DREAMS OF TOMORROW: A NEW ADULT TIME TRAVELING ROMANCE (Ravenhurst Series) Page 6

  He pushed them away. “Do not.”

  Marguerite flushed, embarrassed to her core, but obeyed. He stared down at her, his dark gaze making her warm all over again. She watched as he lifted his hand, tracing a lone finger down across her breast, and encircling her nipple, making it taut in seconds.

  Darias smiled, when she gasped in shock, her eyes full of wonder as he slid his other hand lower, down her stomach, and further still, until he found the spot he sought between her thighs. It was still moist from their love play. He felt himself begin to harden once more. Normally he would have finished his business and left it at that. But not with her, for some reason he couldn’t keep his hands from her, and that thought shook him to his core.

  Watch where you are going

  RAVENHURST * PRESENT DAY

  THE first shards of morning light drifted into the chamber through a crack in the heavy silk draperies. Birds chirped merrily in raucous song. The racket would have irritated the shit out of Raven on any other day, but not today. She felt like she did when she was young, anxious to see what wonders the day held in store.

  Normally it was quite the opposite. She would stay in bed until the last possible moment, hating to leave the comforts of bed but today was different. She had better things to do than lay in bed and dream. Heck, she was living a dream while she was awake.

  Today she was going to go through another room, and she could hardly wait to see what treasures she might unearth. Fine, that wasn’t completely true; she was also looking forward to seeing Reed and his brother. Seriously, how many girls got a chance to go through a house that was really more of a castle, with not one, but two handsome men in residence as well? It really didn’t get much better than that…well it could… get better, that is. Maybe they would both vie for her attention.

  Right, now she was really reaching… she giggled foolishly and shook her head that was already drifting off into the clouds.

  Pulling her mind back she tried to focus on the matter at hand. First things first, she needed to get ready. The clouds of her daydreams could wait until she was home with nothing better to do but eat ice cream and watch movies. Climbing from the bed she scuffed her feet across the carpet and walked over to the dresser. Bottles were scattered about on top, half-upright, the others lying on their sides. Checking each one she set them to rights, thankful none seemed broken. She stared at them curiously, wondering why they were all misshapen. Did an earthquake happen while she was asleep and she just didn’t feel it? She thought for a moment, no—that wasn’t it. Vaguely she remembered her battle with her yoga pants and falling into the dresser, the slight dull ache in her side a reminder. She lifted her t-shirt and looked. There was a slight purplish bruise that marred her skin. She poked at it for a minute. It was tender, but she had certainly had worse. She dropped her shirt back into place and began to arrange the bottles.

  “One, two, three, and four…” she counted, placing her finger on the top of each of the cut glass bottles and jars. The sharp edges and the elaborate detailed design cut into the glass were reminiscent of early American brilliant. She lifted one of them up, examining it closer, while she checked for the three distinct tells that would indicate true EAPG (Early American Period Glass). One: Weight. This was definitely heavy. Two: Sound. She flicked the bottle with her index finger. The distinct ring hummed out. Three: Cut. She ran her fingers over the elaborate design. It was sharp, not smooth.

  “Well now aren’t you pretty,” she said, as she set it down carefully back into place next to the others. The sharpness of the cut was a good cheat for a true early cut glass piece as well as the weight. Early American Brilliant was heavy. A mid-size bowl could weigh over five pounds and would attest to whether it was an early piece or done later when the glass was formed and then cut. These traditionally did not have as elaborate of a pattern. The one she just held in her hand was easily worth over a hundred dollars, and if it was signed it was worth even more. Very few people knew the true value of such pieces, assuming they were more recent. But to a true collector there would be good cheats for those as well. You could check the pattern; if it was dull, it was more than likely a pressed piece of glass that was done later in the century and wasn’t as heavy. Sunlight could help in a pinch, that way you could see how many varying shades of color there were in the piece, which attested to the artisan’s talent in cutting. It was a rare treat to find one in this good of a condition without any chips, or fleabites. (A fleabite was merely a very small chip, invisible to the eye but you could feel it with your hand.) Most collectors didn’t mind the fleabites as it was almost impossible not to have them, but this set was impeccable. She was looking at well over five hundred dollars’ worth of glass, if not more, especially if it was signed.

