Author's Notes: It was pointed out to me that this is apparently my 25th Timeless Fic!? Goodness gracious me! I both feel like I've done WAY more (Oh, wait, that's the 35 unposted ones still in the Timeless folder on my comp... whoops...) but also I'm like... What the heck 25 have I already posted!? Hahaha. I have a few friends who I swear know my own works better than I do. Hopefully this one will stick clearly in my, and your, memories :p
Wyatt found the bathroom easily, striding past it with nothing more than a nonchalant look before casually checking his watch. Only two minutes had passed. Damn. He turned the first corner he came across and took out his phone as if he'd received a message. Leaning against the wall, he checked his emails. And his texts. And the grocery list he and Lucy shared through an app. Not that she'd be needing to grab anything soon cause she was on the damn base with him. In Texas. When he realized he was tapping his foot against the wall in an almost frenzied rhythm, he gave up.
4 minutes and 27 seconds after she'd told him to wait five minutes, he was quietly slipping into the women's locker room.
"I'm surprised it took you this long."
His head shot towards the sinks and there was his wife. All skirt and heels and glasses, the jacket gone, discarded who knew where, lounging against the counter's edge with the deepest smirk he'd ever seen.
God was she sexy.
"What the fuck," he hissed storming forward.
But she didn't let him get a word in. She pushed off the counter and met him halfway, slim fingers reaching to grab his hair and pull his head to hers. His tirade was cut short by the force of their mouths meeting and again the taste of her, after days apart, instantly wiped his brain clean. For several, delicious moments the only thing that mattered in the world was his wife, who he'd missed so badly, and who was so beautiful, and who kissed so well and felt so good and was so smart and funny and sneaky and…
Wait. No! He couldn't let her win!
Wyatt clumsily nudged her away, his traitorous mouth still trailing after hers as he did so.
"No!" His voice was far gravellier than he'd like.
"No?" she mocked, pulling him back in.
It was several moments of floundering before he was able to wrangle himself away from her again. She was addictive.
"You need to explain yourself!" he growled.
"Is that an order?" she winked.
God, how was her vicious sassiness so hot?
He tried to sound stern. "If you need it to be!"
She reached out and he leaned his head back but she went for his collar instead, straightening it. "You know what I need."
"So much that you flew to Texas and infiltrated my military training camp?"
She shrugged coyly.
For a minute Wyatt's brain shorted out at the thought that Lucy Preston, who was so many million miles above his league, went through what must have been a considerable amount of work to set up this surprise for him.
Was there anything the woman couldn't do?
He had so many questions, but as was his way, the set of words that came blurting out were far more curtly blunt than he intended.
"Why aren't you wearing your ring?"
She pulled back at his tone, a flicker of worry skirting across her brash confidence. It only lasted a second.
"All part of the plan, dear," she soothed. "They couldn't know I was taken."
He was confused, and angry, and intoxicated by the scent of her so while he figured out how to respond to her statement, he kissed her. Lucy hummed into it, pliant against him. She let him run his hands down her legs to the hem of her tight skirt, slipping underneath and up to cup her ass, let him knead, let him gather her up and hoist her up into his arms. He carried her to the nearest wall and slammed her back against it before finally responding.
"The hell kind of plan involves a bunch of horndog soldiers thinking you're up for grabs?" He punctuated his words with a squeeze of the flesh he was still personally grabbing. Her eyes closed as her head lolled back and sideways against the wall. He dove down to kiss her neck, suck on her pulse point,
"The plan that involves this," she grinned breathlessly.
He ground his hips forward into hers, grinding her body hard into the unforgiving concrete behind.
"This," she gasped, still grinning as her eyes popped open to look him directly in the eye. "You. Jealous."
He coughed and sputtered, tripping over his first attempt at words as she wound her legs tight around his body and rocked into him. "Not… not jealous," he argued.
She laughed. The vibration of it sizzled through her body and right into his.
"Okay, soldier boy. Whatever you say."
He growled and bit down at her clavicle. She moaned and rolled against him. He pinned her against the wall with his hips, letting go of her completely, forcing her to support herself with the strength of her legs as his hands moved to paw at the buttons of her blouse.
"So help me if you break any," she warned.
He growled again, wanting nothing more than to rip the shirt apart and send the little discs flying. But then his wife, his wife who was Lucy Preston, would have to walk around an army base less than fully dressed.
There was no chance in hell.
With focus so hard his teeth were grinding he painstakingly undid every button of the crisp white shirt. She was smirking at him the whole time.
The first time he got her properly alone after this…
As soon as he could part the shirt his hands were on her breasts, calloused fingers luxuriating against soft silk. When her eyes closed again and her chest pushed out into his touch he pulled a cup aside, diving down to take her into his mouth. He lavished attention on both breasts, peaked and tight for him, before he slapped a hand against he wall to brace himself as the other moved to slide up a thigh.
