Maximum Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 3 (15 page)

She mulled it over. “I like Jameson a lot better. Anastasios sounds too much like one of the bad guys from a James Bond flick. I’m picturing him with an eyepatch and a false gold tooth that’s really a wireless communicator that sends top-secret transmissions to his lair in the Swiss Alps.”

Max gaped at her before plowing his fingers through his hair and grunting. “Great, now I can’t remember what I was going to say.”

She offered him an innocent smile, and he growled. Ignoring his surliness, she removed the rest of her clothes and set her glasses on the nightstand for safekeeping. “Why don’t you stop your fretting for now and come to bed?”

“Men don’t fret, goddamn it.”

“Please. You’re worse than Aurele.”

Glowering, he stripped down to his skivvies and climbed beneath the sheets with her. They faced each other, and she automatically cuddled into his heat, resting her head in the crook of his arm. “I didn’t say it before, but I want you to know I appreciate you being here for me. I’m just sorry you’ve been dragged into all of this craziness.”

He smoothed her hair away from her forehead. She nuzzled into his touch, grateful to have this intimacy back. The awkward barrier she’d sensed earlier still hovered in the distance, but damn if she’d let it sneak too close.

She snuggled into Max, breathing him deep, his ocean musk more potent than an aphrodisiac. She remembered his claim about their energies being drawn to each other. Did that explain this wild craving he brought out in her? Maybe a little. But the chaotic emotion filling the chambers of her heart wasn’t lust. She traced the contours of his bristly jaw before coaxing his head nearer. Their lips met, and she poured every ounce of her love into the kiss.

A tremor ran through Max, and she felt his resistance as he struggled against whatever force had erected that invisible barrier. She reached for his thickening erection and stroked him through the cotton of his briefs, capturing his frustrated groan within her mouth. Her tongue slicked along his, an unspoken plea to return her love. End her loneliness.

His hands bracketed her face, and he kissed her with the intensity of a man consumed by the fires of passion. Or the demons of repressed desire. She twisted the waistband of his briefs, impatiently tugging it past his hips and the firm globes of his ass. The garment caught around his knees, and she used her foot to free it the rest of the way from his legs. He rolled her onto her back, the hardness of his cock nudging her slit. She arched into him, but he hesitated. Undulating beneath him, she whimpered, desperate to be filled. Taken.

“Willa, I don’t deserve what you’re offering.” The possessiveness in his eyes undermined his words.

“This is a really crappy time to become a gentleman.” She trailed her nails over his tensed glutes, and his pupils dilated in reaction. If he thought there was any chance in hell he wouldn’t be buried inside her within the next five seconds, he was about to be proven wrong. “Up until now, you’ve had no problem sweet talking me into sex.”

“That was before…”

“Before what?”

His fingers glided over her bottom lip. “I knew who you were.”

This was about
that
? “You cannot be serious.”

“Willa, when I took my oath as sheriff, I swore to protect and serve you. Not fuck you.”

“Wow, was that actually written in the speech?”

“Damn it, stop being glib.” He pressed his forehead against hers and blew out a weary breath, his exhale feathering her lips. “I could be court-martialed for this.”

“Then I guess we better make it worth it.” Before he could balk further, she angled her hips, the position thrusting the head of his shaft inside her a fraction. Max stiffened—in more ways than one—and groaned. She wrapped her legs around him, forcing him to sink deeper. His delicious thickness stretched her, filling her even as her heart overflowed with emotion. “Max…” His name trembled on her lips.

His mouth sought hers, absorbing her cry as his thumb caressed her clitoris, igniting the bundle of nerves. He pumped in and out of her in a slow, leisurely manner that soon had her nails digging into his flanks. Her vision hazed, her breaths growing choppy. Intense pleasure glimmered on the horizon, like a wave preparing to crash.

“Do it, baby. Come on my cock. Now.”

The climax ripped through her, bowing her body into a tight arch. At least Max had the foresight to slam his mouth over hers, corking her shout. No matter how limited Aurele’s hearing might be, no way would she have missed that if it’d slipped free. Max kept moving, the power of his thrusts increasing until his body was a slippery canvas of sweat. He suddenly reached for her legs, unhooking them from his waist and lifting her thighs high, anchoring them with his forearms as his cock bottomed out with one blinding plunge. She gasped.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Each word fell from Max on staggered breaths. Speech impossible, she shook her head. He pumped into her in a series of short, tunneling strokes. “Wanna be…deep inside you…when I—” His rhythm faltering, Max gave a final thrust, the cords in his neck straining as his body shuddered.

