Accidentally...Over? Read online

  Now this “man” had shown up and made her want something, something that would make her fear dying. Dammit. Why? He’d ruined everything.

  “Ashli?” His breath tickled her neck. “Do you remember when I said you were my match? I do not think you understand what it truly means, who you truly are—”

  She thrust him away. “Stop! Just stop! Okay? I don’t want to hear another word.”

  “What is the matter?” he asked.

  “You need to leave.”

  “I cannot do that.”

  “I’m not asking,” she barked.

  “I’m not negotiating. I will not leave. Not until I know you are safely alive, fulfilling your role in the future.”

  There he went with the whole “mysterious destiny” bull crap again. “And as for me, for us”—he paused—“never mind.”

  “I am destined for one thing only: death. You’ve even admitted it.” She turned to leave but ran into a wall of hot, hard muscles. He gripped her by the shoulders.

  “I admire your stubbornness,” he said. “Truly commendable. However, I am a god. I’ve been alive for seventy thousand years, give or take a millennia, and I know when I’m right. I also know how to win. You will not die. The Universe will not take you from me.”

  His possessive words struck her down like a bolt of lightning. She couldn’t resist wanting this—whatever “this” was. She wanted to belong to him, a real live god.

  He gripped her chin and tilted her head up. She knew he was looking into her eyes. She could feel it.

  “Haven’t you ever heard of fate, woman? There is nothing stronger. It is an anchor in the ocean of time. Unmovable. And you are mine.”

  His mouth was on her, hot, demanding, filled with a potent concoction of conviction, arrogance, and need. It didn’t matter what her mind told her; her body, heart, and soul jumped into the tiny life raft he’d just offered her.

  Her muscles simultaneously relaxed and constricted with his touch, and she opened her mouth to the heat of his tongue and lips. Her hands moved from his smooth, chiseled chest, up his shoulders, seeking that mane of silky, long hair she knew she would find. Her fingers channeled through the soft, thick strands and pulled him toward her. Eyes closed, she saw every detail of this gorgeous man in her mind. Her collage. He was perfect. Waves of caramel-brown hair with red-and-gold highlights that shimmered in the sun. Skin the color of deep amber honey, and eyes like a tropical ocean, a shimmering turquoise, surrounded by a thick fringe of dark brown lashes. And his lips. Full, delicious, succulent.

  With her body, she backed him against the wall, savoring his hard frame against her soft curves. She felt like she’d lose her mind if she didn’t do something with this pent-up lust. He turned her into an animal.

  “You’re really not wearing any clothes?” she panted in between heated, wet, desperate kisses.

  Instead of answering with words, he took her hand, the one palming his delicious pectoral, and slid it down. She kept her eyes tightly shut, not wanting what they couldn’t see to get in the way.

  Ripped abs, a delicate dip in his hard stomach where she found his belly button, and then a light dusting of hair, slightly course. Was he really going to place her hand where she thought? And hoped?

  Never breaking their wild, hungry kisses, her fingers grazed a thicker patch of curls and then… Holy, sacred shlong-a-saurus. She sucked in a sharp breath the moment her fingertips made contact. Hard, velvety, thick.

  Máax released a grating groan, the kind that scraped and clawed at a woman’s core. That core which now quivered when she realized her hand only made it partially around his manly girth. Her fingers followed the long, hard line of his wickedly large penis, and she wondered when she would reach the tip.

  He groaned again, this time so gravelly that she almost orgasmed. How is that even possible? It was as if the sound of his voice delved deep inside and enveloped her throbbing, pulsing flesh, rhythmically pushing against her.

  This has to be bad. She had absolutely no control over herself when around him. But feels so good.

  She leaned into him, their lips becoming more demanding and greedy of each other as she pressed him against her stomach. She’d never wanted to do this with a man, but she found herself needing to pleasure him, to hear him call out her name.

  She cupped his erection against her abdomen, using her hand to massage him, while their tongues mimicked the rhythm of their bodies working toward the same delicious goal: to make him come. Yes. That’s what she wanted. To make him lose his immortal mind. She wanted to drive him crazy with lust. It felt like a primal instinct.

  His hands reached for the hem of her dress, and he swiftly pulled the white flowy fabric up over her head, leaving her in just her pale pink bra and panties.

  He unhooked the clasp in the front of her bra and stripped it away. She immediately felt his hungry gaze on her breasts, right down the tips of her hardened nipples, as if he touched her with his mind. How did he do that?

  “Mmmm,” was all he said, but it managed to push her that final inch, well past any point of control.

  Ohmygod. Change plans. She wanted him inside her. She wanted him to take her right there in the kitchen and pound her senseless against the wall. She wanted to feel his insanely thick, hard cock push inside her body. She wanted him to use her for his pleasure. She just wanted him. All of him. All to herself. I’m so in trouble.

  As if reading her thoughts, he spun them both and placed her back to the wall. He gripped her panties and then broke the kiss. She felt him look her over again, perhaps savoring the task of stripping away the last barrier between them.

  “You are so… beautiful, Ashli. The most beautiful woman, I’ve ever seen. Every inch is”—he sucked in a breath—“perfection.”