  She walked over to grab her camera and snapped off a few quick photos, and then set her camera back down on the dresser. She would have to cross-reference the pictures with books on American Brilliant to discern the period. As with most pieces, the earlier the time frame the better the piece—hence the worth was greater.

  She looked at the dresser wondering if there were any other goodies tucked inside. She opened the top drawer to her left. It was filled with beautiful, hankies just like the one she carried in her own bag. The material felt like silk, with exquisite hand–stitched designs on the edges. She lifted a pretty yellow one with delicate flowers on the corners. It was monogrammed with the initials M.E.D. and she fingered the material wondering whose name it was. It didn’t matter really. Collectors didn’t usually mind monogrammed hankies, as long as they were in good condition. These looked like they had never even been used. The one she had in her own purse was monogrammed as well and she loved it. Of course her own was not as nice, but she used hers quite often. She had picked hers up at an antique shop.

  She decided to wait and look through the rest of the drawers later and walked over to the table near the fireplace to turn on her iPod. The music blared throughout the room. She turned the volume down a tad. She didn’t want to wake the house. It was still early, after all. She bounced over to the chair in the corner—her constricting jeans she had tossed carelessly on the floor the evening before were neatly folded on top. The maids were bringing their A game again today…well so was she. After a quick pit check, she decided to forgo a shower and tossed her hair carelessly on top of her head in a loose topknot. She went into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and put on some more deodorant (just in case). Once finished, she walked back out into the room and pulled a rumpled but comfy vintage t-shirt out of her suitcase and pulled it over her head and grabbed up her freshly washed jeans. She pulled them on and was frankly surprised when they didn’t suffocate her immediately. Her day was already looking up. She smiled happily and tugged on her bright red Uggs. Maybe she was losing weight. The way she was dancing across her room she was already well on her way to a good workout. It didn’t matter though; she was looking forward to what goodies she might unearth today. She checked over her appearance in the strange mirror that went all the way to the floor. She turned sideways. She did look skinnier, and something else…what was it? Her blue eyes twinkled merrily back at her, her complexion flushed. It reflected an expression she wasn’t used to seeing, especially so early in the day. She recognized the look…although it had been a while since she had seen it. She looked happy.

  Yes, it seemed like it was going to be a really good day, a really, really good one. She grabbed her pen, folio, and unhooked her iPod. She put the buds in her ears and turned up the volume as she tucked it into her back pocket. Grabbing up her camera from off the bureau she reached out and opened the door to her room. Bobbing her head to the song as she danced out into the darkened hallway in mid chorus to Katy Perry’s Firework-boom boom boom… even brighter than the moon moon moon…boom boom boom… she boomed into something for real, bringing her uninhibited dancing to a screeching halt. Whatever she hit fell to the floor hard, vibrating it underfoot. She yanked the ear buds out. Knowing her luck, it was a price
less antique. Her entire body tensed and she turned slowly around, afraid of what damage her ass had just done. “Oh crap!” she gasped in horror. What she ran into wasn’t an it…it was a who. She dropped her things to the floor and rushed forward, kneeling down.

  “Oh no, Milford, what have I done to you?” She patted his body, checking to make sure she didn’t do any permanent damage. He was laid out flat as a fritter, his eyes rolled back in his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back. Just stay here,” she reassured him, although it was highly unlikely he would move, since she had knocked him out cold. Still, saying it made her feel a little better. She was big on talking to herself when she needed to calm down.

