Maximum Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 3 (6 page)

The air crackled between them, loaded with sexual tension so thick it could be cut with one of their steak knives. She wasn’t certain how long they stared at each other before Max broke eye contact. He dropped his silverware onto his plate and cleared his throat. “Well, these dishes aren’t going to wash themselves.”

He stood and she gaped at him mutely. How the hell could he casually go from rocking Kasbahs to dirty plates? A possibility occurred to her. One that left her feeling even more like a pathetic moron. Maybe she was the only one who’d truly been affected by their conversation. Max was only being a nice, generous host, and here she was, misreading things and thinking he was sexually attracted to her.

She’d never been the type of woman to instill lustful cravings in a man. And yummy, too-gorgeous-for-words Max? He was so far out of her league it was ridiculous.

Sighing, she started to gather the plates.

“I’ll take care of everything. Why don’t you go rest for a while? Boone will take a chunk out of my hide if you have a relapse or something.”

“But I want to—” She broke off, a yawn sneaking out. Max’s eyebrows lifted, and she exhaled in weary defeat. “Fine, I’ll rest. But I’m not going to like it.”

His mouth twitched. “You can take the bed.”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“On the floor.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not going to—”

“Willa.” An unmistakable warning underscored his tone. “Don’t make me toss you over my shoulder and throw you on that bed.”

She shivered. It probably wasn’t normal to be turned on by his threat.
Definitely pathetic
. Deliberately adopting a mulish slant to her chin, she stalked down the hallway. Setting her glasses on the nightstand, she crawled on the bed, intending to do nothing more than shut her eyes for a bit. Even before her head fully hit the pillow, a snore floated past her lips.

Max stared dumbly at the growing mountain of suds in the sink. He gripped the edge of the basin, willing away the persistent throbbing in his cock.
Jesus
. He should be awarded with a damn sainthood for not climbing on the bed with Willa and licking every inch of her like she was his dessert.

The image fostered by that provocative thought tormented his already stiff-as-a-board erection. He slumped his shoulders and groaned, pouring every ounce of his bottled frustration into the gesture. The damnable part of it all was he suspected Willa wanted him just as bad. But he also knew she was in a vulnerable position. She’d nearly lost her life today, and that was bound to mess with a person’s head. If anything happened between them, he wanted to be absolutely certain it was for the right reason, and not because she looked at him as her savior and therefore deserved a thank-you fuck.

No matter how sizzling hot that fuck would be.

There was no question in his mind that a night spent indulging his wildest fantasies with Willa would be off the charts. He loved the hell out of sex. Loved all of the tactile sensations. Skin gliding on skin. The contrast between the softness of a woman’s breasts and the firmer, pebbled tips of her nipples. He loved the texture of both beneath his fingers, against his tongue. But most of all, he adored savoring the wet silkiness of a woman’s pussy as he went down on her. He could easily spend hours doing that for Willa, if she let him.

“Shit.” He gritted the word through his teeth. These kinds of thoughts were doing nothing to cool him down, damn it. Plunging his hands into the soapy water, he ruthlessly scrubbed the plates and utensils until they gleamed before setting them on the rack to drip dry. That chore completed, he walked down the hall toward his office. The bedroom was dark and the faint sound of light snores carried to his ears, making him grin. For someone who’d carried on like a cranky five-year-old refusing to go to sleep, she sure as hell fell into snooze land fast.

He sat at his desk and powered on his computer. He’d put off logging in some reports earlier in the week. Might as well get the damn things done with. But halfway through pulling up the file folder, his mind became distracted by thoughts of Willa. Not exactly any surprise there. Only this time, he couldn’t shake the question of why the leviathan had snatched her. Granted, maybe the beast had just been in it for sport, or an easy kill.

But that was the thing. He’d run into the leviathan miles away from the creatures’ preferred territory. Something had lured the beast close to shore.

Willa?

The possibility stirred an uneasy brew in his gut. Why would the leviathan have wanted her?

