Max's Desire

by Elyzabeth M. VaLey

  Chapter Twelve

  “There you are, Eva.”

  Pedro’s booming voice tore open the cocoon of warmth she was sharing with Max and she jumped back. She blinked. She’d been so focused on the man in front of her, she’d forgotten where she was and who she’d come with. Pedro had paid for her company tonight, and she had to deliver. It was her job. Even if she didn’t want to leave Max, she had to. She twisted away from him.

  “Pedro,” she cried, injecting her voice with a good dose of fake vivacity.

  Max grasped her wrist, and her heart skipped a beat.

  “Eva, come with me,” he said, the urgency in his tone making goosebumps sprout on her flesh.

  His eyes promised her something she didn’t dare to want. She shook her head. What was it about this man that had her reacting this way? She didn’t know anything about him. He could be a murderer, a freak, an asshole. She bit her lip. It wasn’t the vibe she got. Standing at his side, crowded between his arms, she’d felt strangely safe. As if she could let her guard down and he wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t push her away as others had done throughout her life. Yet, she had a duty to perform and couldn’t give in to the dream. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, yanking out of his grasp.

  “Oye, tú quién eres? Déjala en paz.”

  Suddenly, Pedro swept past her and made a beeline for Max, shoving him hard. Max didn’t budge. He blinked, his face mirroring her shock.

  “Es mi chica. Yo pague por ella.”

  She’s my girl. I paid for her. Eva cursed. What was this about? Jealousy? Precisely, he’d contracted her services. She belonged to him for the night.

  “Pedro.”

  “I have no idea what you said, little man, but you’re in no state—” Max rumbled.

  “Encima un guiri, la madre que—”

  She stared in shock as Pedro renewed his efforts, pummeling Max’s chest. A lock of over-gelled hair tumbled over his face, and sweat gathered at his temple. This had to end now. They were making a scene.

  “Pedro, tranquilizate. Es un amigo.” Eva placed a placating hand on Pedro’s shoulder. He turned to face her, a slew of angry words spewing out of him. Max took a step in their direction, but Eva waved him away. He didn’t need to get involved. She’d dealt with clients like Pedro before.

  First, she had to calm him down and reassure him in his masculinity. Sensually, Eva ran her fingertips across his right arm, bringing his hand to her waist. Her skin crawled, but she leaned into him. God, he reeked of sweat. She plunged ahead.

  “Why are you wasting your energy on him?” she purred into the Spaniard’s ear. “I’m yours tonight.”

  Pedro’s hand dropped to her ass, cupping it. His pudgy fingers dug into her, and she struggled against the urge to run for the hills. He aimed to kiss her, but she moved her head. His breath stank of alcohol.

  “Vamonos,” he slurred.

  Let’s go. She licked her lips. Now came the hardest part. He had to hear the truth.

  “No. You’re drunk,” she stated flatly.

  “No.”

  “Yes, you are. You tried getting into a fight with a man twice your size.”

  “I was trying to defend you,” he argued, his face contorting with fury.

  “I don’t need a hero, and you know the agency rules. It was in the contract. Alcohol and drugs are prohibited.”

  “It’s a party, we drink,” he said.

  “Yes, but you’re intoxicated and violent. It puts me in danger. I’ll help you find your friends or call a taxi for you, whatever you prefer, but then I’m leaving.”

  “Puta,” Pedro said.

  Eva raised her eyebrows. He’d just proven her point by calling her a bitch.

  “Te voy a denunciar a la agencia,” he continued.

  She shrugged. If he wished to report her, so be it. She’d be reporting him. Pedro was a first-time customer. He’d gotten drunk, which could result in a safety issue for her and perhaps more people. Furthermore, he was being verbally abusive. There were rules he had to adhere to, and he had blatantly ignored them. She scanned the room, searching for the people they’d been speaking to earlier.

  “You’re looking for him, aren’t you?” Pedro snorted. “One cock isn’t enough for you? Whore. Does he know?”

