by Anna Edwards
Stuffing my book and pencils back in my backpack, I gingerly rise to my feet. The long white cotton skirt I’m wearing, swirls to my ankles. A cramp makes me moan as it knifes up my legs. I may be fit, but it never seems to help.
Susan chuckles, amused at my pain. “Let’s find a pizzeria. I’m starving, and the pizza here’s amazing.”
She’s done nothing but eat since we got here. Not that I’m complaining, the food is fantastic and far better than anything Italian we have back home. We’ll both be on a diet when the holiday is finished.
Bag resting on my shoulder, I tuck my other arm through hers. “Did I ever tell you that you’re bossy?”
“All the time, but you love me for it.”
My grin matches hers. “Who would have thought we’d ever be rambling around Rome on a girl’s holiday?”
With a tug, she gets us walking in the direction of some restaurants nestled at the end of a street in the distance. “It was about bloody time. We both needed a break from Devon. Don’t get me wrong, I love our village, but nothing ever happens there.” We’re both used to a quiet life. This is more excitement than we’ve had in years. It’s fun. An adventure we won’t forget in a hurry. “And so far, I’m enjoying everything about Italy,” she continues, returning a flirty smile to a couple of tanned, good looking males as they pass us by.
Swatting her hand, I grab her attention. “Hey, no guys, remember, that was the deal.”
I can already feel the beads of sweat crawling down beneath the loose blue cotton t-shirt I’m wearing. The only escapes are the air-conditioned shops or our hotel room.
“Yes, I know,” Susan grumbles with a regretful sigh. “It doesn’t mean I can’t admire them, though.”
A ten-minute walk and we’re at a busy touristy place. Rome is full of them. All catering for people on the go as they sightsee and relax. There’s an old-world charm about the place. Crowded tables, with checkered red and white table cloths, bustling with hungry patrons. Waiters, sweeping past, juggle plates with a long-practiced ease only earned over time. Catching the eye of one, we’re directed toward a table in a corner. It’s out of the way. Intimate. A place we can people watch without being noticed. Something I’ve always loved to do.
Dropping my bag by my feet, I sit resting my chin on the heel of my hand, and with my elbow on the table. Slowly, I examine the crowd. So many faces. All different ages, and to my artist's eye, I see so many possibilities. Each one has a story to tell. Fingers itching to draw, I resist the urge. Not everyone likes to be immortalized on paper. It’s something I’ve learned from experience. Susan would also kill me.
“Margarita?” she suggests as she leafs through the menu. “I just adore how the cheese is melted, and those fresh tomatoes are to die for, and we’ll get some local wine.”
“Sounds good,” I agree absently, my attention sweeping back to her only to be hooked on something at a table further down.
Dark, handsome, the man’s features are more breathtaking than I’ve ever seen before. He’s more beautiful than any painting or sculpture. There’s a strength to him that’s more than skin deep. A power that radiates from within. He has a strong, square jaw, cleanly shaved, and his looks put every other male in the place to shame. With lips that are firm and kissable, he bears the Mediterranean allure. A sexy sensuality in every line of his muscled frame beneath his expensive business suit. Déjà vu hits me hard. He’s so familiar, but I know he has a face I would never forget. There’s no way we’ve met before. If we had, I know he would have been unforgettable. Boisterously loud, his laughter when he throws back his head and chuckles sends a primitive need right down to my feminine core. I find myself transfixed. Mesmerized with an ache just to reach out and touch him. Watching the muscles work in his throat as he takes a drink, a shaky breath escapes me.
“Vicky are you ok? Your cheeks are really flushed.” Susan’s voice barely registers. “I think you got a little too much sun.”
Unable to reply, I just keep staring. Why can’t I stop? It’s like my eyes have a mind of their own. My body heats up, and I know it has nothing to do with the summer weather. How can one guy send my libido spinning? Squirming in place, I press my thighs together to alleviate the hunger that’s pulsing in my pussy.
