Filthy Gods_American Gods

by R. Scarlett

  “You’re being such a good girl, Juliette. So pliant to my desires and demands.”

  He took his wet finger out of my mouth, thumb lightly caressing along my jaw before his hand disappeared behind me once more.

  “You know, I used to imagine cornering you against a bookshelf in the library and taking you…like this, exposed and raw and with no restraint,” he hissed through his teeth. “Do you want me to take you, Juliette? Do you want to know what I feel like inside of you?”

  He flicked my clit and a breathy moan ripped through me.

  He was already inside of me.

  Consuming me.

  Burning me.

  He had been for years and now I was laid out in front of him to feast on.

  “Yes,” I breathed out.

  I heard the tear of foil and him shuffling, but then he paused. “I’m clean. Are you on the pill?”

  I nodded, my chest rising up and down rapidly.

  “Raw then. Nothing but our skin,” he whispered.

  I didn’t want to tell him that I had never had anyone bare inside of me. It would just go to his head and further his ego.

  Then I felt his blunt head at my entrance and my nails dug deep into the cushions.

  One hand gripped my hip while the other one held his length, slowly pressing deeper and deeper inside of me.

  When he bottomed out at my cervix, I gasped and I heard him grit his teeth.

  “It’s been a long time coming, Juliette. Us, this, my cock filling you up so good. Finally, we’re dealing with this energy between us,” he said as his cock slid out slowly before slamming back in, holding nothing back. My body rocked forward against the couch, hips digging into the fabric.

  Then, he started slow, measured strokes and I wished I could see his ass, flexing as he took me.

  “You’re so wet, so close,” he whispered and he was right. “All I had to do was arouse you with my words and you became undone.”

  I arched my back, fighting against him. I wasn’t going to just let him use me; I was going to earn my own climax myself.

  I glanced back at him, seeing his eyes narrowed and dark and heated, sweat beading on his thick brows wrinkled into a scowl.

  He let a smirk kiss his mouth when I looked back at him. Cocky as ever.

  But he must have caught my own fierce expression because he quickened his strokes, his hand sliding down my stomach and finding my core, strumming me.

  I felt it approaching, the hot, dizzy spell taking over me and I dug my nails into his arms, hoping to draw blood. Because this was a battle. A war between sworn enemies.

  I came first, the energy filling every limb of my body. On a war cry, he pulled out, spraying his cum across my ass and down my legs, jerking ruthlessly against me.

  He stroked my quivering slit one last time, mixing his cum with my own wetness. “No more—I can’t.”

  He laughed darkly behind me and when I almost collapsed on the couch, his arm held me up, turning me around so we finally faced each other. I was trapped against his sweaty torso.

  Both our heaving chests warred against the other and I caught my breath.

  In the darkness, I saw Nathaniel Radcliffe’s rare smile. His white teeth bright and straight. The smile of a winner, someone who got exactly what they wanted.

  I hated to admit it, but that had been the best sex of my life.

  After another two rounds, I collapsed against the white sheets of his bed and told myself I’d get up in a minute.

  The breeze blew over my bare leg and I stirred, blinking at the brightness seeping in the room.

  Nathaniel’s room.

  My heart froze and I glanced around. Seeing the suite in daylight, all white and crisp and pristine—made me feel out of place.

  I looked over my shoulder to see Nathaniel laying on the other side of the bed.

  His usually slicked-back hair was tousled and his perfect mouth slightly parted. No frown rested between his brows. Watching Nathaniel sleep made him feel more real; he looked more like a man than ever before.

  He was exposed, vulnerable and I drank it up. No mocking words or smug smiles sent my way. Only a man caught between sleep. Defenseless against me.

  I had pictured what he would look like for once without his defenses as I competed against him.

  Rolling my lip between my teeth, I sighed in pleasure.

  Only in these moments would I see a glimpse of something human. He was too conceited, too arrogant to expose the true person behind the allure of a god.

