Kayla’s clitoris was pulsing with fierce orgasm. Her body shook even as Steve continued pumping hard and fast. She didn’t want it to end, but the intense overload of her climax was already past its apogee. Steve felt that she needed it to stop, but Kayla pulled him into her and clenched her vagina. Steve moaned at the pure sex he felt course through him.
“God!” she huffed. “Harder!” she whimpered, “harder!”
Kayla’s left leg was wrapped around Steve’s waist as her right leg hung over his shoulder. His knees dug into the mattress of the private jet’s pull-out couch as he buried his cock deep into the wetness of his wife. And just as he knew would come, he could feel it when the ache of her overstimulation quickly turned to another lusty build. He’d been holding back, though, and now that she wanted more, the painful need to release was screaming at him.
“I gotta come, baby!”
“Not yet!” Kayla’s words were a drug. “Don’t stop!” Her eyes locked with his, and she squeezed her vagina again in what became the most euphoric torture.
Steve couldn’t take anymore. “I wanna feel you come on my fingers, baby. Give it to me!” He reached down, ground his thumb into her swollen clit, and swallowed up her moans with his kiss. Her second orgasm was harder than the first, and he felt powerful when that bundle of nerves pulsed around his thumb.
The cum finally shot out of Steve’s cock like ecstasy. The waves of pleasure were a bliss that no matter how many times he had it would never be enough. He was outside himself. And even when Kayla couldn’t help but bite into the flesh of his pectoral muscle with the pleasure the continued strokes of his thumb were giving her, it wasn’t enough to draw Steve out of his rapture. In fact, the bite that would be leaving a mark only drew it out more.
Kayla pulled on Steve’s arm, her clit screaming to be released from his unbroken pressure. He obeyed and took her hand, interlacing his slippery fingers with hers. Her wet walls continued to pulse, milking all of the semen from Steve’s body. Finally, the dull ache replaced his tremors, and Steve fell dizzily on top of her. “Everything I have is yours,” he panted hotly into her neck, recalling the vow he’d made to her both today and all of those yesterdays. “Everything I have …,” he kissed her gentle flesh, “is yours …” he kissed her again. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Kayla barely whispered as she tried to catch her breath. “Forever, I love you.”
Their vows washed over them as the waves of the Atlantic crashed upon themselves below.
It was four hours later when Steve woke to the morning sun shining through the jet’s window. Kayla was already awake, laying naked on her belly as she stared out the window.
“Morning, Sweetness,” he rasped in a sleepy voice.
“Mm,” Kayla cooed. “Morning.” She scooted over and rested her chin on his chest as she looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling. “At least I think it’s morning.”
“Yeah, we’re flying through it, but it’s still morning.”
It wasn’t the first time the white, satin comforter reflected the sunlight onto his wife in this airplane. But it also wasn’t the second. He didn’t like that most recent memory of jumping here right after they’d lost Emily. It was only a few minutes, but they were bad minutes that had sullied the beauty of what this was for them. “What’s wrong?” Kayla asked.
Steve smiled gently. “Not sure how anything could be wrong after last night,” he said, attempting to just skirt past it. Kayla reached over and tousled a lock of her husband’s blonde hair and patiently waited for him to fess up. “We’ve jumped here before. After Emily. It was messed up.”
“We were messed up,” she said. “But we’re better now.” Kayla sweetly kissed his pectoral muscle right on the dark, red blotch she’d left for him, then dug her head into his chest.
Steve smiled and stroked her hair as she embraced him warmly. “I’m glad we got a redo on the redo. ‘Cause this is a place that didn’t need any kind of redoing in the first place.”
“It was an unfortunate place to jump,” she agreed, “so yes, a very good redoing of what we’d redone.”
Steve chuckled at their wordplay. “Yeahp, my baby had quite the doing last night, didn’t she?”
“Sure did,” she replied. “You and your pent up energy had your way with me.”
Steve chuckled. “Baby, I think you’re the one who had your way with me.”
Kayla turned up her head and gave him a very haughty look. “Complaining?”
“Sweetness, I told you. What I have is yours. You have your way with me whenever you want.”
They both laughed and snoozed for just a bit longer before getting up, cleaned, and presentable to Cap and his crew (who like last time, made themselves completely scarce for the duration of their flight).
“This is your captain speaking, we’re making our descent into CPH. If you need anything before that seatbelt sign goes up, we’re about 25 minutes out, just pick up the phone.”
Kayla couldn’t help but tidy up as Steve stripped the bed and stuffed it back into the couch frame. Then they buckled in and knew the business end of their trip had now begun. They were both more than ready for it, but they were also scared. Because for the first time – the very first time in all these years of jumping – they were being proactive in what would be happening next. The devil they knew was that nothing was going to be permanent and that they’d be jumping for several more years until the 16 were reached, to wherever the slipstream took them. The devil they didn’t know was, literally, anything else. Including ceasing to exist at all.