“Earth to Vicky.” A hand wiggling in my face snaps me from my daze. Susan frowns at me, her large brown eyes troubled. “Are you ok?”
Looking down, I realize our pizzas and drinks have arrived. “Yes, sorry, I got a bit distracted.” With a more than obvious glance over her shoulder, my friend scopes out the source of my drooling.
“Holy shit, that guy’s hot,” she mutters. “No wonder you spaced out. Maybe he’s a model or something. He sure has the looks.”
Scooping up a slice from my plate, I keep my gaze down. There’s no way I want to get sucked in to whatever just happened before. Thank god, he never caught me staring. Warmth blooms in my cheeks just at the thought. He’s probably here with his wife or girlfriend. Not that I noticed anyone else at his table. No, I’m just sat here gawking like a freaking idiot.
Munching on the end of my pizza, I can’t stop the small moan of delight. I’ll definitely miss this, along with all the sights, when we fly home in six days’ time.
“He’s looking over,” Susan suddenly hisses as she twists back round to face me, her excitement clear.
My eyes flick up. I can’t help it. Breath stuttering in my lungs, I find my gaze locked with a pair of deep pools of chocolate brown. They’re so deep, so intense, I find myself trapped. Hunger flashes across his face and just as suddenly vanishes beneath an icy look of reserve.
One second I’m a prisoner, the next I’m free of his stare. It’s only then I realize I’m still holding a slice of half eaten pizza against my lips. My other hand has a death grip on the edge of the table so tight my knuckles are white. Loosening my grasp, I let go of the surface.
“What the fuck just happened?” Susan whispers between bites of her food. “That was like...I don’t know what, but the whole atmosphere in the place changed. It was kind of hot and weird all at the same time.”
Discarding the slice, I curl my fingers around my glass. After that, I need a drink or two.
“I don’t know,” I managed to croak before lifting my drink and taking a long gulp. The fruity flavored wine is welcome. Something to settle my nerves. What appetite I had has deserted me. Everything inside me is a jumble. I don’t know why. How can one look affect me so much? Who is he? Some business man in for an early lunch? Passing through Rome, maybe, for pleasure. Chancing a peek, I see his back is to me. His shoulders are so broad, giving a woman something to cling on to when her legs are wrapped around his lean, perfect hips.
An image of tanned, muscular limbs entwined with my paler ones’ flashes through my head. His body covering mine as he takes me over and over. I almost groan, hearing his imaginary masculine moans of satisfaction while his cock slides into me. Sipping more wine, I’m on the verge of having an orgasm at the table as the erotic fantasy continues to reel through my head. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Oh my god, what if he comes over?” Susan whispers.
Just the thought has my breathing turn shallower. Observing him at a distance is one thing, but I’m not sure my body would cope with seeing him up close. Movement catches my eye. For a second, I hold my breath expectantly. However, tall, confident, and without even a backward glance, the stranger stalks toward the door and out onto the street. Relief floods me, but the disappointment is sharp, and I’m not sure why. For a second, he pauses. He doesn’t turn just stops, and then in a heartbeat, he vanishes into the passing traffic.
Tension oozes from my shoulders. I feel drained, yet still oddly restless and uneasy. Whoever he was, he invoked lust and fear in equal measure. He may be gone, but I know his features are something that, strangely, are going to haunt me.
Chapter Three
MARS
I materialize back in my office and lean against the k
notted oak desk before inhaling sharply. There was no doubt the woman I’ve just been watching is a goddess. The power surrounding her was overwhelming. When she looked directly at me, I felt none of the war I usually have waging in my head, only peace and love. It had taken my breath away, and I had to leave before I went over to her, bent her over the table and sunk my cock deep within her.
My father had given the names of three people that I needed to investigate as potential human gods. The first two men showed no signs–if they had any power, it was so far hidden in their psyche that it was lost forever. The final girl, however, she was an entirely different story.
“Any luck?” My father walks into my office unannounced. He has a habit of doing that.
“I can remove two men from the list, but I think the girl’s a definite possibility.”
