Sun God Seeks...surrogate? (19 page)

Lightbulb!
“So, Cimil was using me to make a point.”

“Yes. But she failed. Because, at the end of the day, her beliefs won’t change reality,” he said.

Now I had a whole head full of flickering lightbulbs; perhaps Cimil wasn’t so crazy after all. Okay, that was a stretch; she was off her rocker. But point was, she and Kinich were clearly divided on this topic and even if Kinich wanted me, he wouldn’t back down. His ego would never let him.

Well, there is only one part of a man stronger than his ego…

His smoldering gaze didn’t waver as I leaned into him and pressed my breasts against his torso. “But what if she’s right?” I whispered. “What if
your
brother is right, too?” I planted a tiny, lingering kiss on his shoulder. “Maybe I’m the change you’ve been waiting for.”

“Gods and—and hu—humans, ” he fumbled with his words, “are not compatible.”

I brushed my lips over the swell of his smooth pectoral, just above his slightly puckered nipple. “Then why are you in love with me?”

Nick unexpectedly grabbed both my shoulders and leaned down, putting us nose to nose, our lips one inch apart.

“Who said I’m in love with you?” he snarled.

I winked. “Wisdom, baby.”

Before I could utter another word, Kinich was on me hard and fast, his lips pressed forcefully against mine, his hot, strong hands cupping both sides of my face. His tongue slipped past my teeth, and his taste ignited every R-rated dream I’d had of our mystery night together.

But unlike those dreams, I
knew
this was reality. And in this reality, I needed him. I needed to feel his skin against mine. I needed to feel him move deep inside me to release that excruciatingly delicious tension relentlessly building.

“Gods, woman, you drive me crazy,” he said with a gruff voice between breaths.

I flung my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist.

He backed me against the smooth tile wall of the pool and cupped my ass as I savaged his mouth with mine. Wisps of steam snaked from his breath as he thrust himself against my juncture with only the thin fabric of my panties and his shorts between us.

I inhaled sharply. I wanted to touch him, to feel the thickness of him in my hand. Was he as large as I dreamed?

I reached into the waist-high water between us and wrapped my fingers around the top of his hard flesh through the fabric of his wet shorts.

No. He’s larger.
I couldn’t even close my hand and it turned me on.

My mind recalled all of the things I’d dreamt of doing to that enormous part of his anatomy: laving every thick inch of him with my tongue, rubbing the velvety tip of it over my lips, and reveling in his sexually primal groans. These were things I’d never wanted with any man, any man but him.

And it shocked the heck out of me.

Not us. We like him! We like him! We like…

Oh no. The eggs were back.

Shush, you little troublemakers!

His hands slid the bra straps from my shoulders and then tugged the wet fabric down to expose my chest. With his chest rapidly rising and falling, he gaped at my breasts, pausing to cup each one and leisurely run his rough thumbs over each hardened nipple.

A rumbling groan escaped his lips, and I sucked in a breath when the sensation of his fiery touch released waves of warmth between my legs.

Did he truly believe we weren’t meant to do
this
? Because it felt pretty damn perfect to me; his hot wet skin against mine; his luscious mouth moving frantically down my neck; the heat of his tongue massaging my aching nipple; and the unbearably hot tension building deep inside.

Crazy, gorgeous man
…

Suddenly, I was unsure if the water was boiling or preventing me from burning up, but every part of my body felt like it was on fire.

Nick suddenly pulled away. “Penelope, I must—”

“No”—I planted frantic kisses over his mouth and continued massaging his deliciously large erection—“don’t you dare stop.”

He kissed me for a moment longer, thrusting himself against me. “I must go”—he gave me another long, wet kiss—“get the necklace”—he kissed me again—“or we cannot…”

Oh, the necklace.

Then a stupid question popped into my mind. “Are you sure about this?” It was a stupid question because my fingers were wrapped tightly around the evidence of his resolve. But nevertheless, a tiny voice in the back of my mind reminded me how he’d just boldly declared that “we” would never happen.

To be clear, I’d just realized how badly I wanted “we” to happen.

He froze and stared deeply into my eyes. “I can think of nothing but bedding you,” he whispered.

Works for me
. “Hurry. Get the necklace.”

