Accidentally...Over?

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  For the first time ever, Ashli felt no barriers. Emotionally or intimately.

  Ashli began stroking him firmly, admiring the view, but then he swiped her hand away. “No. I am not joking, Ashli. I’m about to pop off like a rocket.”

  Yes. That’s what she wanted. She licked her lips and released him.

  She kneeled down and started licking off the delicious coating.

  “Holy hell, woman. Don’t do that.”

  She slid him between her lips and sucked him in. His hips began pumping his cock into her mouth with vigorous short thrusts. His arousal only seemed to turn her on even more. Could a woman orgasm without being intimately touched? Because she felt like the one who was about to “pop off like a rocket.”

  She worked her mouth over him, cupping his large balls, which were now beginning to tighten. His primal grunts and groans only urged her to go faster.

  “Ashli, you must stop. I-I—”

  No way would she stop. This was by far the hottest thing she’d ever experienced.

  Finally, Máax let out a throaty, masculine groan, and she tasted him in her mouth. She’d never done this for any man, but she knew she’d just become addicted to him. The taste of his manhood on her tongue, the sound of him being driven over the edge. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced.

  Máax’s cock pulsed a few more times in her hand, and she looked up at him. She could hear his rapid breath and see his chest heaving.

  “I’ve never… Bloody hell, Ashli. You’re amazing.”

  He quickly lifted her up, placing her on her feet. Gods, he was strong.

  “Bed. Now,” he said.

  “Hate to interrupt, but I fear I must.”

  Ashli gasped when the deep and unfamiliar voice rang out from the doorway. The man in a suit had dark shoulder-length hair and turquoise eyes just like hers. He was almost as large as Máax.

  “For fuck sake, Niccolo. Turn your back.” Máax calmly reached for a towel from the stack by the side of the tub.

  The stranger raised one dark brow and sighed, turning around with a deliberate slowness. “But it appears as though you two were doing something worth watching.”

  “Fuck off, vampire. You’re early,” Máax growled.

  Vampire? Ashli clutched the fabric of her robe and covered any visible flesh.

  With his back turned, still standing in the doorway, he replied, “It is officially nighttime, and per our agreement, I’m here to retrieve you and the woman.”

  “Máax, what’s going on? Who’s this guy?” Ashli asked.

  The man raised his hand and made a tiny wave into the air. “General Niccolo DiConti. Pleased to meet you, Miss Rosewood.”

  “Nothing to worry about,” Máax said, clearly irritated. “He is an old friend of the family.” There was a bit of squeaking when Máax stepped from the tub. “You may wait in the living room while we clean up, Niccolo.”

  “No can do. If I leave, you little bunnies might go at it. I’ll be waiting three or four hours. I’ll stay right here in the doorway.” He flashed a wicked little glance over his shoulder and smiled.

  “I am sure Ashli would like to shower,” Máax said with a menacing voice. “Would your wife Helena approve of your voyeuristic ways?”

  “Downstairs it is.” Niccolo disappeared.

  “Come, Ashli. Let me get you showered.” Máax tugged her toward the large glass-encased stall.

  “Excuse me?” She pulled her arm way. She wasn’t in the mood for communal bathing; she simply wanted to know what was going on. They’d put their serious discussion on hold only because their lust had gotten the better of them; however, that little moment of blind stupidity was gone. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who that man is, why he’s here, and why I feel like we’re in trouble.”

  She watched Máax open the stall, turn on the water, and begin rinsing the caramel coating from his skin. “Ashli, I have done many, many things, which require explaining to my brethren. You, however, have nothing to fear.”

  Not that she’d let him go anywhere without her, but something wasn’t adding up. “Then why can’t I stay here? Why did he say he’s here for me, too?” she asked.

  Crap. Her brain did a belly flop. “Did you just call that guy a vampire?”

  Máax signed exasperatedly. “Niccolo was once the general of the vampire queen’s army. Now he and his wife rule the vampires, although he is no longer a vampire himself.”

  “Okay…” The powerful stream of water ricocheted from Máax’s hard body and sprayed her face.