  I slid out of bed, gathering my clothes and shoes, and tiptoed out. It was only quarter to five am, but I needed to be back in my own bed, or my roommates would question my absence.

  Walking in the rising sunlight through the powerful manor made me feel invincible and sick to my stomach. I had slept with Nathaniel Radcliffe last night and enjoyed it too much.

  When I entered the tiny cottage where I stayed with four other girls, Mandy, already dressed in her white outfit, glowered at me.

  “Where were you?” She cocked her hip.

  I brushed my hair back and tied it up into a high ponytail. “I went for a run.”

  Mandy’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t come back here last night.”

  My stomach twisted. “I did.”

  Mandy continued to stare at me as I fixed my blouse. I wouldn’t be able to change now and I’d have to wear the clothes I wore yesterday, or she’d question me further.

  Danielle walked past us. “You guys ready?”

  I nodded and ignored Mandy’s cool gaze the entire walk back to the manor. If she found out I slept with Mrs. Hawthorne’s son, I wasn’t sure what she would do. She would think I was using sex to get the reference.

  The entire day I worked, avoiding the guests as much as possible. I thought over my deal with Nathaniel. If we were to get caught, he wouldn’t lose anything, but I would. I would lose my job and a chance at getting a powerful reference for my future. It would probably ruin my reputation at school too. But I couldn’t deny how good his hands had felt on my hips, in my hair, inside of me. So deep inside of me. Or how his words lit a fire that wouldn’t burn out.

  He was right about one thing.

  We needed to rid ourselves of each other. I couldn’t carry on the rest of my time at Yale distracted by Nathaniel. Once I kicked the need out of me by the end of summer, I could move on and focus.

  “Ms. Monroe.” A voice called to me as I carried a change of white towels in my arms. I turned to see Mrs. Hawthorne standing at the front entrance with a couple and two preteens, both distracted by their cell phones.

  I approached them, with a shaky smile. I snuck a quick glance at Mrs. Hawthorne and her dark eyes scorched across my skin. Sizing me up.

  “Would you be so kind to show Senator Scott where the bar is?” she asked, her voice just as calm and smooth as her son’s. “He’s a dear family friend.”

  Great. Just peachy.

  I smiled at her, shifting the towels in my arms. “Of course.”

  She nodded and turned to the wife and children, escorting them away.

  I turned to Senator Scott. He looked to be in his mid-forties with gray peppering his dark hair. He was tall and lean, dressed in a polo shirt and khaki pants and brown loafers.

  “You can call me Daniel,” he said, reaching out to shake my hand.

  I fumbled with the towels but managed to shake his hand. His fingers slid across the edge of my palm as I pulled back. I glanced up at him, only to find him grinning down at me.

  “Please follow me, Senator,” I said, keeping my voice leveled as I turned away. He, at first walked behind me for a moment and then appeared at my side, grinning even wider.

  “I’m a Senator for California.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching me.

  I nodded, uncomfortable under his gaze. He was looking at me like he was undressing me.

  He bent his head lower as if trying to get a better look at my face. “How old are you?”

&n
bsp; “Twenty,” I said, trying to sound pleasant, but professional. If he found me rude, he could complain to Mrs. Hawthorne.

  “And you’re in school?”

  I held my head high. “Yale. Going into my fourth year for pre law.”

  He whistled at that and looked down at me. “I went to Yale. Years ago, but I don’t recall such beautiful women like you there.”

  I held back from cringing at his words. He had a wife and two kids. Why was he acting this way? Jackass.

  As we walked through the manor, past a few men returning from golfing, I felt the back of my neck grow hot. When we made it to the bar, I smiled at him and turned, only for his hand to snake around my wrist.

  I stared at his hand, large palm engulfing me.

  “Don’t be in such a rush, darling.” He scoffed and searched through his suit jacket pocket. Slowly, he pulled out a wad of bills, plucking fifties out as if to impress me. “Here. For your precious time.” He extended his hand, a fifty in his palm.

  “Not needed, sir. It was a pleasure talking to you,” I said, pressing a faint smile on my mouth and stepping back.