  Eva frowned. Maybe it’d be better to call a cab. She spotted a server. They had to have a taxi service for customers. Pedro grabbed her arm, jerking her to him.

  “A dónde vas zorra? Por lo que he pagado al menos me debes una mamada.”

  Eva froze. Her pulse raced. She forced herself to breathe slowly through her nose. She had to keep calm. She was in a room full of people, and Pedro wouldn’t get away with hurting her in any form.

  “I don’t owe you anything, much less a blow job,” she said slowly.

  “Release her. Now.”

  Max’s baritone filled her ears, followed by a hand on her shoulder. Her knees weakened. She didn’t need to be rescued, but she couldn’t deny she was grateful for his timely appearance. Pedro dropped his hold, and Max gently pulled her to his side.

  “I might not speak Spanish, but her body language is quite clear. She doesn’t want to go with you,” Max said.

  Pedro’s nostrils flared. He glared at them. Max took a step forward.

  “Keep her. She’s not worth it,” Pedro said. “Puta.”

  Giving them the finger, he returned to the party, grabbing another drink while swaying toward his crowd.

  Eva sighed. She turned to face Max. No wonder Pedro had scampered off. Danger radiated off him.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  His gaze softened immediately. He placed his hands on her upper forearms, electricity darting from his fingertips across her flesh, creating a blend of raw need and relief.

  “Are you okay?” Max asked.

  She bit her lip. Would it be too forward of her if she hugged him? He seemed to read her mind and simply tugged her into his arms, wrapping her in his embrace. She breathed in his scent, woodsy with a hint of cinnamon. She sighed, relishing the warmth and the comfort he brought. Tilting her head, Max searched her face. Brushing the pad of his thumb across her cheek, he leaned forward. Eva closed her eyes. Her mouth tingled in expectation, but the kiss never came. Max pressed his lips to her forehead, the tenderness in his touch breaking her heart and forcing her to suck in her cheeks to keep from sobbing out in disappointment. Had he been turned off by Pedro’s words?

  “Let’s get out of here,” Max said.

  “Sure.” She cracked a smile. “I’m free for the night.”

  Max chuckled. He glanced at his watch, then took her hand and swiftly led her to the coat rack, where they collected their garments. After helping her into her white, faux-fur coat, he shrugged into his navy blue outercoat and wrapped a matching scarf around his neck. She watched him, enjoying the way the material fit him.

  “Like what you see?” Max asked. He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

  Eva grinned.

  “It’s hard not to,” she admitted.

  “Good, now you know how I feel.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

  “Yes,” she replied, tucking her hand into the crook.

  They stepped outside. Eva took in a deep breath, enjoying the cool winter air and the vibrant atmosphere which permeated the city. A motorcycle roared past and a taxi honked, annoyed. Bright street lights lit the grey stone floor of the sidewalk where a group of women wearing sashes and penis headbands walked, guffawing and belting out “Despacito.”

  “Damn, it’s cold,” Max said.

  She laughed.

  “It’s not that bad.” She glanced up at him. “Where do you want to go?”

  Max shrugged.

  “I have no idea,” he confessed. “I don’t know the city well enough. But somewhere we can have a drink and talk would be nice.”

  She smiled.

  “I know just the place. We’ll go up to Plaza Santa Ana.”
/>   “Kitten, I’ll follow you to Hell and back,” he said. “Just lead the way.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  To Hell and back.

  Max meant it. He’d travel to Lust’s and kill the Sin with his bare hands if it meant spending eternity with Eva. He bowed his head against the wind.

  “To Hell and back, huh?” Eva said. “Madrid can be pretty wild, but I wouldn’t call it Hell.” She pointed to a nearby crossing. “We need to go in that direction.”

  They headed to the left, where the road dipped and widened downward. The city beat with an 18th century charm mingled with present-day functionality. To both sides, grey stone buildings of various heights glowed, illuminated by an aesthetically pleasing combination of white and amber light. Traffic moved steadily throughout, adding a touch of red to the blend.

  “Is this your first time in Madrid?” Eva asked.

  The traffic light changed and chirped, indicating they could cross.

