Experiment in Terror 05 On Demon Wings (19 page)

Or maybe I don’t watch enough
, I thought.
They could

teach me a thing or two.

He looked up at the clock on the wal and from the

hesitant vibe that was rol ing off of him, I knew he was

thinking about leaving. I couldn’t let him, though. Not after

last night. Not after today.

“Can you stay over here? With me?” I asked, conscious

of my parents being in the next room over.

He gave me a smal smile and I knew it wasn’t going to

be good news. Goddamn it, what happened to the

Maximus who asked me out on dates and was always

flirting with me?

“I don’t have any of my belongings on me.”

I nodded and looked down at the greasy lemon chicken.

“But you could come over to my place. If you’d like. I’d

like you to.”

I brought my head up sharply and ignored the vice-like

feel in my head. “You mean it?”

Why didn’t I just add
Gee, golly
at the end of it? But

despite sounding like a fawning idiot, the fact that I didn’t

have to stay in my house was like music to my ears.

He nodded quickly and smiled wide. “Of course I mean

it, Perry. I’d love it. I just have a one bedroom, though, but I

can take the couch. It’s super comfy and light as a good

beignet.”

I didn’t know what that meant but I gave him a grateful

smile and got up to get my stuff together and escape the

confines of my house of horror.

Maximus lived in a smal apartment in a sleek tower of new

apartment buildings by the freeway. The sound of cars

zipping past on the I-5 was as comforting as a warm bath;

how could anything go wrong when the comings and goings

of civilization were just outside the door?

“This is pretty nice,” I said, putting my duffle bag down on

the ground and taking off my shoes.

He shrugged. “You reckon? I don’t know. Where’s the

character?”

He walked into the middle of the room and looked at the

wal s, which were white and barren. His head twitched with

disgust.

“I wasn’t sure how Iong I’d be here for, so I took a place

with a month-to-month lease. Otherwise I would have

scooped up one of the older brick beauties. Something

with heritage. History. Oregon has nothing on Louisiana.

Everything is so…new.”

“Wel , tel that to the ghosts in the Benson hotel,” I said,

remembering the old building with its sordid history and

hauntings.

“Darling, if you think something a hundred years old is

old
, you’ve got something coming to you.”

I stacked my boots in the corner and put my hands on my

hips playful y.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He grinned. “I’d say it involves beer. Do you want one?”

“I’l have several.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and I fol owed him. Like

the rest of the apartment it was cramped, but it stil looked

snazzy and streamlined. Maybe that’s why I liked the

apartment; there didn’t seem to be any history here to haunt

me.

As he fished a six-pack of Blue Moon out of the fridge I

asked him, “So do you know yet if you’re going to be

staying here? You know, for good?”

He straightened up and slammed the side of the bottle

top against the edge of the counter. The cap flew off and

landed in the sink with a rattling noise. He looked down at

the counter and at the smal impression the force had left in

the cheap material. He ran his fingers over the damage

approvingly.

“There. Now it has more character.”

He handed me my beer, slammed open another beer

and raised his bottle to mine.

“To Portland then,” he said.

“To answering my question,” I replied, keeping my bottle

close.

He took a quick sip of the beer and sighed. He ran a

hand through his hair, being extra careful not to mess up the

slight pompadour at the top, and walked into the living

room, plopping his big frame down on the “beignet-soft”

couch.

I leaned against the kitchen wal and stared at him,

waiting.

“Wel , Perry,” he said slowly. “I’m not sure how long I wil

stay here. If I’m going to start doing other stuff for Jimmy,

then being in Seattle might be the best option.”

It was a shame that the word
Seattle
now brought about

involuntary flinching from me.

He looked up at me hopeful y. “But if you agree to doing

the show, then I’d be more than happy to put down some

roots here.”

I let out a smal sigh and looked down at the zesty

bubbles in the beer. “So, real y, I’m what’s keeping you

here?”

Maximus didn’t say anything, just gave me a quick smile

and took another large gulp of beer. But I knew it was the

truth and it made me feel unbelievably pressured. And
so

not worth it.

“So what do you say, darlin’?”

“Do you real y think I could give you an honest answer

about the show right now? I mean, considering I’m actual y

being haunted myself.”

“Actual y….” He trailed off and turned his attention to the

window where the lights of the city glowed outside.

“What?” I asked, and came closer to him. I stopped in

front of the couch, forcing him to turn his attention back to

me. “
What
?”

“Don’t you reckon this is the perfect time to be filming al

of this?”

I laughed, angrily and to myself. “Are you serious?”

“Wel , yes, Perry. There is obviously something funny

going on. Why shouldn’t this be on the show? It would be

bril iant. We can stil get to the bottom of things; we’l just

have it al on camera. It might even help your case if

things…er…escalate.”

My mouth was hanging open slightly so I snapped it shut,

feeling bitter venom coursing through my veins. “You are

unbelievable, you know that?”

He looked shocked. “What did I say?”

“You are just like
him
,” I spat out, and it looked like I just

slapped him in the face. “Both of you are exactly the same.

Both of you don’t give a shit what happens to me; you just

want to use me for your own profits. You should be

ashamed of yourself. I thought you were different!”