Max in the throes of orgasm was a thing of beauty. Just watching him was enough to trip her over the edge again, and she joined him on the tail end of his climax. Afterwards he held her close, and she listened to their heartbeats thudding in unison. Even as the first of his snores floated free, she decided to let him off the hook. Yeah, he definitely had a habit of falling asleep on her immediately following sex. But damn, was it ever worth it.

With moonlight filtering through the trees, Harrison waited for the six other leviathans to abandon their scattered posts in the woods ringing Bon Revere. It hadn’t been easy gaining the compliance of the levis. In fact, it’d taken close to three hours of intense bribing and cajoling to get the assholes to see things his way. In the end, the promise of meaningless titles that they could lord over the other leviathans had secured their talents. Only now Harrison’s schedule was severely set back. But if all went according to plan, he’d soon be one step closer to making all of his dreams a reality. It was that knowledge that sparked a strong dose of self-satisfaction in Harrison’s chest as he skulked from his own hiding spot.

He arrived at the front entrance of the antebellum mansion as two of the levis snapped the necks of the pufferfish guards, permanently ending their pathetic, useless lives. After a quick rifle through the key ring of the nearest dead guard, he located the key that fit the front door. His six henchmen flanking him, he made his way inside the darkened house.

Harrison’s disdain escalated while he scanned the silhouetted forms of various, dozing guards. This would be easy. Shit, he could have killed all these silly idiots on his own and not bothered with recruiting a team.

Oh well. His six comrades were a decent start on the army he and Reva would require. Motioning for his fellow leviathans to begin eliminating the remaining guards, Harrison approached the two walrus shifters snoozing outside the basement door. He stretched his forearms, allowing his tentacles to take shape, and quickly stabbed through the unconscious guards’ chests. The energy required to manifest his tentacles drained him slightly, making him woozy, but the thrill of utilizing his true form made up for the unpleasant side effects. Curling his tentacles around their hearts, he basked in the final pump of blood through the constricting chambers before they beat no more. He shoved the dead shifters aside and gave his bloodied tentacles a disgusted glance. How unpleasant, being soiled by the lowly creatures.

Wiping himself clean on the guards’ uniforms, he once again adopted the form of human arms. Much as he despised their ugly gangliness, they did provide better dexterity for opening doors and such. At least while he was on land. In truth, being locked into this despised human suit weakened him significantly. His venomous bite and the ability of his species to mutate their tentacles into talons while out of the water were the few things that kept him from being dangerously open to attack. As with all leviathans, his strength resided in his natural form and his preferred domain—the sea. If not for the importance of this mission, he would spend as little time on terra firma as possible.

He grasped the knob and let himself past the door. He made it halfway down the steps before the last two guards at the bottom roused from their slumber. They had little time to do anything more than rub the grogginess from their eyes before Harrison sprang on top of them, crushing their skulls into the adjacent wall as he’d wished to do the other night. He tossed their limp bodies aside and wrenched the metal bar from its housing.

The padded door swung inward with a rusty whine, revealing Reva Bellemuir standing on the other side, impatiently tapping her foot. “Took you long enough.”

Chapter Fourteen

Willa rolled over in bed, automatically reaching for Max. Instead of his nice warm body, she ended up hugging his pillow instead. Frowning, she lifted onto her elbow. The rich aroma of chicory made her nose twitch. Okay, either Max had snuck off to use the bathroom, or he was out in the kitchen, enjoying Aurele’s world-class coffee.

She threw the covers off and hurried to the closet, where she found one of Aurele’s old fuzzy robes. She slipped on the garment and belted it while she padded into the hallway. A peek inside the guest bath confirmed no Max, although the water beading on the shower stall confirmed that he’d been in there recently.

Aurele glanced up from her mug as Willa entered the kitchen. “Morning.”

Crossing to Aurele, she kissed her on the cheek. Aurele sniffled. “Does this mean you forgive me for lying to you about everything?”