Nick was about to lift himself from the pool when I grabbed his arm. “Wait. Five more seconds.”

He sank back into the water and hurriedly complied with another hard kiss. His stubble rasped the fragile skin around my lips.

Once again, I wrapped my arms around his neck. It was getting unbearably hot, but I couldn’t stop. Not even if my life depended on it, which I’m pretty sure it did because he abruptly pushed me away.

“I’m about to lose control of my energy, and I do not want to cook you.” He flashed a glance toward the sliding glass door across the patio leading to his room. “It’s right there next to my bed.”

Oh. So that’s what Sun God keeps in his nightstand.

“Okay. Okay, just hurry. Before…” I panted.

“Before?”

“Before I spontaneously orgasm from wanting you so badly.”

The look in his eyes went from raw lust, to savage hunger to…

Huh?

His face turned bright red, flames licked from his eye sockets.

I winced as his heat singed the drops of water from my wet skin.

Holy crap! What’s happening?

He clenched his eyes shut and groaned in agony.

I wanted to reach for him, to help him, but his skin glowed like a smoldering campfire.

Then…I glanced up.

Standing above him at the edge of the pool was a Maaskab. Its eyes were blood-red pools with dark, empty holes in the center. His long black ropes of hair were caked with a brownish red paste—
Holy shit! Are those teeth hanging from the ends of those nappy dreads?
His body was smeared with black soot, and his loincloth was made of some sort of animal hide—
Holy shit! Is that human skin?
I didn’t know of many animals that had heart-shaped tattoos with the word
Bob
in the middle.

Then the smell hit me. Eau de festering wound mixed with portapotty.

I pointed and screamed at the top of my lungs.

The Maaskab raised his arms and tossed a black jar in the water. And at that exact moment, time moved in slow motion.

Nick’s eyes, glowing and red, locked on my face while his hand reached behind and latched onto the Maaskab’s ankle. “In halach puczical, in uchucil, ca kaxah yokolcab ichi pixan,” Nick whispered.

It felt like I’d been struck by a bolt of lightning. Then, I saw him. Kinich. Not the image perceived with my eyes, but his essence, his light. It branded itself on my very soul.

Before I knew it, the Maaskab’s body turned to ash and landed in a pile on the ground. Kinich slumped over in the water.

“Oh my God! Kinich? Kinich!” I pulled his face from the water and slapped his pale cheeks. He didn’t respond. “Help!” I screamed.

I hooked him under the arms and maneuvered his large body over to the pool’s steps. I heaved and pulled and blubbered hysterically, but none of that—especially the blubbering—made a difference; he was so damned heavy, all I could do was inch him halfway out of the water.

“Did ya actually have tae go and break the man, lass?”

A rather tall, burly man with long, red hair, and wearing a kilt, stared down with amusement.

I didn’t know who he was, but he wasn’t a Maaskab, and that was good enough for me.

“Oh my God. Help! I think he’s dead!”

He gave a hearty chuckle. “Oh now, lass, they cannae die. Those immortal buggers are like roaches—cannot get rid ’o them. And believe me, I’ve tried.”

“No! I’m serious. One of those Maaskab just showed up and threw something in the water.”

The man squinted at the bobbing black jar. “Ah. So he has.” He scratched his chin. “Well now, not to worry; we’ll get him out ’o there and he’ll be like new.”

The man latched onto Kinich’s wrist and plucked him from the water like a wet noodle.

When I pulled myself out, I noticed my skin was covered with tiny blisters.

“Looks like ya got a little sun-god-burn, there. Did ya, lass?” He chuckled again.

I’d worry about the burn later, but why was this crazy Scotsman so damned happy?

I kneeled beside Kinich, who now appeared even paler. “He’s not waking up.”

“Hmm. ’Tis a bit odd.” He kneeled over and slapped Kinich’s face. “Wake up you ol’ bastard.”

“Hey, do you mind? Name-calling isn’t going to help.” I winced. My skin was scalding hot.

“I’ll take him tae his room and call the doctor. Looks like you’ll be needin’ his help, too, lass. That’s some sunburn ya got there.”

CHAPTER 21

Almost thirty hours after the incident with the Maaskab, I was having an epic breakdown. Kinich still lay in his bed, limp, pale, and lifeless.

