The Sorceress Screams (26 page)

My caution
remained until I reached the wooden arch where I could no longer see him. I
turned and speed-walked for the door. Once inside, I ran for the office,
dropping down into his leather chair to wait on the easing of my pounding
heart.

That had been
close. And yet, perhaps not close enough.

****

Maximo found
me in the family room fifteen minutes later. He was freshly showered with damp
locks, a casual pair of black linen pants, and a white linen top. Had I not
seen him in far less recently, I would have counted this outfit as being
revealing. He’d barely buttoned the shirt, and the pants rode low on his hips,
giving glimpses of portions of the male anatomy I rarely got to see.

He must have
sent Javier to me when he’d come inside because the vampire lackey had appeared
in the office seconds after my heart had calmed. Javier had shown me the way to
the casual family room at the other end of the large house.

Its beige
stucco walls and dark limestone floor were offset by thick wooden beams, soft
incandescent lighting, and sturdy brown leather furniture. The focal point of
the room was a
toss up
between the massive flat
screen television hung above the fireplace and the painting behind the sofa.
I’d been in one of the deep chairs staring at the latter—a composition
containing a black-clad horseman within a moonlit landscape—when Maximo had
arrived.

“I’m sorry.
Rebecca,” he said without coming any closer than the chair farthest from me.
“It wasn’t my intention to be short with you.”

During my wait
I’d worked out what had happened. He
did
want to go slowly, but it had been a little too much for us both to be by that
pool. So he’d sent me inside.

Somehow he
looked wholly innocent. “You aren’t miffed with me?”

I tilted my
head to the left and leveled a challenging look at him.

His lips
spread into a mischievous smile. “I’m not mocking you. I find your choice of
words endearing.”

“No, I’m not
miffed with you,” I said.

“Good.”

Maximo came
around the chair that had served as a barrier. He made his way over the area
rug in front of me. There he extended his hand in silent invitation.

I set mine in
his cool palm, allowing him to draw me out of the seat. Our bodies were inches
apart. The fresh lavender and warm sand scent of him chased away the lingering
chlorine. The slight curve of his lips as he gazed into my eyes was a warning
of what was about to happen.

He curled his
left arm around my waist, pulling my pelvis against his. The other hand slipped
into my hair and held me steady. But instead of immediately kissing me, Maximo
merely held me. I could do nothing but hold his intent gaze. Flecks of gold and
green in his chocolate irises were visible at this distance.

“Do you
understand yet what I want from
you.
Rebecca?”

The sensual
voice slid beneath my skin, sending shivers of heat over my arms. My heartbeat
increased. I drew in a slow, ragged breath.

I was
unwilling to answer because though I thought I knew what he wanted
now,
I didn’t know what his ultimate
goal was. A man like Maximo de Sole didn’t hold onto his rule without being
clever. He’d probably formulated a plan for how best to use me the moment he’d
set eyes on me. And he could afford to take his time enacting an elaborate
plan. He was as close to immortal as a mortal could be.

His thumb
moved over a sensitive place on the nape of my neck. A shiver shot from the
tiny spot right on down to my toes.

“You,” he
said. “I want you. I want to be inside you.”

“What will you
have to look forward to once you’ve had that?”

Maximo’s lips
spread into a wickeder version of his smile.
“Having you … in
as many places as I have access.”
He stepped a hair closer, eyes
dropping to my lips.

He would
finally kiss me now that I could barely breathe.

But … he
didn’t.

“And dancing,”
he said, words a mere breath against my mouth.

I let out a
nervous laugh. He pulled away. I wavered on my feet toward him, barely keeping
myself from falling forward. And then he headed out of the room. Cool air
replaced where he’d been, and disappointment crowded my thoughts.

Maximo talked
of wanting me, yet he’d left me without making good on the implied promise of a
kiss. He’d never done that before. What was his game?

Further
confounding me, he called back, “Dinner is served in the breakfast room.”

****

Maximo’s
breakfast room was nicer than most people’s formal dining rooms. The wooden
baker’s rack alone was wider than my last dorm room. A gleaming chestnut table
capable of holding six diners was positioned three feet from a pair of French
doors. And the polished green-gray marble floor was costly enough to be found
in a palatial retreat’s dramatic foyer. As if these details weren’t enough,
there was even room for a small sitting area between the doors that led to the
kitchen and corridor.

Two place
settings had been arranged for us. The white plates atop golden chargers were
edged in a ribbon of gold. The crest I’d seen in the pool was emblazoned in the
center of the china. I stared at the lions until Maximo set a stuffed chicken
breast atop them.

We held benign
conversation over the meal. He asked how my day had gone. The conversation took
a serious turn when he admitted he’d been briefed on the situation with
Jacqueline and
Veronika
. He also shared that he knew
the identity of the doctor responsible for the treatment’s success.

I bit back a
warning that none of them were to be harmed. It would be an insult if he’d had
no ill intent for them. And it should be obvious I cared about their safety.
Why else would I have risked mine to free them?

Maximo’s tone
was suspiciously light when he questioned me on what I’d be doing tomorrow. If
he’d been briefed on the situation with the enthralled witches, then Ali Mac
also would have told him about Desmond’s phone call. So I explained exactly
what was scheduled tomorrow.

He suggested I
take his guard with me to the airport in case Nadir sent one of
his
Were after me. I declined, citing
what I’d told Desmond about earning no respect until I stopped hiding behind
people. Though his lips were relaxed, the dark glint in his chocolate eyes
hinted his displeasure. A portion of our relationship was built upon my need
for his protection. I didn’t point out I hadn’t dumped him now that Nadir was
gone. We both knew it was the ring on his pinky that kept me from ending this.

