Accidentally...Over? (Page 32)

Accidentally…Over? (Accidentally Yours #5)(32)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

He lifted her against the wall, and she responded helpfully by wrapping her legs around him.

“I want you, Ashli,” he whispered in her ear. “I think I wanted you even before I met you.”

She responded by placing her hands on either side of his face and kissing him with everything she had.

Mind-bending anticipation overpowered her when his hand reached under her thigh to position himself. She broke the kiss and held her breath, bracing for his penetration. She gasped with pleasure as his thick, heated tip parted her soft skin and began slowly thrusting inside. But the pleasure she’d expected did not come. Instead, it felt… well, really unpleasant—like a hot branding iron on her most intimate of places.

She yelped, and he immediately backed off, allowing her to drop her legs. She pushed him back and doubled over. “What was that?”

“Bloody hell,” Máax said, “I forgot about that.”

“Forgot about what?” she gasped.

“We are not”—he paused for several awkward moments, catching his breath—“physically compatible.”

What? He had to be messing with her. She fought the urge to pass out. She’d never felt anything more painful in her entire life, like she decided to park it on a campfire.

“Deities are not compatible with humans,” he said coldly.

Her head snapped up. No, she could not see him, but he sure the hell could see her, and she wanted him to know how peeved she felt. “You’ve got to be f**king with me.”

“I do not f**k,” he said. “Or, more appropriately stated, we shall not f**k without the assistance of black jade, a particular material that blunts my powerful energy.”

His words felt like a bucket of ice. “B-but didn’t you s-say”—she couldn’t quite speak right—“that we’re… we’re… soul mates? Ch-chosen by the universe?”

If he was so certain they were meant to be together, that it was their destiny, then why wouldn’t they be able to have sex? That felt counterintuitive, to say the least. Unless you’re being punished. Punished for everything you’ve ever done wrong. Including not saving her family.

“Where are you going, woman?” he asked.

Lie. Lie to him. “To my room. And don’t bother me. I need space.”

He did not say a word.

Twelve

Fuck, f**k, f**k. What was I thinking? Máax stood in Ashli’s kitchen bouncing his forehead against the wall. What the damnatus inferno just happened?

He’d gone into Ashli’s home, intending to have a frank, practical, mature discussion about how he planned to keep her alive, but then found himself swept away by the smell of her sweat-covered skin and by the radiant, sensual heat of her body. He’d even found himself feeling grateful for the bond, imagining that there might be hope for them. He forgot all of the pertinent facts, which might undermine any aspirations of a lasting relationship. Such as, for starters, he had no future. Ergo, they had no future.

Yet he wanted her. Truly wanted her. He’d even said she was his. And he’d godsdamned meant it!

Sonofabitch! It’s like the damned thing just snuck up and bit me on the ass. He was screwed! And hell, he didn’t even care!

He wandered into her living room and sat down, placing his face in his palms. His c**k hurt like a spurius, and his balls ached like a godsdamned charley horse. Shouldn’t deities be immune to this kind of torturous mortal bull crap?

He groaned and leaned back into the couch.

Get a hold of yourself and think with your head.

No, ass**le, the other head.

His mind reeled.

All right.

He would simply apologize for his professional indiscretion and explain how it was the bond’s fault. He would explain the unfeasibility of a future as a couple and that she’d simply need to trust him about that. In addition, they simply couldn’t afford any diversions from the task at hand. Yes, she’d understand. Ashli was mate to the God of Truth and handled truth quite well.

She is so wonderful.

Gaaarrr… Cease your incessant mooning over her!

His massive hard-on wasn’t improving matters.

Yes, but the last time he’d left her alone to, um, do his business, she’d died.

Perhaps I will simply check on her first. He walked to her room and knocked on the door. “Are you all right?”

“Go away! I need to be alone!” Ashli screamed.

“Are you certain you will not leave your room or play with anything sharp?”

“Go. Away!”

Yes. She was certain.

He sighed and wandered to the bathroom. Thankfully, Ashli had a large assortment of scented lotions that smelled like her—sweet, lavender, woman. He’d be set in a matter of minutes. He need only think of her hot, sensual body pressing against his, begging him for pleasure.

“Yep. That’ll do it.”

Two minutes later, Máax had taken the opportunity to indulge in a ten-second shower and clean up while Ashli cooled off in her bedroom. With a clear head—yes, yes, he meant that both ways; he was a completely randy bastard—he was ready to continue the conversation and get things back on track.

“Ashli, we must speak.” He knocked lightly on her bedroom door, but heard no reply.

He knocked again. Nothing.

He opened the door and found an empty room. “Oh, hell.” A feeling of dread slammed into him. If anything happened to her because he’d once again… Oh, gods… He’d never forgiv—

The faint sound of his men screaming grabbed his attention.

Sanctis infernus. He bolted through Ashli’s house, to her back door, and out to the beach.

His pulse froze for several horror-filled moments. His men dragged her lifeless body from the waves.

No. No. No. He ran to Ashli as fast as his legs could carry him, shoving the men aside when he reached her. He dropped to his knees and then pulled her into his lap, clearing away the dark, wet hair from her face. Her blue, blue face.

“No!” he wailed.

He placed her flat on her back, partially aware that his men watched as he began administering CPR. “No!” He pushed air from his lungs into hers and watched her chest rise and retreat. He gave her heart several pumps and then blew into her lungs once again. “Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.”

Why had she gone swimming? Alone! Why? Oh, gods, this was all his fault.

He placed his ear above her heart. She now wore a red one-piece, and he wondered how she’d snuck past anyone in such a brightly colored suit. He’d kill them all. Each and every man there who’d been given the task of seeing after her safety.