Peace for Poseidon (Olympians Ascending Book 1)

by Sotia Lazu

  Gaia, I’m a goner.

  “I’m going to come,” I think at her.

  She hums and takes me in deeper.

  I spill down her throat, but she’s not really here, so I’m spurting sticky, hot liquid all over myself. And I don’t fucking care. I pull her to me by the hair and crush our mouths together. She tastes of me, and that feels right.

  Why didn’t I say yes when she asked if I wanted her to come over? Then I could make love to her and fall asleep holding her in my arms.

  Fuck. What’s happening to me? What is she doing to me?

  I won’t allow it. This is my turf. My game. My woman. I’m in control. Always.

  I thrust with my mind, bending her to my will until we’re in her room once more. She’s disheveled, her eyes glazed over, her hand moving back and forth inside her panties. I tear off the flimsy cotton and bury my head between her thighs. Swipe my tongue up her slit, savoring her juices. Drive two fingers inside her and pump, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves inside. Her fingers on her clit are a blur, pressing and twisting even when I wrap my lips around it.

  Her hips jerk off the mattress, and she groans. I lick and suck and finger her to an orgasm that has her trapping my head between her thighs and grinding against my face. I draw out her pleasure until she flops back on the mattress, eyes closed.

  I caress her cheek, and she nuzzles my palm. “That was incredible,” she mutters.

  It was. Literally out of this world.

  I hate myself for what I’m about to do, but once her post-orgasmic haze fades, she’ll have questions I’m not ready to answer.

  “It was a dream,” I think at her. “I called to let you know your purse is at my place. We had a nice chat, and then you went to sleep.” I end the call from her side and pull the covers over her naked body with one long, lingering look.

  Chapter Twelve – Irini

  Bad idea. Baaad—three a’s.

  I should have worn a tracksuit, not leggings and this athletic crop top. It’s getting too hot to keep my jacket on, and I can’t show up at work in what’s essentially a spandex sports bra. It would make for a horrible first impression. Which this isn’t, because I’ve already made a horrible first impression, clenching around my boss’s fingers.

  God, he has magic fingers. I can still feel them inside, as vividly as I can feel the smooth hardness of his cock against my palm. If the real thing is anything like it was in my dream...

  I won’t be finding out. No. Bad Irine.

  I fan myself with my hand and lower the zipper of my jacket a couple centimeters. I’ll be sweating my ass off by midmorning. Idiot. In my defense, it was chilly out when I got up. Chilly and pitch black. God, I hate mornings.

  I could find another job. With better hours. For a guy whose cock I haven’t dreamed of. Or I could listen to Dad and help him run his taverna. But that’s small and local, and I’ve watched my parents slave over the stove while other people had fun. It’s not for me.

  Yeah, I’ll take my chances with Sei.

  Outside the window, the Kifissia Olympian Plaza looms like a castle, mocking my resolve. There’s a dragon, not a prince, waiting for me upstairs.

  “Anywhere here is fine,” I tell the taxi driver. When he pulls over, I hand him a borrowed twenty.

  Lena made me work for this money. She asked question after question about the dream that had me moaning as if my life depended on it.

  The few times I did provide answers, she responded with different versions of, “Ew. No. Don’t wanna know.”

  I pick up the cardboard tray holding the two paper coffee cups, stuff the change the driver hands me into my jacket pocket, and reach for the handle.

  My door is thrown open before my fingers make contact, and I barely hold back a shriek.

  A handsome man in his fifties smiles down at me and holds out a hand. “Ms. Anastasaki, good morning.”

  I look from his face to his gloved hand, while my brain plays catchup with the fact that the doorman knows my name.

  The driver huffs, and the doorman waggles his fingers the littlest bit impatiently.

  What...? Oh. Right. Can’t stay here. I place my palm in the doorman’s and let him help me out. Assuming I need any assistance because I’m a woman is sexist, but it’s his job, so I don’t protest. Though I do practically race him to the doors.

  I make it through unscathed, and almost run smack dab into Hades.

