Sons of Zeus: Risky Business Read online

  At present, she felt neither.

  Psyche dropped her bag near the bed and stood a moment. Her mind blurred between frustration and questions pondered the reason he would leave. Had she done something to scare him away? Or had he simply gotten what he needed and moved on?

  Her head pounded, partly from hunger, but more from the tension throbbing at the base of her neck.

  A fleeting thought of the toys she'd bought a few days previous, played in her mind. Unfortunately, she'd not bought any of the hundred of vibrators displayed. Not that she'd ever used one. Not that she figured she would need one this weekend.

  With a heavy sigh, Psyche sauntered to the tiny kitchenette in the corner of the bedroom suite. She'd set up a small counter with cabinets, a small refrigerator, and microwave so she wouldn’t have to be interrupted from her writing in the middle of the night. The idea, then, seemed like an intelligent one, now as she placed her tea in the microwave, it seemed pathetic and lonely.

  As her tea steeped, she ran a tub filled with frothy, steaming bubbles, hoping that she could forget the sensation of his mouth and hands on her skin.

  With her teacup on the floor beside the tub, Psyche undressed and eased herself into the calming water. Above her the skylight displayed a thousand stars in the night sky. Maybe women like her were never meant to find someone to spend their lives with; perhaps it was her destiny to live forever alone, giving only counsel where she could not achieve a relationship.

  Through the window, opened just enough to allow a bit of fresh mountain night air, she heard the lonely hoot of an owl in the distance, followed by a shrill scream of a mountain lion. In time her humiliation would likely subside and she would get herself a good lawyer to brace herself against the possible public repercussion of her behavior. If that became an issue.

  Psyche held her hands over her eyes and leaned back, resting her weary head against the tub pillow.

  Of course, it would become an issue. Why else would he have agreed to meet with her?

  * * *

  "You have the photos?" Aphrodite tapped her talon-like nails on the smoke-glass top of the boardroom table.

  "There was just enough daylight left. We think we got some good shots, enough anyway to accomplish what you wanted." The short man was viably nervous and it pleased Aphrodite. He slid the camera across the table to her waiting hand.

  "Wonderful, then all that is required is to download them onto my computer and voila' we have Ms. Rainbo in the act." Aphrodite grinned, her red painted lips thinning over her bright smile.

  "Uh, well, that's not exactly how it was, Ms. Aphrodite, ma'am…er, boss."

  The man grimaced as he waited for her wrath. She was saving it for later, down in the bowels of her dungeon, where she kept an array of her best pleasure toys. But, that honor was only given if he provided what she wanted. "What exactly do you mean?" She enunciated each word in hopes he caught the implication that his story had better be damn good, and the results even better. From the fearful look in his eye, she doubted she would give or receive any pleasure tonight. Rats.

  "Unfortunately, it wasn't so good. Are you aware of the number of snakes indigenous to that area of forest wildlife?"

  The man swallowed hard.

  He was lucky to have his jugular intact. Aphrodite leaned back in the leather high back executive's chair and blinked a couple of times, reeling in the lightning bolt wrath seething inside her.

  She puckered her lips, realizing from the horrified look on his face, that hers was likely contorted to somewhere between a grimace and a sneer. "What pictures did you get?" Her tone was controlled, masking her anger.

  The man swallowed, his large Adams apple bobbing in his throat. "Well, we got him feeding her a strawberry, and then she unbuttoned his shirt, and he unbuttoned hers—and wow, well, that kiss was enough for me. Set my loins on fire that one did."

  His goofy grin quickly faded as he returned his gaze to hers.

  She blinked twice. "What else?"

  "Well, that’s the problem, you see. They moved out of range of the our view and so we had to, you know, think quickly on our feet—"

  Aphrodite twirled her hand urging him to move along with his lame story. She should never have sent an amateur to do a professionals job.

  "So, when we got to the next window, there was this nest of snakes right up next to the house. I guess maybe they had a home under the porch, or—"

  "Stewart!"

  The small man reared back fidgeting with his fingers.