Lucy's eyes popped open. "Wait!"
"What?" his lust soaked brain could think of no reason to do such an absurd thing.
"Someone could come in," she breathed out in a rush.
His whole spine lit up like fireworks had burst at the thought. What a sight they would make.
She must have sensed he was distracted and latched onto his mouth with hers to bring him back. "Shower stall," she urged between sucking his tongue.
Broad arms wrapped around her, holding her secure even as his feet stumbled in haste to the closest nook. He stumbled over the short lip that framed the stall that kept the water from running onto the floor, pitching forward and smashing her against the back tiles. Their bodies collided hard and she let out a harsh sound.
"Oh god, sorry!" he pulled back with a wince, mortified at his lack of control. But could you blame him? It was Lucy! He leaned back to assess her condition. Her eyes were closed, face screwed up as her head hung back against the tiles. A hand gripped at his shoulder while the other was wrapped around the back of his neck like a vice. Her hips were flush with his, so tight he couldn't tell where they joined, and…
He could feel her heat. All the way through his camo. His eyes shuttered closed at the realization and suddenly he could smell her too. Primal and sweet and Lucy and ready. When he opened his eyes to pin her with his gaze he was sure his eyes were as black as hers. His right hand drove up inside her skirt and he discovered he'd missed something in his haste to feel up her ass earlier.
"Lucy," he choked.
The smirk was back. Dirtier and darker than ever. "Hmm?"
"The whole time."
Words failed him.
"It's what you wanted, right?" she drawled. "What you were so disappointed about when you crashed my lecture meeting?"
She took hold of his wrist and pressed his hand between her legs. To the silky, wet skin that was completely bare, no hint of barrier in sight. "Like we talked about that time you came home early from your first business trip to surprise me."
His fingers slipped against her, whether by his own command or hers he'd never know. They both groaned.
"You talked about a meeting," he remembered haltingly. "Sitting beside me. I put my hand on your knee, up the skirt that's ridden up. I trail up and realize…"
"Mmmhmm," she confirmed with approval. "I knew you'd remember."
"But Lucy," he looked at her aghast even as his fingers started a rhythm all their own. "On base? With… with all the… the…"
"The what?" she asked breathlessly as her hips tilted into his touch. "The soldiers?"
"In case you hadn't noticed," she smirked. "I married a soldier."
Him. She'd married him. Jesus he was so beyond lucky he didn't even know how to say. But… she wasn't wearing the ring to prove it.
"Not that anyone would know that," he snarked, slipping a finger inside of her without warning. Her body stiffened, both in pleasure and at his words.
"But I do," she countered. "So remind me why I did."
Her look was nothing but dare and challenge.
And Master Sergeant Wyatt Logan did not back down from a challenge. Lucy's skirt was up around her waist in seconds, his belt flung to the ground and pants pooled round his feet as he finally, blissfully, rammed home. She reached out blindly with scrabbling fingers to pull the flimsy curtain across to afford them some privacy. Though anyone entering the room would know what was going on from the noises alone. She got it about halfway closed before a particularly hard thrust had her clawing against the walls for support instead. He was finally letting go of all the shock, elation, frustration, anger, lust. And she was taking it all and giving back just as good as she got. She hadn't planned the whole affair for a nice, easy shag. She was there to show him he couldn't just waltz into her meeting with no consequences. She was there to show him how much she missed him when he was gone. She was there to get fucked.
And, as always, her man was more than capable of giving her everything she wanted,
Guttural moans echoed through the locker room as their bodies lewdly slapped together. She growled into his ears, goading him, daring him to go faster, harder.
"Remind me," she moaned. "Show me."
He let out a hopeless noise as he lost himself in her. His desperate hope for fulfillment warred with his need to please her above anything else. His usual skill at tactical assessment, weighing the pros and cons of various strategies was lost in the heat of the battle. He was flying blind, rolling with whatever was thrown his way. Like the brush of her breasts against his chest. The scent of her hair as he sucked in a stuttered breath. The jagged digging of her heels into his lower back. The straight dirty noises that reverberated through his skull.
Every soldier had a breaking point.
Wyatt finally found his.
With a heroic final effort, he slipped a hand between their grinding bodies and found her trigger. It only took one hard pull to set her off and she was flying, body arching, shooting high into the sky like a rocket. Seconds later he let himself explode, the pair of them ensuring each others mutual, glorious destruction. He felt like a bomb had gone off inside of him, the aftershocks coursing through his limbs and turning them to dust. His knees gave out and he listed into her, her back sliding down along the tiles, supporting one another until they hit the ground. Lucy curled her arms and legs around him, essentially sitting in his lap as his head dropped forward onto her shoulder. He nearly melted as a hand rose into his hair and started soothing him.
