Wrong Man Wright Time
Timeless Love, Book 1
A woman desperate to change her past meets a man who could give her the future she always wanted.
Ryha has spent two decades married to a man who treats her as a status symbol rather than a partner. When she inexplicably wakes up on New Year's Eve 1999, she sees it as an opportunity to rebuild her relationship from the ground up. She knows exactly what went wrong before. She won't let it happen again.
Then she meets Xavier Wright, her brother's roommate. He's everything Dexter isn't: genuine, passionate, and utterly captivating. Their connection is instant and undeniable. But Ryha is already married—in her mind, if not yet in this timeline—and she refuses to repeat old mistakes by betraying the man she's sworn to fix things with.
Xavier has loved Ryha from afar for years, but he never stood a chance against her obsession with an ambitious social climber. Now, he's forced to watch her cling to a man who will never deserve her devotion.
Xavier should walk away. But every time she looks at him with longing in her eyes, every time her touch burns through him like wildfire, Xavier's resolve crumbles. He's spent his life playing it safe. He's not about to waste this second chance she's been given—or his.
She opened her mouth more, to allow for the transfer of energy between them; his light pouring into her and hers into him.
Behind them, there were the vague sounds of party chatter and the clinking of glasses. She shouldn’t be here. She needed to get back. “Xavier, I—”
But his hands were sliding up her skirt, his fingers skittering over the crotch of her panties, which were already damp. He let his finger rest against the imprint of her cleft, and then pressed down insistently.
At the same time, his other hand cupped her breast, which had already perked, her nipple poking up against the fabric. He rubbed it with his thumb, circles of torment and wanting.
She squirmed, pressed against him, opened her mouth to protest again, but he said gruffly, “You aren’t going back in there until I’ve made you mine.”
But I’m not yours, her mind answered.
Her body didn’t care.
When he flipped her around and pressed her chest against the balcony wall farthest from the sliding doors, she whimpered in anticipation. She could feel him against her butt, already hard, already making his statement of intent.
He pulled the crotch of her panties to one side, and with the other hand unzipped his fly. Then she could feel the thickness and heat of his penis between her damp thighs, throbbing with its own life and will. She heard a crinkle, and was vaguely aware of him fiddling with a condom. This was really happening!
He hitched her up so they could be level, bearing her weight without effort. She could feel the fat, bulbous tip against her opening and there was nothing she wanted more in heaven and earth right now than for him to push it all the way in.
“Last chance, Ryha,” he rasped against her neck. “Yes, or no? Stop or go?”
This was crazy. She’d gone mad. “Yes. Go!”
