one who had left here two nights ago on the way to her welcoming fete at Madrene’s keep.
For one thing, she felt a not-unpleasant ache betwixt her legs.
For another, her lips and breasts were no doubt swollen from Zachary’s unrelenting erotic ministrations.
And she for a certainty knew what multiple orgasms were now.
When she had time to think about it, she would blush at some of the things she had allowed the rogue to do to her. Hah! She would blush even more over things she had done to him.
She had slept intermittently through the night.
In the tub. And betwixt bouts of bedsport.
But every time she fell asleep, the most gruesome dreams..
.rather, night terrors...came to her. All taking place at the abbey.
All involving her father and brothers and hirdsmen torturing the good nuns to reveal where she was supposedly hiding.
“Why so quiet, babe?” He reached over and took her hand in his. The other steered the wheel on the car.
“These images keep flickering through my mind.”
“Of us having wild monkey sex?”
“Nay! I need no mind pictures to recall that.” She squeezed his hand tightly in reproval. “I believe I am having visions of things happening right now, in the past.”
“Are you talking about the nightmares?” He’d had to shake her awake from one of them.
She nodded.
“Maybe it’s just guilt, or something.”
She shrugged. “Mayhap. But I am beginning to think there was some method to this madness of my time travel.” And it was a madness in itself that I am accepting the concept of time travel.
“And that would be?”
“Perchance the gods sent me here to learn modern fighting techniques so that I can gather an army and go back to fight against evil...in particular, the evil perpetuated by my father and his followers.”
Zachary was oddly quiet.
She turned in her seat to look at him. “What?”
“I don’t want you to go away.”
A thrill of pleasure coursed through her at his words.
By the light of the dashing board, she could see his face grow grim. “I don’t want you to go away...yet,” he amended.
She had to smile at that half-hearted amended statement of his feelings for her. “Dost think I could? Go back, I mean?”
“I have no idea.”
“Something is happening to me. Something even stranger than the time travel. I sense being tugged back.”
He flashed a quick glance of alarm. “It was just a dream. You can’t just go back,” he insisted.
She shrugged. “You and Torolf’s men went back.”
“That was an accident.”
“Are you sure about that?”
He arched his brows at her.
“Mayhap, where there is a need for a hero, the gods—or your One-God—send warriors hither and yon to fight the good battles.”
“You think I’m a hero, huh?”
She could tell he was trying to change the subject. “Would you go back with me?” she asked softly.
He drew back in shock, taking his hand away.
She had surprised herself, not having planned to ask such a question. Not even sure she wanted to go back herself.
“Absolutely not! Are you crazy?” He must have realized how he sounded because he immediately tried to take her hand again, which she would not allow. “I can’t risk going away, not with Sammy’s situation.”
She stared at him, unblinking.
“No way! I wouldn’t try to go back in time with Sammy, either, if that’s what you’re thinking. Even if I could. He’s in enough danger here without me putting him in the middle of some Dark Age un-civilization.”
He pulled up in front of the women’s sleeping quarters. When she tried to open the door, he pressed a lever which locked her in. She turned her face away from him, not wanting him to see her tears. Tears, for the love of Loki! She was not a weeping woman, or ne’er had been till she met him.
“Don’t go away angry,” he urged, trying to pull her into his arms. “You’re going to hate me enough during the upcoming WEALS rotations. At least let us keep separate this special bond we seem to have from the military crap.”
“You mean sex?”
“Well, yeah, you must admit we’re incredible together.”
“And that is everything to you?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” he snapped, then immediately regretted his words, tugging on her arm to pull her closer. “Come on, give me a good-bye kiss. I don’t want you angry with me, not after what we’ve shared these past two days.”
She knew better than to allow his embrace, knowing the effect he had on her. In a trice, she would be in his lap, rubbing their nether parts raw. “I am not angry. Just disappointed.”
“I enjoyed being with you, Britta.” He used a forefinger to trace circles on the back of her neck. “I care about you.”
Minutes later, she was tiptoeing into the chamber she shared with the three other women who were thankfully sleeping.