"Excellent performance, soldier," she whispered in his ear. "Top marks on your field report."
He huffed a laugh into her neck and she squirmed, giggling "Tickles…"
Wyatt was too tired to take advantage of such an admission. He just laughed again and laid a soft kiss against her neck. She sighed. Then tightened her arms around him.
"We need to get up."
His lips left her skin on a groan.
"Wyatt," she warned.
"I know," he groused.
"You guys are supposed to be masters of the quick turnaround, after all."
He could hear the smirk in her voice. "Hey… you know what kind of turnaround I can-"
"You know what I mean."
He grumbled unintelligibly into her shoulder. She smacked him on the ass.
"Worse than any drill sergeant..." he muttered as he pulled away from her. She grinned, the cat who got the cream, as he wrangled himself into a kneeling position before gently taking her hands and hauling them both upright. For a moment he gave into sentiment and leaned into her, their foreheads touching.
"Later," she promised. Then tilted forward to capture his lips in a deep, sweet, delicious kiss. He was nearly ready to demonstrated his quick turnaround again when she pulled away.
"You go first," she instructed.
He nodded, long trained to follow her orders, however reluctant. He forced his mind to shut down and let his long-honed training take over. He was dressed and ready for public presentation in mere seconds.
"Impressive," Lucy praised as she straightened her own blouse. She was the first to step out of the stall, walking, Wyatt noted with pride, a little less steady than how they'd began. He watched as she assessed herself in the mirror, grimacing as she twisted around and saw she had scuff marks on the back of her white blouse. He began to apologize but she cut him off, catching his gaze in the mirror.
"You don't think I knew this would happen?" she raised a brow. "Why do you think I wore a blazer?"
With seemingly effortless grace she swiped up said blazer and put it on. A few shoulder rolls later and it was perfectly placed, no stitch out of place. Her hair however…
With awe, Wyatt watched as she quickly tucked away all the errant strands that had been unleashed, a few swipes of her slim hands and the raven locks were squared away. How did she?
"A magician never reveals her secrets," she shrugged coyly, seeing right through his look.
He put his hands up in defeat, knowing he'd be spending the rest of his life marvelling at her secrets, and revelling in learning more, yet never all.
"Well then," he shook himself out of his reverie. "You clearly have all this planned to a tee. What now?"
"Now," she approached him and brought her arms up around his shoulders to hook behind his neck. He loosely draped his hands on her hips. "I'm going to kiss you. But not for long as I want to."
She kissed him. It wasn't for as long as he wanted either.
"And now," she drew out, swiping a thumb across his bottom lip. "You're going to go out there and continue with your training as if nothing has happened."
He squeezed her hips. "And you?"
"I've fulfilled my duties. I'm going back to my hotel room to relax, and dream of being back home, with my husband."
"Husband?" he cheekily raised an eyebrow. "I don't see any ring."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
He chuckled, "Okay, okay."
"When we're home, you can show me off all you want," she promised.
His hands squeezed again as he brightened. "Really?"
"And by reason you mean…"
"Okay, okay. I've got it."
"You've got what?"
"I've got it, Ma'am."
She smirked and patted his cheek. "Good boy."
She let loose a laugh, her eyes shining. He grinned back. Before either could get morose, he extricated himself from her hold. With a final mock salute, he executed a crisp about face and strode to the door. He cracked it open and finding an empty hallway, risked a final glance back at his wife. All this, for his sorry ass… wow. He slipped out of the locker.
And immediately regretted the last glance.
Somehow, in the split second he'd gazed at the glory that was Lucy Preston, a group of people had rounded the corner into the hall. The last group of people he'd wanted to see. The Corner Gang. The gaggle of jackasses who'd been disrespecting his glorious wife all day. He briefly hoped they hadn't seen him emerge from a doorway he definitely wasn't supposed to be emerging from. But of course he couldn't have such luck.
"Woah there Delta Force," one man crowed. "What's goin' on here?"
"You take a wrong turn or is there something you need to tell us, Delta Force?" another one guffawed.
"Look, guys, I just-"
"No need to explain," the third one grinned widely. He reached forward and plucked a long, dark hair from Wyatt's shoulder. The group laughed in unison, roughly smacking him on the shoulder.
"Congratulations," the leader drawled. "Didn't think you had it in you!'
"Got a thing for punishment, huh?" a crony asked. "You like being dressed down like that?"
"So what happened?" the head man inquired. "Did you bang her right there in the classroom? Or did she drag you by your lapels down to here?"
"It's not-" Wyatt protested, hackles raised.
