Sons of Zeus: Risky Business Read online

  Psyche peered into the dark living room as she walked down the narrow hall toward the dining area. The stairwell rose to her left, its landing shrouded in darkness. To her right the rough, hewn split log walls bore the steady gaze of family pictures over the years spent at the cabin. She hesitated considering her "up-to-now" spotless reputation.

  "I'm glad to see you made it. No, don't turn around."

  A pair of sturdy hands eased gently over her shoulders preventing her from moving. His voice melted over her, virtually obliterating all concern. "What do I do?" Her voice sounded far away, afraid, unsure.

  "First, relax. You 're as stiff as a frozen carp."

  Psyche smiled. At least he had a sense of humor. She found that sexy.

  The hands on her shoulders expertly massaged her neck, easing the stiffness from her muscles. She closed her eyes to the gentle strength she felt in them. It would be so nice to let someone take care of her—

  "Let me take your jacket." His lips nuzzled the back of her neck as he slipped the coat from her arms, sending shivers up her spine.

  "Ah, I see that you remembered my request."

  "Remembered?" Psyche whispered, her mind was already a misty haze of sensual bliss. Part of her wanted to turn now and abandon herself to her desire, just to taste those mind-drugging kisses that had kept her awake nights since their encounter at the bookstore.

  "To wear what you wore the night we met."

  His hands smoothed down the length of her arms, following down the sides of her skirt. The solid warmth of his chest pressed against her back as his hands slid over the front of her skirt. With his arms draped around her, Psyche experienced an odd sense of security.

  "Hungry?" He spoke quietly, as he leaned near her ear, his lips gently capturing her ear lobe, his breath hot against her skin. He nipples puckered with the next shiver across her flesh.

  Psyche nodded lost in wanting to devour the sumptuous mouth she remembered. A slow warmth heated her flesh, moistening her palms.

  He slid the blindfold over her eyes and placing his hands on her shoulders, guided her to, what she presumed was the dining area.

  "Sit here." His hands eased her to the edge of the table.

  "Can I take my shoes off?" The nine-inch heels looked great with the suit, but after a day on them, she longed to free her feet.

  "Not yet, Psyche. I have plans for those."

  Liquid heat pooled in her lower belly, dampening the thin fabric of her thong.

  "Taste this."

  The soft pad of his thumb brushed across her lower lip urging her mouth open. Desire to take his finger in her mouth teased her reason, but still she held these new sensations at bay.

  Cool and fruity, he glided the strawberry over her lower lip.

  "Close your mouth over the tip, Psyche. Feel the texture, taste its sweetness. Release your inhibitions and enjoy the sensation."

  Psyche did as instructed, at first smiling as she licked the dewy flesh of the fruit, but as she relaxed in the pleasure of taste, her other senses were heightened. The cologne on his fingertips titillated her nose; the warmth of his all-male presence drew Psyche deeper into a euphoric state of enjoyment. Her mind wandered free, delighting in every newly discovered sensation. A small sigh emitted from deep in her throat.

  "You should see this from my angle, Psyche. I'm getting hard just watching you. I can almost feel that sweet tongue stroking me." His fingertips, softly lifted her chin upward and his lips touched hers, pulling her into a sweet kiss that caused tears to prick her eyelids. His lips left hers, leaving her face upturned and her body wanting.

  "You are a passionate woman, Psyche. You have so much to offer. So much to enjoy. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, my lady."

  For a moment, Psyche wanted to ask that he not make her promises, shower her with shallow words. She didn’t want to lose herself to his empty promises. There was no mistaking why they were there. Carnal lust, no emotions attached. It's how she'd prepared for the weekend. She hadn't prepared to feel intimacy.

  Psyche reached for his hand, drawing the berry to her mouth once again and parting her lips, she took the whole berry in her mouth, letting it slide through her lips until she reached the tip.

  She heard his soft, low groan and something inside her snapped as though she'd accomplished a great hurdle.

  "Sons of Zeus," he muttered soft and dangerous.

