Maximum Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 3 (7 page)

“He can make it all better.”

“You’re going to pay for this.”

“You’ll thank me in the morning.”

She flung the pillow to the foot of the bed and tried rolling onto her other side, but her body refused to cooperate. Max moved restlessly in his sleep, and the blanket twisted around his hips. She stared at the intriguing shadow play along the defined ridges of his abdomen. Desire, thick and headier than anything she’d experienced, shimmered through her. “Oh Goddess.”

Shivers wracking her, she swung her legs over the edge of the mattress and stumbled toward Max. Her legs were useless as putty and she nearly fell on top of him. He grunted, instantly jerking awake. “Willa, what is it?” His hands automatically steadied her and he cursed. “You’re burning up. I better call Boone.”

“No. You have what I need.”

“You’re feverish. Let me—” He broke off with another grunt when she caught his bottom lip between her teeth. His eyes widened. “Willa?” The word came out garbled, but there was no mistaking the confused shock underlying it.

She released him and licked her way inside his mouth, her tongue curling around his. Her fingers splayed on his chest, absorbing the shaky timbre of his groan. He was delicious beyond words. Scraping her teeth along his bristly jaw, she made her way to the underside and nipped him before sucking the tender spot with enough force to leave a hickey.

“
Jesus
. Sweetheart, what’s going on here?”

She lapped an upward path along his neck, and he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath her exploring tongue. Continuing her journey north, she bit his chin. “I’m having you.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You’re right. It’s a
brilliant
one.”

“You damn well know that isn’t what I meant.”

“And you talk too much,” she admonished before kissing him again with hungry relish. She stretched flat on top of him, and his body tensed. The T-shirt rode up, leaving nothing but the thin nylon of her panties as a flimsy barrier to the warm flesh of his belly. There could be no possible way he didn’t notice how unbelievably aroused she was.

She got her verification when his palm slid over the curve of her ass and dipped between her legs. A tremor ran through him. His resistance melting a fraction, he coasted his fingers over the soaked crotch of her bikini, creating a slick friction. “You’re so fucking wet.”

If she’d possessed the tiniest modicum of willpower to ignore the powerful need combusting inside her, the gravelly wonder in Max’s tone proved to be her downfall. Scooting up, she wrestled the shirt off before doing the same with her bra.

Max’s gulp echoed in the room, his focus glued to her breasts. “We should wait—”

“No.
Now
.” Seeing he was going to balk again, she wiggled down his torso and hooked her thumbs into his sweats, tugging them down. He’d gone commando. How very considerate of him. Saliva pooling in her mouth, she ogled the thick, rigid column of his shaft before taking it into her mouth. Tuning out Max’s startled intake of air, she sucked halfway down his length, using her hand to take care of the rest.

“
Fuck
.” Max’s hips jerked as she gave the root of his cock a sinuous pump.

She released the bulbous head with a juicy pop and concentrated on the tiny slit, flicking her tongue with teasing, kittenish licks. He swelled even more, pulsing within her grip. Another shuddering moan fell from him, and his hand covered hers. “Come here and let me taste you.”

Wonderful as that sounded, she had a different plan. The fierce desire pushing her wouldn’t be appeased by anything less than penetration at this point, and she wanted—no,
needed
—every scrumptiously hard centimeter of him filling her. Sitting up once more, she maneuvered the crotch of her panties, making room for Max. He blinked when he caught on to her intention, and he scrambled to sit up. “Willa—” His protest morphed into a rough exhale as she impaled herself on his impressive girth.

The inner folds of her labia parted for the engorged head of his cock. Gravity gave her the advantage of easier penetration, and her inner walls expanded before squeezing tight, sucking every inch of Max in a clinging embrace while he sank deep. She felt him everywhere, the sweeping intensity of his energy just as intoxicating as the luscious fullness stretching her.

Tipping her head back, she began riding him, setting a jarring pace. His palm flattened on her tummy, slowing her, and she glanced down. Max’s irises glinted like quicksilver in the twilight. Holding her stare, he slid his hand to where they were joined, his thumb circling her clit in a way that made her quiver and gasp. He continued his lazy strokes over the slippery nubbin, applying exactly the right pressure and speed to send her on a fast track to orgasm. She trembled, wordless cries sticking in her throat as her slick core clenched around him. Her wetness drenched his fingers and cock, coated her thighs. The climax loomed ever closer. Ever bigger.