  Her options were on the slim side. She could yell and wake up the entire house or try one of the doors in front of her. She jumped up, rushed over to the first door, and grabbed the handle. Taking a deep breath pushed open the door. “Please don’t be Reed,” she mumbled and stepped inside the room. Dark shadows hung heavily around the room but glimpses of morning light were starting to spill through a slight crack in the heavy curtains. She could make out an outline on the bed and walked towards the edge. It was Reed. Oh great. He was sound asleep. She blew out a stream of air, and leaned over his body. She reached out and shook him gently. “Reed.”

  He moaned, but didn’t wake. She leaned closer, her face inches from his. “Reed!” She shook his shoulder, again. That was a big mistake. As soon as her hand touched his bare skin, she felt a jolt course through her body as her vision skewed.

  One moment Reed was sound asleep; the next he was jolted awake. A sharp pain shot up his arm. He opened his eyes, not to his room, but to another scene, a disturbing one.

  The smell of sex permeated his senses, waking him fully. He could do nothing but stare. His mouth hung open, slack jawed.

  A couple materialized before him, in the throes of passion. Reed’s eyes widened. He couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. How in the hell was he seeing any of this? He was aghast and rightly so. Why in the hell was he seeing a man making love to a woman? His eyes traveled past the man down to the woman, her long dark hair falling across the pillows, her small breasts bouncing underneath the man as he thrust inside her body. Reed watched for a moment more, he couldn’t help himself. Surely, his eyes were playing tricks on him, but the vision did not fade.

  Raven was trapped against Reed, who held onto her like she was his lifeline. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut to block out the scene, having no idea they were both seeing the same thing. Every time she opened her eyes, she could see a man making love to a girl. Not just any man either, a magnificent one. She was getting warm all over watching. It was a moving scene, but she could not figure out how or why she was seeing it. She struggled to break free, Milford needed her. “Let go,” she gasped out, pushing against Reed’s bare chest.

  Reed held onto her arms with both hands, not letting go.

  Raven pushed harder. “Reed, let go,” she ground out, pressing her fingers against him.

  Reed opened his eyes, blinking rapidly, the vision disappearing. A face slowly came into focus as the earsplitting ringing ebbed. He shoved her away, reflexively.

  Raven tumbled off his body, falling to the floor hard with a loud thud.

  “Ow! That hurt!” she whined.

  “What the…” Reed shook his head, trying to make sense of what was even happening.

  “Milford needs help,” she managed to say, crawling up on all fours.

  “What?” Reed asked, rubbing his eyes, sitting up fully.

  Raven braced herself on the bed, kneeling now. “Milford needs help.”

  Reed shook his head and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He went to stand, but remembered belatedly he was naked.

  Raven was eye level with Reed’s unmentionables.

  Reed stared at Raven until she turned her head and grabbed his robe. He tossed it on. But not before Raven got a really good eyeful. Damn he looked good naked. She averted her eyes, even though she didn’t really want to. Who in their right mind would? Not her, she wasn’t a damn saint.

  He stood up, and almost fell back over. Raven lifted her hand to steady him, but Reed sidestepped her. “Do not touch me again,” he warned.

  Raven obeyed, not knowing why he was being such a dick to her.

  What in the hell did she do? Well… besides wake his ass up unexpectedly, and if he saw what she saw, she apparently launched him into someone else’s romp session, which was too weird to even contemplate the reasoning behind that.

  “Where is he?’ Reed asked, running his hands over his face.

  “Who?” she asked distracted. Her top teeth tugged on her lower lip as her gaze lingered on his muscular chest. “Milford.”

  “Oh my gosh…Sorry, he’s out in the hall. I ran him over.”

  “What do you mean you ran him over?”

  “Well I didn’t mean too, so stop looking at me like I did it on purpose,” she defended, brushing her hair away from her face. It had come undone from being shoved to the ground.

  Reed let out a frustrated sigh. “Where?”

  “He’s in the hall.” She struggled to stand.

  Reed crossed the room quickly, pushed the door open fully, and walked into the hall.

  Raven was right behind him in seconds. He stopped so abruptly she almost slammed into his back.

  Reed turned around and glared at her.

  “What?”

