His low rumble is filled with matching lust as I tangle my fingers in his hair. My desire unleashes more of his own, and he dips back in to lavish the same tantalizing treatment to my other breast. He nips and sucks and licks, tempting the balloon in my chest to nearly burst.
Never mind that the pulse between my thighs is shredding all my reasons to stop. I tighten around his waist, instinct driving me to create more friction there. A little voice in my head tells me that this is all too much, too fast—but a louder voice is screaming it’s not fast enough. The danger is quickly swallowed up by the lust that’s burning through me. The flames are consuming, and I don’t care.
I don’t want to stop. I never want to stop.
He lifts his head to take my mouth in another kiss. This one is more brutal than the others. Like maybe he’s getting close to the edge of his control. It should worry me, but it doesn’t. I trust him. I trust whatever this is between us.
“Kara…”
My name breaks on his lips.
“I don’t want to stop,” I answer in a fevered whisper.
“Good. Because I want to taste more of you. So much more.”
He inches his hands higher until the tips of his fingers reach the straps of my thong.
“I want to make you come, Kara. I feel like I’m going to lose my mind if I can’t taste you.”
Our gazes lock. There’s so much asking and hunger in his blue depths. I’m robbed of any uncertainty about where he’s taking this. He strokes his thumb along the front of my panties. I shudder against him at the hint of the orgasm he’s promising me.
“Say yes,” he murmurs, stroking me once more.
I answer with a moan, which he must take as a yes, because he lifts me away from the window and sets me down on the edge of his desk.
Without breaking eye contact, he slides my panties down my legs and tosses them away. Then he’s on his knees, dragging his tongue and hot kisses along my inner thighs. I’m trembling. Somehow in this delicious chaos, I recognize it’s not just lust. It’s fear and anticipation and everything Maximus makes me feel that I shouldn’t. Everything we’re doing that’s forbidden and wrong but feels so incredibly right. Unbelievably perfect…
He looks up at me with that intense gaze again. “Kara, you’re shaking.”
“Just nerves.” The words come out too breathy and light. I swear he can see through it to everything I’m not saying. Maybe he’s even figuring out what kind of line I’m crossing here. A line I’ve never crossed with anyone before. Just the idea of it has always been too dangerous. And nobody has ever felt worth the risk.
When he stills, the vibration between us changes. Thickens. It’s more real now. More significant.
“We can stop. If you’re not sure…”
I shake my head. He pauses a moment, like maybe he’s weighing my words—or the truth in them.
“I’m okay,” I promise. “I’m sure.”
He brings his hand to my stomach, then my sternum. His brows knit from the moment his palm presses on the spot where my heart is flying beneath my ribs. For another agonizing second, I think my trepidation may stop him…
“Lie down for me, beautiful.”
Thank the stars it doesn’t.
The sexy murmur and possessive push he gives me does something to my insides. A fresh hit of desire makes my head buzz to new levels as my back hits the broad wooden surface. Then I’m launched into another dimension when his lips and tongue sweep against my most sensitive flesh. I bow off the desk with a thready cry. My hips take on a mind of their own. And we’re quickly caught up in an erotic game of push and pull. A test of strength and will. Patience and hunger.
Even as he manages to keep me spread and pinned and climbing with every lash of his tongue, I feel my world tilting. The pressure in my chest is everywhere now. Pulsing down every limb. Hooking deep in my belly.
“Maximu—ah!” My hands fly from his hair to the mess of papers above my head, finally grasping the smooth edge of the wood.
All too quickly, the orgasm hits me. It’s painful but wonderful in its intensity. The tortured groan that erupts from Maximus sets off more of my own untethered cries. I hang on through the violent throbs of pleasure. When the last ribbons of delirium taper off, all I can do is whimper.
“Come here,” he rasps.
He lifts me so our mouths and torsos clash once more. Another soft moan vibrates between us. He tunnels his hands in my hair, angling me until we have to tear away to breathe.
But his features change the second we pull apart. His eyes widen as he scans over my face.
“Kara… Your eyes.”
I suck in a sharp breath, turn my head, and cast my gaze downward. If rapture looks anything like fury does on me, Maximus has just witnessed the fire in my eyes. Another inconvenient symptom of my biology that I’ve learned to hide. One I should have considered before going this far with him.
“What’s wrong?” he presses. “Kara?”
“Everything,” I mumble.
“What? Why?”
I don’t answer. I’m too damn close to spilling everything as it is.
What the hell was I thinking? What the hell am I thinking?
He brushes his hand across mine, but the moment he does, the deep grooves I’ve left in his desk come into focus.
And he was worried about hurting me in the throes of passion?
With that question, I’ve answered my first one.
I’m not thinking here at all. And that’s the problem.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I should go.”
I right my dress, slip out of his grasp, and grab my clutch from the shelf by the window.
I can’t even look at him. I can’t say goodbye. All I can do is run away.
Chapter Eighteen
Maximus
It’s not the fact that she’s bolted from me—again—and left me with more questions than ever before.
It’s not even the lust I’ve been battling all night because of her, or how she’s made me believe, more than ever, the color red was created just for her.