  "Did you get any other pictures?"

  "Well, that’s the thing. The light by then, was getting sketchy and I knew you'd want a clear photo, and then of course, there were the snakes—"

  "You didn't get anything else after that?" she screeched loud enough that the windowpanes vibrated.

  The man gazed at her as though expecting fire to shoot from her mouth and destroy him. Unfortunately, those powers were never bestowed on her; they went to her cousin, Hades.

  "Well, that’s about the time he left." The man glanced up at her with a slight shrug.

  Aphrodite tipped her head, unsure if she'd heard him correct. "Left? Who left?"

  "Well, Eros of course."

  Aphrodite let this seep into her brain. "Did he go back?"

  "No ma'am, not that we saw. But we high-tailed it right over here, to give you what we got. Strange thing, there was quite a bit of shouting going on inside, but those places, yeah, they have great insulation, we couldn’t hear what they were arguing about."

  "Where is he now?" Her voice rose in agitation.

  "Eros?"

  Aphrodite nodded, planning how she could send this guy on a long, perhaps permanent vacation to the Underworld Mailroom, provided they could stand him.

  Stewart held up his palms and shrugged. "We only stayed long enough to watch the upstairs light go on. We figured she was up there alone. Not much point in going to all the trouble of that, eh?"

  Aphrodite tapped her fingernails in rapid succession, her gaze riveted to the dark sky beyond the plate glass office window.

  Has Psyche already figured out Eros game? Was this a clever scheme on her part to turn the tables on Eros and hence, Aphrodite's Pleasures?

  "I want you back out there at dawn. Shoot anything that comes in or out of that cabin."

  "Yes, Ms. Aphrodite. May I—"

  She shoved the camera back to him, smacking him square in his palm.

  "Your efforts of course, if you succeed, will be greatly rewarded."

  The man's eyes lit up as he slipped the camera in his coat pocket.

  "And I shall not disappoint you, my Queen."

  A wry smile lifted the corner of Aphrodite's lips. She'd heard that line before. Just in case, she 'd better come up with a contingency plan.

  Chapter Eight

  Eros sat for a long time in the dark security of his car hidden at the edge of the woods, watching as Psyche's bedroom light went on and eventually went dark. His physical discomfort was less painful than what roiled in his gut. He'd found himself carried away by his emotional entanglement with her. And that was not part of his game plan. Not that he didn’t have a healthy respect for a woman's emotional needs, but never had a woman's needs exceeded his own desire. Bottom line was, he had a serious desire not only to give her pleasure, but to see her response to the pleasure that only he could give her.

  Damn, that wasn't how it was supposed to work.

  Eros leaned his forehead on his clasped hands, still poised on the steering wheel. He hadn't moved from the spot for the better part of two hours.

  No woman had ever caused him to feel this way.

  It would piss his mother off for him to actually have feelings for this woman.

  Feelings? Eros raised his head, staring into the pitch black of his surroundings. Could it be? Did he have feelings for Psychedelic Rainbo?

  He glanced at the second story cabin window and seeing the ghostly flutter of a white curtain blowing in a gentle breeze,
his heart began to pound against his chest. She'd be in bed by now, no doubt still in the same despair he'd left her in.

  Guilt twitched inside him, but the twitch below his belt caused him to grin. The memory of her sweet scent, her velvet skin beneath his palms caused his breath to hitch.

  Eros leaned back in the car seat, his hands gripping the leather, encased wheel. He contemplated his sanity, not just his options.

  The repercussions of what he contemplated could be disastrous, but not following through with them, would be ten times worse.

  Eros licked his lips as he wiped his sweaty palms over his dress pants. Carefully, he opened his car door shoving aside a vision of red flags creating a mental roadblock to his idea. In particular, the brutal reprimand he would likely get from his mother.

  He spied the thick ivy-covered trellis leading to the second floor balcony and said a silent prayer that it would hold his weight.

