Lust in Time Read online

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  Lust In Time

  Amarinda Jones

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  Total-e-bound

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Copyright ©2007 by Amarinda Jones

  First published in 2007, 2007

  Lust in Time

  Authors Note

  There is an actual book called The Border Shepherdess. It was written by an author called Amelia E Barr. The copy I have is a first edition that was published in 1887 by a company called James Clarke & Co, Fleet Street, London. I believe it cost me all of one dollar. Like my heroine Arabella, I love books and can never pass any second hand bookstore without buying one or a dozen. My copy of The Border Shepherdess is signed in ink in very neat handwriting—Amy Maud Robjohns February 23rd 1888. Inside there is a yellowed piece of newsprint cut to the size of a bookmark entitled “Methodist Social Afternoon.” It lists who attended, who sang and who recited poetry to entertain the gathering. Although Amy Maud is not listed as attending the festivities I like to think there was a special reason why she cut that piece especially out of the newspaper and put it in the book. Maybe there was a man she loved or maybe not but it's fun to speculate on what might have been.

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  Prologue

  Arabella Smith pulled the clothes hurriedly from her body and stood before the man naked and willing. Nothing parted them now and nothing could stop them. This was meant to be. She had been dreaming about this moment for weeks. She was hot and shaking with need and it both frightened and excited her. It was like a hungry, clawing feeling deep inside of her that she knew only he could fill. Arabella was aware their time was limited and she wanted to make every second count no matter what the cost.

  "What's your name?” Her heart was pounding so loudly that she could barely speak. It seemed crazy that she stood before him naked and wet with wanting and she did not know his name—yet it did not matter as her need for him was so much more important. She craved this man with a desperation she was unaware she possessed.

  "My name is Garrett and I knew you would come to me, honey.” Garrett wrenched his shirt off and pulled down his trousers. His cock stood hard and club-like against his stomach. He smiled as Arabella licked her lips in anticipation.

  "I had no other choice.” She moved to where he stood and reached out to touch his straining shaft. It was so hard and so large. There was so much contained power pulsating under the velvet smooth skin. She longed to have it buried up to the hilt inside her. “I need you, Garrett."

  "And you shall have me.” Garrett pulled Arabella into his arms and kissed her deeply and passionately until they were both panting with overwhelming need. His lips slid down to her breast and he licked her taut pink nipples.

  Arabella shrieked in pleasure at the suction of his mouth on her breasts. She clutched his head to her body and ran her hands through his ash blond hair.

  "Oh how I love you, Garrett,” she moaned fervently. She did not realize until that moment how much she loved this stranger. How could that be? Yet Arabella did—somehow. She adored everything about this man from his scratchy stubble against her breast to his powerful shoulder and his hard cock jumping impatiently up against her stomach seeking entrance to her body.

  "Oh honey, I love you too and we will be together forever soon. I promise,” Garrett vowed against her lips.

  "Take me now,” she demanded in a soft urgent whisper. “I need something to remember you by.” Arabella dropped to her hands and knees and stuck her arse up in the air beckoning him onwards. “Please, Garrett.” She ached with an intense desire to be filled.

  "I know I shouldn't do this. It isn't part of my plan,” he muttered to himself as if trying to justify what he longed to do. “I want to court you properly, Arabella, but this is happening all too quickly.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair as if he fought the desire that raged inside him. “I wanted this to be about seduction."

  "I don't need seduction. I just need you, Garrett.” Arabella barely recognized her own voice. It was so hot and thick with passion.

  "You are going to be angry with me later.” The look in his eyes was that of a man who had been given an opportunity that was too good to pass up.

  Arabella moaned softly in relief as she felt him slide down behind her. The heat of his body against hers was intoxicating. She pushed herself back against him. His cock prodded the cleft of her arse eagerly. She had never felt so wild and free in her life. She loved this man and she wanted this man. It was simple.

  "Now Garrett ... please,” she insisted, her voice ragged with need. Arabella stiffened suddenly as his cock slid inside the wet core of her vagina for the first time. Was it really their first time? It felt so right, so true. No other lover had affected her so.

  "Oh honey, you feel so good and tight,” Garrett growled as he started to thrust in and out of her body. His hands grabbed her breasts and caressed them gently.

  The heat and the friction of his cock inside her would be her undoing, she just knew it. Her head began to pound as the orgasm started to build up inside her. Arabella felt dizzy as sensation overwhelmed her.

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  Garrett pounded hard, knowing their moment was slipping away. He smiled as Arabella came with a scream. He knew she would never forget him. They were two halves of a whole that had found one another. Dream or no dream, what was happening between them was very real.

  "Never let go of the book, honey, when the time comes it will bring you to me.” Garrett came hard and fast inside her.

  "No, I'll never let go,” Arabella murmured as a wild kaleidoscope of colors started to shoot through her mind. “What book ... Garrett?” She collapsed on the floor in a dead faint.

