Sun God Seeks…Surrogate?

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  Now that I could think clearly, I saw the truth; I liked this man—deity, whichever—a lot. I loved being near him. I loved having my hair and clothes saturated with his delicious, exotic scent. I loved how he made my cuticles—and other unmentionable parts—tingle with adrenaline.

  It didn’t matter that I knew next to nothing about his past, his world, or—gulp—species. It didn’t matter that the timing sucked or that my world was falling apart. My heart knew what it wanted. It knew the moment we’d met.

  But how did he feel about me?

  Pondering the question, I studied his exquisitely masculine face and watched his wide chest rise and fall with the peaceful rhythm of his breath.

  Ask him.

  I can’t.

  Since when did you become shy? And think of the agony you’ll feel not knowing. Ask him!

  Ugh. Okay.

  “Nick?”

  His eyes snapped open.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said. “Did I wake you?”

  “No. I was thinking,” he said.

  About what? I wondered.

  He ran his hands through his golden brown hair and then stretched his arms above his head. He still wore his white linen shirt buttoned just above the navel.

  On any other man, the partially-exposed-chest look would be so “player,” but not on him.

  “Feeling better?” he asked and gave my legs a little rub that only made me turn warm and gooey inside.

  “I think so.” I sat up, and pulled my legs away; I needed to concentrate. “Can I ask why you’re helping me?”

  He glanced away. “Because I must.”

  “Must? Like, gun to head ‘must’ or compelled by your own emotions?”

  He leaned forward and placed the heels of his palms over his eyes. “This is what I’ve been contemplating; I am compelled to watch over mortals, but with you, it is something entirely different. The two weeks I searched for you, following our night together, were…extremely distressing. I thought of little else besides you.”

  My brain buzzed with ego-laden joy. It was almost too surreal to think that someone like Nick could have feelings for someone like me. He was a deity, for heaven’s sake. And a really, really hot one at that.

  “Nice to know I wasn’t alone,” I mumbled.

  He threaded his fingers through his hair. “I have yet to find a reason or to come to terms with it, but the need to be with you, to be physical, is extremely”—he peered into my eyes—“potent.”

  “Potent?” I gulped.

  His fierce gaze burrowed into me as he nodded slowly.

  If we hadn’t slept together yet, then I sure as heck wanted to now. If we had, then I wanted him again. And again and again and again. I wanted to feel his hard flesh buried deep inside my body. I wanted to feel the friction of his sculpted chest against my breasts.

  “Wow. Is it getting really hot in here?” I fanned my face with my hand.

  Without breaking his hungry gaze, he replied, “Yes, very, very…hot.”

  I was about to lean forward and show him exactly what I meant by “hot,” but then he turned away and said, “But we can never be together. We are not of the same ilk, Penelope.”

  Ilk? Was he trying to say I wasn’t good enough for him? That I was from some lower class not worthy of his greatness?

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I asked in a not-so-happy tone.

  “There is no future for two beings as ourselves. We live in different worlds, and I am forever bound to my role—its very nature precludes having a life with a human woman—or any woman.”

  “Oh.” That was a better response than I’d expected. At least he wasn’t shunning me for being human. But still, I didn’t know how to respond without sounding needy or pathetic. Because what I really wanted to say was, “Are you out of your frigging mind? You can’t throw up your hands! You giant stubborn ass!”

  He continued, “I struggled with the limitations of my existence for thousands of years, but eventually, I grew to accept the truth: My plight is eternal. It does little good to fantasize about it changing.”

  Once again, he turned his gaze on me, and I thought I might turn into a pathetic little puddle of nothingness. The sting of rejection bit hard.

  “And believe me, Penelope,” he said with a gravelly voice, “after the things I’ve dreamt of doing to you, it would break a mortal man’s soul in half to walk away. But I have no other choice.”

  How could he simply accept there was no hope for change in his life, no hope for us? As petty as it might be, I suddenly felt angry. “Funny how your brother seems to disagree. Didn’t you say he’s marrying a Payal?”

