Read Accidentally...Over?: Accidentally Yours 5 Online

Authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Erotica, #Vampires, #Paranormal

Accidentally...Over?: Accidentally Yours 5 (10 page)

BOOK: Accidentally...Over?: Accidentally Yours 5
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It was funny—this man, or whatever he was, spoke with the naivety of child and the authority of a king. He was kind of sweet but a total a-hole at the same time. It was a strange combination. If she was, in fact, losing her mind, she had to give herself a few brownie points for originality.

She sighed.

“Perhaps,” he said, “if I were to introduce myself, you might feel more at ease.”

Oh, nice. Let’s make friends.
“Why not?”

“Excellent.” She felt the bed sink on one side. The indentation of where he sat was in the shape of an…
ass
?

“Are you really naked?” she asked.

“Yes. Did I not say that already? Are your ears not functioning properly?”

A-hole.

“But I suppose it deserves an explanation,” he added.

Sweet.

“I will start by explaining that I am a god. An ancient god. And you will do well to heed my every word.”

Huh?

“Because I have come here with the sole purpose of saving your life.”

Scary.

“What? Why?” she asked.

She heard the faint sound of whiskers being scratched.
Of course, how can he shave if he’s invisible?
she thought to herself sarcastically.

“I cannot provide many details,” he said, “because I do not have them. However, twenty years from now, you will do something very important for humanity. You will stop the end of the world if you survive, which you will. Because I am here to save you.”

Annnnd add crazy. Sweet, crazy, scary a-hole.

She closed her eyes. This was simply all too much.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Trying to fall asleep so I can wake back up,” she explained.

“Ashli. This is most serious. I assure you. Otherwise, why would I waste my time with you?”

Pompous. Add pompous.

“Oh, trust me. I’m taking this seriously,” she said.

She felt his hot breath wash over her face. The bed sank to either side of her head. Was he leaning over her?

“I do not joke, Ashli,” he censured her. His hot, sensual scent filled her nostrils. “You will cease your foolish behavior and listen carefully because there is nothing more important than saving you.”

Simultaneous explosions of heated thunderbolts and ice-cold shivers exploded over her body. She didn’t know why, but she found herself needing to touch him, to make sure he was real. It was… as if… she needed it more than the blood in her veins. She felt her heart might actually collapse if she couldn’t have proof. Proof he was really, really there.

Cautiously, she reached for him, her breath sticking in her throat. Her palms collided with hot flesh. A man’s flesh. She gasped as a jolt of unchaste neediness surged through her. She couldn’t pull back. Her hands molded to his face and began to explore. A sculpted jaw covered in
a thick, short beard; sharp cheekbones; soft, thick brows. She heard his breathing stop. Was he holding it? Did he feel the same wanton elation?
Ohmygod.
It was amazing, like nothing she’d ever experienced in her entire life.

Her hands slid just above his ears and found soft hair. She gingerly glided her fingertips down, down, down, following the silky strands until she reached their tips, lingering just above his shoulder.
Skin. Oh, God
. She wanted to touch every taut inch.

“What are you?” she whispered.

He pulled away, leaving her grasping nothing but air.

She blinked and snapped out of her trance. Had it been an illusion?
No. Please, no.
She just might die if she discovered that pool of lifesaving water was a mirage.

“Don’t go,” she begged. She never begged anyone for anything.

“I am here.” His voice sounded irritated, shaken.

“Please, tell me. What are you?”

Máax stood with his back pressed to the wall and stared down at Ashli, her hands extended in midair as if beckoning him to return.

What happened? He didn’t know, but now he was in a state of what he believed humans referred to as WTFH. Because he knew damned well that LOVE was just an acronym for “loss of valuable energy,” and love was exactly what he’d felt. Or was it merely his mate’s bond drawing him in, the Universe’s masterful way of conspiring?

The moment Ashli touched him, his light erupted with rapturous energy that spiraled and twisted, coalescing
into a single strand of light. He wanted to envelop himself in it and drink from it. Then the strand sieved through his skin, into his veins, and tangled itself around his heart like a boa constrictor capturing its prey. The cord began to elongate, stretching through time, through this world into the next, until it reached the land of dead souls. Ashli. Ashli was there! He witnessed the strand of brilliant light tether itself to Ashli’s wrist. He began pulling, exerting every fiber of his being to extract her like a desperate man attempting to salvage his own heart from a pit of hungry vipers. Máax watched in terror as his grip faltered, and the cord slid from his blistering hands. He screamed Ashli’s name, mirroring her cries of agony as she dissolved inside a pool of vicious, hungry souls, feeding from her light.

WTFAIGTDN? What the fuck am I going to do now?

And why do I keep speaking to myself in acronyms? They are quite annoying.

Máax’s heart raced at a sickening pace, and his chest expanded with one careful breath, the kind of breath a man takes when he’s about to pray for a miracle. What had the vision meant? Yes, he understood his role was to save her, but there was something else. The Universe was trying to tell him something.