His finger stopped hovering over the mouse, and he clicked off his current program and opened the file labeled “unknown attacks” instead. These were the unsolved cases, where the perpetrator of the crime was yet to be determined or brought to trial. He spent a good forty-five minutes scanning the entries, looking for evidence that might hint at a leviathan being responsible for the acts. A few cold cases presented possible leads, but each of those were at least two decades old.

Sinking back in his chair, he rubbed his brow. Boone was right about one thing. He despised unfilled blanks. More and more, it looked like he’d never know why the leviathan had chosen Willa for its victim. Not unless he tracked the son of a bitch down and threatened to beat it within an inch of its life.

Sounded like an excellent plan.

One that’d have to wait for another day. Gusting a heavy breath, he powered off the computer and stood, stretching. A series of pops cracked in his tensed joints. Grimacing, he abandoned the office and strode into the bedroom. A beam of milky moonlight pooled along the bed, illuminating the gentle curve of Willa’s shoulder and the slope of her breasts. The shirt had bunched tight beneath her, showcasing her hard little nipples. White-hot desire kicked him square in the groin.

Jesus
. What was it about her that made him revert to a fifteen-year-old with a constant boner? There was no question she was cute and sexy as hell, but he wasn’t one to suffer irrational lust like this.

Corking his frustrated groan, he strode to the bathroom and shut the door. At first he had no intention beyond brushing his teeth, but the residual salty grit clinging to him convinced him that a good scrub down was also in order. Much as he loved the ocean, his human skin tended to get itchy real fast. He shoved the vinyl curtain aside and dialed on the shower before stripping off his sweats and jumping beneath the spray. Water pummeled his exhausted muscles, ripping a moan of pleasure from his chest.

Hot steam enveloped him in a caressing cloud. Even on a normal day, when he didn’t have a luscious woman lying in his bed, he tended to get aroused by extreme heat—a condition inherent to his species. Knowing Willa rested on the other side of the door, her silky skin warming his sheets, only intensified his ardor.

Before he could halt it, the image of her nipples sprang into his mind. His cock swelled and he fisted the base of his shaft, a mental picture of sliding its length between her breasts slamming into him. Planting his other fist on the wet tile, he pumped his cock, his hips rocking into the motion. In his fantasy, Willa’s tongue flicked teasingly at the crown, stringing out his torture, before letting him slide free.

He closed his eyes, the vivid scene in his head better than any XXX porno in existence. A niggle of guilt told him he’d regret this later, since he’d never be able to look her in the face in the morning without recalling the dirty things he’d had her do in his mind.

It’d be a punishment he’d have to take, because nothing could preempt the release knocking on his door. Firming his grip, he jacked himself with increasingly faster strokes, until his balls drew up almost painfully tight. A warning wave hit him and he jerked, his cock pulsing. Pounding water muffled his broken groan. By the time the last thick spurt of his come washed down the drain, he felt more wrung out than a shop rag. Staggering backwards, he slumped against the shower wall.

Holy hell. If just jacking off to the fantasy of Willa sent his brain in to orbit, what would—?

He nixed the thought before it could form any further. The last thing he needed was to get turned on again. Doubtful he’d be able to survive another solo session like that last one, he cranked the water off and stepped from the shower stall. Once toweled dry, he tugged on his sweats and killed the light so as not to disturb Willa. A heated, citrus-scented billow of steam followed him into the bedroom. He glanced toward the bed, a part of him relieved to note that she’d rolled onto her side, allowing him nothing more than a glimpse of her calves.

Damn. Even those were sexy. Shaking his head at his utter patheticness, he walked to the closet and grabbed a spare pillow and blanket from the upper shelf. He tossed his makeshift bed onto the carpet and stretched out. Stacking his arms beneath his head, he stared at the ceiling. If anyone would’ve suggested he’d end his evening on the floor while a woman who fired every single one of his cylinders slept less than five feet away, he would have called them crazy. But as his cock stirred with renewed life, it became too obvious he was the one suffering a major shortage of sanity—for not spooning up to Willa’s sweet curves and connecting the freckles dotted across her collarbone with his tongue.

Clenching his jaw, he yanked the pillow over his head, blocking out the ceiling. And the temptation of Willa.

