Maxon (21 page)

“So what's your plan now?”

“Honestly, I don't know. I need a few days to get my head together. Come up with a new approach.”

I raise my arms and stretch. “You can crash here if you like.”

“Sure, thanks.” She stares at my chest and looks away, her skin flaring a brighter shade of blue. I try not to notice that reaction. We're supposed to be just friends, after all. Still, I notice it anyway. And I can't stop myself from talking about it.

“You don't have to get embarrassed for checking me out.”

“What?” She lights up even more.

“We're adults. We're single. There's no law against appreciating each other. In fact, the Furor have it down to a science.” I pull back the covers on my bed.

Her mouth thins with disbelief. “Like what kind of science?”

Oh, this is too good to pass up.

I step over to stand in front of her. Her body heat warms my bare skin. She gives me another of her little gasps as I run my fingertip down her neck. I pause and pull my hand away.

Do the right thing here, Maxon.

Somehow, I find the balls to cross the room and go back to my bed.

“You didn't come here to talk about Furor lore.” I slide into bed and fidget with the covers, like I give a crap about that stuff. It's easier than looking at her, though. “What's up?”

“I don't like sleeping in strange places.” Lianna forces a smile. “I don't like sleeping, period.”

“Your nightmares?”

She nods.

“I get it. Believe me.”

“Good.” Lianna anxiously twists her fingers together at her waist. “Then can I, uh, stay here? Last time, it really helped to have you nearby.”

My heart starts thumping against my chest.
Love this idea.
That's when I notice how other parts of my anatomy are excited, too. Good thing I've got the covers pulled up past my waist.

Play it cool, Maxon. Remember why you put the brakes on this in the first place. Taking things too far will only hurt her.

“Sure.” I slide across the bed and pat the space beside me. She slips in under the covers and cuddles into my side. With her wound against me, my senses are assaulted with sweetness. I love how her long limbs entwine with mine. The way her liquid-soft fingers rest on my belly. How every cell in my body is attuned to her, wanting her. And if I'm being honest with myself, caring about her, too.

I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “Better?”

She sighs. “Yes, much.”

“Any time.”

Lianna's quiet for a minute. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” I twirl a lock of her silky hair around my fingertip. “Ask me anything.”

She inhales a deep breath. “What else happens in your nightmares? You said it was dark…” She swallows the rest of her words.

Normally, any mention of my time with Armageddon makes me crazy, but while holding Lianna? It's impossible to feel anything other than calm.

“You don't have to tell me,” adds Lianna quickly.

“No, it's cool. Armageddon's what happened.”

“The King of Hell?”

“Yeah.”

She looks at me expectantly. Now, I'm getting to another part I've never shared with anyone. When I was a kid, I said I couldn't remember anything about my time in Hell. That was a lie. I've never told a soul, yet somehow, it's okay to tell Lianna. She's been at the mercy of evil, too. She'll understand instead of getting her mind blown.

I run my thumb up and down her shoulder. “My nanny Hildy was a monopsyche.”

“I've heard about those. She could take over your mind, put you in a trance or whatever?”

“Yeah, it's a bodyguard technique. Protected me from pain or torture.” A cold shiver rocks my spine. “But when I was taken into Hell, Hildy wasn't fully bonded to me. She couldn't protect me all the time. Every minute that I was exposed and unconnected, Armageddon knew it. That's when he'd pull me out of my prison box.”

Lianna keeps looking at me. There's empathy there, sure, but something else, too. A connection. Suddenly, it's not a choice to tell her everything, it's something I
have
to do.

“Armageddon tortured me.” My voice cracks with remembered pain. “Peeled off my skin. Plucked out my eyes. Beat me until I passed out.” Emotion tightens up my chest. “I was a fucking three-year-old kid.”

She rubs my stomach in a gentle rhythm. “Oh, Maxon.”

“Afterward, he'd always fix me up and put me back in my prison box. The freak knew that my parents could see me sometimes, and he thought that hiding my torture was hilarious. Even for the King of Hell, the guy was a sick fuck.”