  She bit off the end, allowing the juice to trickle from the corner of her mouth as she savored the juicy sweetness of her personal victory.

  Psyche reached up to wipe away the residue when his hand covered her wrist.

  "Let me."

  His mouth touched her chin, gently lapping the stickiness from her skin, sucking softly on her lower lip, drawing her into another tormenting kiss that had Psyche wanting to clear the table and mate like animals.

  Deeper his kisses took her, drugging her mind with dark pleasures.

  "Are you still hungry?"

  She could only nod, praying that they both knew what for.

  "Ravenous," she whispered hoarse, her throat dry.

  "Then let me feed you, Psyche. Let me give you what your body craves."

  "Are we going to the bedroom now?"

  He interrupted her words with kisses that threatened to set her skin on fire.

  "Later."

  His fingers slid through her hair, his palms gently cradled her face.

  "You are exquisite. As beautiful as any goddess, Psyche."

  He worshipped her mouth, his caresses slow, cherishing. Tears sprung from the corners of her eyes and she was grateful she wore a blindfold.

  "Let me show you what I fantasized about with you that night at the bookstore."

  His kisses blazed a trail of fire down the slope of her neck and she tipped her head to the side offering him access. The rolled sleeves of his dress shirt exposed the corded strength of his forearms and she clung to them to keep her weak knees from collapsing.

  "Is it fair that you can see me, but I can't see you?" She reached up to yank off the obstruction causing her blindness. To Hades with her secrecy rules. She burned to see her magnificent lover.

  His hand stopped her.

  "For now, it is better this way. The way you originally planned."

  Eros held her delicate hand in his. Emotion plagued his system. That had never happened before, not with any woman. And heaven knows, there'd been plenty. He tried to rationalize that he was doing this for the sake of the company, because he'd been assigned to black mail her, even that he was only doing this for his controlling mother, but one taste of Psyche's lips, and Eros was lost.

  The idea petrified him.

  "Maybe you're right," she conceded.

  He let out a silent sigh of relief. He'd come to grips that this weekend would have to be under her terms, in order to gain her trust. The part of his ego burned by her choice of total darkness was difficult at first, but he'd gotten past that, deciding he didn’t need to look into her eyes to see her pleasure. Eros planned to bring her to the realms of paradise over and over this weekend. He was a pro at it. It was part of his job description.

  He drew her from the chair, crushing her body to his as he captured her mouth in a hard kiss. Her surprised gasp, followed by her surrender to him heightened the passion quickly building between them.

  She clawed at his shirt, this model of calm dignity, grabbing his face in another kiss as though she needed them to breathe. Her hands fisted the material of his shirt, tugging it free from his pants, as she met his kisses, her tongue unashamed in mating with his.

  Eros clamped his hands over her bottom, roughly pressing her against his arousal.

  "Go ahead Psyche. Undress me."

  She licked her swollen pink lips as she found each of his shirt buttons turning each one methodically. Eros nipples tightened, as did the rest of him, as he gazed down at her progress.

  Carefully, she slid the shirt over his shoulders, her breathing shallow.

&nbs
p; He'd never been so turned on in his life.

  Eros ripped the shirt from his arms, tossing it to the floor. "My turn." He slowly pulled her silky shirt from the waistband of her skirt, his fingers skating over her breasts as he reached for the tiny cloth covered buttons.

  She rested against the table, her arms braced at her sides, allowing him the freedom of his exploration. With slow ease he parted her shirt, revealing a same color deep rose lace bra. He pushed her succulent breasts together in his hands, easing the tips over their lacy confinement as he lowered his mouth to sample their pebbled sweetness.

  Encouraged by her sighs he tasted each tight bud, licking, sucking until she cried out and grasped his head, pulling him to her face in a searing hot kiss.

  His mind fighting to stay in control, he guided her to the wall, glad she wore the heels.

  "Give yourself to me, Psyche." Her thighs as he'd imagined more than once, were as soft as satin as he pushed her skirt past her hips. He sensed her need growing unbridled, particularly after batting her hands from his belt buckle more than once.

