A Time Traveler's Valentine Read online

  The only tattoo I could decipher on my own was the one around his left nipple. My name in his language. I’d called him insane when he’d shown it to me on our fifth anniversary, the second time he’d come to me in this form. I’d fallen for the big, burly Kabal, but there was something about this form that called out to me in all its pale glory. Though now he appeared like this every time we met, I sometimes missed seeing the other forms of my shape-shifter time cop.

  Below my name was the only tattoo he’d had done in my presence. It had been September, or, at least, it had been September on that planet. Kabal had lost his first partner that day, and he’d been drunk out of his skull when we’d met up. Comets, he’d already been drunk when he’d called me and told me he needed me.

  I’d bartered heaven and earth for that trip, even lost a dig to a competitor because of it, but I’d do the same again without hesitation. For Kabal. That weekend had been a tipping point for us. Yes, he’d been grieving, but we’d never talked as candidly as we had, then. He’d held my hand when he got the tattoo, and begged me to fuck him when it was done, in the bathroom of the tattoo place. He’d screamed the house down as he’d let all his emotions go in one big burst, and he’d gotten us thrown out, but all I’d cared about was that he’d needed me, and actually told me so. We had never visited that planet again.

  “If you keep that up, I’m going to come.” Kabal’s voice was rough and scratchy, and my cock hardened at the sound. A glance at his face told me he really was that close. I hadn’t even realized I’d been caressing him instead of merely moving my hands above him.

  He clenched his hands as I kissed the nipple with my name tattooed around it before licking a trail up to his neck. As I nibbled on said neck, I trailed both my left hands down his chest and belly, lingering for a moment to play with the curls above his cock. His breath hitched when I moved on to fondle his balls with one hand while dragging my nails across his cock with the other, and I swallowed his shout with a kiss as he came.

  Gorgeous, simply gorgeous. I wanted to grab hold of him and never let him go. As it was, I cleaned up the mess, threw the tissues into the wastebasket, and snuggled into him as he slowly came back down.

  Kabal kissed the top of my head and sleepily mumbled, “I’m retiring.”

  Images of the ‘for sale’ sign and the way it made me shiver popped up in my head as I froze. He couldn’t be doing this to me now. Today. Here. I couldn’t breathe as he wrapped his arms around me, and I scrambled out of his embrace, out of his reach.

  He seemed confused as I dressed myself, and called after me as I ran out of the door, but I couldn’t bear to listen to anything he had to say, anymore. Not after he’d closed the door so permanently on us.

  HE FOUND ME at the site, sitting in the grass in the rainstorm, shaking and crying. I tried to push him away as he wrapped his arms around me, but this time his bulk worked to his advantage.

  “Tell me, Pet.”

  I shook my head and struggled against his grip. My telling him would only result in him placating me with excuses.

  “I really thought you’d want us to be together.”

  What? “You’re the one who’s leaving me!” I screamed and struggled harder.

  Kabal clamped my arms tightly against my body. “I’m not leaving you. Where did you get that idea?”

  Now I was confused. “How are we ever going to be together if you’re retiring? No recreational trips. No trips at all! You’ll be grounded.”

  “Oh, Pet.” Kabal brushed his lips against my cheek. I pulled away. “I’m sorry. I really messed that up, didn’t I?” He leaned his chin on my shoulder. “How do I look to you right now?”

  “What does that have to do with it?” I bit out as I clenched my fists. If only I could wriggle one of my hands between us, I might get free.

  But Kabal pulled me closer and tightened his grip again. “Please, Pet. Humor me.”

  His hot breath against my neck made me shiver. He was confusing the comets out of me and he wanted me to humor him? I wanted to deck him. I wanted answers... I sighed. Answers I might get if I told him what he wanted to hear. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes. He looked the same as he had before. “Pale skin, tattoos, sandy blond hair, violet cat’s eyes. Dripping wet.” Somehow, I didn’t want to mention his scars.

  Kabal let out a breath and kissed my shoulder. “To everyone around us I look like the burly guy you saw when we first met. But you... you see my true form no matter what.”

  Oh... Oh! My heart pounded in my throat, and I could barely breathe. That was... more than a little awesome.

  “As far as our bodies or our cores are concerned, we’re mated. And because of that, you can see right through any of my shapes and will always see the true me.”

  Kabal’s grip on me loosened, but I was way past running now. I wriggled to free my upper arms and turned around in his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck. “We’re mated? Just like that?” My words were barely more than a hoarse whisper, but they made Kabal smile nonetheless.

  “Well... This is not how I pictured this moment.” He gently unwrapped my arms before shuffling back a little and settling on his knees. He ran a hand through his dripping hair. “I can’t believe we’re doing this in the middle of a cloudburst.”

  All I could do was stare at him as he fished something out of his trouser pocket, but I couldn’t see what it was before he closed his hand around it.

  “To answer your question—” His voice croaked and he cleared his throat. “Yes, according to the old lore, we’re mated. But I would like to make it official.” He held out his closed hand. It was shaking. “For ten years we’ve had to make do with only seeing each other twice a year, and I’ve had enough of that.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued before I could utter a word.