  Halfway to the top, Eros questioned his sanity once again. Splinters from the aging trellis stabbed at his fingers as he fought to grasp hold of the dewy foliage. Though a lush lawn below might pad a fall, Eros would sooner not have to deal with a broken limb, much less face an angered Psyche—again. Eros smiled at his thoughts. When had he become so concerned about how his actions would affect anyone?

  The railing above was within arms reach. He could see it above him. He hesitated, wondering how he would get in once he got there, and if he got in, what would he say to her?

  He shoved his concerns aside as he hooked his arms over the rail and hauled himself onto the balcony. He was never happier to have solid footing under him in all his life.

  That feeling, though new to him, was short-lived.

  The French doors to the balcony leading to the bedroom stood a jar, its long flowing curtain waving to him with ethereal welcome.

  It was now or never.

  Eros glanced down at his feet. While his mind was already inside whispering his newfound feelings for Psyche, his feet hadn't moved an inch.

  "You idiot," he muttered. "By the heavens, you are one of the most powerful men on the planet. Go tell this mere woman how you feel about her."

  Above him, the night sky sparkled with a million stars. The moon peeked through the tall pines as it began its nightly trek across the sky.

  Eros gently pushed open the door, brushing aside the curtain as he stepped into the room. His hands smelled like fresh greenery, his skin damp with the night's chill. As dark as was the wooded area, inside was even more so without benefit of the moon.

  He allowed his eyes to adjust before he proceeded, hands outstretched before him until he made contact with a massive carved bedpost. With a deep breath, he felt his way to the bedcovers, pleased to find her tastes were for soft satin comforters was the same as his. Quietly he undressed, already half-aroused. The idea that she could awaken, turn on the light, and consider him a threat crossed his mind, but in business, you couldn’t always predict the outcome. Eros reasoned that this moment was worth the risk.

  Surprised at the sudden bout of nervousness, Eros made his way along the edge of the bed, sensing her slumbering presence. The soft scent of her perfume met him as leaned down and pressed his cool lips to hers.

  She awoke with a jerk and a strangled moan, her hands quickly snagging his shoulders in a natural attempt to shove him away. Eros kissed her harder, allowing whatever these strange feelings he had for her pour out of him. Moving over her mouth, he reveled in the taste of her lips, losing himself as her struggle lessened and with a soft sigh of pleasure, returned his kisses with matching hunger.

  She cradled his face, her fingers searching with the same familiarity as before, only this time, he embraced her discovery, unafraid to show his emotions.

  "Is it you?" she whispered groggily.

  He nodded as her fingers traced his mouth, now warm from kissing her. "Don't speak Psyche. Don't tell me to leave. I want to be here, for me…for you." Eros slid beneath the covers, pressing his chilled flesh against the cozy warmth of her body. Blissfully, she turned into his arms, enveloping herself into his embrace. Much to his joy, she wore one of the thin gowns and it clung to her like a second skin, giving him a mental image of every curve.

  Eros held her face as he kissed her. His soul thirsted for her like a drought-stricken wasteland, his heart accepting the refreshing rain of intimacy she bestowed on him. He had never experienced an utter surrender to his emotions, or to that of a partner before. She gave of herself without reservation and Eros absorbed her selfless act, discovering in the process that he only wanted to give her more. For the first time in his life, he had no thought of his own pleasure; he wanted only to please her.

  He kissed her forehead, eyelids, as his fingertips memorized the delicate curve of her ears, the slim column of her neck. "There has never been a more precious moment in my life than right now, being here with you." He sampled the warm softness of her neck, delighting in her sighs, taken up willingly in the vortex of emotions swirling inside him.

  "I want to feel every part of you Psyche. I want to remember every detail of our night. Rise up on your knees and let me see you."

  Joy leapt in his heart as she bid his request. In the darkness she appeared before him, her gown shimmering softly in the black room. Eros reached up and trailed his finger along the warm flesh exposed in the deep v-of her gown. Knowing the design, he flicked open the knotted closure that held the gown together. He placed his palm flat against her skin, letting her get used to his touch and he felt her tremble.