Desperate sobs shaking her, she ground harder onto Max, until the swollen knob of his shaft butted her cervix.

The orgasm slammed into her, the impact ripping a strangled scream from her throat. Dazzling starbursts of color and light exploded, showering from her pores and illuminating the room in a brilliant blue haze. Dimly, she heard Max’s own shout as his cock pulsed inside her.

Limp and boneless, she slumped on top of him. She detected the mocking laughter of her inner tormentor, but she was too weak to tell it to get lost. Unfortunate, since it only seemed to give the aggravating voice carte blanche to get the last word in before Willa passed out.

“Told you so.”

Chapter Six

Harrison gave the five armed guards patrolling the perimeter of Bon Revere an irritated glance. Pufferfish shifters? It was an insult to the leviathan’s sensibilities how easy this would be. He was still smarting from the blow his ego had taken after getting the smack down from that fucking shark. He’d been looking forward to the opportunity to use his full prowess and ingenuity.

Tugging on his waistcoat, he crept closer to the bank of rhododendrons concealing his covert hiding spot. He despised being on land and adopting this human form. Particularly since the damn butler’s uniform was a constant reminder of his previous employer and mentor. But much as he hated Seven, he owed the slave-driving bastard a small debt of gratitude. If the asshole hadn’t died, this golden opportunity would never have fallen in Harrison’s lap.

Still, no amount of begrudging gratitude would stop him from reconfiguring his wardrobe selection as soon as the first opportunity presented itself. Which should be any minute now.

Focusing on the tall brawny guard on the right, Harrison tapped into the shifter’s mind, ferreting for the information needed. An image materialized and the leviathan’s cells began transforming with the gathered data, taking on the appearance of the guard’s next chain in command.

Harrison abandoned the shadows and approached the gathering of shifters. The tall one he’d mind fucked leapt to attention and waved a salute. “General. We weren’t expecting you back from Florida until next week.”

The stammered admission managed to lift Harrison’s foul mood a fraction. For once, events were going his way. With the general out of town for several more days it made things infinitely easier, since he wouldn’t have to worry about the general unexpectedly showing up and blowing his cover. “I can see that. Do you think I personally hand picked you dipshits so you can stand around scratching your spiny asses?” Harrison puffed out his chest. The shifters gaped at him like they were possibly mentally retarded. He wouldn’t be surprised. “Well,
do you
?”

A chorus of “No sirs” tumbled from the guards.

“Good. Then make yourselves goddamn useful.”

He received another round of vacuous stares. It was beyond him why these things were allowed to procreate.

“W-what exactly do you want us to do, sir?” the chubbiest of the five blabbered.

How about growing some brain cells, for starters.
Keeping that tidbit of advice to himself, Harrison glared the shifter down until the pufferfish looked ready to piss in its camo pants. With a loud gulp, the others scurried to their posts, knocking into each other in their effort to avoid his steely-eyed wrath. Harrison shoved past the trembling guard and made his way inside the mansion. More shifter guards were stationed in various public rooms. He ignored them and ventured to a door flanked on either side by two enormous walrus shifters. His gaze flicked over the ammo belts strapped over both guards’ barrel-like chests while they saluted.

This had to be the right location. “At ease, soldiers.”

The shifters dropped their arms, and Harrison nodded toward the doorway behind them. “I’m here to see the prisoner.”

“Be warned, sir. She’s in a regular snit tonight. Threw her dinner at Ferguson.”

Worthless piece of shit probably deserved it. Harrison twisted the knob and jogged down the steep flight of stairs. At the base of the landing, he came to another door, this one metal and padded with thick, soundproofing foam insulation. Two more guards were stationed outside it. He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, and the shifters frowned. Their stubbornness annoyed him, but he somehow stifled the urge to conk their heads into the wall behind them. “Leave. I’ve been given strict orders to interrogate the prisoner on a private matter.”