This was a much shorter trip than they’d taken to the Orient, but it was still more than eight hours, which had allowed them to land right at mid-day local time. Steve wanted to hit the ground running and make a beeline directly to Copenhagen University, but Kayla convinced him to slow down so they could get their ducks in a row.
Neither Steve nor Kayla had ever been to Denmark and knew not a lick of Danish. Copenhagen International Airport, luckily, had plenty of English signage, but not so much in Copenhagen proper. So, getting the rental car was easy, but without the age of GPS, navigating this foreign country old school was going to be harder. Still, Steve was no stranger to the Nordic culture, and he was able to convince Kayla that he’d do just fine with a good old-fashioned map. Though he, grudgingly, agreed to take themselves and their one small bag a piece directly to their hotel, Kayla was impressed at her husband’s comfort with the landscape.
“You’re doubting me?” Steve only half joked, as the other half was genuinely chomping at the bit to get to the college.
“Maybe I just want to take in the coast in this very cool car,” Kayla replied.
“Pfft,” Steve disagreed. “It’s not the Bluesmobile.”
“No, but it sure is fun.”
The 1988 Ford Fiesta convertible was very small and a very typically European model of rental car for the time. They both fell silent the rest of the way to the hotel, ruminating on the fact that they were not here to have fun. And, in fact, none of this was likely to be any fun at all.
The Hotel Kong Arthur was built more than 100 years ago as a residence, transitioned to a hotel in the 20th century, and was still going strong as of the day Steve and Kayla made their first jump in 2009. If it were another time, they’d let themselves enjoy the historic Nansensgade Quarter that was truly bustling with culture, shops, and cuisine. Instead, they opened up a phonebook and began making a plan.
It was a relatively non-descript, typical mid-‘80’s hotel room with a queen bed, a desk, a couple chairs, and a TV. Kayla sat at the small desk while Steve sat on the edge of the bed beside her ticking off details for her to capture in writing. Again. If nothing else, my penmanship has improved exponentially, Kayla joked to herself. They had no idea how long they’d have here, so they wasted no time and got to work.
Dr. Wilhelm Rolf sat alone in his small apartment in Copenhagen. If he’d had a better attitude he could still be at his desk in the quantum research lab. He could have reached tenured status as a professor at the Niels Bohr Institute or even Chief Researcher. But it was easy to see why a man like Rolf hated the Institute and the facility’s namesake so. It was, literally, where the foundation of atomic physics was created, by Bohr, himself, in the very building that was named after him, the year before he’d even won the Nobel Prize for his works. He was a legend in his own time and beloved for it. His name was everywhere, his legacy was endemic to the very air they breathed here, and just the building, alone, was already a UNESCO National Historic site right now in 1988. It was all Niels all the time, in a scientific discipline that would always recognize the late genius as the hero.
Rolf, too, had made enormous work of this discipline, but was his name on a building? No. He’d proposed theoretical models on any number of topics, but had his peers lauded them as new frontiers? No, they mostly considered them science fiction. Bohr’s atomic model? Simply Rolf’s groundwork. Bohr’s veritable discovery of quantum mechanics? The infant to the slipstream that Rolf had just begun in this day to conceptualize. One day in the very far future, the Niels Bohr Medal of Honor would be created and could have been more than earned by the incredible research and contributions that Rolf would make with the mechanics of time. But that was not how this would go for him. Instead, he would be letting dark jealousy eke out of his borderline personality and definitive narcissism. His demand for respect would overshadow the work that, by all rights, he should have been lauded for. It had already allowed Stefano Dimera’s charm and acknowledgement of his brilliance to lead him away from using his powers for good once, and when Stefano next called on him it would again. And eventually, it would make Dr. Wilhelm Rolf the man that chose Steve and Kayla as his time travelling guinea pigs.
Rolf wasn’t just a physicist, he was a true prodigal scientist. Early in the decade, Stefano Dimera had heard about this brilliant man and given him a project with the unlimited freedom to do what the University wouldn’t. It was that project that allowed him to break scientific barriers that would have changed the world. He developed drug cocktails, methods to suppress native personalities and imprint new ones. He broke the science of suspended animation wide open, with research on those at the brink of death to be practically raised back to the living. He combined these two disciplines with what ultimately became The Pawn, a persona that changed the lives of Roman Brady and John Black forever.
Rolf tried to make the Institute understand. He tried to show the University what his discoveries could mean. But they called him insane. They said even if what he said was true that the manipulation of human beings in this way was unethical. They refused to fund any research, comparing live experiments to those of Joseph Mengele. And they invited him not to come back.