  “It is much to take in all at once,” he admitted, “but you are doing extremely well.” His voiced dropped an octave. “Very, very well. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen any female as talented as you.”

  “There’s a man downstairs waiting to haul us both away, and you’re talking about what I did to your spicy meat wrap?” Honestly, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, either. What was wrong with her?

  “It is called a penis, Ashli. And yes, perhaps I was. Why? Is that offensive? Are we not both adults?”

  “No, I’m an adult. You’re just ancient.” She paused for a breath. “Why is he here? What did you do? We are coming back, right?” She vaguely remembered that Máax had said something in the hospital, when they’d officially met, about his current invisible condition being a punishment. He’d never told her what he’d done, but not like they’d had much time to talk. Everything had happened so fast.

  Máax turned off the shower and stepped out, dripping all over the floor. The faint outline of his face expressed some level of distress.

  “I… I…” Máax rubbed his jaw.

  “Máax! Sixty seconds,” that man Niccolo’s voice echoed from downstairs.

  “Dammit,” Máax grumbled. “I’ll hold them off. See you downstairs. You’ll find new clothes and undergarments in the closet.”

  Oh no. He wasn’t sneaking away without answering her questions. “Máax, don’t you dare leave without telling me—” She blinked, and he was gone. A trail of little puddles confirmed it.

  Sixteen

  After a quick shower and rummage through the “Ohmygod, is this really a closet?” closet, Ashli dressed in a long stretchy red dress, which was a little too tight for her taste, but a far better choice than the lederhosen or giant teddy bear costume she’d found (she definitely needed to ask Máax about that later), and went downstairs to the living room. She nearly tripped on the last step but caught herself on the railing.

  There, four men, all incredibly large with pale skin and unusually dark eyes, wearing leather pants and slightly snug tees, huddled around that Niccolo man, quietly talking. They looked like the kind of guys who ate hornets’ nests for breakfast. Or maybe knives.

  Despite the eighty-degree weather, Ashli shivered in her matching red sandals.

  “Máax?” She pushed a few stray locks of wet curls from her eyes.

  His voice projected from the stairs behind her. “I am here.”

  She jumped. “I thought you were waiting down here.”

  Silence.

  “Did you just shrug?” she asked.

  “Perhaps,” he replied coyly.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I merely went to check on you,” he explained, “but found the show much too enticing to pass up. Who knew that watching a woman dress could be as sexy as watching her undress? Especially when she puts on a black satin thong and matching bra, handpicked by a deity.”

  The men in the room all made throaty, hungry, animal-like sounds.

  Ummm. Okaaaay.

  She shook her head. “You and I are going to have a chat about boundaries. And by the way…” She leaned toward him and whispered, “Are those…” She could hardly bring herself to say the words.

  One of the men, thinnish, tall, and handsome with short dark, messy hair and warm brown eyes, pointed to his ear. “We can hear you. Vampire super-hearing. And you must be the notorious Ashli. It is quite an honor.” He bowe
d. “Not every day that a woman convinces a deity to give the entire human race the middle finger. How did you convince Máax to do it?”

  “What?” She turned toward Máax—well, to where he last stood, anyway. She really did need to put a bell on him. “What’s he talking about?” Shit. “And are they really vampires? Blood”—she swallowed—“drinkers?”

  An invisible hand stroked her arm from the expected direction. “Nothing to fear, my love. These vampires are good, complete assholes and childish in every way including their addiction to Netflix dramedies and Foosball, but good. They only dine on those with evil souls.”

  What the heck was Netflix? “Good to know, Máax, but,” she whispered, “we need to talk. Why is that vampire calling me notorious and saying you gave everyone the bird? Why do I feel like we are being taken prisoner?”

  “Máax,” said Niccolo, “we really must leave. So please get your human under control.”

  Huh? Had he just spoken about her as if she were Máax’s pet? “Excuse me, but I don’t recall the ceremony making any of you scary big dudes my keeper. And let me remind you, you’re in my house. Though it doesn’t feel like my house. But I’m told it’s mine. So you can all climb a tall tree and go scratch yourselves because I’m not going anywhere until someone tells me what the hell is going on.”