Once the pair hustled up the stairs, Harrison wrenched the heavy metal bar from its housing and pushed open the door. The lush strains of some classical piece of music drifted to his ears while he observed the spacious suite he stood in. To call it opulent would be an understatement. A gleaming Steinway sat in one corner, the crystal candelabra competing with the shiny intensity of the multi-tiered chandelier overhead. In the opposite corner, a white silk fainting couch blocked a floor-to-ceiling folding screen inset with ornate jade panels.

Harrison journeyed farther into the room, his combat boots scrunching on the Persian rug. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, my pretty.”

The lovely violin music immediately stopped. He waited, his anticipation mounting. Finally footsteps sounded, and a stunningly beautiful female stepped from behind the other side of the screen. Onyx-dark eyes pinned him in place. “Who the hell are you?”

He spread his arms. “I’m General Lessway.”

“No, you’re not, leviathan.”

Interesting. He’d never encountered an individual capable of detecting his true form beneath the wardrobe of his illusions. “Very well. I see no reason for pretense between us, anyway. My true name is Harrison. I’m here to propose a business arrangement.”

She swept him with a cold, scornful glance. “In case you couldn’t
tell
, I’m a little tied up these days.”

He didn’t miss the sarcasm in her frosty tone. Damn bitch. Soon enough, she would change her tune about looking down on him. “I come bearing a possible solution to your predicament, and I promise you this much—you won’t be disappointed with what I have to offer.”

Her beautiful features adopted an expression of bored indifference. “Doubtful.”

Harrison closed the distance between them, his finger stroking the edge of the piano. Judging from the tightening of his hostess’s mouth, she didn’t like the notion of him soiling her furniture. Not so long ago, in his other incarnation, he would have been the one forced to clean away the smudges and shine the silver. Kiss the ass of those who held more power.

Not anymore.

“The girl. I know where she is.” Had held her in his clutches, as it were. But he couldn’t reveal he’d lost her to that damn shark. Not if he wanted to salvage his ego and earn the compliance of his haughty hostess.

Her eyes narrowed. “What girl?”

The anticipation crested within him again, almost making him giddy. “The one you thought dead.”

She remained aloof until her expression unexpectedly froze, his words registering. Triumph pumped liquid ambrosia through his bloodstream. “I will help you find her.”

His hostess attempted to school her features into cool detachment, but he knew better. The tip of her tongue darted out and moistened her lips. “For what price?”

“Partnership.”

“In what?”

The promise of victorious destiny glimmered within Harrison. “Destroying them all.”

Chapter Seven

The deep rumble of a snore delivered directly into her eardrum snapped Willa awake. For a second, she thought she’d produced it, but then it sounded again. She froze, her thumping heartbeat nearly drowning out the much-too-close snores.

Oh crap, what have I done
this
time?

The warm, solid press of a hard, masculine body beneath hers gave her a good idea. If that weren’t enough of a damning clue, the unmistakable wetness between her thighs sealed the deal.

Moving with less speed than a snail, she lifted onto her elbows and stared down at Max. His features were sleep relaxed, but even with him dead to the world, there was no missing the undeniable sexual satisfaction radiating from him.

She smothered her groan and inched backward. Her thigh grazed his cock and his shaft swelled, nudging her. Max murmured something too low to comprehend. She worriedly eyed his face, looking for any sign he was waking up. Another soft snore broke from him. Gusting a relieved sigh, she resumed her awkward attempt to untangle their limbs. Without thinking, she allowed her gaze to dip to where his cock brushed perilously close to her hip. Out of the blue, a barrage of fractured memories slammed into her brain, every single one raunchier than the last. The most mortifying of them was the recollection of riding Max like he was her personal stud bronco.

Oh Goddess.

She had to get out of there before Max woke up and her embarrassment quadrupled. Or she gave in to the fierce urge to reenact all those wicked memories. Both possibilities were best avoided, in her estimation of things. She wiggled sideways and managed to dislodge his arm from her waist. He grunted but didn’t awaken. Grasping the opportunity, she scrambled to her feet and backed away from Max. Her attention fell on his sweatpants—which were scrunched down around his knees.
Oh jeez
. She hadn’t even waited long enough to let him take them off. Would her mortification never end? After fumbling to get her bra fastened, she located her rumpled capris and her blouse at the foot of the bed and performed the fastest clothes change in history. She slipped on her sandals. Leaving the straps unbuckled, she dashed from the room.