  "I would never hurt you, Psyche. It is by fate that we met. I will let nothing harm you." He sat up, drawing himself to her, pressing his lips against her warm, sweet flesh.

  Something inside of him stopped running, stopped searching—he was home.

  Psyche closed her eyes to his gentle touch. Had her body not reassured her of his reality, she would have thought her dream-lover was only a product of her inner longing.

  Her fingers moved through the dark tight curls of his hair, savoring his hungry suckling of each breast. She lifted her face to the heavens and though unable to see his face it was as though he knew every inch of her inside and out, giving her what she needed with slow and patient reverence. Heat throbbed between her thighs, causing a slow ebb to begin in her lower belly. He covered her mouth with his, drawing her down with him on the mattress, encircling her in his embrace as he drugged her with his intoxicating kisses.

  These sensations, so amazing and wonderful consumed her. She wanted to sigh and laugh at the same time. Her legs parted, straddling his hips and she gasped quietly that the gesture seemed so natural. His erection pressed against her thigh and for a moment she hesitated, fearful that her joy would be over once the primal act of mating was complete.

  He sensed her hesitancy and brushed his fingers over her cheek. "I've never felt anything like this either Psyche. I'm as frightened as you in some ways, but my body does not lie to me and it wants to please you, my sweet muse. And I want you to be pleased with me."

  His confession broke through her fear and she leaned down crushing her lips to his. His hands smoothed away the gown even as he eased her concerns and he cupped her bottom, gently running his fingertip along her warm clit.

  Psyche abandoned to the sensation, pressing against him, aware of the growing need inside her. "I need—"

  "It's what we both need, Psyche. What we both want.", "he whispered.

  He took her arms, carefully pushing her upright. "Lift up on your knees."

  Psyche followed his instructions, the chill between her legs an unwelcome sensation. She wanted to feel more, she was near crazy with need.

  "Touch me, Psyche."

  He guided her hand to his enormous member, thick and waiting at rigid attention.

  "Guide me to where you want me."

  Biting her lower lip, Psyche realized he was allowing her the freedom to take control, to take what he willingly offered to her.

  Bracing on his chest with one hand, his puls
ing member in the other, she did as he instructed. She poised over him, one hand braced against his chest as she eased onto him, enamored with the sweet sensation of their bodies merging as one.

  A sharp sting tore from her body and she froze.

  "It's okay sweetheart that will subside."

  He stroked her thighs, patient in his guidance.

  Trust. Odd, that with only her trust in his gentle voice, she accepted him fully into her body. In reverent thanks for his patience, she leaned forward cupping his face and kissed him slow and deep.

  He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her like his life depended on it. Need preceded any other thought as she curled her legs around his waist, rocking intimately with the pleasured sensations of their union.

  His fingers massaged the base of her spine, trailing lower slipping into the warm crevice where their bodies touched, teasing, stroking until she thought she would go mad with desire.

  Psyche held firm to the sinewy flesh of his shoulders. She couldn’t get enough of him, his kisses, the scent of his warm skin, and the faint scent of his cologne. She wanted to be consumed by him.

  A force both exciting and fearful coursed through her, drawing her upward to a dizzying height. Her breathing was labored, her mind spinning chaotic with utter joyful bliss.

  He pushed against her, gently urging his shaft deeper, until her mind and body exploded in a million stars. Seconds later, she realized her fingers clung to him as he lifted his hips, pushing into her with unbridled, low-timbered moans of pleasure.

  The sheer joy of wanting to have him experience pleasure as she had, filled Psyche and she ground against his lap in syncopated rhythm to his thrusts. Unexpected was the resurge of freefalling as she once again crested over the edge only this time as did her midnight lover.

  Her flesh slick, her mind worn to blissful exhaustion, she rested her forehead against his shoulder, hearing his the deep sound of his heavy breathing in her ear. He held her in place on his lap, as if unwilling to let her go.

  She was no longer a virgin.

  Now what? Cruel reality popped into her head as she rested against him. Neither of them spoke. What should she say?