  "We'll both get to paradise soon, love. Stay with me." Eros heart beat fierce against his chest wall. With the power of a lightening bolt, what appeared underneath that skirt caused Eros mouth to gap.

  "What's wrong?"

  His gaze stay glued to her barely-there rose colored thong. Had he died and gone to heaven? She was amazing, so trusting, so willing to explore, and enjoy.

  "Not a thing, sweetheart." He pressed his body full against hers, claiming her mouth, and in a sense claiming all of her as his, if only for tonight, tomorrow, for however long they had. He was determined that she would never forget this weekend.

  The soft mewl emitting from her throat brought her hands to his belt once more. If in fact, she'd never been with a man before, he would know soon enough, but there was no doubt that her primal instinct was fiercely beckoning her.

  Eros guided her hand lower, pressing her palm over the hard bulge on his pants. "See what you do to me, Psyche?"

  She stilled and sensing her uncertainty, Eros lay his hand atop hers, offering guidance to her gentle stroke. His hands found the warm inside of her thighs, matching her strokes, teaching her the pleasure of touch. He slipped one finger beneath the fabric of her panties and stroked her moist womanhood.

  "Don't be afraid, Psyche, you are a strong, sexy woman." Eros gently massaged entering deeper with each stroke. He could not have held back from kissing her if his life depended on it. She was the picture of sensuality, with her blouse undone, her hair in disarray swept over her shoulders, her legs slightly parted, and all for him. He trailed his fingers over her exposed belly, trailing her musky liquid over her flesh. The cold realization that he was falling and hard, for Psyche Rainbo got shoved aside as he grabbed her hands and guided her to his belt.

  "You're in control, Psyche. You set the pace from here."

  And then in a move that nearly shattered his control, she slipped out of her thong, her long legs encased in her black thigh hi-stockings and those killer stilettos.

  Eros pulled a foil packet from his pocket and waited as she leaned forward and unfastened his pants. He held a steady gaze to the dark ceiling, his jaw clenched to maintain control as she pushed down his pants, releasing his rigid member from its confinement. Not hesitating, Eros sheathed himself with a new product, figuring he might as well test it. He clasped her wrists in one hand, holding them over her head against the wall.

  "I told you I had plans for those shoes of yours." He cupped her thigh and lifted her leg around his waist. With the heels, as he suspected, their bodies aligned perfectly. The tip of his member quivered against her slick heat.

  "Do you want me, Psyche?" He was more than ready for her.

  "Kiss me again."

  With a smile, Eros complied. Unexpected was the scant taste of salt on her lips, the taste that could only be from tears.

  Tears?

  "Do you want me to stop? We won't go any further if you aren't absolutely ready."

  She hesitated for a heartbeat.

  "I want to be able to touch you."

  Eros glanced up, realizing he held her wrists against the wall. It was a common gesture, he never thought about. It was purely a control thing. He opened his hand releasing her arms.

  What she did next came as a shock to his system. She slid her arms around his neck, intimately drawing her body to his, pressing her breasts unashamed against him.

  His erection stood at full attention, ready with but one swift lunge—

  She inhaled deep against his neck. "Your scent has haunted me since last we met. I'm afraid it's kept me awake just thinking about you."

  Where was the anonymity she wanted?

  Her shy confession touched something foreign inside him, breaking lose the concrete wall erected around his heart. Though tentative, her lips caressed his chest, leaving a trail of kisses that seared his flesh. Eros squeezed his eyes tight as she playfully nipped at his earlobe.

  What was happening? What was this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach? He'd never had any woman talk to him during foreplay. Passion was a raw, mindless thing.

  "I want to feel you inside of me. I have to remember every detail of how you make me feel."

  Feel?

  Great gods! Eros lowered her leg, stepping away from her with a heavy sigh. This wasn't right. She expected too much of him. His business was passion, not emotion.

  He used lust as a virtual playground—void of emotion, void of commitment, certainly void of intimacy.