The Uchben doctor, a youngish looking man with brown hair and glasses, had made at least a dozen visits, each time taking blood samples, listening to Kinich’s heart and lungs, offering zero-useful information other than Kinich was still alive.

Regardless, I couldn’t help but hold my breath and dig my nails into my palms as the doctor examined Kinich for the thirteenth time.

“And if he dies?” I asked.

The doctor made a nondescript gesture with his hands. “His light would be sent to a cenote, and he’d get a new body.”

Kinich had mentioned the cenotes—ancient Mayan pools the gods used as portals between worlds—but I wasn’t aware they could simply check in and get a new set of human wheels every time they crashed the car, so to speak.

The doctor gathered up his vials of blood and instruments. “Ms. Trudeau, a word of advice, if I may?”

How did he know I so badly needed some? Was it the terror plastered on my crispy red face?

“You need to heal. Perhaps you might benefit from a few hours of relaxation.” His eyes glanced at the wall of running water that separated the bedroom from the bath. And yes, it was a bathroom fit for a god: twice the size of the one attached to my room with a private meditation suite.

Sure. Just what I need. A bubble bath. Then, maybe after, I’ll write some colorful poetry about a fluffy cloud and go frolicking gayly in the meadow with the baby animals. Happy fucking times!

Was I the only person taking this situation seriously? Something was very, very wrong with Kinich, and I knew it in the pit of my stomach.

I turned to the crazy Scot who I learned was Gabrán, the highest-ranking Uchben chief and a very close friend to Kinich and his brother Guy. He’d explained that they’d encountered these black jade jars once before—the Maaskab had used them to hex the gods’ cenotes—but once the jars were removed from the pools, everything, including any trapped gods, returned to normal, for the most part.

So this situation was clearly different. Wasn’t it time to panic? Panic sounded reasonable and appropriate.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” I asked.

“We wait,” Gabrán responded. “Wait and pray.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing.” And it had been about as useful as a bacon breath mint.

Gabrán scratched his head. “Whatcha be needing, lass, is tae follow the good doctor’s advice and rest.”

I sighed. He was right; I was a mess. My skin, though beginning to heal, had burns and blisters on every square inch. I resembled a charred tomato. Whatever had happened to Kinich—
Hey, you’re calling him Kinich now. What does that mean?
—I was certain I’d come within an inch of being cooked alive.

But that was on the outside. On the inside, well, I was already toast. Viktor had been gone more than a day, and though Kinich promised to give him two days before telling anyone, I felt the burning need to say something. What if Kinich’s state was somehow connected to all this? But if I told Gabrán, would that derail Viktor’s chances of rescuing my mother?

Pacing alongside Kinich’s seemingly lifeless body, I agonized over what to do.

What would
he
want me to do?

I fell to my knees beside the bed for the twentieth time. “Kinich, oh God. Please wake up. Please.” I brushed his forehead, planting gentle coaxing kisses on his pale, stubble-covered cheeks. And when that didn’t work, I reverted to shaking him. “Please, Kinich. Wake up. I don’t know what to do. You have to wake up…” I choked. “I’m sorry I said you were a coward. And a man-whore. And a god-slut. And an arrogant, man-tard. Okay—I never said that last one to your face, but I said it! And I’m sorry! I’ll do anything if you wake up. I’ll even admit you were right about us not having a chance—even though you’re wrong—because it’s completely stupid to think you’re never meant to love—idiot! How can you believe that? Really? But I’ll say it. I will! And if you want, I’ll leave you alone forever. Just…just come back. Tell me what to do,” I blubbered shamelessly.

“Oh, lass.”

I looked up to find Gabrán staring at me with his large, green eyes—a trait many seemed to have in these parts.

“I thought you left.” I plunked my head down on Kinich’s chest, fisting the white T-shirt he now wore.

“With all the caterwauling, I was certain the Scabs had returned. Or a rabid coyote had gotten intae the room.” He shook his head. “Your tears won’t be savin’ him, ya know.”

I grabbed a wad of tissues from the box on the nightstand and wiped my nose. “I don’t understand why he won’t wake up.”

Gabrán shook his head. “Nor do we, lass. Tis perplexing tae say the least. But ya must not give up hope.”