After dinner,
Maximo returned us to the family room for a little television. Unlike me, he
had every channel known to man. And he had a library of DVDs in a hidden
walk-in closet off the family room. The man was serious about his movies.

He shook the
cover of a Western at me from his spot at the edge of the room. I shrugged
because it was his house, his rules. But when the movie bored me to tears and
all I could manage to concentrate on were the delicious waves of heat he sent
over my body with every caress, I decided I should have spoken up about my
distaste for the genre.

Maximo bravely
set his hand to my leg just below my skirt’s bubble hem. I’d freaked out the
last time he’d tried the move. Tonight I once again fought with my desire to
rip his clothes from him. I had a far better idea of exactly what was pressing
insistently against my back through the thin layer of his linen pants and my
silky skirt.

His fingertip
slid beneath the fence net thigh high’s edge. I thought I’d go out of my mind.
He groaned in my ear, sending a shot of desire straight through my core.

“So warm.
Dios
.
Your skin is soft.”

Maximo traced
his fingers around the elastic, grazing gently over my skin until he made it to
my inner thigh. I drew in a sharp gasp because he was closer than ever to the
warmest spot on me. I let my head fall fully against him because I no longer
had the strength to hold it up. Not when I was simultaneously fighting my urge
to straddle him or put an end to our foreplay.

Maximo
adjusted me so that my head rested against his shoulder. The shift brought my
pelvis closer to his. I held my breath in anticipation. One of his hands
smoothed through my hair while the other continued its caresses. Bravely he
drew his fingers beyond the thigh high. I released a quiet whimper.

He crooned
into my ear. “Let me touch you. Rebecca. I vow I’ll go no further than a
touch.” He properly read my hesitance. “My clothing will stay on and fastened.
I promise you.”

Pushing out a
ragged breath, I drew in the courage to nod for him.

“Gracias a Dios!”
He pressed a small
kiss to my temple.

Permission
granted
,
Maximo didn’t move any faster than he had
originally. I was torn between relief that he would ease me into it and the
need for him to hurry.

He brought my
temperature back up with the fingers playing along my thigh highs. “These are
sexy. Rebecca.” Squeezing my thigh he said, “Feminine, naughty, and just the
right amount of punk. They’re perfect for you.”

A desperate
laugh escaped me. He cut it short by slipping his hand further beneath my
skirt. I inhaled a sharp breath and then exhaled with a moan.

“
Sí
,” he whispered. “Make noise for me. Rebecca.”

The next noise
I made was a whimper for the fortitude not to shove my hand between us. I no
longer noticed his skin’s cool temperature against mine, too focused was I on
how he made me fraught with unfulfilled desire.

Maximo’s
fingers made it to the edge of my silky panties. My lungs halted, unsure if
he’d slip beneath or torture me from above. He chose the latter. Quietly he
cursed in Spanish when he found I was warm and moist. He teased me with a
gentle caress of his fingers over my mound, edging down to the folds only to
return up and away.

I moaned at
the pain he drew—not because he was touching me but because he
wasn’t
.
“Maximo.”

“Max.” His
teeth snapped beside my ear.

“Oh!”
Those teeth … so near my
neck.
I gasped from the
zing of adrenaline that shot through me. “Max, you’re driving me crazy.”

 
“Good.” His voice grew rich with satisfaction.
He rubbed his fingers a hint lower. “It’s only fitting because you’ve driven me
crazy for weeks.”

Days of
foreplay and minutes of steady arousal generated a wicked reaction when his
finger finally grazed over my oversensitive bud. Pure pleasure flowed through
my body in a hot wave. My back shot off of him as I hissed to the ceiling. He
laughed in a low rumble behind me even as his hands brought me back down to
endure more of his wonderful torture.

I was too
mindless to note when he’d pushed his hand beneath my panties’ lace band, but I
definitely recognized the sensation of his finger slipping into me. Max’s
temperature was noticeable now.
But not disgustingly so.
I writhed despite the curiosity of it, pleading wordlessly with punctuations of
his nickname.

His fingers
soon set a tempo of steady thrusts I met with my pelvis. And then his body joined
in. He was stiff against my back, proving he wasn’t unaffected. My whimpers
quickly mingled with his ragged groans.

Max broke into
a Spanish monologue of how he’d like to replace his fingers with himself, to
bury himself to the hilt in my warmth, and hold me against him until I fell
asleep. I clamped my lips shut to keep from giving him permission for the first
two. We were going slowly. Really, we were.

I lost track
of time and space when the orgasm hit. A wordless cry caught in my throat while
my body surely broke apart. Only his hands on me and the cool frame beneath me
kept me together. Brilliant gold filled my vision more beautiful than any
firework I might see tomorrow.

Max took the
liberty of pushing my hand between us. He formed it over his rigid organ above
his pants. Then with one guided squeeze, he let out his own wordless cry.

Seconds later
we lay slumped together, panting from our foreplay as the Western on the big
screen reached the showdown portion of the action. The last things I remembered
hearing were gunshots, horses neighing, and Max’s soft laughter.

Chapter Nineteen

Somehow I woke
in my own bed. Though I regularly slept like the dead once I fell asleep, it
was disturbing that someone had brought me all the way home without rousing me.
The untouched state of my tank top, skirt, and thigh highs was small
consolation. My
mary-janes
, however, were off my
feet.

I stretched
out my limbs, noting that I felt more relaxed than I had in a while. That was
most likely thanks to Max.

Hera, help me.
I was thinking of him differently now, wasn’t I?