  Niccolo and his men simply stood there staring, grinning like giddy fools.

  These good vampires kind of remind me of clowns with all that smiling. So creepy! “Okay. Out! All of you big, weird, smiling men, errr, vampires whatever-the-infernum, just get out.” Ashli shooed them toward the front door.

  “Gentlemen, I’m feeling inexplicably generous; let’s give them a moment to talk.” Niccolo glanced at her and held up his finger. “A moment. Nothing more. I have the sudden urge to write a love poem for Helena before I get home, and I’m due in five minutes. I promised my daughter Matty I would be home in time for My Little Pony.”

  Huh?

  “Oh. Can I watch?” asked the vampire with the kind eyes.

  “Sure, Sentin.” Niccolo shrugged and headed out the door. “Winx is on right after.”

  The men, errr, vampires, followed Niccolo outside. “I really like that Ashli,” one of them said, “she kind of reminds me of Helena.”

  “Yes,” Niccolo agreed. “I think Ashli will get along splendidly with the rest of the girls. And she smells nice, too. Kind of sweet.”

  Sweet? Who’s he calling sweet? She slammed the door behind them and turned toward the loud sighing sound. “Máax? I’m going to give you one chance to come clean. But I warn you, if I find out you withheld anything, you’ll never get my trust back again.”

  The ground rolled violently beneath their feet, and Ashli stumbled to the side. “Crap. What was that?”

  “A sign. The end is near.”

  Máax stared at Ashli, feeling as though his heart might crumble like a high-rise in the big one, to use an apropos metaphor; however, it wasn’t because of the earthquake, though that certainly sucked. It is the lie.

  He wanted to ignore the uncomfortable feeling, but frankly, he’d never experienced anything quite like it. His soul felt tainted. How long would he stand it?

  Think, man. You never intended to keep the truth from her, anyway. You merely lied to get her here, to save her life. She will understand. She will forgive you when she hears that you did it out of concern for her well-being. You had no other choice.

  Máax took a stiff breath. “Ashli, the truth is—”

  “That was earthquake number eight! Sorry, bro!” A blur of leather pants swooped past him and swiped Ashli away.

  “Dammit, Sentin. You fucking idi—” He felt a cool hand clasp his arm.

  One moment he stood in Ashli’s living room, ready to spill the godly beans, and the next, he stood inside the Uchben prison in the center of the main floor where his brethren yelled from their cells. Rather loudly, he might add. Some hurtled insults at each other, some toward the line of vampires standing guard alongside a rather large contingency of Uchben. That’s right, Uchben—the gods’ human allies, each one sworn to obey, serve, and protect humankind and the gods.

  Oh, boy. This just got unnecessarily more interesting. For whatever reason the Uchben were now assisting in the gods’ captivity. Cimil must have convinced them.

  Máax quickly surveyed the chaotic scene before him and spotted his beautiful Ashli in her red dress, a wild mess of damp curls pulled into a sexy little knot at the nape of her neck, standing next to Sentin. She did not appear to be afraid, more stunned really. Probably by the sight of his brethren behind enclosed glass. Who could blame her? After all, they were an eccentric lot. His brother K’ak, for example, wore a metallic-silver toga and a two-foot-high silver-and-turquoise headdress depicting intertwining serpents. K’ak still hadn’t selected an official deity title, like God of Giant Obnoxious Headdresses, for example, because he didn’t have a flagship power, but nevertheless he had many gifts. Such as the ability to chuck lightning bolts, which he currently did at the glass.