  “Oh c’mon,” he whined, stepping closer. “Just fifteen minutes of your time.”

  I shook my head and turned away, walking fast. I didn’t want him to chase me.

  I wiped my hands on my skirt, feeling dirty. The way he looked at me was like he wanted to devour me. I shivered.

  After that, the rest of the day went by quickly and I successfully avoided Nathaniel.

  As I made my way back to the cottages, Peter, one of the waiters, stopped me. “We need extra help tonight in the dining hall. Can you fill in?”

  I rubbed my hands across my skirt and glanced back at the white brick cottages shadowed by willow trees. My only escape. My only oasis here.

  I sighed. “Sure.”

  Just like the girls, the male staff wore white polo shirts and shorts, but at dinner time, a white suit jacket and white pants. I was told it was to keep the classic look to the country club and to make everyone perform as not to ruin their clothes.

  I served wine to all the guests seated, smiling politely, making sure not to interrupt their conversations.

  And then my stomach dropped.

  Before me, in the bay window, sat Nathaniel, wearing a dark suit jacket, so dark against his tanned olive skin.

  His eyes caught mine and I watched as his hand on the table curled into a fist.

  Just like that, his eyes set me on fire and made my legs tremble, my core throbbing and aching for him to fill me again.

  But he wasn’t alone.

  A blonde wasp sat across from him, reaching her hand out to cover his clenched one. I felt numb as I swallowed my pride and moved forward, the wine bottle shaking in my grip.

  We hadn’t said anything about being exclusive, I reminded myself.

  With the doors to the many balconies left opened, the summer night breeze blew through but did nothing to calm me. If anything, it rattled my temper further.

  I smiled at her, but the girl was too focused on Nathaniel sitting across from her to register my presence.

  Nathaniel’s calculating gaze took me in and I knew, by the same way he looked at me before a debate, he was trying to understand me before I even understood myself.

  I wanted to pour the red wine down his perfect white suit and watch his perfect composure break.

  I shook myself out of it. This wasn’t anything. Nothing was between us, but anger and sex. He was allowed to date other girls. He didn’t belong to me and I definitely didn’t belong to him.

  I stood at the edge of the table and politely smiled his way.

  Nathaniel simply stared back, two fingers under his mouth.

  “Good evening. Would you like some white or red wine tonight?” I asked, keeping my voice cool and composed.

  Sweat ran down my spine.

  “Red wine,” the Wasp said, flashing her teeth at me as she patted her napkin down on her lap.

  I nodded, pouring the red liquor into the crystal glass.

  The Wasp turned her attention back to Nathaniel. “My family sends their hellos.” She grinned at him, her dimples appearing in the crease of her cheeks.

  I could still feel his gaze on me, burning a hole into the side of my head.

  Slowly, I turned to face him, straightening. For once, I was taller than him, towering over the man before me.

  “And you, sir?” I choked on those words.

  He lowered his eyes, dark lashes fanning over his olive cheeks. He scanned me, from head to toe, as a man would someone he knew intimately and the back of my neck grew hot. Because he had. He had kissed places on my body no one had ever even seen.

  “Red, Ms. Monroe,” he said, my name sitting like heaven and hell on his full, arrogant lips.

  My hands trembled.

  “Do you know her, Nathan?” the woman asked, her eyes darting between us. Her fingers played with the edge of her crystal glass, manicured nails raking up and down.

  His bright eyes swept over me again and returned to my face. He leaned back in his chair, appraising me and I couldn’t snap back at him.

  “Yes,” he finally spoke, the smugness gone from his voice and expression. A sound I couldn’t understand echoed in his voice. “She offered to help my mother this summer. We compete at Yale. She’s my greatest rival.”

  My throat grew tight and I struggled to hold his powerful gaze. I watched as his mouth relaxed and opened.

  “Your greatest rival?” The woman laughed, her nails dragging painfully across the expensive crystal. “How ancient. Plus, I couldn’t believe anyone being as intelligent and savvy as you, Nathan.” Her hand reached out and stroked the edge of his. He didn’t move away from the touch.