  “No. I was here once, many years ago. I hardly did any tourism.”

  “Really? What a shame. Are you planning on doing any now?”

  “Only if I’ve got someone special to show me around.”

  “I’d be happy to be your tour guide,” she said, squeezing his arm. “Come this way.”

  They took a sharp right, entering an area in which the historical weight was still significant, but newer businesses mingled with the old. Scaffolding and parked motorcycles narrowed the sidewalk, forcing them to walk closer together.

  “Is this normal? So many people out and about?” Max asked, barely avoiding a collision with a couple holding hands.

  Eva guided him across another crosswalk. “Well, you know how they say New York is the city that never sleeps?” She shook her head. “Madrid is it. There are always people out and about, at midnight, three a.m., or six p.m. It’s never empty, especially this area.”

  “Wow.”

  They took a narrower street, also brimming with pedestrians, as well as PR reps trying to catch their attention by offering free shots and a fun time at their venue. Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck stood, and every step he took seemed to weigh him down. The sensation of dozens of eyes on him made his skin crawl, oppressing his lungs until he had to force himself to remember to breathe.

  “We’re almost there,” Eva said. “That’s where we are going.” She pointed to the top of a white building illuminated with a gentle blue light.

  Max glanced upward. Ice whizzed across his veins, leaving behind a burning trail of anger. Inferum. They hung from balconies and roofs, watching those below with sunken eyes burning from within like the fires of Hell. He grasped Eva’s hand. They’d have to get past him first before they got their filthy claws on his mate.

  “Eva—”

  She squeezed his fingers and pushed forward. Max clenched his teeth, following. He had to remember she didn’t see the Sin’s minions as he did. For her, the Inferum crawling across a wall, its gaze set on them as the next target, was nothing more than a funny shadow created by an unknown source.

  Not to him nor the creature. He might not have his weapons, but Max knew the Inferum would still recognize him for what he was: a Guardian. He glared at the creature, forcing it to stop in its tracks. However, the demon didn’t scuttle back to safety. It stopped and sneered at him, victory clear upon its deformed features. Why?

  “Just a little bit more,” Eva said.

  He glanced at her. Realization hit him in the gut, stealing his breath. Aslan had been right. He was walking hand in hand with the enemy. Did she even know? She was a creature of darkness and despair. A succubus. The world around him spiraled. Spots danced behind his vision, blurring everything. Eva squeezed his hand and smiled at him. His fear receded. There was no evil in her gaze, only an inner light which shone brighter than the stars. He clenched his jaw, determination coursing through him. They’d find a way to work it out.

  “This is Plaza de Santa Ana,” Eva said.

  Suddenly, the street opened up into a large square. Bare trees lined the sides, and tables had been set with outdoor heaters to accommodate smokers. Men and women strolled through the area, entering and leaving bars like tokens on a pinball machine.

  “Tio bueno,” a group of young women shouted from a nearby playground.

  He glanced toward them and they broke into a fit of giggles, although one of them lifted her large plastic cup in mock salute.

  “First, what did they say? And second, is drinking in the street allowed?”

  Eva laughed. The sound traveled straight to his chest, sending warmth across his limbs.

  “Technically, drinking in the streets is not allowed, but everyone does it. It’s called botellon. They buy cheap booze and drink it in parks or plazas before heading to the club. And before you ask, yes, if the police catch them, they’ll be fined.”

  “Okay. Don’t see the point of freezing your ass in the cold, but each to its own. What was it they said?”

  Eva’s lips twitched.

  “They called you a hunk.”

  “Oh. Are you sure they were speaking to me and not you?”

  “Tio is a way to call a man. Tia is for women. They were definitely speaking to you,” she explained.

  “They must not have seen you,” Max said.

  Eva laughed.

  “Or you’re just incredibly hot. It’s here.” She directed him to the building he’d glimpsed earlier. Max hesitated. It was a hotel.

  “Eva—”

  His mate’s eyebrows quirked, and she pressed her mouth together.

