Selena's Men (4 page)

The contact information Selena Ramos had put on the contract was permanently imbedded in his memory. He tapped his fingers on the desk. To call or not to call? Why was he questioning himself?

Before he could change his mind he punched the numbers into his cell. The phone rang several times, making him think he was going to get voice mail.

“Hi, this is Selena.”

“Miss Ramos?”

“Y–Yes. Who’s this?”

“This is Max King. I just wanted to let you know I just faxed the contracts back to my brother, Malcolm King, and wanted to personally say thank you for your business. I do believe you are now the proud owner of a prime piece of real estate in Kansas City, Missouri.”

“That’s great.”

There was an unmistakable sadness clouding her voice. “Is everything all right?”

“I’m sorry…yes, everything is fine.”

Max ignored one of his golden rules and tried to focus on her memories. It was harder to tap into the thoughts of people he’d never met, but not something he wasn’t capable of.

The image of a double funeral with many attendees and a sense of heartache flashed into his mind. She’d obviously lost both her parents in a tragic accident. From what he could see of the season surrounding the proceedings it wasn’t recent, which to humans didn’t ease the heartache.

“Let me know if you need anything else. My office is always open to preferred customers, and you, Miss Ramos, have moved into that category.”

“That’s really sweet of you. Thank you.”

Before he broke another rule and flashed to her side, he pulled out of her memories.

“You have my number. If you need anything, anything at all, please call me or my brother at any time.” Why he felt it imperative to make sure she knew to call him, he had no clue.
Shit!
He needed to find a woman and get laid. “Talk to you soon.”

“Selena. Call me Selena.”

“Until next time, Selena mine.” Max hung up before she could respond.

The clubs below were beginning to fill up. He could have his pick of women, so why did he get hard for a dream girl and his heart ache for a woman who he’d never met?

As he did every day and night he sent a tendril of energy out to search for the lost goddess. And just like every day and night for the past twenty-four years, he came up blank. Nothing. Surely if she were dead Zeus would’ve paid him or one of the other Ravens a visit and let them know?

A disturbing notion pushed its way into his brain. Had the child been found and all this time he and his brothers had been looking for nothing? Worrying for nothing? Tossed away like they were nothing?

He misted to the lower level of his building, outside one of the busier bars filled with the rowdier crowds. The thousand-dollar suit became a pair of low-slung jeans and fitted t-shirt. Although he towered over ninety-eight percent or more of the crowd, he tried to blend in.

Several heads turned in his direction. Most of the young men froze in place, while the women seemed to come alive. It was always the same, and now he was beginning to sound like his brother Mal.

At least he knew the bartender, liked him, and respected him even though the man seemed a bit scared. “Hey Alan, can I get a Makers on the rocks?”

Alan smiled, more at ease. “Sure, coming right up. We got a great band tonight. You staying for the show?”

“Maybe.” He took the short, squat glass, downing the whiskey in one gulp. “Can I get another?”

“Rough day?” Alan asked, taking the glass and refilling.

“Nah, just long.” He smiled, hoping to look less harsh.

It obviously worked. The smaller man rested his elbows on the bar and nodded toward the stage, at ease for the first time since Max had met him over a year ago.

A woman with grace and agility, and what men would call sex on legs, moved up to a microphone located center stage. Her voice was a deep, raspy sound that made you think of doing dirty, naked things with her. But she did nothing for Max.

Not wanting to seem rude, he stayed for another twenty minutes listening to the woman sing, watching her graceful movements as she walked across the stage in a black corset and baggy, black pants. Gothic gorgeous is what he’d call her. The men and women alike lined the front of the stage, many of whom were clearly aroused by her. Not Max.
Shit!

Alan kept his glass full, stopping to chat every now and then. Max made an effort to appear less threatening to those around him.

Without being obvious, he blurred the perceptions of Alan and the other patrons as he made his leave. The tip he left would make up for any discomfort he might’ve felt.

She stood facing them with her hands at her sides in tight little fists. The usually calm air that Olympus sported was suddenly engulfed with winds that buffeted their bodies. Max refused to allow her to slip away from him, them, again.

He closed the distance between them, fusing his mouth over what he decided was the most perfect pair of lips he’d ever tasted. His brother moved in to nuzzle her neck, wisps of her long silvery hair tickling his nose. He broke away to inhale her unique scent that reminded him of honey and strawberries.

Warmth, unlike anything he’d ever known, radiated from the alluring creature. His brother claimed the mouth that he’d just feasted on. He stepped around the kissing pair, molded his front to her back. A feminine gasp made him smile.

Her ass was high and round, fitting into his hands perfectly. It was by far the sweetest ass he’d ever seen or felt.

Over her shoulder he watched Malcolm bend to engulf one of the erect buds of her nipples through the transparent gown. Her hips swiveled against Max’s groin. He groaned at the strength she displayed when she reached up and pulled his head down to hers. Her body stretched between their much larger ones had his overprotective instinct to keep her safe burning in Max’s gut. He sent a burst of energy outside his body, searching through the mist and fog surrounding them for danger. A sense of peace settled over him when he encountered nothing but the three of them.

He traced her swollen lips with his tongue, dipped inside for more of the sweet taste of strawberry honey. The soft moans were music to his ears.

Malcolm stood up and pulled on the ties that held the gown together, letting it float to the ground.

With a growl, Max turned her in his embrace. His hands roamed down her back and framed her ass before tracing the crack all the way to the heart of her and back.

Fuck, she was so wet. He brought his fingers up to his mouth.