  Nick sprung from the couch. “Because he is a selfish fool. It’s only a matter of time before he is forced to choose his duties over Emma. He will hurt her.”

  I didn’t know what to say. His resolve, his belief was ironclad. And if he didn’t think love was worth fighting for, then maybe he wasn’t the man I thought.

  Maybe he just doesn’t think you’re worth fighting for.

  Ouch. Thank you, self-deprecating thoughts. Your timing is impeccable. Shoo!

  “I will see you through this ordeal, Penelope. And then we will go our separate ways.” He moved toward the doorway that led to the bedroom wing of the house.

  “Are you sure about your destiny?” I asked.

  He stopped, but did not bother to turn around. “I am a god. I am always sure.”

  Who knew a man filled with so much heat could be so cold.

  CHAPTER 20

  I paced the length of my room for about twenty minutes before deciding I wasn’t buying his “I’m a god, so don’t argue with me” garbage. At a minimum, he owed me an explanation about our plans to save my mom if Viktor didn’t return. And how could she possibly be a Payal but not know? How could I be a Payal and not know? And if we were Payals, what exactly did it mean? Was I inherently evil?

  I wanted my answers. This was my life! Mine. And nobody would take away my right to drive the Penelope-mobile.

  Go take that man his lemons, Penelope!

  I searched the living room and kitchen—a very nice stainless steel and granite-everything kitchen—but saw no signs of Nick. I found it hard to believe he would go far when monsters had my name on their hit list.

  Then I went to Nick’s room but didn’t see him there either. (Again, I resisted looking at what was in his nightstand, which almost killed me.) When I turned to leave, a movement outside the large French-style glass doors caught my attention.

  Nick.

  He was soaking in the swimming pool, his bronzed face tilted toward the hot sun and powder blue sky. His muscular arms stretched along the edge of the pool, and the swells of his insanely powerful biceps sparked a wave of tension deep in my belly, reminding me that when all was said and done, humans were still animals.

  Grunt, grunt. Me want big, strong, stubborn man. Me like. Grunt, grunt.

  Yes, he spoke to my inner cave girl in a way I’d never comprehend. How incredibly frustrating, given how he’d flat-out rejected me.

  I swallowed hard, slid open the door, and stepped onto the sprawling flagstone patio. I sucked in a lungful of the fresh desert air from the gentle breeze.

  Breathtaking.

  The area surrounding his estate was a tropical oasis of palm trees, lush green plants, and bright tropical flowers—oranges, yellows, and reds—that contrasted with the monochromatic starkness of the surrounding desert. On one side of the yard was a fifteen-foot wall made up of stacked boulders. A waterfall ran down their smooth rounded faces and flowed into a pebble-lined trough that trickled into the swimming pool. Opposite the waterfall, stood an enormous adobe chiminea with overstuffed chairs.

  This was the perfect place to lie in the sun, sip a piña colada, and relax with a good book.

  Or make out. With Nick.

  Ugh! Stop that!

  I marched over to the pool and hovered above him. “Hi.”

  He remained perfectly still,
his face tilted toward the afternoon sun.

  “Nick, we need to talk.”

  No movement.

  “Oh, the silent treatment. I get it. Big bad Sun God is going to ignore the pesky little human. Well, I have news for you; we’re not done yet, and I’m not going to scurry away like some timid little monkey”—I’d much more like to dry hump you like a dirty little monkey—“even if you are a god.”

  No response.

  “Okay. Fine.” I pulled off my shirt and jeans, leaving on my black bra and underwear, and slipped into the shallow water, right beside him.

  “I’m not leaving until we talk. But now that I have your undivided, divine attention, I’d like to say that I’m extremely disappointed. I mean, I get let in on the big news—there are actual, real live gods living on the planet—but instead of it being a nirvana-like experience where I feel enlightened and inspired, I just feel sad. Wanna know why?”

  I paused for a moment, but he still didn’t respond.