  Chapter One

  "Bloody hell! Where am I?” One minute Arabella Smith had been lying in her nice warm bed, book in hand, listening to the winter wind howling outside her bedroom window in her suburban Brisbane home and the next she was ... well ... where? “I have no idea.” Arabella sat up quickly and looked around her. Nothing looked at all familiar. Uh-oh, Huston, we have a problem. This was not her home.

  "Oh bugger,” Arabella cursed as her head spun woozily. She placed her hands on either side of her suddenly weakened body. Her mind registered the feel of wood under her hands. Polished wood in fact—interesting. She looked down at the floor then at her hands. Yes, they were definitely her hands with their black polished nails. And that was definitely a wooden floor. The book she had been reading was beside her on that wooden floor. Arabella felt a sudden involuntary shiver run through her body. There was a definite problem here. She did not have polished wooden floors in her house. All her floors were covered in ugly cream carpet that was incredibly hard to keep clean. She looked up slowly, her stomach still churning from something she had experienced but could not name at the moment. She was in what looked like a kitchen. But it wasn't her kitchen.

  "Holy shit, Batman.” What was going on?

  "We have another one, sister.” An animated female voice chortled in excitement.

  A woman smiled down at Arabella. She in turn looked back at her blankly as she tried to work out what the hell was going on and why anyone should be so excited to find a stranger wandering into their home. And then it suddenly dawned on Arabella. She slapped her forehead in realization.

  "Oh fuck, that's it! I was sleepwalking.” That could be the only reason that she was lying in her pajamas on some stranger's floor. How embarrassing! “I am sorry, ladies, for the intrusion.” She only ever did the sleepwalking thing when she was under great stress. Unemployment was her greatest stressor at the moment hence the reason she had gone walkabout. Thankfully she wasn't naked like the last time and this wasn't the local park. The police had found her wandering in a daze. At least now,
if everyone kept calm, the cops would not have to get involved and that would be a good thing as she doubted her excuse would seem credible a second time.

  Arabella looked at the two women who came to stand before her. They were initially fuzzy to her unfocused eyes. As her vision cleared she noticed that their smiles were kind and their eyes gentle and welcoming. Excellent—they were not pissed off about her crashing their home. Arabella looked at them dazedly. They did however look odd to her dry, gritty eyes. There was friendship and welcome evident in their faces but something was not right. Arabella looked from one woman to the other. Both were dressed so oddly. Were they wearing full length nightgowns? Or were they just floor length dresses made of—what was that? Muslin ? Who made dresses out of muslin anymore, especially ones with such pretty lace collars? Lace collars ?

  Arabella's mind was feverishly trying to make sense out of what she was seeing. Their hair was neatly coiled up on their heads and she could just make out the neat row of buttons on their leather boots. Buttons on boots? Her eyes flashed from their feet to the room she was in. It was an old-fashioned kitchen. No mod cons. An old stove, no fridge, cast iron pots and there was a calendar on the wall. Okay, so they were not renovators. The kitchen reminded her of a pioneer village recreation she had visited once. It also had a kerosene powered ice box in the corner. Okay so they were weird history freaks . Arabella could handle that. Everyone had their quirks. Her plan was to give her apologies and then leave with as much dignity as one could in bright pink, blue butterfly-patterned flannelette pajamas.

  "Hello dear, don't get up. Just rest until the nausea passes. Aggie, get her some water,” one woman said as she bent and grasped one of Arabella's hands gently.

  Arabella looked at the beautiful cameo at her throat and the watch that was pinned to her bodice. Weird . Then it occurred to her what was going on.

  "This is a dream—oh duh!” That's what this was about. Now it was all making sense to Arabella. Granted the wind no longer rattled at the window panes and she was not in her own home but she knew the reason why. Technically she was still asleep in her own bed but she was caught up in a dream. And what a dream! It had it all—a gorgeous man, hot sex and a young fair-haired woman who needed her help. Who exactly the man was or why she had to help the woman, she did not know. All she could recollect were vague impressions of faces, of smiles and a hot hard male body that made her wet with need. And he had a phenomenal cock. Where was the man with the cock now? When was he coming back into her dream?

  Arabella smiled as she thought about him. He was the same one she had seen in her dreams for weeks yet never before had he come so close to her that she could see or feel his cock. He had always just hovered at the edge of her dream beckoning her ever closer until she gave in and went to him.

  "I would have gone earlier if I had known about the cock,” Arabella murmured softly to herself. Just after the man with the cock had taken her she remembered seeing crazy colors and shapes spinning wildly almost as if they were keeping pace with the ferocity of the wind howling outside. Then the wind had been inside tearing at her body until as suddenly as the colors came they cleared, the force on her body lessened and the room snapped to a sudden stop at the same time as the wind did. And now she was having a dream about two women in an old kitchen. Nowhere near as interesting as the man with the cock. Arabella closed her eyes tightly and tried to will him back to her dream. But he wasn't going to come back. The one thing that did come to her mind was a book.

