Page 89 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
“Oh.” I hadn’t considered that. “That’s… not ideal.”
“And before you shout at me, it’s literally impossible to block thoughts when I’m having sex. There’s too much direct skin contact. And it’s… too intimate a moment.”
“Normally I hate you reading my mind,” I said. “But it was actually so great that you knew what I wanted. Knew I didn’t want gentle treatment.” I grinned wickedly. “Knew I like dirty talk.”
“That was actually just a guess.” A slight smile played at his lips.
“But… did you enjoy that then, or not?” I asked, an anxious knot coiling in my gut.
Maxwell’s face softened. “I enjoyed it very much. Sorry if that wasn’t clear. Actually, I’ve never had sex with anyone who knew about my gift before.”
“Never?”
“Not many people know about me.” He shrugged. “My mother. Killigrew Street. That’s it.”
“You never told any of your ex-girlfriends?”
Maxwell fixed me with a pointed look. “You’ve spent eighteen months abusing me for ‘reading your thoughts’ even when I’m doing my damnedest not to.”
“Fair point,” I winced. “Sorry about that.”
He sighed, his gaze drifting to the window. “Plus, I’ve always been scared they won’t believe me. That the next day, a team of psychiatrists will turn up, ready to cart me off to the psych ward.”
I watched the shadows play across his face, seeing him—really seeing him—perhaps for the first time.How lonely it must be, carrying a secret like that.
“Well,” I started tentatively, “maybe sex with someone who knows about it will be better for you. Great, even.” I cleared my throat. “You know, in case we need to, um… ‘get it out of our system’ again, or something.”
Maxwell laughed, the sound warm and rich. “I have a feeling you’d just merrily voice your desires aloud anyway.”
“True.” I grinned. “I usually have no problem being very vocal during sex. My ex before Dev, Jamie, used to say I was so loud the neighbours were sending him death—”
I cut off as Maxwell visibly flinched. He looked away sharply, but not before I caught the unmistakable flare of anger in his eyes.
Zap.
That sensation again—like a bolt of electricity arcing between us, connecting us. But this time it wasn’t just a tingle or a flash. This time it felt like someone had hooked jumper cables to my ribs and cranked the power to maximum.
The force of it knocked the air from my lungs. My entire body jolted, muscles spasming as the current ripped through me. My vision blurred at the edges, and for a moment, I swore I could see the air between Maxwell and me crackling with blue-white energy.
My hand flew to my chest, pressing against my sternum where the sensation had centred.
“Fuck,” I gasped when I could finally breathe again, still dizzy from that overwhelming scent that seemed to have seared itself into my senses. “Did you—”
But one look at Maxwell’s face told me everything. His hand mirrored mine, pressed flat against his chest. “What is this… thisthingthat keeps happening to you?” he demanded. “I’ve never come across anything like it before. And don’t just say ‘wolf thing’ again. What is it?”
Panic flared through me. Because Ididknow what it was. Or I thought I did, anyway. And there was no way that Maxwell could know.
I forced my mind blank, imagining a pristine white wall.
Like that’s not suspicious, Rory.
Gah, stop thinking about how that’s suspicious!
“I’m going to go wash quickly,” I blurted, scrambling off the sofa and nearly tripping over my own feet in my haste to escape.
I bolted for the bathroom, shoulder pain flaring, not looking back. I slammed the door behind me, leaning against it as I tried to catch my breath.
“No, no, no,” I murmured to myself, pacing the tiny bathroom floor. “Why is my life always so complicated?”