I pull her closer. “After I left Hell, I promised myself that I'd never be at the mercy of a demon again. Now, I hunt Class A jobs like Armageddon. That's my life.” I exhale a long breath. “Not much of an existence compared to some. Like I said, I'm broken.”

There's a long pause before Lianna speaks again. “I understand, Maxon. Really.” She's talking about more than the story. She means about us. I hoped she'd get what happened to me without losing her mind, but understanding why we need to stay friends? That seems like way too much to expect.

Can this really be happening?

“Understand what?” I ask, unsure.

“Why you're trying to protect me.” She gently kisses my shoulder. “And maybe, you're trying to protect yourself, too. It's all right. I'm not going anywhere, Maxon. Whatever happens, I am your friend.”

My torso warms with a feeling I'm terrified to name. She heard my story. She gets me. How unbelievable is that? It takes some effort, but I choke out three words.

“Only you, beautiful.”

And that's what makes staying away from her so hard.

She gives my shoulder another kiss. “Better?”

I kiss the top of her head. “Yeah, better.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, that might actually be true.

Lianna

Sure enough, sharing Maxon's bed means no nightmares.

Trouble is, it means no sleep, either.

I flip over again. Nervous energy pulses through my limbs. This is like sitting next to a chocolate cake when you haven't had dessert in ages. Hard to keep your hands to yourself.

I keep watching Maxon sleep, making note of every movement. Hey, it passes the time. I can't miss how Maxon's face looks handsome-rugged, even when he's asleep. How he arches his muscled arm above his head. How he slowly licks his full lips. Yow, I felt that last one right between my thighs.

Maybe this wasn't my best idea.

Turning flat on my back, I jam my pillow over my face. In this position, I'll either die of suffocation or fall asleep without any distractions. Either way, the sexual torture will be over. The rational part of my brain points out that actually leaving the bed would be the best solution to my problem, but rational me isn't getting lots of airplay at this point. I'm staying right where I am.

Actually, I'm pretty impressed that I was able to get the pillow over my face at all.

I inhale deeply and immediately, my huge error is clear. The pillow smells like a whole lot of Maxon. It's a mix of cinnamon, sweat, and yum. This is definitely not helping my focus issues. I pull down the pillow to find Maxon leaning over me, an amused smile rounding his delicious mouth.

“Hey,” he says.

“Oh, hi,” I reply, like I'm surprised to find us both in the same bed together. “You were snoozing for a while there. I thought you only slept an hour a night.”

“Normally, yeah.” Maxon stretches again; this time both arms are involved in the act. His muscles are so ripped, they have little baby muscles, too. I really need to stop staring one of these days.

“Running after you must tire me out,” he says. His mismatched irises glimmer in the soft glow of candlelight. “Any nightmares?”

“No, you?”

“Me neither. Seems like you're good for me.”

A bubble of excitement forms in my chest. “Same here.”

“In that case, there's something I want to talk about.” Maxon sets his hand on my hip, and I already like where this conversation's going.

“Sure.”

“I won't sugar coat this. I'm broken, maybe in ways that can never be fixed. For years, my life's been nothing but demon slaying and one-night stands. That scare you?”

“It's nothing I didn't know about before. Guess the question is, does it scare you?”

“Maybe it worries me now, yeah.” Maxon leans in until our foreheads touch. His skin feels warm and firm against mine. My breath hitches as his voice sounds low in my ear. “You're perfect, Lianna. Absolutely beautiful. And I want something to happen between us.”

My excitement bubble explodes, sending tendrils of heat through my body.

Maxon thinks I'm perfect.

“I've been thinking about it a lot.” Maxon's fingers tighten on my hip. “Maybe you want that, too.”

I almost give myself whiplash nodding.
Yes.

“Well, then.” He tilts his head back and offers me a sexy smile. “I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try. How about you?”

I'm pretty sure what he wants to try here. However, my mind's a pile of overjoyed goo at this point. I need to make sure that I'm absolutely clear. If we're just sleeping together, I can't do that. I'm not the casual sex type. But if it's something more? That's another story.