My father cocks his head to the side as he regards me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head.
“Mars?” It’s the authoritative tone of my childhood. The one that had me freeze when I was caught stealing the last cookie from the tin. My now strong form doesn’t reflect the number of times I was caught doing it.
“She’s powerful. I only just made it away without causing a scene?” I reluctantly answer.
“Scene?”
“Fucked her in the middle of a packed restaurant.”
He nods. “Yes, that would have caused quite the commotion, which we don’t need.” My father takes a seat. “Does she have any idea of what she is?”
I shake my head.
“Pluto?”
“I didn’t see him or any of his cronies. Doesn’t mean that they aren’t on to her, though. She exudes power. It wouldn’t surprise me if there were a bright neon beacon above her, flashing that she was a goddess. Such was the power passing between us when she looked into my eyes. Pluto or Orcus will feel her and find her soon.”
“You need to go back and protect her. It’s too soon to tell her what she is. We have to take it slowly. The women are always the emotional ones.”–he rolls his eyes– “Befriend her.”
“Lie to her you mean.” I snort with derision.
“You tell her outright what she is, and she’ll run and alert herself to Pluto. She’ll think you’re insane.”
“Even if I show her what I can do?” I hold my arm out, and in a puff of smoke, a sharp metal spear appears within my hand.
My father chuckles.
“Your brother tried that once….it didn’t go down well.”–he winces–“Nasty incident, spears really aren’t meant to go where the sun doesn’t shine.”
I force my spear to vanish into mid-air and shudder. “He never told me that.” I chuckle.
“You would’ve teased him.”
“Hell, yes I would have.”
“That’s exactly why you weren’t told.” My father looks up at me with frustration. “Befriending her is the only way. She has to trust you before you can tell her what she is.”
“Fine,” I agree. I don’t particularly like lying. It goes against my whole nature as a lawyer. Well, actually that isn’t true. As a solicitor, I lie most days to get people acquitted of crimes they’ve so obviously committed and have no remorse for, but that’s why I’m one of the best.
“I’ll put the standard observation on her, but the rest is up to you. If she’s as powerful as you say, then we can’t afford to lose her. We lost Minerva to Pluto, recently. I’ve no idea what she’s suffering at his hands, but I won’t rest until I find her. This woman could be one of the powerful goddesses we’re still missing. She could help us bring peace and more stability to Rome. You’ve said yourself the gods we’ve found, thus far, are the ones of chaos. War rages inside your head. It has no balance in this world, yet. There’s no sense of wisdom and love to counteract the hatred.”
“Venus?” I interrupt.
“You sensed a great power. If she’s your equal in this fight, then it will affect you.”
“I’ll do all I can to protect her.” I stand up taller and place my hand on my heart. It’s a vow between us both with unspoken truth in the vehemence of the declaration.
My father waves his hand to dismiss me, and I dissipate only to reform where I feel the girl strongest. She invades my every pore when I reappear into the warm evening air of Rome. The city is still bustling with people, heading to dinner or back home after sampling the delights of pizza and pasta. The variety of languages I can hear are as big a cacophony as the ones that flood my head from around the world when I choose to let the cries in. Americans, with a rich twang, call out about the beauty of the city, the British bemoan the fact the weather isn’t this warm back home, and Japanese tourists talk loudly into live videos about what they’re seeing. The odd Italian dialect captures my ear with discussions about what delightful food they’ll sample tonight. I chuckle as a French couple walk past, and he declares his undying love for his partner only for her to blush and tell him to save it for the bedroom. As much as I like listening to the characters of the city, I have a job to do. Looking around, I spot the woman from earlier with her friend. They’re by the Spanish Steps, and she’s hunched over a pad of paper, feverishly sketching. Her friend is chatting animatedly to two gentlemen. I don’t need to be a god to understand what they're thinking while talking to the girl. It’s evident from the bulge in both their jeans.
