Athena's Daughter

by Juli Page Morgan

  Tossing him a hot smile full of promise, she turned around and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear. Still letting the music move her, she lowered the panties inch by inch, feeling his heated gaze on her skin. When she reached her knees, she bent forward to remove the last of her clothing, and heard him draw in his breath with a hiss, followed by a low growl, “Damn, angel.”

  The sound went straight between her legs, and she started to quiver. She stepped out of her panties and stood upright, looking over her shoulder and dangling the undergarments in front of him. From the look on his face, it was like waving a red flag at a bull. Hunger made the muscles in his cheeks tense, and beneath his moustache she saw his lips press together in a tight line. With a low laugh, she tossed the panties at him.

  Lacing her hands together across the juncture of her thighs, she faced him once more, reveling in the way his eyes devoured every inch of her body. Moving forward, she stood over his outstretched legs and let her hands fall away from where his gaze was fixated. Athena lifted her hair off the back of her neck, and let her head roll on her shoulders as she danced for him. Her skin felt ultra-sensitive, just waiting for the touch of his warm hands, his calloused fingers, his hot mouth.

  In the next instant his feet nudged her ankles further apart, spreading her legs wider for him. She looked down to see him wriggling out of his shirt with determination. His breath came in urgent pants and a light sheen of perspiration gleamed on his forehead.

  Derek flung his shirt aside and grasped Athena’s hips to pull her closer. His hands slid over her ass as he pressed his lips to the bare skin of her belly and started downward until he reached his goal.

  A deep moan was wrenched from her at the touch of his tongue. Electric shocks of pleasure jolted through her and left her vibrating with anticipation. Somehow her hands were tangled in his hair, holding his head tight as he tripped her out. Just when she was on the brink, he stood up and captured her mouth with his.

  Reaching down, she opened his jeans with trembling fingers and pushed them down. Derek groaned into her mouth as she took him in both hands, squeezing and stroking that magnificent hardness trapped between her palms.

  Derek kicked his jeans from his feet and half-carried, half-walked Athena backward until her calves came into contact with the low couch. She lowered herself onto it, pulling Derek down on top of her. With no hesitation he plunged into her, her name a caress on his lips.

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned, and arched against him to meet his urgent thrusts. The climax that had built in her before now exploded. She writhed under him, sharp cries of pleasure escaping her throat.

  “That’s right, angel,” Derek panted in her ear. “That’s it. Damn, you feel so good when you come on me.”

  That soft purr threw her over the edge again, and she clung to his shoulders as her release surged through her like molten honey. Shudders still wracked her as Derek grew still, his warm weight pushing her into the scratchy surface of the couch. Gentle fingers smoothed her hair back from her forehead, and she opened her eyes to his tender blue gaze.

  “That was some kind of beautiful,” he murmured.

  “Mm-hm.” Athena ran a finger over the silky, damp hair of his moustache. A smile of promise curved her lips. “Now it’s your turn.”

  Derek’s answering smile could be described by no other word than naughty. “Not yet,” he whispered, and moved against her in a sinuous squirm. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this. I haven’t even begun to fuck you yet.”

  A quivering gasp of anticipation was wrenched from her as he drew back and then rammed into her again before he froze deep within her. His smile widened as he stared down at her.

  “Hang on, angel. It’s going to be a wild night.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  It did not bode well for the day when the simple act of lying still in the bed with eyes closed brought about excruciating pain and roiling nausea. Moving with extreme care, Athena raised her arms and grasped her head in both hands to keep it from rolling off the pillow and bouncing on the floor.

  “Jesus God,” she whispered, and was immediately sorry. Soft as it was, her voice reverberated in her skull like a gong. She needed to go back to sleep and not wake up until…

  Good grief, what time was it?

  Face scrunched in a grimace of trepidation, she cracked her eyes open and winced at the muted sunlight that peeked in around the closed curtains of her bedroom window. The only time the light came through her windows like that was early morning. Damn it, early morning was not on the agenda after the amount of wine she’d consumed the night before.

  Curiosity about the hour got the better of her, and she used her hands to turn her head toward the alarm clock on the nightstand. Instead of a clock, she beheld the tousled head of Derek Marshall on the pillow next to hers. Oh, dear God.

  A whiff of something odd pushed her nausea, her pounding head, and the beautiful man in her bed aside. Brows furrowed, she pulled a hank of her hair under her nose and took a bigger sniff. Chlorine. They had been in the pool? A fragment of memory came creeping back in and a blush suffused her whole body when she remembered that yes, they had indeed been in the pool. As sexy and uninhibited as it sounded, it proved unsatisfactory. That is, until Derek lifted her from the water and sat her on the edge. Still floating below her, he spread her legs wide and…

  The throbbing in her head intensified as the flood gates opened and the whole night came roaring back, the memory tinged with the fuzzy edges of inebriation. After the pool, they came back into the house where they had …

  Athena sighed. She was going to have to do a thorough job of sanitizing the kitchen table. Worth it, though. Then after the kitchen interlude they came into Athena’s bedroom where Derek got really inventive. Thinking about it made her squirm a little which made her aware of the fact that she was sore between her legs. Not a painful kind of sore, but a pleasurable one. One that made her wonder if sex cured hangovers. She glanced over at Derek again, and thought the theory was worth testing.