When my gooey brain finally remembers how to speak, my words come out low and breathy. “Try what, Maxon?”

“Why, making you happy, beautiful.” He rubs the bridge of his nose along mine. “Only you. Give me that chance, yeah?”

My mind empties of all thought, save one. “Yeah."

Maxon's lips crash onto mine. Desire flares through me and a small moan escapes my mouth.

“Damn,” groans Maxon. “Your little noises drive me crazy.”

I moan again and suddenly, Maxon's hands are everywhere. Taking off my tank. Sliding my boy shorts down my legs. All the while, his tongue rides against my own, fierce and rough. Desire spikes between my thighs. Maxon whips the covers off us. Somewhere along the line, he kicked off his pajama pants. Shock and desire roll through me. I've never seen Maxon entirely naked before, and every last inch of him is gorgeous. In the dim light, he soaks in the sight of my bare body, too. Bands of desire wind about us, connecting us.

“Is this…” I want to ask if this intensity is from his lust demon. I can't get the words out.

“Is this what?” Maxon leans over me, his fingertips brushing up my outer thigh. Heat rushes through my limbs. The ability to form words fails me for a while.

“The Furor,” I whisper. “Different.” Part of me realizes I'm talking in sentence fragments. More of me is amazed that I'm able to speak at all.

“The Furor see lust as a science.” Maxon's voice comes out low, growly, and sexy. “They taught me how to focus my inner demons. Lust and wrath, I integrate both of them into my soul. Control their power. Make their experience more intense for my partner.” Maxon nuzzles into my neck. “Your body is a map to your pleasure, Lianna. It starts with tracking your heartbeat. The dilation of your irises. How flushes move across your skin.” His tongue flicks across my earlobe and I shudder. “You like it when I talk.”

I nod quickly.
Yes, yes, yes.

His fingers slide down my belly, circle across my hip and glide between my thighs. I gasp. He touches my heat and I'm seeing stars.

“So responsive,” he says in his low voice.

I can only moan in reply.

He smiles that sexy grin of his. “And we haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet.”

The good stuff. That's where I want to be.

I guide Maxon closer until his body rests atop mine, his strong arms braced on either side of my head. He slides inside me and I gasp. Time stands still as our bodies move and ecstasy mounts.

We kiss. We touch. We become one person.

Sensations multiply until it's all too much. Bliss builds through me and then shatters my soul. I arch my back as the delicious release careens through my every molecule. Maxon groans as he finds his satisfaction along with mine. Our unified motion slows, then stops. Time moves forward once again.

“Wow,” I say, my voice low and husky.

A satisfied smile rounds Maxon's mouth. “Yeah.”

Someone starts knocking on the front door of Maxon's chambers. Tilting his head, Maxon carefully listens to the odd rhythm of the knock. More thrax codes, if I had to guess.

He kisses my cheek. “I'll be right back.”

Maxon slips out of bed and immediately, I miss the sensation of his body next to mine. Maxon pulls on a long silk robe and walks out the door. From the entry hallway, I hear low voices talking back and forth. Maxon returns a few minutes later.

“G wants me over to have breakfast.”

I prop my weight on my elbow and try to look alert. “At this time of night?”

“It's early morning now.” He offers me one of his crooked grins. “I'd say no, but she'd just come here.” He scans me carefully. “Want to go?”

I want to say ‘Sure, I'll go,' but my face muscles are so tired, it comes out as “Sue, ruff roh.”

Maxon chuckles. “You get some sleep, yeah?”

I want to hit him with a cute comeback. Doesn't happen. For some reason, my mouth isn't capable of speech. Even so, the moment is perfect and peaceful. I don't know what our future holds, but like Maxon said, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try. I mumble something else that's totally incoherent and Maxon kisses my head.

The last thing I remember is the click of the door closing as I fall asleep.

Maxon

I walk up to the fancy wooden doors to G's formal reception chamber. A knight stands on either side of the entrance. Both wear golden armor. Before I have a chance to greet them or even knock, the door swings open.