I placed my ful beer down on the coffee table and took

off for the door. I was insulted and furious and so close to

putting a fist through his wal . That would give his stupid

apartment some character, wouldn’t it?

He got up and in a few strides of his long legs he was

down on his knees in front of me, grasping both of my arms

in his hands.

“I’m sorry, please don’t go,” he said.

“Oh, save it,” I said, trying to remove myself from his

grasp. I’d heard that before.

“I’m serious,” he said in his steady drawl. “I was being an

idiot. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how insensitive I was. You’re

absolutely right, Perry. I guess I just thought you were used

to it.”

“You never get used to it,” I said quietly, and was

surprised to find my vision blurring, tears wel ing up quickly

in my eyes.

“Oh, Perry,” he said, and stood up. He brought me into

his chest and wrapped his arms around me. I stood stiff

and stil until I relented and the tears spil ed out of me. I

didn’t even know why I was crying. I was mad and frustrated

more than anything else. Angry at the world, angry at

Maximus and angry at Dex. Most of al , I felt angry at Dex.

Without him, none of this would have happened and I could

have been living a remotely normal life. I had demons in my

past and skeletons in my closet and he had to come along

and dredge everything up and let them loose to play.

At that moment, as I sniffled my nose on Maximus’s

warm, green plaid shirt, I couldn’t have hated Dex more.

And that’s when it happened. The hot lava that swirled

inside of me concentrated deep in my bel y, lighting up my

bottom half. My head swam against my myriad emotions

and as if the air pressure in the room changed, Maximus

noticed it too. He pul ed back slightly and I stared up at him,

at his ful lips, scattering of freckles and green, green eyes.

Then he kissed me.

And as before, I kissed him back but with a feverish

urgency this time. He tightened his grip around me and

soon I was clawing back at him, feeling his hard arms and

broad chest, squeezing the strength in his shoulders. The

man was built like an ox and I felt like a dainty, little fairy in

his hold.

But as we continued, and the world around us dropped

away, I felt less like a dainty fairy and more like a woman on

a mission. A woman who wanted control. And a woman

who would get it.

We fumbled our way to his shoebox bedroom as he

deftly whipped my tunic and leggings off, leaving me in

mismatched bra and underwear. I didn’t care, though. I tore

open his shirt, the buttons unsnapping in a row with a

satisfying sound.

I had to pause to admire how wel built he was, like a

cowboy from the old west. He looked natural y built, like he

got his pecs from hauling huge bales of hay and his arms

from branding cattle. He took advantage of my admiration

to scoop one arm around my waist, and, like I weighed

nothing at al , he threw me onto the bed. I landed with a soft

thunk and stared at him excitedly through the curtain of

messy hair that cascaded in front of my face.

“So you like it rough, do you?” I said to him in a mean

voice that startled me. It was low and throaty and not at al

like my own.

Maximus didn’t appear to notice. He just grinned, his

eyes blazing, and took off his jeans, flinging them across

the room. The fact that he was going commando was

enough of a surprise to take my mind off my strange voice

deviation. Not so surprising was the fact that he was very

wel endowed (which I already suspected; I mean look at

the size of the man) and hard as steel.

In the blink of an eye, the condom was on and he was on

top of me. I relished the feeling of his large, weighty mass.

He brought his wet lips to my neck and worked his way

down. I know the doctor and pamphlets said it was OK to

have sex a week after a miscarriage, and even though it

had been longer than that, I stil didn’t feel comfortable with

him in that region. At least not with his face.

I arched my back in pleasure as he licked down my hip

bones, I grabbed the side of his head. I gave it a tug, trying

to get him to stop his journey down below and come back

up to me but he was so wrapped up in his pursuit that he

ignored me. I tightened my grip around him and tried again,

to no avail.

A low moan escaped from my lips as a rush of power,

desire and anger rushed up from the bottom of my gut. I

crunched up, brought my hands underneath his armpits,

and with one startling motion, I yanked him up.

I yanked him up
so
hard that he landed up next to me on

the bed, bouncing from the impact.

“Darlin?” he gasped, staring at me in a mix of fear and

surprise.

I couldn’t believe my own strength but I didn’t have the

want to dwel on it.

He tried to sit up and with one hand I shoved his farthest

shoulder back down onto the bed; then, with some newly

found agility, I sprang up and jumped on top of him,

straddling him tightly with my thighs.

I leaned down on him, my breasts pressing against his

chest, and I smiled sweetly.

“Is this too rough for you?”

His eyes narrowed momentarily. “Is that how you want to

play?”

I chuckled and started attacking his neck with my tongue.

I don’t know what had come over me; it was almost like I

was playing a different role, a part in a play. It was scary,

just taking a backseat to al of this as I lightly raked my nails

up and down his arms, but it was strangely liberating. I

wasn’t myself at al , and for once I was OK with that.

In fact, part of me welcomed it. Maybe a little too much.

With one firm hand, I guided Maximus’s cock into me,

which elicited a lustful groan out of him. I didn’t feel any

pain, I didn’t feel much of anything except a surge of energy

spreading apart my insides. I kissed him violently and

gyrated my hips into a fast, steady rhythm, which caused

more of his moaning to fil my mouth.

He tried to pul back and, gasping for breath and not

wanting to come just yet, he pleaded, “Slow down.”