  Raising up on one elbow, she regarded him with optimism. He wouldn’t mind being woken up to have sex, right? Especially not if they were going to make medical history.

  Huh. Her new position was kind of uncomfortable. It wasn’t doing her stomach any favors, that was for sure. The thought of sex was driven from her mind, replaced by the urgent need to get to the bathroom as soon as possible.

  She didn’t remember leaving the bed, but she was very aware of kneeling before the toilet as the contents of her stomach came up at roughly the speed of light. When it was over, she reached up, eyes still closed, and pushed down the flush before collapsing on the floor. She lay shivering on the cold tiles, and recalled that the last time she’d knelt on the bathroom floor hugging the toilet in the early morning it had also been Derek Marshall’s fault. That thought made her eyes pop open and was enough to propel her to her feet.

  She stumbled to the medicine cabinet and fumbled her birth control pills onto the counter. Telling him about Elizabeth had been hard. Explaining another baby would be impossible.

  Her head resumed its pounding – or maybe it had never quit – and after she swallowed her pill, she shook three aspirins into her hand before washing them down with a gulp of water from the faucet. Maybe her stomach would accept medicine since it had put the brakes on sex as a cure.

  She needed a shower. Now that she was up and moving, she could smell Derek all over her along with the chlorine in her hair. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. All she could think about was getting back to the bed, laying her head on the pillow and drifting back into oblivion. She would deal with the rest of her life when she wasn’t dying.

  The next time she woke, the light in the room was brighter but not as immediate, and she could tell several hours had passed. Other than a lingering tenderness, her stomach felt okay, and the pounding in her head was gone. She had no desire to get up and dance the Twist, but at least she did think she might
live.

  A whiffling snore let her know Derek was still sleeping it off next to her. Now that she was reasonably sure that sex would not cure hangovers, she resisted the urge to wake him. Besides, with the residual alcohol cleansed from her system, a cloud of uncertainty colored her feelings. Last night was amazing, but she wasn’t sure how things would stand in the light of day.

  Athena rose from the bed, showered and dressed. After leaving the bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand next to Derek, she made her way into the kitchen and started the coffee. A glance out the pass-through revealed strewn clothing, an empty wine bottle on its side, sofa pillows littering the floor, and a light glowing on the stereo receiver that hadn’t been turned off. All of it highlighted by the cheery sunlight flooding through the French doors. It looked like the common room of a frat house at Memphis State the morning after the Tigers football team won a championship game.

  The breakfast nook was no better with the plastic yellow placemats littering the floor, and chairs askew. She still had trouble believing they’d really had sex on the kitchen table, but she had a clear memory of lying supine, impaled on Derek’s erection as he stared down at her with smoldering eyes.

  What the hell was in that wine, anyway?

  Sighing, Athena went into the den and turned off the stereo, and put the couch back together, blushing a little when she remembered the activities that dislodged the cushions in the first place. She picked up the wine bottle, and feeling a little foolish, held the top to her nose and sniffed. No overwhelming scent of opiates or other mind-altering substances were evident, just the slightly sour odor of fermentation. Okay; so maybe the wine was only partly to blame for the debauchery that took place the night before.

  Gathering up the glasses, she carried them and the bottle to the kitchen, and then returned to the den to pick up their clothes. Everything was in plain sight with the exception of her panties, and she had to conduct a search before she located them five feet behind the chair where Derek had been sitting. Well, that first time they were both in a bit of a hurry.

  Her feet dragged a bit as she entered the bedroom with the armload of clothes, but Derek was still snoring away. She deposited her clothing in the laundry hamper in her closet, and folded Derek’s neatly before placing them on the bathroom counter next to the sink. Maybe he’d find them there with no trouble.

  Athena was working on her second cup of coffee when the distant flush of the toilet heralded the fact that Derek was awake. Heart pounding, she curled up a little tighter into the corner of the couch and waited for him to make an appearance.

  After a few moments, he shuffled into the kitchen, and her spirits dropped a little when she observed that he had buttoned his shirt. Face creased with misery, he went straight for the coffee and poured a cup before glancing around.

  “I’m in here.” Remembering the gong-like intensity of her whisper during her early morning experience, she was careful to keep her voice low. It still made him jump, and he brought his hand to his head with a grimace of pain. After a sip of coffee, he glanced out into the den in her general direction.

  “Good morning,” he muttered, and his eyes immediately skittered away again. Athena’s spirits drooped even lower. When he headed for the breakfast nook she spoke up again.

  “I wouldn’t sit there. I haven’t had a chance to wipe down the table yet.”

  For a moment he stood frowning down at the furniture in question, as though trying to make sense of her words. It was obvious when his memory circuits fired by the way his eyes widened. She noted the faint flush on his cheeks when he sent a nervous glance her way.

  “Oh. Right,” he murmured, backing away from the table. He made his way into the den, negotiating the step down with the care of a hip replacement patient, and sat in the chair he’d occupied the night before.