It’s more than that. Because now, we’re more.
I’ve seen more than just her bare skin and her slick arousal. More than her succulent mouth parting for the hungry invasion of mine. More than the heat of her breathtaking body as she opened for me, waiting for me to taste her rich depths.
I’ve seen her secrets.
Some willingly given. But others, including the revelation that made her flee, not so much. So as the sun crests over Alameda’s campus and I finish grading the last term project proposal on my desk, I’m as frustrated and furious as I was eight hours ago when I watched her tear out of here like she was on fire.
Fuck. Me.
Was she on fire?
What really happened last night?
I’ve replayed it all in my head. The perfect minutes that won’t stop tormenting me, threatening to punch a hole through the slacks of my wrinkled tux. The parts that have me restlessly pacing through the morning sunbeams, wishing they were moonlight all over again. Burning for a chance to relive it all—but with the knowledge I have now.
Which is what, exactly?
The taunt of my brain has me stopping with a sharp jerk. I’m done with this pathetic mooning. There’s a truth here as glaring as the sunlight in my eyes and the charcoaled dents in my desk. Getting to Kara’s secrets won’t be as easy as unveiling her passion. But I’m not a stranger to challenges. I’ve faced a huge one called self-control every day of my life.
And now I’ve got a major clue to jump-start my quest.
An hour later, bearing a stack of every screenplay Giovani Valari ever wrote, I make my way toward the farthest corner of the second floor in Alameda’s library. The building is as quiet as a tomb right now, due no doubt to a lot of people still sleeping off hangovers. Fine by me. There’s enough noise in my head from all the questions still burning through it.
What’s the core of my connection with this
woman? This pull that seems to defy biology, chemistry, rationality?
Why does she keep acknowledging the bond—only to run when I plead for more ties to keep it together? Why does her family keep emerging as a logical explanation for that, and how deep do their hooks extend into her?
What’s the explanation for the fire—literally—in her eyes?
Why does she keep hiding? What is she hiding?
It’s time to start yanking every thread I have here. Hard.
The second-floor research corner is my special hideaway in this place, rejected by most of the students because there are now brighter, newer spaces. With the opening of the new wing—which reflects Veronica Valari’s tastes in every shiny social media–ready way—I suspect that’ll be even more the case. I’m not complaining. Now I have even more space to spread out and—
“What the hell?”
My grumble has my best friend lifting his head and flashing his trademark smirk. “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” Jesse drawls. “I thought you’d be waist-deep in a stack of term project proposals by now.”
“And I thought you’d still be in coffee-and-cuddles mode with the redhead who couldn’t keep her tongue out of your ear during last night’s festivities.”
“There are advantages to sleepovers with girls, you know.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Or maybe you don’t have to?” He shoots a knowing glance at my worn-out formalwear. “Still had working eyes in my head, Professor, even with that sweet gal’s tongue knocking on my tympanum. You bugged out from the gala fast. And—surprise, surprise—Kara Valari was hot on your heels, even in those red stilts she was rocking.”
My stare narrows before I can help it. “Did you really just get scientific Latin-y on me while referencing your sexual foreplay and Kara’s shoes?”
“Few things finer than a combination of human biology and well-made stilettos, my friend.”
“I can probably think of a few.”
“Just tell me you weren’t contemplating any of them last night.” He yanks a thick book off the stack that’s piled on his side of the table, opening it to a dazzling rendering of the solar system. “Don’t let me down, man. Do not tell me you turned that woman down when she was dressed like that and had eyes only for you.”
I scrub a slow hand down my face. “All right. I’m not telling you that.”
“Thank fuck.” He dips his head and raises his brows. “So?”
I compress my lips. “It’s complicated.”
“Buddy, the stock market is complicated. Rush hour traffic on Pico? Complicated. But recognizing when a stunning woman is into you and doing something about it? Maximus Kane, that’s not complicated. That’s a blessing from the gods.”
As he finishes with a flourish worthy of some profound philosopher, I permit a smile—a small one—to spread across my lips. Kara’s taste still lingers faintly on their surface. I silently pray for the effect to be permanent.
“Well, the gods don’t have to worry about their efforts being wasted,” I finally murmur and then jab a pointed finger across the table. “But that’s all you’re getting about that. End of discussion.”
He pumps his arm like a train conductor sounding a whistle. “Well, because it bears repeating. Thank fuck.”
I won’t get a better opportunity to change the subject. I peer closer at the titles he’s pulled for his own stack of books. All of them are thicker research tomes, so valuable that they can’t be checked out of the library.
“And what’s brought you to the corner of musty and quiet today, Professor North? More importantly, did you leave any astronomy research books for the kids to access?”
“I’m on a mission.” He squares his shoulders. “A mission for some damn answers.” Then looks toward the ceiling. “Anyone listening up there? Answers, please!”
I crunch my brows. “Answers for what?”
“Explaining the star formation that Kell Valari caught on her camera the other night.” His features tighten as he pulls out an enlarged version of the image from Kell’s phone, now printed on photo paper. “I’m going to go ahead and say it. I’m past stumped about this shit.”