  “Was that a yes? Good, because I’m going to tell you. You’re more lost than any human I know. Really, who’s going to feel wowed by a being of a higher form who doesn’t fight for what he wants. In fact, he sounds more like a dog who’s been kicked and beaten down. Defeated. Don’t get me wrong. I think you’re sexy as hell, and I want you in the worst kind of way, but you come up pretty darn short in the inspiration department, bub.”

  Slowly, Nick turned and rose up, towering over me as he gazed down.

  I instantly felt like an ant about to be squashed. Not that I’d ever let him know that.

  “Are you finished yet?” His nearly translucent eyes bore into me.

  I stepped forward, away from the pool’s edge at my back, and balanced on my tiptoes, meeting his scowl with a snarl. “Um. Let me think…Nope.” I poked his bare chest. “Just warming the hell up, big boy.”

  “Enough! You are twenty-five and mortal. You have no understanding of the universe. I, however, have existed for seventy thousand years. This is how I know not to waste my time weeping and whining over that which cannot be changed. This is not defeat. This is wisdom!”

  I huffed and gave him another poke. “Really now? But you’ve already admitted you don’t know everything, so how do you know your life—existence, whichever—won’t change? Personally, I think you’re afraid—afraid to try. Maybe even afraid to fail because your enormous ego can’t handle it.”

  “Are you speaking of my place in the universe or of us?” he scathed.

  I gave his question a moment to process. Then I noticed how our bodies were lightly pressed together. Tiny sparks fluttered throughout my body.

  “Y-y-yesss. Matter of fact, I am speaking about us,” I replied with a raspy voice.

  “Did I mention it is very likely that the existence of Payals is accelerating our path toward extinction? That’s right. The gods derive our energy from the life force of the universe, and the farther away we all become from its natural state, the more likely my kind will become sick like Chaam. And if that were to occur, humankind wouldn’t stand a chance. No. I supposed you didn’t think about that, did you, twenty-five-year-old Penelope Trudeau?” His eyes narrowed. “Never confuse ego for wisdom.”

  “You think my existence is going to destroy the world?”

  He looked away and took a small step back. “We are not certain you are a Payal, but yes. They are not meant to exist because gods and humans are not meant to procreate; it is…unnatural.”

  “Then why was Cimil trying to get us to…you know?” I questioned.

  He flashed a cold look in my direction. “She holds different beliefs.”

  Lightbulb! “So, Cimil was using me to make a point.”

  “Yes. But she failed. Because, at the end of the day, her beliefs won’t change reality,” he said.

  Now I had a whole head full of flickering lightbulbs; perhaps Cimil wasn’t so crazy after all. Okay, that was a stretch; she was off her rocker. But point was, she and Kinich were clearly divided on this topic and even if Kinich wanted me, he wouldn’t back down. His ego would never let him.

  Well, there is only one part of a man stronger than his ego…

  His smoldering gaze didn’t waver as I leaned into him and pressed my breasts against his torso. “But what if she’s right?” I whispered. “What if your brother is right, too?” I planted a tiny, lingering kiss on his shoulder. “Maybe I’m the change you’ve been waiting for.”

  “Gods and—and hu—humans, ” he fumbled with his words, “are not compatible.”

  I brushed my lips over the swell of his smooth pectoral, just above his slightly puckered nipple. “Then why are you in love with me?”

  Nick unexpectedly grabbed both my shoulders and leaned down, putting us nose to nose, our lips one inch apart.

  “Who said I’m in love with you?” he snarled.

  I winked. “Wisdom, baby.”

  Before I could utter another word, Kinich was on me hard and fast, his lips pressed forcefully against mine, his hot, strong hands cupping both sides of my face. His tongue slipped past my teeth, and his taste ignited every R-rated dream I’d had of our mystery night together.

  But unlike those dreams, I knew this was reality. And in this reality, I needed him. I needed to feel his skin against mine. I needed to feel him move deep inside me to release that excruciatingly delicious tension relentlessly building.

  “Gods, woman, you drive me crazy,” he said with a gruff voice between breaths.

  I flung my arms around his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist.

  He backed me against the smooth tile wall of the pool and cupped my ass as I savaged his mouth with mine. Wisps of steam snaked from his breath as he thrust himself against my juncture with only the thin fabric of my panties and his shorts between us.

