3. Riley
Riley
I perch on the edge of the bed, staring into space as my mind reels with shock. None of this can be real. None of it. And yet...
And yet, as Wyatt leans in the doorway and watches me, I can tell this isn’t an act for him. I’ve always been good at reading people, and there’s no pretence in the way he’s carrying himself right now, looking back at me with a clear-eyed honesty I can’t find a way to puncture through.
And that girl, that woman, Cora – she’s been through the same thing. I just don’t know how, or why, or what the fuck any of this means, or...
I slump my head to my chest, the wind still howling outside, almost louder than the questions inside my head.
I should get some sleep, and I know that, but I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to rest again with the knowledge of what has happened.
This isn’t meant to be possible, travelling through time, and even if it was – why me? Why here? Why him?
"You should get out of those clothes," he remarks, and I glance up at him in shock.
"What did you-"
"They’re soaked," he adds swiftly, turning to pull open a large oak wardrobe at the end of the bed. "You’ll catch your death in them. Here..."
He pulls out a shirt and what look to be some breeches, and tosses them towards me. I stare at him for a moment as he looks back at me.
"Could you look away, at least...?”
He seems to come to his senses and turns his back on me, and I watch for another moment to make sure that he is not watching me. Not that I’d mind, exactly. I mean, the guy’s hot, in that rugged, old-fashioned way.
His rough hands on my skin to bring me back here, his arm looped around my waist to keep me from tumbling to the ground right then and there.
His hair, a little overgrown, smells like firewood and moss, and his skin has the scrape of stubble to it that only underlines his masculine strength.
I quickly strip out of the yoga pants and sports bra I was wearing, tossing them aside and slipping into the shirt, instead.
It’s big enough that it comes down to my thighs, and the buttons on the breeches look complicated.
I don’t want to stand there fiddling with them when I could just get under the covers and try to get some rest.. .
"I’m done," I tell him, and he glances around, as I bury myself in the scratchy sheets. In the dark, lit only by the slight glow of the moon outside, it looks as though his eyes are glistening with something...darker. Something more dangerous.
He moves to the door, and, before I can think twice, I speak again.
"Can you...can you stay with me?”
He pauses for a moment, his back to me. For a second, I think he hasn’t heard me, and that he’s going to just walk right on out of there. Maybe that’s for the best. But, as my heart thumps in my chest, he slowly turns to face me again, his expression unreadable.
"Stay with you?”
I pat the bed beside me.
"I won’t be able to sleep here alone," I confess. "I..."
But he doesn’t seem to need anything more than that. He moves to the side of the bed and pulls off his shirt, tossing it aside as he slides into the bed beside me.
If the muscles of his body were impressive through his shirt, they’re even moreso when he’s stripped to the waist. His broad shoulders taper down to a narrower waist that’s written with muscle everywhere I look.
"Move over," he grunts to me. I don’t know exactly what this means, for me to ask him to sleep in bed next to me. Back home, I know that a guy would read a whole hell of a lot into it. But shit, I’m in a different time. Maybe I can pass this off as just a matter of warmth, or comfort, or...
He lays down beside me, facing me. I am suddenly distinctly aware of the fact that I am not wearing anything below the waist, my bare legs stretched out not far from him.
My fingertips tingle as I imagine running them over his chest, drawing him into me once and for all, but I force myself to hold back.
"You sleep better like this?” he asks, and his voice has suddenly dropped to a striking softness. I manage to nod.
"I think so..."
"What about like this...?”
Before I can say another word, he reaches for me, drawing me against him, his arm snaking around my waist with a confidence that leaves no room for argument.
I draw in a sharp breath, a heat boiling over in my belly. In all this madness, all this chaos, all this confusion, there is a part of me that still makes sense – a pure, needy, wanting part of me that seems to be the only thing I can cling to right now.
And I’m going to cling to it with everything I’ve got.
Before I can stop myself, I lift my hand to his face and kiss him. His mouth is rough, his tongue parting my lips at once, and his grip tightens on my waist as he pulls me against him roughly.
I can feel the pressure of him through his pants, the hardness already grinding into my bare hip, and the shirt rides up to reveal that I am entirely naked.
He lets out something between a groan and a growl against my mouth as he moves his knee between my legs, parting them easily as he reaches his hand to caress me.
I am already slick with desire for him, my want pooling between my thighs, undeniable. His fingers glide along the outside of my folds for a moment, and then, he rolls on top of me.
He pins me to the bed in a sudden rush of passion that would be almost frightening if it wasn’t so entirely thrilling.
He kicks down his pants just far enough that he can take himself into his hand, the covers falling away to expose our bodies tangled together, and I lift my hips, teetering pleasure pulsing right there as I wait for him to enter me.
I might not know why I’m here, but I know that I want him, and I will take anything I can get right now to hang on to.
He pulls my leg a little further and guides himself to my entrance, sinking into me up to the hilt in one motion. My eyes widen and a gasp escapes my lips as I wind my legs around him, snaking into him, pulling him as close as I can.
He presses his forehead to mine, his hands travelling all over my body like he hasn’t had a chance to touch someone like this in longer than he’d care to remember. The thought of him taking out all that frustration and desire on me gets me off like nothing else.
It’s as though this gorgeous man has been waiting for me to appear out of nowhere and gift him something he couldn’t have even imagined.
Our bodies are flush together as he moves into me, and the noises he make sound like they would have been more suited to an animal than a man.
This feels good in ways that nothing ever has before, like we were made to fit together like this, my body invented to invite his as deep as I can take it.
I slide my fingers into his hair to guide his face to mine and kiss him deeply again, our tongues moving against each other like I’m trying to find a language to speak that would make all of this make sense. ..
And then, all at once, he drives himself into me one more time, grinding his hips deep against mine, and I feel the sudden twitch of him within me – the warmth of his manhood filling me to the brim.
And it’s that, for as reckless as it is, that takes me where I need to go, a last cry escaping my lips as I finally give in and let the pleasure take complete control of me.
My body spasms against his, thighs trembling as my hands move across his strong back and shoulders, taking him in as though he is the only thing that matters.
And, as I hold him there, it’s easy for me to believe he is. I might not have a damn clue what is going on here, but I know that this feels right.
And God knows I will take whatever I can get right now.