  Her breasts were too big for her frame and her hips were too narrow. She’d always hated that about her body, but for a fraction of a second, she saw herself through his eyes. She did feel perfect, like a goddess. A sexy, smart, beautiful goddess.

  She smiled but resisted opening her eyes. She knew the image of him in her mind would not be mirrored by her eyes. Her eyes would see nothing. Oh, but he was there. She felt every pulsing ripple, every hard inch. Oh yes, the man was there.

  He slowly slid her panties to her ankles, and she kicked them away, leaving her completely bare. She wanted to say something, to tell him how badly she needed him to take her hard with that enormous shaft, but he didn’t give her a chance. His mouth returned to her, smothering her moans and groans.

  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 fucking with me.”

  “I do not fuck,” he said. “Or, more appropriately stated, we shall not fuck 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, fuck, fuck. 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 cock 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, asshole, 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.

  “Sir?” Brutus, who’d been at the café earlier and the leader of this particular Uchben crew, grabbed Máax’s shoulder. “She’s gone.”

  Máax dropped his head. He knew Brutus spoke the truth, and in that moment, Máax felt something snap. Fucking snap. The molecules of his light reverberated from the force. It was as if every inch of his being rejected the Universe. He felt repulsed by it, angered by it, embittered by it. This was not a world he wanted to serve or be a part of if Ashli were not a part of it, too. The pain was simply too much.

  And just like that, the bonds of the Universe, everything shackling him to an eternity of servitude vanished. Only his connection to Ashli remained. Oh yes. Now he saw everything with such vivid clarity. Ashli had become just as much a part of him as his own heart. No longer was there a separation between their souls. But then…

  “She can’t be dead. Not again.” Yes, Máax could go back in time again and start over, but what difference would it make? He couldn’t protect her! He’d failed.

  “I-I will keep trying,” Brutus said remorsefully.

  Máax slowly stood, feeling the weight of his sorrow dragging his transparent bones down to hell. He staggered toward her house, holding back a scream so full of despair that it would be felt around the world.

  Why couldn’t he save her? Why couldn’t he keep her alive? It didn’t matter what he did, did it? The Universe—Death—was determined to have its way. But why? What had he done to deserve this torment? What had she done?

  He realized that he would do anything to keep from losing her, to keep her from dying, to keep her safe.

  Anything?

  Yes, fucking anything.

  The unexpected sound of hacking stopped him in his tracks.

  He didn’t dare breathe or make a single sound, fearing he’d miss the repetition of what he thought he’d heard. He clenched his lids tightly and tilted his head toward the sky. Please, please, please, let that be what I think it is.

  He turned, feeling the world move in slow motion, counting to three before he opened his eyes.

  Máax dropped to his knees at the sight of Ashli coughing violently.

  The air whooshed from his lungs, and he dropped his head into his hands. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

  After stripping Ashli of her wet bathing suit and fighting every urge in his male body to touch her, Máax tucked Ashli into her bed and quietly left the room. He’d never felt so full of hope, so in control of his destiny, and so uneasy. Ashli’s death had somehow severed his bonds with the Universe, thereby allowing his soul to completely bond with hers. Now he didn’t know where he began and where she ended. They were one.

  But what did it all mean? And what next? Practically speaking, the situation was not resolved. Ashli was still at risk, which meant the clock continued to tick.

  But she is alive.


  He smiled to himself and walked to the kitchen. When she awoke, he’d have everything ready for her. Soup, fresh-squeezed juice, flowers, a platinum Visa. He’d indulge her every whim with the exception of solid food, especially bananas. Or a game of tag with a bus. Or a swim in the ocean. Or a beehive. Other than those, however, he’d spoil her rotten, and he’d figure this out. All of it. What mattered was that she lived.

  Máax entered the kitchen to find Brutus sitting at Ashli’s small table, sipping a cup of tea. Máax was about to speak and thank Brutus for what he’d done, but didn’t get the chance.

  Brutus spoke, his eyes fixed on his mug. “This is bigger than you and I. You know that, don’t you?”

  “If you’re speaking of saving Ashli, of course I know that; she’s everything.”

  “Good. I’m glad you see that. Because you can’t have her,” Brutus said coldly, not bothering to look up from his cup.

  Máax halted in his tracks. “What?”

  Brutus’s eyes zeroed right in on Máax. “You heard me. You can’t have her. She is far too good for you and far too important to the rest of us.”

  “Not sure I follow.”

  Brutus stood from the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Like most Uchben soldiers, Brutus wore the standard black tee, cargo pants, and boots. His dark hair was short in a military crew cut but Máax knew Brutus’s clean-cut exterior was nothing but an illusion. On the inside, the man was like all Uchben—human volcanoes, waiting to erupt and let loose an explosion of deadly force. A razor-thin membrane of control was all that separated men like Brutus from killing, destroying, serving justice. Controlled chaos.

  That didn’t mean that Máax was afraid or gave a shit what the man said. Ashli was his and no one would ever challenge that.

  But is she really yours? Are you now saying you will keep her?

  I don’t fucking know. The only thing he knew in this moment was that he was grateful as hell she was still alive and that her death had drastically changed something deep within him. He simply needed a little time to figure things out.