Accidentally...Over?: Accidentally Yours 5 (15 page)

“Very well. But if you are going to give mine a name, it should be a shlong-a-saurus or a dong-zilla, not
man-dee-bar
.”

The men began to roar.

She gasped with disbelief. “Wha—Ohmygod.” He was so full of himself. “I’m sure your ka-junk-a-junk is more like a gherkin-saurus or willy-pop.”

More roaring from the front seat.

“Really now?” he replied, then grabbed her hand, slapped it right over his groin.

“Jesus.” She snapped her hand back from the colossal, dormant anaconda between his legs. “You didn’t have to go there.”

“Oh, but I did,” he said smugly. “When it comes to such important matters, I want there being no doubt in your mind of my superiority.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “All eleven inches of it.”

“Eleven inches?” she whispered. She had to admit, that
was impressive. Not that she’d let him know it. Or know about the mental image that suddenly popped in her mind of them lying naked in bed together, him slowly sliding himself between her legs.

Away, lusty thoughts! Away!

“Too bad,” she said in a shaky voice filled with false conviction, “you’re creepy and invisible. Must be frustrating when women scream and run the other way.”

The men stopped laughing, and there was a long silence.

“You, Ashli, are the only woman I’ve ever chased or had any interest in chasing,” he said in a very cold tone.

Why had he said that? Did he really mean it? She was the only one?

She suddenly felt twisted inside. Like she was somehow special.

Wait! He completely treated you like dirt. Now he’s flattering you a little, and you’re ready to jump on him?

“Well,” she said, “too bad then that you’ll never catch me; I happen to run very fast. And for the record, though I don’t date, I’m pretty sure I’d stay away from any guy who thinks I’m inferior to a pile of poop.”

Máax went silent again for several moments. “Yes. Well, that was uncalled for, and I’m sorry for saying it. But I assure you, it was only an attempt on my part to convince myself to stop…” His voice trailed off.

“Stop what?”

“Wanting something I cannot catch,” he replied.

Ashli’s thoughts spun in dizzying, pathetic circles while the black SUV charged down the highway toward the
Cancún airport. She couldn’t deny Máax’s words left her feeling more confused than ever. She didn’t want to like him, but she couldn’t help herself; there was simply something about him she found irresistible—besides that body. And that smell. And his voice. Ugh! He was downright magnetic.

How can this be happening?
How could she have such strong emotions for a bossy, strange, nonhuman male she’d just met?

Odd, to say the least. Especially when one took into consideration that she was an emotional iceberg—cold, hard, and drifting at sea all alone.

Okay, now you’re being a bit dramatic.
Yeah, she was. Truthfully, though, she found it extremely difficult to feel attached to anyone or anything besides her memories after losing her parents. Even now, as she sat calmly in the truck gazing out the window at the thick, green foliage of the jungle, a tiny emotional tug-of-war had broken out inside her heart. She didn’t want to leave her home. It felt like being torn away from her parents all over again. God, what she wouldn’t do to see them just one last time. Perhaps if she’d had the chance to say good-bye she would’ve let go by now.

She sighed and then glanced in Máax’s direction. What she wouldn’t give to see his face. What emotions were in his eyes? Indifference? Concern? Lust?

Affection.
That was the emotion radiating from the mysterious man to her side. But she couldn’t actually feel his emotions, could she?

She focused on the sensation once again. Yes, something was definitely there. She could almost touch it.

Fascinating.
The man was like a supernatural force, pulling her in, taking over her mind. Maybe that’s how
they’d gone from loathing each other to irritated to… well, she didn’t know what state they were in now, but it wasn’t loathing. It was somewhere in between irritated and wanting. Getting on a plane with him and going away together suddenly sounded pleasant.

Whoa. Am I really leaving?
The anxiety returned.
And I’m getting on a plane?

“Máax?” She turned her head toward him, wishing she could see him. Was he looking at her? Out the window? At the road? Would she ever get used to being with someone invisible?

His hand slipped onto her leg and rested there. “Yes?”

She couldn’t help but notice its warmth and how it instantly sent sensual tingles through her body.
Don’t help the noticing! Send the noticing away!

Righto.

“If Death is hunting me, why are we getting on a plane?” she asked.

“It is currently the fastest mode of transportation,” he replied frankly. Then he mumbled something that sounded like “no alliance with vampires in 1993.”

“Sorry?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“But haven’t you seen any of those movies?” Because she had. She’d seen the ones where monsters wing surfed and ate the plane’s engines. She’d also seen the ones where the systems failed for no apparent reason.

“No. I do not watch movies,” Máax replied. “I find real life to be excitement enough; however, I believe our flight on the Sukhoi Su-80 will be free of any drama or movie grade action. It is the world’s safest turboprop, and furthermore, Death is not after the
other
passengers.”

“You’re looking right at me, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

God, this not being able to see him thing was getting on her nerves. “So you’re trying to say that he only wants me?”

“Death is an it, a cosmic force, a part of the Universe’s never-ending quest to seek balance, not a he. But yes.
It
only wants you.”

Yaaay. Thanks for the clarification.
“Explain to me again why you think leaving would stop it.”

He patted her leg. “I do not believe it will stop until it finds another way to restore balance. Such is the way of the Universe. But as I already mentioned, my brother’s home is near a rather large encampment of Uchben, our human allies. I will have much better luck keeping you safe if I have unlimited support. In addition, staying here only increases the odds that I might overlap with myself, something that must be avoided. I prefer not to take the risk. But I assure you, you are safer on that plane than in your own—”

A loud beep sounded, and the man in the passenger seat dug a flip phone from his blazer. “Yeah?” He listened. “I see. Thank you.” He closed the phone. “Sir, we have a problem,” he said without turning around.