  “I want more. I love you, Ish, and I want to be with you when you go to sleep. I want to wake up with you and make you breakfast. I want to sit on the sofa with you when you come home from a dig and hear you chatter on about it until your voice gives out.” Kabal opened his hand to reveal a braided, violet-colored band. “Will you marry me?”

  My hand moved before I could even process what Kabal had said, and I froze when it all caught up to me. “But... what about your retirement? You’ll be grounded. How—”

  Kabal pressed a finger against my mouth. “A legal marriage allows me to move to my mate’s place and time of residence.” Then he smiled. “And before you start thinking I’ll be stuck on your planet, fulfilling my twenty-five-year contract as a time cop earns me four recreational trips a year for the rest of my life.”

  My ears were ringing, and my heart skipped a beat. My hand shook as I took the band from him and put it around my wrist—my upper left one as tradition dictated. I cleared my throat and looked him straight in his eyes. “Yes.” I smiled. “Oh, comets, yes. I’ll marry you.”

  For a moment, we stood frozen in the pouring rain on the site where we’d first met, staring at each other. And then we both moved forward at the same time, hands grabbing for purchase in the slippery grass, and our teeth clashing as our mouths met in a bruising kiss.

  Acknowledgements

  A big thanks to:

  Valentine’s Day, for bringing me inspiration,

  Professor Howard Williams, who kindly answered my questions about digging up skulls,

  The usual suspects, aka my critters, for helping me iron out the kinks,

  Tami Veldura, for weeding out the repetitive repetitions during the edits, for patiently answering all my cover ‘how to’ questions, and for going above and beyond to help me spruce up my design,

  JJ&D, for being the best of friends,

  My husband and kids, for their love and support.

  About the Author

  Blaine D. Arden is a purple-haired, forty-something author of queer romance mixed with fantasy, mystery, and magic who sings her way through life in platform boots.

  Born and raised in Zut
phen, the Netherlands, Blaine spent many hours of her sheltered youth reading, day dreaming, making up stories and acting them out with her Barbies. After seeing the film “An Early Frost” as a teen in the mid-eighties, an idealistic Blaine wanted to do away with the negativity surrounding homosexuality and strove to show the world how beautiful love between men could be. Our difference is our strength, is Blaine’s motto, and her stories are often set in worlds where gender fluidity and sexual diversity are accepted as is.

  When not writing or reading, Blaine has singing lessons and hopes to be in a band some day. Supporting Blaine in pursuing her dreams and all matters regarding household, kids, and cairn terrier, is her long-suffering husband for over twenty years.

  Blaine is an EPIC Award winning author and has been published by Storm Moon Press, Less Than Three Press, and Wilde City Press. Her fantasy romance “A Triad in Three Acts” was a finalist in the Rainbow Awards 2016.

  Blaine can be found at:

  http://blainedarden.com

  http://twitter.com/BlaineDArden

  http://www.facebook.com/BlaineDArden

  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5043444.Blaine_D_Arden

  email: [email protected]

  Also by Blaine D. Arden

  The Fifth Son

  Aliens, Smith and Jones

  Tales of the Forest Series

  The Forester (Forester Triad Act One - single release)

  Lost and Found (Forester Triad Act Two - single release)

  Full Circle (Forester Triad Act Three - single release)

  Oren’s Right

  Anthologies

  Satisfaction Guaranteed

  Freebies (available on Blaine’s website)

  Color Me

  The Storyteller

  Slippery When Wet

  An Invitation to Love

  The Forester

  Forester Triad Act One / A Tales of the Forest Short

  “Your Path is muddy, Kelnaht, but don’t think avoiding the puddles will make it easier to travel.”

  Kelnaht, a cloud elf, is a truth seeker caught between love and faith when a murder committed ten days before Solstice reveals an illicit affair between two tree elves he desires more than he can admit. Kelnaht’s former lover Ianys once betrayed him, and the shunned forester Taruif is not allowed to talk to anyone but the guide, their spiritual pathfinder.

  When Taruif turns out to be the only witness to the crime, Kelnaht must suppress his forbidden feelings or face the ire of the elders. Ianys is terrified the tribe will blame Taruif for the crime, and despite their painful history, Kelnaht tries to keep his impulsive ex-lover from sacrificing his freedom for an impossible love. If Taruif and Ianys’ affair becomes known, Ianys will lose his daughter.

  Kelnaht finds himself yearning to claim both Taruif and Ianys at the coming Solstice and turns to the guide, who gives him only cryptic advice. It is up to Kelnaht to prove Taruif’s innocence and find a path free of puddles and mud for all three of them.

  The Fifth Son

  A PRINCE WITHOUT POWER

  In a land where magic is commonplace, Prince Llyskel has none. He can’t command spells, he has never been taught to fight, and as the fifth son of the King, he will never rule. Everyone believes he’s a weakling, most of all himself.

  Powerlessness is Llyskel’s problem—and his pleasure. In his secret fantasies, the prince dreams of nothing more than finding himself helpless at another man’s hands… particularly the hands of Captain Ariv of the Guards.

  Then Ariv makes Llyskel’s dream a reality, and as the powerless prince surrenders to the soldier’s desire, he finds his own true strength at last. But a web of royal politics is closing around Llyskel, threatening to tear him from his lover, and it will take all his newfound courage to escape…