“Which must have you wanting to take someone’s head off.”
“Yeah. Mine.” He tosses the photo back down, and it glides a few inches along the tabletop. “But this constellation—if that’s what it is—makes no sense. Not just for the eastern sky at this time of year. For any sky, at any time of year. Damn thing is too big to be a drone, and it doesn’t fit the MO for a plane, even military grade.”
“Well, that sucks.” I don’t need Kara-like perception to feel Jesse’s vexation. Since the day he was parked permanently in that wheelchair, the guy has known his advantage in life would come from his mind. And it’s a brilliant mind. When he doesn’t know something, Jesse is unrelenting in his quest to resolve it.
“Hmm.” He grunts. “Not sure I’d say that.”
“Meaning?”
“That at this point, I almost hope I don’t find a plausible explanation for this thing.”
I narrow my gaze even tighter. “Why?”
“Because then I can pose the theory that this might be a brand-new constellation.”
I halt my finger above the touchpad on my laptop. The spreadsheet I’m working on is just a collection of blue squares right now, but I plan on filling them as quickly as I can get through each script.
“You’re serious,” I finally blurt.
Jesse nods. “Very.”
“How’s that possible?” My grasp of his special field is as truncated as his is of mine, but I know the basics. “There are eighty-eight constellations, right? That hasn’t changed in nearly a hundred years.”
“But that’s what makes science cool, my friend. Making the impossible real.” He scoops up Kell’s photo again and wiggles it in the air. “Getting to find new stars in the sky.”
I return his eager grin with an easy smile. “You’re keeping in mind the other elements in the picture, right? The neighborhoods at the base of that hill? The urban sprawl on the other side of it? What if this is just the result of some kids playing with their flashlights?”
“In the middle of a freak thunderstorm and the downpour that came with it? I doubt it.”
This is typical Jesse. Making the impossible real. His physical limitations have never stopped him from doing anything—but his favorite thing to do is to give me shit.
Like he does now, shooting a devilish smirk toward my stack of research material. “Has a certain lady in vintage red inspired you to become a classic film buff, Professor Kane?”
“Sure,” I reply good-naturedly.
He scrutinizes my pile more carefully. “Wow. Are these all originals?”
“In one way or another, yeah. Some are just cast table-reading copies, but they’re all from the same years Valari’s scripts were produced into films.”
“Wow. I didn’t even know we had them up here. Guess they’ll be moved over to the new wing soon.”
“Guess again.”
“Huh?”
“Giovani Valari is estranged from most of the clan. It’s not exactly his choice, but given the circumstances of his past…”
“Right.” Jesse jogs his chin with a contemplative hum. “‘Circumstances.’ That’s tactful at least. Just like ‘estranged.’” He doesn’t ask about Kara’s relationship with her grandfather, for which I’m thankful.
He grabs a script off the stack, opens it, and starts flipping through pages. “You know, this one looks pretty intriguing. Hell to Pay. I don’t remember the film but feel like I should. I always thought Valari was best at spy thrillers and mafia dramas, but this one has enough pathos for the art film crowd too.”
“Jesse.” I look up as I say it, though my throat caps it.
“You think the movie was just an indie release? Back in the day, independent films didn’t have the same cachet as now. And this thing was written after all the dra
ma with that starlet and her husband. Valari wasn’t such a hot property anymore. His daughter is the one who’s propelled the family name back up to—”
“Jesse.”
“What?”
“There are probably a few things you should know here.”
He turns the script over on the table as a way of saving his place. “This sounds serious.”
“Yeah.” I push my hands together as if to pray—wondering if that might not have been the best way to start the day as a whole. I rest my chin on top of my pressed fingers. “You, more than anyone else on this planet, know all about me. Right?”
A frown takes over his face. “You mean the two tons of parmesan cheese you like on your pizza? Or the fact that you save all the crusts and feed them to the neighborhood strays on your way to the gym? Or the darker stuff, like your strange obsession with Garfield memes?”
“I mean the stuff that’s a lot darker than that.” I say it fast for fear of not getting it out at all. “The reason I was able to do what I did to you. The reason why I’m able to do other…weird…things.”
He slides backward in his chair, leaving his sarcasm behind with the Hell to Pay script. “Why are you bringing this up now?”
“Because I think—I mean I’m pretty damn sure—that Kara might be like me.” I raise my hands and tunnel them into my hair. “And yeah, I know how crazy that sounds. And while it’s not completely the truth—”
“Then how much of the truth is it?”
He all but snarls the interruption. I don’t blame him. The guy will be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life because of what my abnormality made me capable of, and now I’ve dropped the bomb that I may not be the only superhuman freak in this world. Hell, in this city.
I look up. Ruefully shake my head. “She’s different, Jesse. She affects me differently. This can’t be a complete shock to you. You noticed it from the first night you saw us together. You were the one encouraging me to see where things went with her.”
“Because I thought she’d loosen you up a little, asshole. Get you out on a few real, normal dates. Walks on the beach. Miniature golf. Skydiving.”
Blood of Zeus: (Blood of Zeus: Book One) Page 15
