Falling for Fangs

Chloe was surprised when Maxwell called her, asking if she had time to come over after work that very day. He didn’t explain why he had left, and she didn’t ask. It seemed prudent to leave the fiction of the stomach upset alone; he clearly didn’t want to share his reasons, anyway.

As she pulled up the gravel driveway, Chloe thought of the very first time she had been to the Sanguis Estate with Maxwell. How she had been crossing her fingers in her pocket that he’d like the place enough to pay the ludicrous asking price. How he had flirted with her as he inspected the plush drawing-room. How a handshake had changed both their fates.

What would have happened, Chloe wondered, if they hadn’t shaken hands on the deal? Would Maxwell have set off the curse with someone else? Would he have looked at some other woman – someone at Thelema, perhaps – with lustful desire in his heart? Would Maxwell and this faceless woman have been the ones to collect rare alpine plants, tramp through those horrible caves, and throw their most precious possessions into a cauldron by moonlight?

Would she ever have seen Maxwell again if they hadn’t shaken hands that night?

Chloe shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts away. She pulled her coat tighter around herself, shivering as she rang the doorbell. It was icy cold, and the sky was a threatening colour. Snow was a definite possibility.

The door opened, revealing not Maxwell but Charles.

“Chloe!” he said, leaning in to kiss her on both cheeks. “How delightful to see you! I was just leaving.”

“Oh, right,” Chloe said, shivering and edging into the warmth of the house. “Poker stuff?”

“Yes indeed,” Charles said, grinning. “I’m trying to convince Maxwell to hand the regular game over to me when he leaves.”

“When he leaves?” Chloe felt like the icy air was in her very bones. She had known that it would happen some time; of course she had. Even if she wished it wasn’t so. But to hear Charles mention it so casually was like that dagger from Merthyr Tydfil was being rammed into her ribcage.

“Well, he says he won’t be in Crowley Lake forever,” Charles shrugged. “And I’d hate to see the game die when he flies out to Miami, or wherever his friends are.”

“Right,” Chloe said, nodding. “I see.”

“I’ll keep the game alive,” Charles said, clearly totally oblivious to Chloe’s torment. “And you’d always be very welcome, of course.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said. “That’s…that’s kind of you.”

“Chloe?” Maxwell’s voice behind her. “I didn’t realise you were already here.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Charles said, with a very obvious wink that made Maxwell roll his eyes as he took Chloe’s hand in his. “See you!”

Maxwell waved as Charles departed. He, at least, was unbothered by the freezing air.

“Hi,” Maxwell said, turning to face her. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” Chloe said. Why did this feel suddenly awkward? “Um, I’m glad you’re…feeling better.”

“Yes,” Maxwell said after a moment. “A lot better. Sorry that I had to…”

“It’s fine,” Chloe said, shaking her head. “I had fun anyway. Drank too much, so I had to use Jesse’s potion this morning.” She was talking too fast, trying to make up for the uncomfortable silence. “Tasted like absolute garbage, but it worked a treat.”

“Oh,” Maxwell said. “Well, that’s good.”

“Very good,” Chloe said. And why couldn’t she have a normal conversation with Maxwell? Usually, they could talk for hours like old friends. But now, it was like trying to make polite small talk with someone’s vaguely racist uncle at a barbecue.

“I…” Maxwell looked like he was about to say something and then paused.

“Yes?” Chloe pressed, desperate for him to break the tension between them.

“I forgot what I was going to say,” he finished. “Uh, you look lovely. You always do.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said. “I didn’t look very lovely this morning. Julia said I looked like death warmed up.”

Maxwell cracked a small smile. “Like me, then?”

“Nowhere near as good as you,” Chloe said, and she reached out to run her fingers through his hair. If she couldn’t find words, well then…

Maxwell seemed to agree. “I doubt that,” he said softly, drawing her close to him. Chloe closed her eyes as his hands moved over her body, sending sparks flying under her skin. Whatever the turmoil in her brain, his touch made her body come alive. No amount of confusing emotions could stop her from wanting him, it seemed.

“Can I take you upstairs?” Maxwell murmured, his mouth trailing delicate kisses over her neck, her collarbone as one hand slipped under her dress.

And Chloe knew that probably wasn’t the best idea. She should talk to him, shouldn’t she? She should ask when he was leaving, for a start. But her treacherous body was having none of it. Why start an argument when she could have this?

“You’d better, or you’re going to have to take me right here,” Chloe pressed her body into his.

“Don’t tempt me,” Maxwell’s words vibrated through her. Chloe gasped as he picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around him. “I’ll always want you, Chloe. Want to have you all for myself.”

If only he meant that beyond their bedroom activities.

“Don’t let me go,” she whispered, not knowing quite whether she was asking him not to drop her on the stairs, or for something more.

“I won’t,” Maxwell promised. “How could I ever want to? You’re perfect, Chloe.”

Their mouths were locked together in desperate, crushing kisses like each one might be the last as Maxwell laid her down on his bed, stripping off his shirt, his jeans, like he couldn’t wait to be naked, to feel her skin pressed against his own.

“I need this.” His voice was low and rough. “I need you right now. I can’t stop thinking about you.” His mouth was on hers once more, and as his big hands fumbled with the zip, Chloe thought he might tear her dress off. She wouldn’t have minded. She was every bit as desperate as him, and Chloe had never felt so close to Maxwell as she did at this moment.

But why did it feel like it might just be the very last time?