Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28386 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28386 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Epilogue
Blaste
Five Years Later
One of my greatest pleasures in life is watching Shiloh when she doesn’t know I’m there. She gets so lost writing her stories sometimes, she becomes totally engrossed in the words she taps into the typewriter, the surroundings of our humble ranch home ceasing to exist.
I take off my work gloves and set them on the shelf, hang my hat on the hook. And I savor the moment. When I can look at the nape of her sweet neck, watch her fingers fly over the buttons, savor the knowledge that our son is napping in his crib peacefully. The scent of cherry pie fills the kitchen and I know every indentation of the crust, because I woke up extra early this morning to help Shiloh make it. I resent sleep, because it steals precious moments I could be spending with her, my soulmate from the future. The girl who I climbed through time to find. The girl who climbed back through time to find me again.
Shiloh.
My throat burns with so much emotion, I have to press my face to the wall and breathe in and out, but it must be more feeling than I can handle alone, because she senses me. Her chair scoots back and I feel her behind me, her cheek nuzzling into my spine, her arms winding around me so she can slide her palms up my chest.
“Are you okay?” my wife whispers, going up on her toes to kiss the back of my neck.
“No.”
“Mmm.” She drags the hem of my shirt out of my jeans so she can slide her hands beneath, upward on my bare torso, her fingernails coasting lightly over my nipples and making me suck in a breath. This woman. She knows exactly what to do to ground me when my obsessive love spins out of control. When my feelings for her overwhelm and consume me. “We have at least another hour until Benjamin wakes up. Do you want to take a bath?”
“Yes,” I respond hoarsely, my dick starting to throb. “As long as you’re in it with me.”
“I’m with you when it comes to everything,” she murmurs against my ear.
My tongue is thick, my pulse erratic. I can’t begin to explain what my wife means to me, what she does to me, how we’ve grown impossibly closer over the last five years. Magnetized and inseparable. When I think back to that day I spent in the twenty-first century, when I thought we couldn’t possibly get any closer, more connected, I wish I’d known what was coming. How I’d grow painfully, wildly, uncontrollably infatuated with my Shiloh.
She takes my hand and we walk through the house, one that has yet to be transformed by modern appliances and hardware, bringing me into the bathroom. She closes the door, locks it, running water into the big, claw foot tub that has been there for generations, but only recently received the benefit of indoor plumbing. It won’t be there in the future, as far as we know, but maybe things will change. Shiloh being brought back to the forties very well could have changed the course of the future. Likely did.
For instance, mine and Shiloh’s stories from the future inspired my brother, Jim, to move to New York and study computer engineering. He’s become a pioneer of technology the world hasn’t even seen yet. We reckon this change of Jim’s life course is why he disappeared on the bank of the lake that afternoon, after I was brought back to the past. He was no longer going to be standing at the lake that afternoon, preparing to fish.
Who knows what other ripples we’ve sent into the fabric of time, but here on our ranch, living our quiet, peaceful life, we don’t really care. We’re too wrapped up in each other.
Shiloh finishes filling the bathtub and begins to undress me, unbuttoning my shirt and pulling it off my shoulders, kissing my back as she goes and making me shudder with hunger. Standing behind me, she rubs her palms over my tented zipper, stroking the heavy length of me through the denim, her breath going faster against my bare back.
“Can you look at me yet?” she asks.
“No,” I say, voice in shreds. “Almost.”
It takes me a long time to gather myself enough to look upon her beautiful face. It started the day she returned from the future and I brought her into the house to meet my parents, Jim, and suddenly looking at her face brought me to my knees, terrible joy sucking the breath clean out of my chest. It happens whenever we’ve spent hours apart. I have to get used to her perfection every single time. I have to acclimate to her presence in stages.
She unzips my jeans carefully and fists my cock, pumping her fist up and down my length slowly. “You worked hard today.”