Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

stretching out each moment, each touch, then drifting into the next. Hazy afternoon sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains. Dust motes caught on a warm breeze danced in the air.
    Simon trailed his fingers along Elizabeth’s back. Her lithe muscles tensed as she arched into him and buried her head in the crook of his neck. Her skin was like silk, smooth and sensual to his touch. No matter how long he held her, it could never be enough. Everything about her made him want her all the more. The soft, breathy sighs urging him closer. The feel of her hand in his. The way her eyes grew impossibly dark as she whispered his name. Everything conspired to wipe away the fears he’d held close for so long, until all he could see, all he could feel, was her.
    She sighed, her warm breath a feather’s touch along his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body into a secure embrace that could barely echo the need he felt for her.
    Simon closed his eyes and remembered the way her face had looked moments before, flushed with passion. The tendrils of hair cascading across her cheek, her lips swollen from his kisses, and he could see her pulse beating beneath the skin. Every detail, from the pale freckles on her shoulders to the supple curve of her calves seared into his memory. If he were an artist, he was sure he could recreate her in the dark. His hands knew every facet of her body. The remarkable softness of the skin below her belly. The sound of her breathing. The seductive way she always seemed to smell like a forest after the rain, clean and new.
    He maneuvered his head around and kissed her brow. “All right, love?”
    “Mmmm,” she purred and nuzzled into his neck, kissing the edge of his jaw. “More than.”
    He held her a bit more firmly and wondered if he should have told her what he saw at the park. There was no reason to worry her, and doubtless she’d caught on and was trying to spare him the worry.
    He hadn’t gotten a good look at the man, or men. There seemed to be more than one, although he couldn’t be sure. Ever since her revelation that King had been having them followed, he’d had the sense they were never alone. Today at the park was the first time he’d actually seen their shadow. Always keeping a discrete distance, but ever-present, the thick man in the black fedora had trailed them through the park. He should have noticed him sooner. Not that there was a bloody thing he could do about it. Four more days, he told himself. Four more days.
    Elizabeth pushed herself up and re-settled on top of him, folding her arms over his chest and resting her chin atop her laced hands. “What’s wrong? And don’t nothing me. You were grinding your teeth.”
    He thought about putting her off, but she had that look in her eyes. It would be more trouble than it was worth. “We were followed today.”
    “I know. Black hat. Built like a fire hydrant.”
    Damn her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
    “Why didn’t you?”
    Her Socratic method of arguing was frustrating to say the least. Especially when she had a point. He sighed and pushed his head further into the pillows. “I don’t know.”
    “I’ve been thinking...” she said. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and she smirked. “Very funny. I think we should tell Charlie we’re leaving soon. We can’t just disappear one day without so much as a by your leave.”
    “By your leave?” he asked with a chuckle.
    “I was daydreaming about Belvedere castle. Forsooth, pray tell and all that.”
    “Someday I’ll show you a real castle. Leeds perhaps.” His smile faded. “But I don’t think it’s wise to tell Charlie our plans.”
    “Might not be wise, but it’s right. He’s been a good friend, Simon. We need to warn him. Who knows what King might do.”
    “It’s still a risk.”
    Smiling, she scooted down his body and kissed his chest. “Just a tiny one,” she murmured between kisses. “An itty bitty one.”
    She slowly eased her way down his chest to his stomach. “Let’s live dangerously,” she whispered against his waist, before brushing her soft lips against the sensitive skin.
    “Elizabeth,” he started softly, but the rest of his sentence was lost in the feeling of her silky hair brushing against his hip. He tried to remember what he was going to say, but all coherent thought was gone. Charlie was suddenly the last thing on his mind.
    * * *
    Closing time was Elizabeth’s favorite, and not only because it meant the