Befriend her, my father said. I can do that. It’s not like I’m the God of War or anything, and people cower in fear at my presence. Have I mentioned lately I can be an arrogant and demanding sod at times? It’s in my nature, can’t help it, and won’t ever change.
Talk to her. Say, hi. That’s how people start up conversations, isn’t it? Right. Fuck! I’m no good at this, which is why my father typically sends Hercules to do this sort of thing. He’s all long, beautiful flowing hair and stunning looks. Plus, he can bench press half of the people sitting on these steps with one finger. I can probably do that, but I’d start a fight by even trying. A woman pushes a man and tells him to, ‘get lost’. He accuses her of cheating on him, and she responds by saying if he can’t trust her, then their relationship is over. I groan loudly, forgetting I’m pretty much standing directly behind the woman from earlier. She looks up at the commotion and then around to me. Her eyes widen like a rabbit in headlights.
“Hi.” She squeaks and quickly looks around for her friend who's taken a seat with the two men chatting her up.
“Ciao,” I respond trying to play it cool, but the second she’d looked at me, I could feel her power again. It captures me in a cocoon, making me want to act like a rambling idiot and fall at her feet in worship. I swallow deeply. “Nice picture.” I nod my head toward the drawing she has open in her sketchbook.
“It’s the steps,” she replies, and her cheeks blush bright red. I hear her mutter under her breath about the ‘stating the obvious’ reply. “Way to play it cool, Vicky. Just look like a right idiot in front of the hot man.”
“They’re good. I like the fact you don’t have a lot of details on the people only the movement of them coming and going.” Her picture’s actually pretty good. It looks like the crowd is in motion.
“Thank you.” She blushes again.
“You were in the restaurant earlier.” I try to be to the point, now, hoping it’ll put her at ease.
“I was. Great food, my first proper Italian pizza.”
“I’m glad you liked it. That restaurant is one of my favorites.”
“Really?”–She looks me up and down– “You don’t look much like a pizza and pasta man.” “Damn it,” she hisses under her breath. “Stop being such a dork.”
“I get a lot of exercise.”
She opens and closes her mouth like a fish, and I can see she isn’t sure how to respond to my comment. It was actually meant perfectly innocently, but given her mind is apparently in the gutter when she looks at me, its sexual connotations haven’t gone unnoticed.
We go silent. I look over at her friend.
The two men she’s with are starting to get a bit handsy with her. She’s trying to get up and away from them.
“What’s your friend’s name?” I ask. The artist who I now know to be Vicky, thanks to her mumbling, turns her head toward her friend.
“Susan,” she replies with worry in her voice.
“Susan, bambina,” I shout and wink at her. The other woman looks up at the sound of her name, the two guys follow her gaze. “Sorry I’m late, you coming or not? I’m ready for that threesome you and blondie here promised me.”
Everyone sitting nearby stops their conversations and looks at us. The two guys pale when I puff myself up to full stature. I’m twice the size of both of them put together. Gods have great genes.
“Handsome,” Susan calls back. “I thought you’d left us.” In two seconds, she’s up and away from the other two men. She’s breathless and frightened. I can feel it coming from every pore. As she gets closer, she places her arm through mine. Vicky has quickly packed up her art equipment and slung her bag over her shoulder. She too tucks her arm into mine.
“You're just rescuing my friend, right?” she asks as we turn away from the Spanish Steps and slip down through the street of Via dei Condotti. “You aren’t taking us for a real threesome.”
Susan chuckles and squeezes my arm. “I don’t know, a threesome with him seems better than with those two perverts. Do you know what they said to me?”
“Keep walking.” I groan inwardly. The heat coming from where Vicky has her skin against mine is burning. We finally reach the other end of the street and safety. I pull away from both of the women and rub my scalded arm. “You should be careful who you talk to. I’m afraid there are people around who like to pray on the tourists even in public places.” I frown at the auburn-haired girl.
“Sorry,” she says while twirling a strand of hair around her finger. I look down at my watch. It’s only ten pm, but something tells me these two will be safer back in their hotel.