She knew she’d hurt Zachary when she’d declined his kiss and pushed out of his arms. She knew she was being unreasonable in expecting him to grant her such a great favor, putting his son at risk.
She knew he’d just given her the best two days of her life, and for that alone, he deserved a token of her thanks.
But she was in a contrary mood. And she was very worried about what might be happening back in her own time. It took her a long time to fall asleep.
It was just past dawn when she and the other women throughout the sleeping quarters, not just their room, were awakened by a loud ruckus.
First a shrill, loud, long blast of a whistle.
Men—the instructors, it turned out—were banging on the doors and yelling into objects held up to their mouths which magnified their voices.
Weapons were firing out in the hall, and flares of light were going off.
“Fall out! Fall out!” one person screamed. “Out of your racks!”
“On your feet! On your feet!” someone else yelled.
“Get up, you lazy maggots,” the instructor known as F.U. hollered through the now-open doorway.
“Go, go, go!” It was Cage—rather, Instructor LeBlanc— joining in the yell-fest.
Thus far, none of them had entered the sleeping chamber, just opened the doors, presumably respecting the privacy of the women. At first, that was.
“Oh, great!” Terri whispered. “Do they have to use those bullhorns? I have the hangover from hell.”
“I just hope those aren’t live rounds they’re firing from those machine guns,” Donita remarked, even as she jumped out of her sleeping pallet and stood at attention, like the other ladies.
“Nah. They’re blanks,” said Marie. “And firecrackers.”
“You are the sorriest group of pretend warriors I have ever had the misfortune to meet,” Commander MacLean said, storming into the room. So much for privacy! He needed no bullhorn to increase the volume of his voice. It was ear-splittingly loud on its own.
Disoriented, Britta was having trouble rising to her feet like the other women. Her brain told her to follow what the others did; her aching body had other ideas.
“Petty Officer Asado, either ring out or get your lazy butt in gear,” the commander yelled, right in her face. For a brief second, Britta thought about saying that she would tell Madrene on him, but that would mean she expected special treatment, which she did not.
Instructor F.U. looked at her in passing. Then his head snapped back to look at her more closely. “What the hell have you been doing, Asado?”
There was a brief lull in the yelling and noise as everyone, including the women, turned to look at her, then smile. She was wearing the finger sleeping shert which covered her with a modicum of modesty; so, she had no idea why they were all gawking.
“Way to go, girl!” Terri whispered behind her hand.
“Guess she knows what an orgasm is now,” Donita added in a low enough voice the men couldn’t hear.
“Ya look lak ya been wrestlin’ a gator, chère,” Marie added.
Obviously, what she’d been doing the past two days was evident in her appearance.
The commander just shook his head, as if she was a hopeless case. Or more likely that opinion was directed at Zachary.
Master Chieftain F.U. was not about to remain silent, though. “Well, well, well. Someone in this room got laid this weekend. And laid. And laid. And laid. Dare we ask who the lucky fellow was, Asado? Or was it a woman?”
“What a jerk!” Terri murmured.
“Enough of that, Uxley,” the commander said, motioning for the chieftain to leave the room. But to Terri, the commander said, “Did I hear someone complain? Was that you, Evans? Did you dare to complain? Drop and give me twenty and make it quick.”
Terri dropped to the floor and began doing pushing ups.
Master Chieftain Simms, the black-skinned instructor, shoved his way into the little room, too, passing F.U.
on the way out. While he shouted, he was firing his weapon at the ceiling.
They could barely hear him say, “Are you giving me a look, Mz. Leone? Are you giving me a look? I think a little Cargo Net, carrying a fifty pound backpack, might be just the thing.”
Donita glared at him, and Master Chieftain Simms grinned at her, flashing white teeth against his dark skin.
“I’ll give you ladies three minutes to dress and get yourselves down on the beach for some surf appreciation,” Commander MacLean said, holding up the timing bracelet at his wrist.
They were already rustling into their exercising clothes when the box on the wall started to crackle.