  Yet, his gaze still held mine.

  “You would believe that until you saw her singlehandedly destroy men with that sharp tongue of hers,” he said, a smile growing ever so slightly at the corner of his mouth.

  My chest felt light, too light as I gawked at him.

  Wasp’s cheeks hollowed out.

  “It seems you’re invincible to my sharp tongue,” I said, tilting my head to the side.

  That earned a smile and it blinded me like the sun. “I’d argue the opposite.”

  A heat grew and I couldn’t stop myself from flushing.

  And then the heat cooled as a splash hit my skin.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, her slender hands picking up the crystal glass. “I’m so clumsy.” She laughed again.

  I slowly looked down at myself, seeing the harsh red stains on my white clothes.

  When I glanced up at her, she hid a smile behind her fingers, as if trying to appear upset.

  Standing in front of them, in a room full of people so much more powerful than I, I felt small, humiliated.

  I swallowed.

  “Juliette,” Nathaniel said, standing.

  “No,” I bit out harshly and turned back to the Wasp. “Have a lovely evening.”

  Her smile wavered and I turned away, rushing out of the dining hall and down the hallway. A few couples stopped at my appearance, but I kept walking, hoping I could outrun the embarrassment.

  I slammed open the woman’s bathroom and stalked to the sinks, grabbing the ridiculous deluxe paper towel imported from France and wetting it.

  The red stains looked like blood as I scrubbed, blinking back angry tears. She had done it on purpose, it hadn’t been an accident. I’d been crossing the line.

  I shook my head, mumbling curses to myself.

  At the sound of the door opening, I glanced up at the mirror, ready to excuse myself, but then I saw him.

  Nathaniel walked in, shutting the door behind him.

  I dropped my head again and focused on the stains. The stupid stains that weren’t coming out, only slightly fading.

  “Are you here to apologize on behalf of your date?” I hissed between my teeth.

  Nathaniel stayed silent for a moment. “No.”

&nbs
p; I huffed. “You rich boys move on fast.”

  Again, silence followed, the only sound my harsh breathing and my hands viciously scrubbing at the stains.

  “She felt threatened by you,” he said.

  My head snapped up. “What?”

  He shrugged lazily, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “She felt intimidated by you.”

  I shook my head, again scrubbing. “She has everything. Beauty, money, a bright, easy future ahead of her. I’m just the maid, remember?”

  “No, she doesn’t.” I looked up when I heard the bite in his voice. For once not cool, not composed. I saw his throat muscles move as he swallowed and he took a step forward. “She doesn’t have your intelligence. Or your anger.”

  I scoffed and bowed my head, viciously scrubbing at the red stain on my skirt. “Anger is not a desirable trait, Nathaniel.”

  His fingers touched my wrist and I froze. His long, tanned fingers wrapped around my wrist and he lifted my hands from my skirt. “You’ll rub your hands raw, Juliette.”

  I reddened, curling my hands into fists. I saw the pinkness on the tips of my fingers. When I became stressed, obsessive, I couldn’t stop.

  “Your anger is desirable to me,” he said and my eyes snapped up to his, capturing my entire attention.

  I tried to straighten, tried to gather my wits, but under his gaze, I felt naked. “You’re the only one who makes me furious.”

  A smile stung his mouth. “Good.” He looked far too smug. “I’m the only bastard who gets your wrath.”

  I hated how his words made me weak, made me loose and warm and giddy. I wasn’t that girl. I wouldn’t lose focus on my end goal. My future.

  “You should get back to your date,” I said and pulled my hand back.

  He watched me for a moment. “She’s not anyone important, if that’s a concern of yours.”

  I fixed my lopsided skirt.

  At my silence, he edged closer, hands in his pockets. “But maybe we should set some ground rules to our affair.”

  My stomach heated at the word affair. It made it sound so forbidden and secret and sacred.

  “Until summer ends, we won’t be with anyone else,” he said, watching my expression.