Accidentally...Over?: Accidentally Yours 5 (18 page)

Yet he wanted her. Truly wanted her. He’d even said she was his. And he’d godsdamned meant it!

Sonofabitch! It’s like the damned thing just snuck up and bit me on the ass.
He was screwed! And hell, he didn’t even care!

He wandered into her living room and sat down, placing his face in his palms. His cock hurt like a
spurius
, and his balls ached like a godsdamned charley horse. Shouldn’t deities be immune to this kind of torturous mortal bull crap?

He groaned and leaned back into the couch.

Get a hold of yourself and think with your head.

No, asshole, the other head.

His mind reeled.

All right.

He would simply apologize for his professional indiscretion and explain how it was the bond’s fault. He would explain the unfeasibility of a future as a couple and that she’d simply need to trust him about that. In addition, they simply couldn’t afford any diversions from the task at hand. Yes, she’d understand. Ashli was mate to the God of Truth and handled truth quite well.

She is so wonderful.

Gaaarrr… Cease your incessant mooning over her!

His massive hard-on wasn’t improving matters.

Yes, but the last time he’d left her alone to, um, do his business, she’d died.

Perhaps I will simply check on her first.
He walked to her room and knocked on the door. “Are you all right?”

“Go away! I need to be alone!” Ashli screamed.

“Are you certain you will not leave your room or play with anything sharp?”

“Go. Away!”

Yes. She was certain.

He sighed and wandered to the bathroom. Thankfully, Ashli had a large assortment of scented lotions that smelled like her—sweet, lavender, woman. He’d be set in
a matter of minutes. He need only think of her hot, sensual body pressing against his, begging him for pleasure.

“Yep. That’ll do it.”

Two minutes later, Máax had taken the opportunity to indulge in a ten-second shower and clean up while Ashli cooled off in her bedroom. With a clear head—yes, yes, he meant that both ways; he was a completely randy bastard—he was ready to continue the conversation and get things back on track.

“Ashli, we must speak.” He knocked lightly on her bedroom door, but heard no reply.

He knocked again. Nothing.

He opened the door and found an empty room. “Oh, hell.” A feeling of dread slammed into him. If anything happened to her because he’d once again…
Oh, gods
… He’d never forgiv—

The faint sound of his men screaming grabbed his attention.

Sanctis infernus.
He bolted through Ashli’s house, to her back door, and out to the beach.

His pulse froze for several horror-filled moments. His men dragged her lifeless body from the waves.

No. No. No.
He ran to Ashli as fast as his legs could carry him, shoving the men aside when he reached her. He dropped to his knees and then pulled her into his lap, clearing away the dark, wet hair from her face. Her blue, blue face.

“No!” he wailed.

He placed her flat on her back, partially aware that his men watched as he began administering CPR. “No!” He pushed air from his lungs into hers and watched her chest rise and retreat. He gave her heart several pumps and
then blew into her lungs once again. “Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.”

Why had she gone swimming? Alone! Why? Oh, gods, this was all his fault.

He placed his ear above her heart. She now wore a red one-piece, and he wondered how she’d snuck past anyone in such a brightly colored suit. He’d kill them all. Each and every man there who’d been given the task of seeing after her safety.

“Sir?” Brutus, who’d been at the café earlier and the leader of this particular Uchben crew, grabbed Máax’s shoulder. “She’s gone.”

Máax dropped his head. He knew Brutus spoke the truth, and in that moment, Máax felt something snap. Fucking snap. The molecules of his light reverberated from the force. It was as if every inch of his being rejected the Universe. He felt repulsed by it, angered by it, embittered by it. This was not a world he wanted to serve or be a part of if Ashli were not a part of it, too. The pain was simply too much.

And just like that, the bonds of the Universe, everything shackling him to an eternity of servitude vanished. Only his connection to Ashli remained. Oh yes. Now he saw everything with such vivid clarity. Ashli had become just as much a part of him as his own heart. No longer was there a separation between their souls.
But then…

“She can’t be dead. Not again.” Yes, Máax could go back in time again and start over, but what difference would it make? He couldn’t protect her! He’d failed.

“I-I will keep trying,” Brutus said remorsefully.

Máax slowly stood, feeling the weight of his sorrow dragging his transparent bones down to hell. He staggered
toward her house, holding back a scream so full of despair that it would be felt around the world.

Why couldn’t he save her? Why couldn’t he keep her alive? It didn’t matter what he did, did it? The Universe—Death—was determined to have its way. But why? What had he done to deserve this torment? What had
she
done?

He realized that he would do anything to keep from losing her, to keep her from dying, to keep her safe.

Anything?

Yes, fucking anything.

The unexpected sound of hacking stopped him in his tracks.

He didn’t dare breathe or make a single sound, fearing he’d miss the repetition of what he thought he’d heard. He clenched his lids tightly and tilted his head toward the sky.
Please, please, please, let that be what I think it is.

He turned, feeling the world move in slow motion, counting to three before he opened his eyes.

Máax dropped to his knees at the sight of Ashli coughing violently.

The air whooshed from his lungs, and he dropped his head into his hands.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

After stripping Ashli of her wet bathing suit and fighting every urge in his male body to touch her, Máax tucked Ashli into her bed and quietly left the room. He’d never felt so full of hope, so in control of his destiny, and so uneasy. Ashli’s death had somehow severed his bonds with the Universe, thereby allowing his soul to completely bond with hers. Now he didn’t know where he began and where she ended. They were one.