  I inhaled sharply. I wanted to touch him, to feel the thickness of him in my hand. Was he as large as I dreamed?

  I reached into the waist-high water between us and wrapped my fingers around the top of his hard flesh through the fabric of his wet shorts.

  No. He’s larger. I couldn’t even close my hand and it turned me on.

  My mind recalled all of the things I’d dreamt of doing to that enormous part of his anatomy: laving every thick inch of him with my tongue, rubbing the velvety tip of it over my lips, and reveling in his sexually primal groans. These were things I’d never wanted with any man, any man but him.

  And it shocked the heck out of me.

  Not us. We like him! We like him! We like…

  Oh no. The eggs were back.

  Shush, you little troublemakers!

  His hands slid the bra straps from my shoulders and then tugged the wet fabric down to expose my chest. With his chest rapidly rising and falling, he gaped at my breasts, pausing to cup each one and leisurely run his rough thumbs over each hardened nipple.

  A rumbling groan escaped his lips, and I sucked in a breath when the sensation of his fiery touch released waves of warmth between my legs.

  Did he truly believe we weren’t meant to do this? Because it felt pretty damn perfect to me; his hot wet skin against mine; his luscious mouth moving frantically down my neck; the heat of his tongue massaging my aching nipple; and the unbearably hot tension building deep inside.

  Crazy, gorgeous man…

  Suddenly, I was unsure if the water was boiling or preventing me from burning up, but every part of my body felt like it was on fire.

  Nick suddenly pulled away. “Penelope, I must—”

  “No”—I planted frantic kisses over his mouth and continued massaging his deliciously large erection—“don’t you dare stop.”

  He kissed me for a moment longer, thrusting himself against me. “I must go”—he gave me another long, wet kiss—“get the necklace”—he kissed me again—“or we cannot…”

  Oh, the necklace.

  Then a stupid question popped into my mind. “Are you sure about this?” It was a stupid question because my fingers were wrapped tightly aroun
d the evidence of his resolve. But nevertheless, a tiny voice in the back of my mind reminded me how he’d just boldly declared that “we” would never happen.

  To be clear, I’d just realized how badly I wanted “we” to happen.

  He froze and stared deeply into my eyes. “I can think of nothing but bedding you,” he whispered.

  Works for me. “Hurry. Get the necklace.”

  Nick was about to lift himself from the pool when I grabbed his arm. “Wait. Five more seconds.”

  He sank back into the water and hurriedly complied with another hard kiss. His stubble rasped the fragile skin around my lips.

  Once again, I wrapped my arms around his neck. It was getting unbearably hot, but I couldn’t stop. Not even if my life depended on it, which I’m pretty sure it did because he abruptly pushed me away.

  “I’m about to lose control of my energy, and I do not want to cook you.” He flashed a glance toward the sliding glass door across the patio leading to his room. “It’s right there next to my bed.”

  Oh. So that’s what Sun God keeps in his nightstand.

  “Okay. Okay, just hurry. Before…” I panted.

  “Before?”

  “Before I spontaneously orgasm from wanting you so badly.”

  The look in his eyes went from raw lust, to savage hunger to…

  Huh?

  His face turned bright red, flames licked from his eye sockets.

  I winced as his heat singed the drops of water from my wet skin.

  Holy crap! What’s happening?

  He clenched his eyes shut and groaned in agony.

  I wanted to reach for him, to help him, but his skin glowed like a smoldering campfire.

  Then…I glanced up.

  Standing above him at the edge of the pool was a Maaskab. Its eyes were blood-red pools with dark, empty holes in the center. His long black ropes of hair were caked with a brownish red paste—Holy shit! Are those teeth hanging from the ends of those nappy dreads? His body was smeared with black soot, and his loincloth was made of some sort of animal hide—Holy shit! Is that human skin? I didn’t know of many animals that had heart-shaped tattoos with the word Bob in the middle.

  Then the smell hit me. Eau de festering wound mixed with portapotty.