  Then there was their sister, Colel Cab, the Mistress of Bees. One couldn’t help but stare at the enormous living beehive atop her head. Of course, the bees swarmed in her cell, completely obscuring Colel. Then there were the others: Akna, the Goddess of Fertility, so powerful that even rocks couldn’t resist multiplying in her presence (the Pet Rock craze of the seventies was all her fault); Acan, the God of Intoxication and Wine, aka Belch, who currently lay facedown on the floor next to a beer keg, the hose sticking from his mouth as he suckled like a babe; and Ixtab, the Goddess of Happiness, once known as the Goddess of Suicide because her gifts of producing happiness depend upon removing one’s evil thoughts and redeploying them into another living creature—usually an evil, sick, or dying person—and her incubus slash vampire mate Antonio, aka the Spanish incu-pire. Or was that the vamp-ubus? He couldn’t remember. Then there was Camaxtli, the Goddess of the Hunt, aka Fate, who looked like a blonde Wonder Woman carrying bows and arrows in lieu of a lasso; Chaam, God of Male Virility, the master of seduction, with signature nipple-length waves of black hair, and his mate Maggie; Votan, the God of Death and War, aka Guy Santiago (words could not describe what mortal women experienced when their gazes set upon him) and his lovely, pregnant redheaded mate Emma; Zac, the God of Temptation; Ah-Ciliz, the God of Eclipses, aka A.C.; and last but not least, Kinich, ex–God of the Sun, the original golden boy, now vampire—long, long story—and husband to his also-pregnant Penelope, the current keeper of his solar powers and the official leader of the House of Gods, although he and Penelope shared responsibilities.

  Yes, they were an immortal zoo. But wasn’t every family a collection of odd creatures?

  Niccolo and one of his men sifted beside Máax, pushing him back. Máax stumbled and caught himself from falling.

  “Would you fucking watch where you land?” Máax growled.

  Niccolo’s turquoise eyes twinkled before he chuckled. “Sorry, didn’t see you standing there.”

  Why did everyone think his transparency was so damned funny? It wasn’t. It blew to be invisible.

  “Máax! Bad god! Bad!” Cimil’s voice screeched through the other gods’ roars.

  A silence quickly fell over the prison.

  Kinich, ex–Sun God and the epitome of all things sunny right down to his skin, hair, and fucking annoying altruistic attitude, placed his palms flat against the glass. His large body eclipsed the petite brunette behind him, Penelope. “Máax, where the hell have you been? Let us the fuck out of here right now. Or so help me gods—”

  “I am not the one holding you prisoner,” Máax barked. “That said, keeping everyone jailed does seem like the logical solution, albeit a temporary one. Except in my case. Which cell is mine by the way?” Máax was ready to face the consequences of his actions.

  “You think we’re worried about locking you up?” Cimil rolled her eyes and then pointed straight at Ashli. “As if that matters now! We’ve had eight earthquakes
. Eight! Human cities are about to crumble like a fine, drunken goat cheese! And why don’t you try explaining, Máax, what the hell Miss 1993 is doing here? The one thing I told you not to do, you did! Now we’re all completely screwed. And not in a fabulous orgy kind of way, either!”

  “Máax.” Ashli’s wounded expression pierced his heart from across the room.

  Well, time to face the ugly music. This was not how he wanted Ashli to learn the horrible truth. He’d brought her forward in time, rendering Cimil’s “cure for the apocalypse” prophecy null and void.

  But Ashli cares for you; she will understand.

  Or be a thousand times more hurt.

  Máax cleared his throat, and all eyes shifted in his general direction. “Before anyone passes judgment, I ask that you hear me out. I realize Cimil believes that in order to halt the apocalypse, I had to leave Ashli in 1993 and allow her to arrive here through the normal course of time, but that simply was not possible. Ashli would not have survived, and I had to save her. She is my mate.”

  Ashli pushed her way through the crowded room, following the sound of his voice. “Máax? What are you talking about?” The look of hurt in her eyes was almost unbearable.

  The entire room instantly fell into a hush, all eyes glued to Ashli.

  He swallowed. “I was told, Ashli, that in order for your destiny to be fulfilled, in order to halt the apocalypse, I could not bring you forward in time. Your life needed to play out the normal way without time travel. However, that is the silliest—”

  “You lied to me! To me?” Ashli’s face turned rage red. “How could you? I trusted you!”