But what did it all mean? And what next? Practically speaking, the situation was not resolved. Ashli was still at risk, which meant the clock continued to tick.

But she is alive.

He smiled to himself and walked to the kitchen. When she awoke, he’d have everything ready for her. Soup, fresh-squeezed juice, flowers, a platinum Visa. He’d indulge her every whim with the exception of solid food, especially bananas. Or a game of tag with a bus. Or a swim in the ocean. Or a beehive. Other than those, however, he’d spoil her rotten, and he’d figure this out. All of it. What mattered was that she lived.

Máax entered the kitchen to find Brutus sitting at Ashli’s small table, sipping a cup of tea. Máax was about to speak and thank Brutus for what he’d done, but didn’t get the chance.

Brutus spoke, his eyes fixed on his mug. “This is bigger than you and I. You know that, don’t you?”

“If you’re speaking of saving Ashli, of course I know that; she’s everything.”

“Good. I’m glad you see that. Because you can’t have her,” Brutus said coldly, not bothering to look up from his cup.

Máax halted in his tracks. “What?”

Brutus’s eyes zeroed right in on Máax. “You heard me. You can’t have her. She is far too good for you and far too important to the rest of us.”

“Not sure I follow.”

Brutus stood from the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Like most Uchben soldiers, Brutus wore the standard black tee, cargo pants, and boots. His dark hair was short in a military crew cut but Máax knew Brutus’s
clean-cut exterior was nothing but an illusion. On the inside, the man was like all Uchben—human volcanoes, waiting to erupt and let loose an explosion of deadly force. A razor-thin membrane of control was all that separated men like Brutus from killing, destroying, serving justice. Controlled chaos.

That didn’t mean that Máax was afraid or gave a shit what the man said. Ashli was his and no one would ever challenge that.

But is she really yours? Are you now saying you will keep her?

I don’t fucking know.
The only thing he knew in this moment was that he was grateful as hell she was still alive and that her death had drastically changed something deep within him. He simply needed a little time to figure things out.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Brutus stepped around the table, growling, his eyes drilling into Máax’s… well, his shoulder.

Brutus narrowed his eyes. “I saved her life, and I’m prepared to continue doing so because that’s what the world needs.”

Máax chuckled. Had Brutus swallowed too much ocean water saving Ashli? “Are you insinuating that I do not want to save her?”

“You can’t stay here in this time. We all know the rules of time travel, and one of you exists already.”

This was true. The Máax belonging to this particular moment in time was currently trapped inside a cenote, but he would not be freed for another nineteen years or so. Plenty of time to figure something out. However, there were also future versions of himself scheduled to show up
in just a few days. He’d simply need to be careful. Post a few signs for himself outside of Ashli’s home and café.

“This is not your concern,” Máax said.

Brutus glared. “You plan to take her forward with you?”

“I cannot do that. Cimil believes that Ashli must stay here in order for her destiny to be fulfilled and halt the apocalypse.” Wait a second. Máax did not answer to this soldier, nor was he required to tell him the truth.

“So you will leave,” Brutus argued. “And when you do, how do you plan to keep her safe?”

“Why do you assume I am leaving?”

Brutus stepped forward, visibly about to explode. Crazy man. What did he think he could do to Máax? Kill him? “I want to protect her.”

Well, so did he. He simply had no clue how he might accomplish it. And what the hell had gotten into Brutus?

“Get in line.” Máax bellied up to the crazy man who was only a few inches shy of Máax’s height.

“Afraid of a little challenge?” Brutus asked.

“I’m a deity. I fear nothing. Not even nudity.”

“Then let the woman decide who she chooses to be her guardian.” Brutus smiled coldly.

“She will never choose an overgrown monkey over a god.”

Brutus lunged.

Thirteen

Ashli woke to a head filled with shards of glass and to the sounds of male voices grunting and growling.

Slowly, she sat up in bed. “Christ. What happened?”

She vaguely recalled feeling like her body had been on fire, her emotions completely getting the best of her. She’d wanted Máax. So much so that she’d almost had sex with him up against her kitchen wall. It was quite the shock when he told her they weren’t compatible. She’d flown off the handle. Why? She didn’t know exactly. Perhaps her deprived body simply needed to blow off steam after receiving the oh-so-disappointing news. Or perhaps it was something else. Maybe her desire for him had been on a much, much deeper level. Máax was the first “person” she’d allowed herself to connect with since her parents’ deaths. After being alone for so very long, being with him felt like a vitamin for her malnourished soul. Everything about him felt so inspiriting and so right. She imagined
the two of them lying on the beach, laughing and kissing. She saw herself waking up to him twenty years from now. Not the invisible Máax, but the one she saw in her head: thick waves of caramel-brown hair streaked with gold and auburn, a delicious growth of dark stubble, and those perfect lips. She saw his golden-brown skin and hard, rippling muscles. Yes, she saw every detail of this man. And she
sensed
—there was no other word for it—what their lives together would be like. That sensation of bliss, being in love, feeling whole and grateful for every moment. The luckiest woman on the planet. Within the space of a few heartbeats, she saw and felt it all, only to see it evaporate like a phantasm.