"Oh we won't tell," he grinned ferally. "As I said, didn't think you had it in you. But we all know how lonely it can get, right boys?"
The men all nodded, sagely and with understanding. "Can't let a little thing like a ring get in the way."
Wyatt's blood boiled at the insinuation. "Hey," he barked. "Back off. You have no idea what you…"
Lucy pressed herself against the door, ear to the wall as she started to see red. How dare they imply that Wyatt would do such a thing! He would never cheat. Ever. He was the most noble, loyal, good to the core man she'd ever known. However troubled and conflicted he could get, he always made what he thought was the right choice. These men didn't know him. Didn't know what he'd been through. How dare they think they could judge him!
The point of the little battle they'd gotten themselves into was fun. Thrill. Adventure. They both had fulfilling and time consuming jobs, but had both admitted to missing… something. It was a shock to both when they realized they missed going on missions. They'd been risking their lives on the daily and dealing with drama and heartbreak the likes of which most people could never imagine, but yet, for the incredible lows, there were also incredible highs. There was a thrill to it, an adrenaline of being on the run, scheming, strategizing, the fear of getting caught. Though they hadn't purposely started these surprise escapades to fill that void, it's what they had become. A way to achieve some of that excitement, the challenge, without any of the mortal danger. And always ending in fantastic sex. There was not supposed to be any resulting drama, and there certainly wasn't supposed to be any judgement or negative consequences. There was no way she was going to let a bunch of jag-off assholes ruin this for them.
With a determined glower she knelt down and opened her briefcase. It was time to finally show these assholes their place.
Wyatt was about to punch the leader right in the face and possibly ruin his career. His hand was curled into a tight fist, body braced for a sudden unleashing. But just as he was taking his last preparatory inhale, the door he'd just escaped out of swung open.
"Oh, hey boys!" Lucy chirped. "What are you doing lurking around the women's change room?" She gave them a sad, disappointed frown the likes of which could make a college student wilt to the ground. "Isn't that, what do you call it? Conduct unbecoming?"
Before they could even get a word in she swung round to Wyatt. Her mouth curled up like the cat who got the cream and there was a dangerous glint to her eyes. "However you, solider," she barked sharply. Wyatt snapped to attention on instinct, not realizing he'd even done so. He was glad for the unconscious discipline of his body though, because the next thing he knew she was holding up her wedding ring for all the men to see and slipping it back onto her finger where it belonged.
Her voice turned deeper, smooth. Pure seduction. "Thanks for finding my ring."
Then she grabbed him by the lapels and hauled him towards her, claiming his mouth with a ferocity he'd rarely experienced. He had no choice but to grab on as she threw her arms around him. The base could have been beamed into space around them and he wouldn't have noticed. When she finally let go of him he could do nothing but stare at her as she licked her lips and grinned.
"I have another full day of seminars tomorrow so I probably won't be able to see you again," she informed him as she straightened his collar. "But I'll see you in a few days at home." Leaning in she whispered, loud enough for all to hear, "I'll be waiting."
Then she turned on her heels and sauntered away, hips swaying.
The hall was silent until she turned a corner and disappeared. You could have heard a pin drop. Then Wyatt heard a slow breath being let out and a quiet "Oh shit…"
Wyatt tried and failed to keep the smirk off his face when he turned around to look at the three men, for once stunned mute. Finally the leader spoke again.
Wyatt just smirked harder and casually shrugged a shoulder.
"You, Logan? Got THAT?"
"Got her," he corrected. "Who has a name. Lucy Logan."
"Thought it was Preston?" one argued.
"It was easier to keep it as her professional name, seeing as she'd already published numerous acclaimed books as Preston before I even met her. And now she's on track for tenure. Should be getting it real soon.
The guys were looking at him like he was a whole new person. One looked down the hall as if hoping Lucy would suddenly reappear so he could reassess her too.
"Her assistant is already fielding request calls from universities wanting her to guest lecture. I'm sure you've heard of Yale, Harvard, you know, places like that. I heard there's even a few from Europe." Wyatt couldn't resist adding. Then he clapped the boss on the shoulder, a bit rougher than was necessary. "Love to stay and chat, fellas, but I must be off. The quicker this course is finished, the quicker I can get home to my Wife. She'll be waiting for me, after all."
And with that he turned on the heels of his shiny boots and strode down the hall the opposite way that Lucy had.
The men stayed stuck in the middle, exchanging dumbfounded looks.
A few days later, Wyatt hurriedly locked the door behind him, dropping his bags and jacket right in the front entryway. Tearing off his shoes he beelined straight to the bedroom.
Lucy was waiting.
Well then! There we have it! Hope you all enjoyed my little Lyatt Week fun.
Now... What could Wyatt possibly do to top THIS one... Any suggestions?