“You did it to protect me. It’d be pretty damn petty to hold it against you.” She walked to the cupboard and fetched her favorite coffee cup, the one with the caption
I don’t do mornings
suspended over a purple alligator. “Have you seen Max? I thought he’d be out here with you.”

“He left a few minutes ago.”

Willa’s eyebrows slashed low at Aurele’s calm pronouncement. “Where did he go?”

“He decided a visit to the Duke of Atlanta would be more productive and persuasive than a phone call.”

“Oh really.” She filled her cup, splashing a small amount of coffee onto the counter. Grumbling, she grabbed a dishtowel and wiped up the mess. “How convenient that he came to that epiphany while I was still sleeping.” Another thought occurred to her and she banged her fist on the Formica. “Damn it, he took my car, didn’t he? Now I’m really ticked.”

“Dear, it wouldn’t have been a good idea for you to go with him.”

“Why? It’s not like the duke would even know who I was.”

“No, but he might become curious. Particularly considering the reason for Max’s visit.”

Begrudgingly admitting that Aurele had a point, Willa sat in the opposite seat and sipped her coffee. Inhaling the fragrant steam, she eyed the other woman. “Max told me that my mother forfeited her crown when she married my father. Did…did she ever regret making that choice?” She’d spent a better part of the night with the ghost of Max’s conversation tormenting her brain, making her wonder about the sacrifices her mother had made. Estelle Jameson had seemed blissfully happy. But then again, maybe what she was remembering was merely an implant. Maybe the truth would remain forever submerged within the murky recesses of her subconscious, never to surface. She swallowed, her doubts more bitter than the coffee scalding her tongue.

Aurele reached across the table and clasped Willa’s hand. “Your mother loved your father, just as she loved you. She never would have traded either of you. Not even for the throne.”

“Max seems to think I should reclaim the legacy she lost. That is, if Reva is ever brought to trial. Since that appears highly unlikely, it’s pretty much a moot point.”

Aurele leaned back in her chair, her gaze assessing. “It
is
your birthright.”

She grimaced. “Now you sound like Max.”

“Well, he does appear to be a very intelligent young man.”

“Jeez, that was a backhanded compliment if ever I heard one.”

Aurele chuckled. “Scoff all you want, but I confess I’m greatly relieved knowing you have him for a protector. The knowledge will help me sleep easier at night.”

Taking another sip of coffee, she silently agreed with Aurele’s assessment. Having Max look out for her did make her feel infinitely safer. In theory at least. Because when it came to her heart, Max was the biggest danger of all.

Max climbed from Willa’s car and visually swept the exterior of the ducal residence, taking in the enormous dolphin-shaped boxwood topiaries flanking the entrance. To the uninformed observer, the plant statuary would be taken as a whimsical touch. In reality, they were a nod to Justin Bellemuir’s mammalian side of the family, which came courtesy of his mother, Nadia. Max couldn’t help wondering what Reva thought about having the precious waters of her gene pool muddied by dolphin DNA. Hopefully it put a real twist in the bitch’s panties. Clenching his jaw, he jogged up the marble steps and rang the bell. Less than a minute later a butler answered the door and led the way to Justin’s study after Max flashed his credentials.

Justin jumped from his chair as soon as the butler ushered Max inside the mahogany-paneled room. A wide grin plastering the young duke’s mug, he accepted Max’s handshake. “Sheriff Truitt, what an unexpected pleasure.”

“I apologize for showing up at your door without calling first.”

“No need. You know you’re welcome anytime.”

He knew Justin wasn’t only being polite. Unlike many of the other royals, the Duke of Atlanta didn’t stand on formality. And he was genuinely a nice guy. Obviously Reva’s evilness had skipped a few generations, thank the gods.

“Please, have a seat.” Justin indicated the high-backed leather chair facing his desk. “Would you care for coffee or anything?”

“No thanks.” Max settled into the chair. His gaze roved to the bronze sculpture of Poseidon resting on the pedestal behind Justin. It was just one of the many rare and expensive pieces of art on display in the lavish manor. It was also one more reminder to Max of exactly how far down the totem pole he was in comparison to these people. He had no right even imagining Willa in his life. This was the world she belonged in, what she was entitled to. He had nothing to offer her besides himself, and that was pretty damn paltry in comparison to his current surroundings.