  But, Psyche wanted intimacy and he wasn't prepared to give it to her, not now…perhaps, never. Hell, he didn't even know if he was capable of such a thing. That about made him ill.

  "Is there something wrong?" her voice quivered.

  She reached blindly for him and he caught her hands, clasping them between his. "This is your first time, isn't it?" Eros swallowed, knowing full well the signs of a virgin's innocence. Psyche had something to prove to herself and he was her guinea pig.

  And he wasn't at all sure he liked the idea.

  Psyche felt as though she'd been given a blow to the stomach. The rapid chill in the air squelched any and all romantic ideas blissfully swimming in her head. He'd taken her to the edge of a fantasy, made her feel sensations she'd never felt, much less known she could feel, and then what?

  Was this a bitter joke? Had he planned all along to take her this far, teasing her with his seductive ways, and drop her then like a rock? What type of man would be so cruel?

  "I'm sorry."

  Sorry? She was moments; seconds maybe, from a milestone in her life and all he could say was "I'm sorry?"

  At least he had the decency to pretend to have a measure of regret in his voice; then again perhaps he was a good con. How could she have been so stupid, so childish to believe that she could be as free about sex as her sisters?

  Psyche tugged her skirt down around her bare thighs. Her stomach roiled. She felt like a tramp. "Please leave." Psyche pressed her back firm against the wall, hoping she wouldn't throw up until he left.

  His finger touched her cheek. Psyche jerked her head away. "Don't."

  "Psyche—"

  "Just—leave." A sob of frustration clogged her throat. How could she allow herself to be humiliated like this? What if the whole thing had been staged? Oh Lord, what if right now, a photographer lurked in the corner, documenting this travesty to her life?

  "It's not what—"

  Psyche's legs buckled and she slid to the floor. "Please go away. Leave me alone. You got what you wanted, now go." She covered her face, despair penetrating her heart. What in heavens name made her think that she'd found a secret lover with whom she could share a few hours of unbridled passion? Passion always came with a price.

  "I'll go if that's what you want, but please, let me explain—"

  Psyche shook her head furious that he would humiliate her further with his lies. "I don't know who you are, or why you would choose to humiliat
e me in this way."

  "Psyche, please—"

  "Is your photographer still here? Are they still videotaping?"

  "There's no—"

  Anger rose to the top of her frenzied emotions, providing a surge of energy. She pushed to her feet. Her hands fisted at her sides. "Leave now, or I will call the police," she spoke through clenched teeth. She could feel them grinding against one another as she tried to control her fear and frustration.

  "Fine, but you are wrong, completely wrong."

  She heard the faint sound of his pants zipper. "Like I would believe you now," she spat. Tears squeezed past her lids. She would sooner die than let him see her cry.

  "You're right, I'll leave. This wasn't wise."

  "It sure wasn't." Psyche swallowed hard, holding herself pinned to the wall, her hands trembling. The front door slammed for a few seconds, all the air seemed to disappear from the room.

  With slow weariness, she peeled the blindfold from her eyes, too symbolic of the moment; she tossed it to the floor, as a bitter smile lifted the corner of her mouth.

  It took a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the darkening interior. Her thong lay on the floor, a lacy, taunting reminder of her indiscretion. She grabbed them and wadded them into her hand as she made her way through the house to the front door.

  Psyche turned the latch sealing her self from the cruelty of the outside world. Guilt assaulted her. She should have known better. Her research had proven time and again that this type of relationship, starting with nothing, usually ended in the same manner.

  She tugged the handle of her suitcase and found the light switch to the foyer. Brilliance illuminated the cabin stairwell. Psyche trudged up the stairs, her body unsatisfied, her heart a proverbial wreck, her ego, what was left of it, shot to Hades.

  Nothing of course that a hot cup of tea, a long soaking bubble bath, and a good book wouldn't resolve.

  Who was she kidding?

  She flipped on the bedroom light and saw the gowns from Aphrodite's Pleasures spread across her comforter. She believed that having fantasies had the potential of being both satisfying and healthy.