  “Where is he?”

  Raven tried to move around him, but gave up and simply pointed to where Milford was lying. “He’s right over there.”

  Reed turned back around. “Where is he?”

  “Oh my God, are you blind?” she asked, shoving her way past him, she pulled up short. Milford was no longer in the hall. Her iPod, pen, and folio were gone, as well.

  Reed gave her a harsh look of disbelief.

  “What?” she said. “Why would I lie?” Her voice raised an octave. “Come on… seriously? I swear he was there a minute ago. So was my stuff, which is now gone, I might add.”

  “Where is your stuff?” he asked crossing his arms across his chest.

  “Well, um…”she looked around on the floor and lifted her eyes back to his. “ Obviously someone moved it.”

  Reed gave her another look of incredulous disbelief, crossed the hall to the table, and lifted up her folio and pen. “This stuff?” he asked incredulously.

  “Um…” She bit her lip, feeling suddenly stupid. “Well, yes… that is my stuff, but it was on the floor. I swear.”

  “You swear?”

  “Yes, I swear.”

  “Is that a pinky swear or some other kind of swear?”

  Raven shifted awkwardly. “Oh I see what you are getting at. You are so not funny, you know,” she mumbled. “And no it is not a pinky swear. It is a normal swear.” She glared at him. “What is the matter with you?”

  He gave her another incredulous look. “I was ripped from a perfectly good slumber and tossed into one of your strange visions again.”

  “Oh my God, so you saw them too?” she gushed excitedly, relieved she was not the only one who saw the heated scene.

  He ran his hand through his hair. “I guess.”

  “Did you or didn’t you?” she pushed.

  “So what if I did. It was not my dream. It was yours. I never saw that man before in my life.”

  An image of aforementioned man flashed in her mind, making her cheeks flame with color. Oh, she remembered him all too well. He was magnificent. “Neither have I,” she argued lamely.

  “Don’t play me the fool. It was your vision, not mine.”

  “Hey! I never had a vision before in my life, well that is… until I came here,” she mumbled.

  “See, it is your fault,” he said making his point.

  “No it’s not.” She crossed her arms. “It’s your fault.”

  “How is it my fault?” he questioned darkly.

  “It only happens when I am touching you.”

&nb
sp; He lifted his brow at her. “Is that so?”

  Raven swallowed hard. She coughed trying to clear her throat. Reed stared her down. “Hey, it’s not like I planned it or anything.”

  “Didn’t you?” he asked.

  “Didn’t I what?”

  “Plan it,” he said. “Why else would you come into my room?”

  “Well it wasn’t to jump your bones, if that is what you are asking.” She shook her head. That defense did not sound as sure as she hoped. An image of his body flashed briefly in her mind as well, making her feel heated all over again. It was a rather nice body after all.

  He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Okay, I think we need to examine this further.”

  “We do?” she squeaked, her eyes widening, as they traveled the length of him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing,” she squeaked, jerking her eyes back to his.

  “It doesn’t look like nothing.”

  “Oh please, get over yourself.”

  “Get over myself?” he shook his head. “You are undressing me with your eyes.”

  Raven face flamed. She was busted. Of course she would never admit that, ever. “I was not.”

  “Oh really?” he gave her a look of disbelief.

  She bit her lip, looking at the front of his robe. She had to stop. She was making a fool of herself. “It’s a wonder you can walk at all with that big head of yours.”

  Reed laughed, it was deep and throaty. “Well, it does take some effort, especially in the morning.”

  Dawning finally hit Raven and when it did, she almost fell over with embarrassment. “Oh my God, I was not talking about that.” She averted her gaze quickly.

  “Weren’t you…” he asked, his voice coming out soft and heavy at the same time.

  Raven visibly shivered. “I got to go.” She dashed past him and grabbed her stuff off the table.

  “Ms. Tremaine…”

  Raven froze halfway down the hall … “Yes…” she called over her shoulder, not turning around.

  “I want to see you…”