  “Worried I’m kidnapping you to have my way with you, Max?” she asked in a playful tone. “I thought you said you’d go with me to Hell and back.”

  Unable to help himself, Max pulled her close and cupped the back of her head. Her lips parted and he had to tap into his self-control to stop from swooping in and claiming them.

  “Kitten,” he said huskily. “You should be the one worrying.”

  Eva blushed. Max swallowed. What was he doing? He could sense her arousal almost as desperate as his. Her earlier disappointment when he hadn’t kissed her resurfaced. He’d hurt her and that was the last thing he wanted, but his palpitating chest wound reminded him of the danger of succubae. He vowed to keep his hands to himself until he could find out more about her species and mixed relationships. So far, he was failing miserably.

  “What are we doing here, Eva?” he asked, reluctantly releasing her.

  “We’re going to the rooftop terrace,” she replied, taking the steps into the building.

  Fuck. He’d done it again. He ran his fingers through his hair, wishing he could explain, but it was too soon. No human would understand what he was after knowing him for barely a few hours. Her own nature only complicated matters. As a sex demon, Eva exuded sex appeal, and he wasn’t oblivious to her power. Add their mating into the factor and his balls were in danger of quickly becoming blue. He needed to be stronger. For both their sakes.

  Eva waved him over to where she conversed with a heavy built man who hardly glanced his way before ushering them into an elevator.

  “That was quick,” Max commented.

  “Fran knows me and owes me a favor or two.”

  The elevator pinged and the doors opened to reveal a large, crowded space. In the center, a bartender poured drinks and to one side, atop a platform, a DJ played chill out music. Exotic plants mingled with outdoor heaters and low, white, faux-leather couches.

  “Are we going to find room?” Max asked.

  “Yes.”

  Eva led him around to an area set aside with a velvet rope.

  “Are we allowed to be here?”

  “We are,” she said, unhooking it so he could go through. “The best views are on this side.” She walked him to the edge, where the glass panels placed for safety reasons didn’t detract from the breathtaking view. Madrid sprawled at his feet, framed by two eclectic columns and twinkling beneath moonlight and city lights. The city was beautiful, but
his gaze landed on the reflection of the woman at his side. She looked out, her bearing tall and strong, her cheeks pink from the cold and her eyes with a sweetness which was impossible to hide beneath her makeup. His heart constricted. How was it possible to love someone you’d hardly just met?

  “It’s incredible,” Max said, facing her.

  “It’s pretty cool, right? We can sit right here and chat while enjoying the view.” She stepped away from him, shrugging off her coat and placing it on the nearest seat. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Please, Eva, allow me.”

  “Nonsense.” Eva waved him off. “I speak Spanish, so it’ll be quicker if I go. What do you want?”

  “All right.” Max grinned, unable to argue against her logic. “Gin tonic.”

  “I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

  “I’ll be here,” he promised.

  She moved quickly, no doubt escaping his presence. If finding his mate was overwhelming to him, he could hardly imagine how she felt. Was he as alluring to her as she was to him? He undid his bow and opened the top two buttons of his shirt. He reclined back and shut his eyes. Nearby he could hear the hum of voices, but here, in the semi-darkness broken by lanterns, he enjoyed the silence. The Inferum, Lust, the Sins, everything was far away, and the only thing which mattered was his mate. Eva. A sharp pang cut through his chest. A succubus. He sighed. So much for peace of mind.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Eva wound her way around the rooftop terrace. Fear and excitement mingled, sending jolts of nervous energy coursing through her. Her heart raced and her palms were surprisingly clammy. She’d never felt this way about anyone and didn’t understand why it was happening. Max was handsome, but she’d had her share of good-looking men.

  No, it was something else, but she couldn’t say what. Being with him was easy, and her life had never been easy. She’d had to fight her way through it, like a hammer hitting a nail over concrete. However, she’d persevered. Always on her own, without needing anyone. Until tonight. The idea of moving on without him painted a bleak picture. Why? Did she want this? She could walk out now. Never look back.

  She peered at the area where Max sat. She couldn’t see him, but it was enough for her to know he was there.