“What. Are. You?” she repeated.

He felt an unfamiliar lump of doubt in his throat. “I am your mate.”

“Sorry?” she said.

He cleared his throat. “You are my… match. My soul mate, which I already knew. But what I do not comprehend is why the Universe wants to exterminate you. And she will not quit until she has you.”

Some things in life have no explanation. This was one of them. Because when the strange male voice spoke those words, Ashli knew he’d spoken the truth. It was like drinking a glass of cold water from a mountain stream; you recognize the taste of purity, even if you’re unable to describe or articulate it. That’s how his words felt. There was simply an absence of lies or deceit. Just… truth.

“Oh, God.” She sat up slowly, rubbing her forehead. “I always knew I was different, but this is too much.”

A warm hand embraced her own and that strange current of electricity once again flowed through her body. Her eyes couldn’t help but seek him out.

“Why can’t I see you?” she said. She recalled the image of the man coming from the ocean, the outline of his flawless male body glistening in the sun. He was definitely worth seeing.

Ohmygod. The dreams!
She’d had them ever since the accident. This man in her dreams had been faceless, he’d done things to her body that left her feeling almost embarrassed but also deliciously weak and sated, and he’d pleasured her in every possible way known to man—errr, woman.

That’s him! He’s the man from my dreams!

“It is my punishment for breaking a few rules,” he explained without emotion. “My mortal shell was taken from me. But I do not want to discuss that now. I must go to see my brethren.”

What? He was leaving? “You can’t go.”

That warm hand, gentle but rough, trailed across her cheek. “I will return as quickly as I can.”

“Why do you have to leave?”

“Because the Universe is waiting for any opportunity to take you. I must find out why.”

She watched the door open.

“Wait!” But he was already gone. She felt his absence in the air.

She shook her head—
ow, ow, ow
—unable to process the barrage of emotions barreling over her. He was real. He wasn’t Death, but an invisible god. He was her soul mate. The Universe wanted to kill her.

This can’t be happening. I need meds.
“Dr. Ruiz?”

Eight

Like a drippy old faucet, an anxious voice inside Máax’s head commenced nagging the moment he walked out of that hospital. “Go back. Go back to her,” it said. And while the sensible part of his mind understood this to be the effect of their bond—a bond he was still determined to forget once this mission concluded—his body did not seem to give a rat’s ass and protested violently. Leaving her felt like having his atoms busted apart with a crowbar. Not only that, but traveling to a time where Ashli no longer existed felt like traveling to hell. In the future, she was still dead. He had not saved her yet.

Thanks for the reminder, asshole.

Yes, he’d prevented her from dying this time. But what about the next? And the next? That was the conundrum. When he’d originally agreed to this whole thing, he’d assumed that saving Ashli from death was a onetime deal. Humans die all the time in accidents—cars, drowning,
falling off a cliff when searching for a secret stash of rare Miss Piggy Pez dispensers.

That was actually Cimil who fell off the cliff.

Right.

Point was, he’d believed, erroneously, that saving Ashli was simply a question of inserting himself at the right place at the right time. Afterward, she’d be free to live a full, healthy, happy existence. Now, after the vision, he understood this was not the case. Death would come for her again and again. But why would the Universe want such a thing?

It can’t fucking have her.
Especially if she was the key to stopping his brethren from going to war with each other. But he still couldn’t figure out how. That was the kicker. By now, he would’ve expected to see some clue as to why this was her destiny.

He rubbed his brow.
So what’s the plan, Máax?

You must go to Cimil and force her to tell you what she knows. She is hiding something.
The vision had something to do with the realm of the dead, and that was Cimil’s turf.

But what leverage could he employ?
You’ll think of something. Or perhaps you should try to think like Cimil. What would she do?

She would find your weakness, the thing you desire most, and then make you hop through flame-engulfed hoops until you lost your mind and all sense of hope. Then she’d torture you some more, talk to a bug or two, go shopping for useless used human merchandise, and then you’d get your prize.

Hell. I don’t have time for that crap.
He’d opt for threatening her.

Planting his bare feet firmly in the sand, he stood over
the buried tablet, focused his thoughts, and watched a small pit the size of a manhole open in the sand. The portal.

Not wanting to walk in on Cimil and Roberto mid-coitus, lest he be forced to remove his own eyeballs, he aimed his arrival a few moments ahead. He stepped inside the portal, successfully landing in the same conference room he’d departed from twenty years into the future. He approached the heavy metal door and cracked it open, listening for any signs of lovemaking. Or in Cimil’s case, noises resembling animal fornication.

To his delight, prison riot–like shouting greeted his ears instead. Not to his delight, the foundation began to shimmy and creak all around him.

BOOK: Accidentally...Over?: Accidentally Yours 5
5.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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