“What?” Máax said.

“Sir, the plane has blown up. We can call for another, but I know you wanted that specific model, and the nearest one is parked in Italy.”

“Stercore equum.”
Máax blew out a long breath. “What happened?”

“Was anyone hurt?” Ashli asked. “And did you just swear in Latin again, Máax?”

“We don’t know, sir,” the driver replied to Máax. “But the pilots were having lunch. No one was hurt.”

“Maledicta in deos!”
he snarled.

“Stop with the Latin! Okay?” She gripped the seat with her hands. “This is really starting to freak me out. The death thing, not the Latin. The Latin’s just really weird. Not helping.”

She felt his warm, strong hand cover hers, triggering a delicious shiver. An urge to bury her face in his chest and close her eyes enveloped her, but she resisted.

“Do not be alarmed, Ashli,” Máax said. “I am a deity. We are accustomed to such unfortunate turns of events.”

“Which means?”

“Timothy? Take us to the cabin.”

The driver nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Cabin?” Ashli asked.

“There is a small house two hours north of here. It is a remote location, and I’ve only learned of it today. There is no chance of a future version of me randomly showing up, and you will be safer than at your—”

A loud crack came from the engine, followed by smoke spewing from underneath the hood. “
Cruentum stupri gehenna.
What next?” Máax grumbled.

More wizard talk? Ugh!

“Sir, the engine is overheating. We’re only five minutes outside of town. I’m sure we can turn around and make it back.”

She couldn’t see Máax, but she imagined him making little circles over his temples.

“See?” she said. “This was exactly my point. If what you say about Death hunting me is true, I can’t hide. And if I’m going to die, I want to be in my home, in my café,
surrounded by memories of the people I love. Oh. And if you swear in Latin one more time, I will scream.”

“You are a most peculiar woman.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Latin seems to have more of an impact on you than death. Exactly why is that?” he asked.

She gave it a moment of thought, but the answer wasn’t something one could answer in a ten-minute car ride. Without a therapist present. And possibly some chocolaty carbs, wine, bread, and cheese. “I’m not sure. I just know running is stupid. Won’t solve anything.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“Please?” she pleaded. This plan was silly. He had to see that. And taking her away from everything she loved was even sillier.

“I suppose,” he grumbled, “I could have the men put out signs—codes only I would understand—so if another version of me were to come upon them, I’d know to turn back.”

Ashli smiled. “By ‘code,’ you mean Latin. Don’t you?”

“What the
infernum
, woman, do you have against the mother tongue of all romance languages?”

“Really? Are you that old, you don’t know?”

“Fine. It’s antiquated. I will grant you that. As for your request to return home, because of the severity of the situation, I will only agree on one condition.”

“Yes?” she asked.

“You must obey me. Without question.”

That was a very tall order. “I barely know you. I’m not even sure we are really having this conversation or that you exist.”

“Timothy.”

“Sir?” said the driver.

“Am I real?” Máax asked.

“Yes, sir. Although you are technically banished, and we should not be helping you or speaking to you.”

“But I explained the calamitous gravity of situation, and because you know who I am, you are helping me regardless,” Máax pointed out.

“Yes, sir.”

“And how do you know I can be trusted?” Máax asked.

“You are the God of Truth,” the driver said.

“Ah! There you have it, Ashli. Proof that I am real and the God of Truth.”

The God of Truth? Wow. Impressive.
She happened to be a big fan of his work. Honesty was highly important. But still, the strangeness of it all was… well, strange!

She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “But I barely know you.”

“Then we will get to know each other,” Máax said before telling Timothy to turn around and drive slowly on the shoulder.

But what if she died again? Would she dream about this very moment like she dreamed about those other visits he’d made? None of which had happened yet?

Infernum,
this is so freaky. Oh, great! Now I’m speaking Latin.

“And as it just so happens,” Máax added, “I do not plan to let you out of my sight, so there will be plenty of time for talking.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “Timothy, please activate plan D.”

“Plan D?” Ashli asked. “What happened to C?”

“Plan C involved taking you to my private island in Greece. Though it is patrolled by Cimil’s unicorn and
quite safe, I doubt that we could get you there in one piece.”

Unicorn?
“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I do not kid. My first island was destroyed by my sister Cimil. This one isn’t as large as Atlantis, but it is still nice.”

Atlantis? That was real?
“I meant the unicorn, but—Wait, if Atlantis was your island, doesn’t that make you… What was that Greek god’s name? The ocean god.” Mythology was not her best subject in college. Yes, lots of cobwebs in that part of her brain.

“Like the other deities, I am known by many names depending on the culture. However, I believe you are referring to Poseidon,” he replied dryly. “But I never carried a giant fork. What preposterousness.”

Ohmygod. I am not actually having this conversation.

“It was a crude version of a surfboard,” he added. “And I didn’t carry the damned thing around like a scepter or make oceans gush from the ground with it. I rode waves with it.”

A surfing, invisible god?
“I have heard it all.”

“You have? Because I assure you, the Greeks’ version of me and my thirteen brothers and sisters holds no bearing on reality. It was far more insane. That whole naked Olympics thing: Cimil’s handiwork.”

Okaaaay.

“Cimil?” Ashli asked.

“My sister,” he explained. “However, we are not related technically. Deities do not have parents, although I do consider her my family and often wonder why. She is quite insane. Means well, but cannot help trying to blow up the planet.”