Chapter Five

A sparkling blue pool shimmered in front of Willa. She stared at the man ascending from its depths, gleaming rivulets of water streaming down his muscular flanks.

If this is a dream or hallucination, please, goddess, don’t wake me up.

The man glanced over his shoulder at her, and she realized it was Max. His come-hither smile was an invitation to pure sin. She gulped.

“Join me, Willa. You don’t have to be afraid.”

She inched forward, her focus dropping to the eddying pool of water. Trepidation sluiced inside her veins. She couldn’t go in there. If she did…bad things would happen.

“No, you’re safe.” Max coaxed her closer. “I’ll protect you. Always.”

His sincerity beckoned, as did the wicked promise of his delectable body. He was the sole possessor of precisely what she needed. She had no idea how she knew that, but the truth of it rang loud and clear. Max reached for her, and she stepped into his embrace. The water’s satin glide stroked her flesh, sending a splinter of alarm through her.

“I’m here.” Max’s lips brushed hers in a soft caress, the thickness of his erection bumping into her stomach.

Oh yes. He was definitely
there
. All ten inches of him.

Clearly her inner slut was a size whore to notice such things.

His tongue delved inside her mouth, teasing hers into lush play. A breathless whimper escaped her. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to a flat rock jutting from the center of the pool. With gentle reverence, he settled her onto its slick surface and climbed over her, kissing her again. Eyes drifting shut, she lost herself to the sensuality overtaking her. “Max…”

A horrible screech filled the air and she snapped her eyes open. Max was gone.

He’d left her. Left her to drown. Panicked, she scrambled to the middle of the rock. Shaking with fear, she cowered in the face of the relentless waves foaming around her, surging ever closer to the protective stone ledge. The terrible shrieking recommenced. Convinced her brain would explode from the unbearable noise, she clamped her hands over her ears. A female figure rose above the surf, her long, silvery-blonde hair whipping frantically in the brewing tempest. Cold dark eyes flashed with hatred. “
You will all die. Every last one of you.
”

Behind the spectral vision, a terrifying wall of water crested into a towering peak. Its roar deafening, the tidal wave swelled, crashing into the rock.

Willa jerked into a sitting position, the frightening nightmare slowly dissolving. She stared into the darkness shrouding the bedroom, her heart galloping out of control. What the hell was that? Fingers trembling, she pushed aside a damp lock of hair sticking to her cheek.

It wasn’t the first time she’d experienced these dreams that felt all too real. But this one had seemed even more…vivid than the others.

She scooched back onto the mattress and curled onto her side. Hugging the pillow to her chest, she sucked in a series of deep, calming breaths, attempting to get her pulse under control. She hated this part of her strange episodes—the jagged-edged panic that clawed at her insides like a beast determined to escape.

“You don’t have to be afraid.” The sultry voice sprang into Willa’s head, making her jolt.

She knew that voice. Though she’d never actually heard it use audible words, it’d called to her countless times in the past week, usually moments before she blacked out.

Panting in frantic desperation, she buried her head in the pillow. A distinctly feminine laugh floated inside her mind. Willa gnashed her teeth.
Freaking great, the damn voice thinks my psychosis is hilarious.

“He can help you.” The pronouncement came with a seductive ripple of heat. “He possesses what you truly need.”

“Who?” The question popped from Willa before she could smother it, and she growled. She was already a walking candidate for a padded cell. Talking to the voices in her head would only guarantee her lifetime residency.

“You already know the answer.”

Almost as if it’d been choreographed, a rumbling snore broke from Max. A responding surge of moisture dampened the crotch of her panties. Damn it. Wasn’t being nuttier than a Snickers bar enough to deal with? Was it really necessary to heap being weirdly aroused by snores on top of it?

The voice chuckled, and Willa mentally gave it the bird.

“Go to him.”

“Shut up,” Willa whispered fiercely. “I’m not listening to you anymore.”

“Oh, yes you are.”

She opened her mouth to tell the taunting voice to go find another head to harass just as an overpowering wave of lust flooded her. Gasping, she clenched her thighs together, but that only seemed to intensify the sensation. She writhed, even the slide of her skin against the sheets an agonizing torment.