  "Where is my book?” Arabella asked in a daze. She had been reading a novel when she fell asleep. It was important to her for some reason but for the life of her she could not remember why.

  "It's here, dear,” replied a kindly voice.

  Arabella reached out and took the volume. For dream people they seemed awfully real. She had been told before she had a great imagination—usually when she was lying her arse off to get out of trouble. She looked down at the tome in her hand. She had the book both before her dream and in her dream. She had a feeling it was important to her. There was something more about this than just a novel to be read. Whew! Weird-arsed dream, this one. She sniffed the air. What was that smell? A cake baking? Arabella looked up at the woman who was patting her hand so soothingly and then around the kitchen she was in. She spotted a calendar on the wall. July. Okay, at least that was a good sign. The month was indeed July and it was funny to know she dreamed in line with the month. Arabella looked at the picture of flowers on it. Old-fashioned but pretty. Probably all the vogue in 1888. Arabella dropped the book in shock and sat bolt upright in disbelief as her eyes riveted on the date.1888 ? No way! She strained her eyes to re-read the date. Not July 2008—July 1888.

  "What the...?” Arabella mumbled in confusion as her startled eyes flashed between that calendar, the women and then the book on the wooden floor that was not her wooden floor. Everything was old yet nothing seemed out of place. The only thing that appeared out of place was her in her bright pink pajamas with their bright blue butterflies.

  "This is 1888?"Arabella muttered out loud, hearing her voice but not believing it. This was one hell of a dream but she really wanted to wake up now as it was all becoming a bit too freaky. If the man with the cock walked in she could wing it but if not she wanted out because none of this felt right. In fact it felt too real.

  The woman patting her hand nodded sympathetically. The woman's fingers were warm and soft. If this was a dream would Arabella be able to really feel her touch? She reached over and made contact with the hand holding hers. She stiffened in fright as she felt the other woman's skin. She snatched her arm away. Uh-oh . Maybe this was not a dream. But then what could it be?

  Arabella began to feel dizzy and nauseous. A man's face suddenly flashed into her mind. The man with the cock. He was important to her. How? Why? And was it just because he had sex with her? That had been a dream—hadn't it?

  "Holy crap.” Her hand went to her breasts. Arabella looked down her top. There was pink stubble rash on her skin. Her face flamed with embarrassment. That dull pleasant throb between her legs had nothing to do with waking up on a wooden floor. Her mind began to overload with all she was feeling. She began seeing colors and shapes dance in front of her eyes. Her eyes rolled back into her head and for the second time in her adult life Arabella Smith fainted.

  Three hours ago

  Arabella Smith flung the glossy paperback with the lurid cover across the room. It landed with a thwack up against her television cabinet along with the other four she had thrown in a similar dismissive manner. There was nothing wrong with the novels. They were all well written and had the ability to keep you intrigued as you avidly turned the pages. It was not any of the novels’ fault that Arabella Smith was in the foulest mood she had been in a long, long time. Unemployment sucked.

  Arabella bit back the scream of pure irritated female rage. She would have loved to let out a nice cleansing yell, putting the universe and whichever deity or soul that was listening on notice that she had had enough of her present lot in life. But she did not howl up to the sky. Last time she had given in to that temptation dear little old Mrs. Garvey next door had rung the police, thinking Arabella was being attacked. Arabella snorted to herself in contempt. Heaven help any would-be attacker who decided to force his way into her home at this particular moment as the rage she had curled up inside her was enough to make even the most determined burglar burst into tears.

  This job hunting lark was enough to send the most placid person into a frenzy. Arabella, not known for her placidity, was driven wild by the whole process. It was not the rejections that annoyed her so much. If she just got the standard Due to the high volume of candidates ... mumble, mumble, mumble ... you suck and we are not employing you letter. That she could accept. That she could tear up and say well you did not bloody deserve me anyway . It was the lack of response from would-be employers to her carefully worded resume that pissed her off. That or the promises from job agencies that were never fulfilled
. Job agencies sucked with their plastic staff who did not give a rat's arse if you got a job because they themselves were employed to annoy you with their inattention in finding you employment. It would drive a plaster saint to crack. Not that Arabella would ever consider herself a saint by any means. She was all too human for that.

  "I want a book with bloodthirsty adventure where no one finishes up happy or with whom they expected and everyone feels as pissed off as I do at the moment,” Arabella told herself decidedly out loud. She talked to herself all the time. It was one of the advantages of living alone. She did not have to explain herself or agree with anyone else. She was most definitely the cranky mistress of her own destiny.

  Not only was the whole unemployment thing pissing her off but it was also the dreams that she kept having for the last couple of weeks that were driving Arabella crazy. There were two of them and each time she had either she could not sleep afterwards. The first one was of a woman with light brown hair, a sweet face and a shy smile. She needed Arabella to aid her almost as if Arabella was the only one who could secure her future happiness. Arabella wanted to assist the sweet woman badly but what could she do for a dream? All she knew was she had to help. It was incredibly frustrating.