Though he didn’t think he was worthy, he needed this woman with every fiber of his being. His twin and he were so completely in tune with each other that words weren’t needed. He released their lady long enough to wave his hand through the air. A bed large enough for three appeared alongside them. Their clothes disappeared without conscious thought.

Her eyes, which he could see were an amazing shade of silver, widened. She licked those delectable lips that drove Max to distraction, then with cat-like grace turned and crawled onto the bed.

The bed dipped as Malcolm climbed on one side while Max went to the other.

Mist and fog began to roll in, nearly suffocating Max with the thickness. He reached for his woman.

Max bolted upright in bed. The dream seemed so real he could smell the scent of strawberries, could still taste the lingering hint of honey on his tongue.

“Malcolm. You up?”

“I am now. Please tell me you didn’t just dream about our dream girl again?”

Son of a bitch.
Max swung his legs off the side of the bed. With his head in his hands, he closed his eyes.

“Dude, I was this close to…Yeah, as far as wet dreams go. That was a good one. But fuck, I’m hard as steel and no woman will do.”
Max could picture his twin’s scowl. The love ’em and leave ’em wasn’t working out too well right now. At any other time it would’ve amused Max, except when he was in the same position.

“I know. I tried, and like a dumbass I thought I’d get drunk. Get laid. And all would be well. And what do I have to show for my efforts other than a minor headache?”
Max looked at his still-hard dick and grimaced. He couldn’t even get semi-hard watching half-naked women, but give him an imaginary one and just like that he was ready.

“I’m thinking you’ve got the same problem as me, bro. So my question is what are we going to do?”

That was the problem. Max, the leader of the Ravens, had no clue. For thousands of years he’d led his band of soldiers, first on Mount Olympus, then through countless battles here on Earth. Until they’d finally decided to split up and find their own way.

Of course, beings created by the gods who were immortal but not gods, but not humans, didn’t really belong anywhere except together. If Max hadn’t had his twin he didn’t know what he would’ve done. All the Ravens paired up in one way or another, although if they ever needed each other they were only a thought away.

But with this he didn’t feel comfortable calling out to any of his brothers other than Mal, who shared the dreams with him. If only they knew who the woman was.

“Max?”

“Yeah, I was just thinking.”

“Don’t do that too hard,”
Malcolm joked.

“I honestly have no clue. I’m…We’re flying blind here, Mal. I’ve called out to Zeus and the other gods. Hell, I’ve even called out to the goddesses who birthed us.”

He echoed his brother’s snort. To call the goddess who agreed to carry them for nine months a mother was a joke. No. They weren’t what anyone would call normal by human standards or even god standards. The Ravens were full grown adults within their first year, but they still had hearts that beat. They still had feelings.

To be thrown into training with soldiers who were hundreds, if not thousands, of years old seemed normal to them at the time. But looking back with the knowledge they had now? Max shook his head. They had been disposable then, just as they were disposable now.

“Let me guess. O Great One didn’t answer any of your calls. But I bet you still expended energy today looking for his lost little brat right?”

“Mal, if he’s right, and the goddess isn’t found, Earth has a ticking time bomb that is less than a year away. Who’s to say we will survive if she explodes?”

A tired sigh stretched out. “
Would it be so bad to finally meet the All Creator?”

Max didn’t have an answer to that. No. He had an answer, but to voice it out loud felt like he was betraying someone. “
I don’t know, Mal, I just…”
He trailed off. His twin knew without words what Max felt.

“I’m going to be out of the country on an extended trip, if you need me you know how to reach me, bro.”

“Of course. I think I’ll take a little trip and do a little radio silence myself. If you need me…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Take care, Malcolm.”

“You too, Max.”

* * * *

“No, no, no…” Selena groaned.
“Why can’t I have normal wet dreams where I get to the happy ending like normal people?” she asked the ceiling.

The cloying mist that wrapped around her reminded her of the dreams she’d had when she was a child. Her parents had spent thousands of dollars on therapists who all said it was a manifestation of her biggest fears. Hello, who wouldn’t be scared of being dumped in a garbage can and left for dead as a baby?

But that was not why she was scared of…fog or mist, or whatever the hell was in her dreams. She wanted to get it on with one or both of her dream men, dang it.

The loss of her parents when she was twenty-one was devastating, but wasn’t such a stabbing pain to the heart whenever she thought of them. When they’d been in their mid-fifties, taking on an infant must’ve been a difficult task, but they’d been the best parents a child could ask for. At seventy-eight and seventy-nine they were still too young to die, but they had lived a long and happy life and she was grateful for all the time they had had together.

They’d taught her to never take anything for granted. Her mother was always saying, “
Lena, mia bambina, you must not dwell on the past for it is gone and can’t be changed, nor look to the future for it is yet to be decided. But do you know why they call right now the present? Because it is a gift and should be treated as such.”

She would then nod her head and go back to baking, or whatever thing she happened to be doing at the time.

With that last memory in mind and a smile on her face, Selena got out of bed with a lighter heart. Her parents would always be with her in spirit, but they’d want her to live life to the fullest.

Now she had to talk Tamara into stopping by Malcolm’s office in California while she was out there doing whatever the heck she was out there doing. Sometimes the Mejias could be downright spooky with their voodoo, seer abilities. Selena snorted at that.

“Who am I to call others weird?” she asked the empty room.

While she waited for Tamara to answer her cell phone she made her way to the kitchen. After filling her coffee cup she took it out onto the back patio to enjoy the early morning quietness.