And so, Rolf had departed the University of Copenhagen in a mad huff of frustration. And it was this absence as of seven months ago without yet being on Stefano’s permanent payroll that made him hard to find in this day of 80’s analogue.
Twenty-one years from now was another version of this man, furiously processing one computation after another. Some by hand, some halfway done before he’d have to stop and wait for another jump so he could start again. What lasted for days or months or years for Steve and Kayla passed in seconds, minutes, or an hour for Rolf. The brief ones didn’t give him enough time to calculate a jumping in point for him, and since he no longer knew when one was coming, the frustration of making one wasted effort after another was unbearable. He thought after that one personal visit in 1989 that they understood that they couldn’t make changes, but then the slipstream just got worse and worse. This couple’s actions, alone, in his judgment, were the variable to blame. It wasn’t just out of control anymore, it was chaos. Rolf hated chaos. And now he hated them, too.
“I should just leave you where you are, you idiotisch ingrates!” he yelled in a Germanglish mashup. Du kannst nicht do what you’re told!” It would have actually been so much easier for him to do that, too. The hours he had left before the experiment was over were very few, and two hours ago, that’s exactly what he would have done. But now it was so off the rails that he wasn’t sure the end point could even be achieved anymore. And that was the only reason he didn’t shut the whole thing down and abandon them. His curiosity. His absolute need to know. So he could try again. So that he could harness time. Living forever was not that hard if you knew how to preserve essence and deposit it where one saw fit. He’d already mastered the former. Now if he could just master the ability to deposit it in one’s own actual, younger body during their actual lifetime, that was literally everything. It was the fountain of youth. It was literal immortality. It was the world at his feet.
And it was the only reason he was bothering to go on with these two idiots who couldn’t follow simple instructions.
Back in 1988, Steve and Kayla were doing something they hadn’t done together in quite some time. They were snooping. They wanted to make the most of their time before a jump took them, so they didn’t pull any punches on what they were doing there. They’d thought they might stick out like sore thumbs roaming around the campus, but in fact, they fit in rather nicely. The University was home to all ages of students, professors, and staff, and they certainly looked like natives of the region. The campus was quite large, and contrary to their expectations, they hadn’t garnered a second look from anyone. Until, that is, they’d started asking questions in the Dean’s office.
“I fink I’ve haerd of him …” The student’s tone was reticent as he eyed Steve’s patch. This was exactly why they’d agreed that Kayla would do all the talking.
“You see,” Kayla said with a compelling charm that could connect to a dead tree, “he’s a bit of a long lost relative in my genealogy study.”
“You ahr a student vrom the genetics lahb?”
“Ahh … more like history.”
“But you ahr Ahmerican?”
“Studying abroad.”
“I look you up.”
“Prospective!” she interjected quickly. Steve tried not to bounce back and forth on his feet. “Prospective transfer student. To study abroad!” Danes were not a warm, friendly group upon first encounter, and Steve could feel them losing this guy. Kayla could feel Steve’s anxiety and got a handle on this conversation. “I just learned that I had relatives here in Denmark as I was doing my genealogy thesis, and saw he worked here at the University of Copenhagen, and I’d been looking at the Travel Abroad program and kind of fell in love with Denmark. So, I decided why not come here and check out the University while I looked for them and kill two birds with one stone?”
The student hadn’t heard that phrase before but was smart enough to deduce what the idiom meant. The girl was very pretty, and looking at her, he couldn’t help but soften up a bit. This guy practically hovering behind her, however, looked like he’d been around the block. “Well … how mahtch do you know of him?”
“Well, we lost track of him when he left the University last year.”
“Just you, I thought. You both ahr related to him?”
“Yes,” Kayla replied very quickly as she gestured to Steve beside her. “Found my … cousin, here … in Stockholm …,” Steve mentally rolled his eyes. “… so, now we’re both on the case.” Kayla winked, which had its desired effect on the student, clearly very close to Kayla’s current age.
In 1979, Steve was able to register Bo for high school without even parental verification. With a little 2009 scrutiny, neither that nor this line of inquiry would have landed at all. But right in the 1988 middle, the checks and balances didn’t quite make it, and the young adult was charmed into partial submission.
The bad news was that he couldn’t or wouldn’t find any contact information. The good news was that he did give them a solid lead to work off of – the location of Rolf’s old office. When they found it, they were delighted that no name plate was currently on the door, which, as they expected, they found locked. Steve came prepared, however, and skillfully picked the simple lock. When they entered, they had a good idea of why it was still unoccupied.
Rolf’s old office was a direct reflection of the organization within the man’s mind. A cluttered mess of piles that, nevertheless, held a definite organization. On the one hand, they were shocked that no one had cleaned it up and reassigned it; on the other hand, they correctly guessed the reason: It would be a royal pain in the ass. Easier and, definitely, cheaper to just leave it until it was truly going to be needed.