  “How’s your head?” she asked.

  He took a sip of coffee and frowned into the cup. “I have high hopes that it might return to normal by next week. Thanks for the aspirin, by the way.”

  “No problem.”

  An uncomfortable silence fell between them, and a rising sense of disappointment threatened to overwhelm her. She noted the way he refused to meet her eyes, his stiff posture and the stern, almost forbidding set of his face. Some of that might be attributed to his hangover, but his actions were not those of a man who held fond memories of the things they did to each other the night before.

  Just when she thought she couldn’t bear it another minute, Derek got to his feet and went back into the kitchen. The sound of running water came to her ears as he rinsed out his coffee cup, followed in short order by the soft slap of his feet on the tiles.

  He re-entered the den, but went straight to the French doors. Turning halfway toward where she sat, he took a deep breath.

  “I’m going to go shower and soak my head for a while.”

  “Okay,” she replied, her voice thin with strain. “See you later.”

  “Yeah.”

  The closing of the door behind him had a sound of finality that sent a bolt of pain into Athena’s midsection. She curled into herself protectively and tried to stifle the sob that rose in her throat. Well, she had her answer now, and knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that making a move was a huge mistake.

  It was a mistake she’d never make again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Having a Friday afternoon off work was a novelty, and Athena skipped out the back door of the store with a light heart, like a kid let out of school early. She didn’t know what made Rondall decide to spend some time at work, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. There was still so much to do at the house; she was more than a little tired of having things in disarray, and looked forward to doing some organizing and straightening. If Derek would keep Elizabeth at the guest house it would help a lot.

  But when she arrived home, Derek made an excuse and ducked out the back door. Elizabeth didn’t protest; since her return from Nashville Monday afternoon she had been giving her father the wounded silent treatment to punish him for his impending work commitments, and tended to avoid him as much as she could. This behavior wasn’t helping the situation between her parents, either, and the tension in the household was growing more crushing every day.

  After spending the previous Friday night screwing each other’s brains out, Derek and Athena had barely spoken except to exchange information about their daughter. Athena’s last hope that something might come of their night of passion was squashed when Derek actually apologized for what happened. At least, she thought he did. He rambled on in a very confused manner about being drunk and not in control. She was quite sure he’d uttered the word ‘sorry,’ and that was all she needed to hear. In a quiet voice she agreed with whatever it was he said, and that was that.

  So she wasn’t disappointed when he went back to his guest house, but she was disappointed he left Elizabeth with her. Elizabeth, however, showed no inclination to get in her mother’s way, and stated she was going to her room to play with Barbies.

  “Are you sure, munchkin?” Now that her daughter wasn’t going to be underfoot, Athena felt the urge to have her there. “I’m going to be rearranging stuff in the cabinets in the den, and there are some old pictures in there I think you might like.”

  “Nope.” Elizabeth skipped toward the stairs. “Uncle Donnie and Aunt Aimee got me some new Barbie clothes when I was in Nashbill, and I want to play dress up with my talking P.J.”

  “Okay, then. Have fun.” If Elizabeth was going to play with the P.J. doll she’d gotten for her birthday in May, Athena was more than happy to have her keep it in her room. If she heard that thing say, “Wow, you’re the grooviest!” one more time, she was going to snip the string at the back of its neck. And then strangle the doll with it.

  Alone at last, Athena settled in front of the cabinet containing her high school yearbooks, the box of England memorabilia, and an assortment of stuff that was crammed in when she couldn’
t take time to put it away properly. She began by pulling everything out and sorting it into piles. Once it was organized, she put it all back in a much more tidy fashion. There! Now she could look into the cabinet and see what it contained instead of getting irritated by a big mess.

  She closed the cabinet doors and turned to the P.F. Flyers box she’d set aside. She wanted to have copies made of all the photos, and she planned to start with the ones of her with Derek. Elizabeth might be acting indifferent to him now, but Athena knew that when Derek left, her little girl would be bereft. She hoped the pictures might help when the time came.

  Arming herself with a pen and extra envelopes, Athena settled onto the couch and started going through the stack of photos. As she’d thought, it took a while since she labeled each one on the back, and spent some time laughing and even crying a little over them. The images transported her back to that magical summer and the people she’d met and loved.

  There was Vanessa with her shaggy black hair and mischievous eyes. Did she ever become a painter the way she planned? A snap of the exterior of Apple Records brought a snicker at the memory of singing to Paul McCartney, and a twinge at the thought that The Beatles were no more.

  The majority of pictures were of Wolf, and these she lingered longest over. There were live shots from the shows they’d played, but most of them were candids, and these were the ones that made her cry. She had spent seven years refusing to let herself remember any of it, but the images in her hand brought back every silly joke, every amazing concert, each hasty meal, and all the love they’d shared. And speaking of love…

  The tears fell hot and fast as she looked at all the pictures of Derek and the ones of the two of them together. They had loved each other so much, and that love was so prevalent in the pictures that it hit her like a physical punch. She would never try to excuse her actions in regard to Elizabeth, but she still couldn’t believe that Derek didn’t love her any more since he’d loved her so completely at one time. There was no way she could not love him.