The furniture was sparse, just a desk and chair, a lamp, a small credenza, and one guest chair pushed all the way into the corner, clearly signaling that visitors were not plentiful during his time here. It was at this point that they agreed that it was time to let the snooping begin.
Their beeline for the credenza came up empty of anything, he’d cleaned it out before leaving. Steve cursed, but Kayla sat right down to start looking through the piles. The overcast sky provided enough light streaming in through the dusty window for them to find mainly University communications, syllabi for colleague’s classes, and many, many pages of mathematical equations. Halfway through the second pile, Kayla’s mood went from very determined to pensively … sad. And not for themselves, but for this pitiful, little man.
Rolf was a senior researcher and scientist at the Institute. He sat in this very chair that Kayla now sat in and had the good fortune to collaborate with the greatest minds in his field. There were several labs at the Institute, and most of them seemed like places he would have spent enough time to make connections; make a real difference. But he didn’t. Kayla didn’t know for a fact that Rolf had spent all of his time alone in this room or in the labs without colleagues; nevertheless, she knew it was true. And despite her abject hatred for him to have put them through all of this, she couldn’t help but feel really and truly sorry for him. For whatever it was in his past or even just in his brain that led him to this lonely life. And for the fact that he’d never know the kind of human connection that made people care about others.
“Sweetness, I got somethin’!” Kayla came out of her sympathetic moment and snapped right to hopeful attention. “It’s a couple years old, but it might be paydirt, baby!” He pushed the single piece of paper across the desk to his wife and pointed to the relevant line of text.
Kayla’s eyes widened and a smile spread across her face. “This is paydirt,” she replied. “It has to be.”
According to the address listed on the old department contact list Steve found, they were now standing at the doorway of the apartment building belonging to Dr. Wilhelm Rolf. Very unlike the hotel or the University, this was not a place either of them wanted to linger.
“A little sketchy,” Kayla said softly as Steve traced his finger down the well-worn directory.
“Real shocker,” he replied
“Actually, it is,” Kayla disagreed. “He made a lot of money, why does he have to live in this part of town?”
“It costs a lot of dough to be up to no good, baby.” Kayla shrugged and figured he was probably right. Which he was. Legitimately surprising, however, was the fact that Rolf’s name was actually on the door. Steve stared at the white letters raised on the black label, and it was definitely there. After all the hoops they had to jump through just to get here, finding his name right there on the door seemed too easy. “I think we’re being punked.”
“He’s not turned enough to the dark side to hide himself yet,” Kayla replied, “so let’s just count our blessings on this one.”
“The dark side? Baby, did you just make a Star Wars reference?”
“Sci-fi isn’t my favorite genre, but I do pay attention,” she smiled.
They allowed themselves a chuckle, but were both practically vibrating with anticipation to just get to the man. Steve had the front door open in short order, and within moments were at the door of Rolf’s basement apartment. They looked back and forth – at what they had no idea, they’d just come to expect trouble wherever he was – and then Kayla simply knocked on the door.
Just a moment later, a voice came from the other side. “Ja?” it called. Then after a beat, “hvem er det?”
Steve just stared at the door. He didn’t know Danish, but he knew the man’s voice. Kayla was too hopped up on adrenaline to see that her husband’s jaw had started pumping. “Um, D-Dr. Rolf?”
A shadow fell over the peephole, then before they knew it, the doctor opened the door. “Ja, jeg er Dr. Rolf,” he replied in Danish. “Og du er?”
Kayla had no idea what Rolf had said, but this younger version of the man she’d last seen when her daughter was an infant brought her a paralytic level of PTSD that she hadn’t been expecting. Kayla’s mouth was open, her mind reaching for words that weren’t forthcoming. Visions of Emily assailed her as her eyes watered. She could smell her daughter’s freshly shampooed hair and feel her soft cheek against her shoulder. Kayla had imagined all sorts of scenarios of how this first interaction with Rolf was going to go, but none of them included her freezing in trauma-induced shock.
Rolf’s questioning visage was in the midst of changing to annoyed confusion at this unbidden interruption when Steve’s fist made a hard connection with scientist’s cheekbone.
The sound brought Kayla completely out of her PTSD episode. She watched the man go down in a human crumple and saw immediately that he was now out cold. She took a deep breath and blinked slowly in annoyance.
“Real helpful, Steve,” she said as her husband crossed the threshold of the apartment and grabbed Rolf by one arm. “I’m sure he’s going to be a real help now.” Steve dragged him by that arm back into the apartment, and Kayla closed and locked the door behind them.
Oh, just what I needed on a snowy cold day in April. Some hot steamy scenes that progress to intrigue. Thank you!!!!
Nice…dying to get the next chapters!
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