  Hot liquid sloshes in the cups, but none is spilled through the tiny holes in the lids as he steadies me with a hand on my elbow. His flat expression says he’s not that impressed with my entrance.

  “I can go out and try again,” I mumble.

  His lips twitch, and I get as into his face as possible with our half a meter difference in height. “Is that a smile, fighting its way to the surface?” I ask.

  He scowls, but amusement lingers in his gray eyes. Quick as lightning, he snakes his hand inside his jacket and when he draws it out, the key for the elevator dangles between his fingers. “Yours,” he says.

  I blink stupidly as he moves his grasp from my elbow to my wrist and twists so my hand is palm up. He drops the key in it and closes my fingers around it.

  “Is this standard practice for employees?” I keep the fluttering in my chest from reaching my voice.

  “No.” Hades says it like he’s wondering if I’m an idiot. And I think he adds good luck, as he nudges me toward the elevators.

  I twist the key in the port and withdraw it, like Hermes did yesterday, then press the button for Sei’s suite. Will he be ready? Or maybe waiting for me in his bathrobe again? Hope and dread take turns twisting in my gut, as the elevator takes its sweet time, climbing up. According to my watch, I’m five minutes early. Still, it feels like an eternity has passed before the car comes to a stop and the doors open to reveal Sei.

  He’s dressed in midnight-blue designer sweatpants, a skin-tight white T-shirt, and a freaking fanny pack or belt bag—or whatever you wanna call this thing that should make him look like the pretentious millionaire he is, and not a sleek, sexy, fuckable sex god. He might as well be naked.

  Shit. Am I gaping?

  I regain control of my mouth, to say, “Good morning.”

  “It is now.” He looks me up and down and nods approvingly.

  Resisting the urge to preen, I hold out his coffee. “Double espresso. Black.” Like his shiny hair. And I’m a dolt.

  He smirks and snatches my forgotten tote from the couch. Holds it out so I loop my arm through the handles. “We’ll have our coffee in the car.”

  “The car?” I frown. “I thought we were walking.”

  His smile is dazzling as he backs me into the elevator. “Ready to start your day the best way possible?” He’s standing smack-dab in my personal bubble, but I don’t mind. Why don’t I mind? I should. But his cologne smells amazing. I inhale so deeply, my head feels light. Or that’s my pheromones, going nuts.

  I hold up the carrier tray between us, stick his cup back in place, and flare my nostrils at the smell of coffee. “Best way possible includes this and a full English breakfast.” Damn it, I should have had my coffee already. And I shouldn’t have asked for decaf. I didn’t want to get jittery, but at least I’d be more alert than the tired leaf of lettuce I feel like at this ungodly hour.

  “Far be it from me to underestimate the value of good coffee, but its benefits increase exponentially when you have it by the sea,” Sei says sagely.

  Kifisia isn’t exactly on the coastline. “We’re going to the beach?” I ask.

  The elevator stops with a ping, and he motions for me to go on. I exit first, and his palm on the small of my back steers me to where the doorman is holding the door for us. Sei’s hand scorches me through the fabric. I want to lose my jacket, and then lose myself in him. But that’s not what I’m here for.

  I jog down the stairs, to break contact, and I can think again. I can’t focus when he’s touching me.

  Sei stops beside me. When I loo
k up at him, he grins. It’s not friendly; it’s feral. Like he could eat me up.

  Can he tell my heart is hammering against my ribs?

  He gestures with two fingers, and a dark-blue honest-to-God limo rolls to a stop in front of us.

  Now, I’m not easily impressed by wealth. My parents made sure I know there are far more important things in the world than money, and taught me possessions don’t give people value.

  But I’ve never ridden in a limo before, and hey, it’s a little impressive.

  The doorman starts descending the stairs, but Sei gives a curt shake of his head and gets the back door for me himself.

  Chivalrous. Also, unnecessary. Pretending not to notice, I round the car and open the door on the other side. It’s a juggling act, with the coffees and my bag, but it’s worth it when I slide in the back seat and see his perplexed and possibly offended expression looming down at me.

  “Are you coming?” I ask as innocently as possible.

  His frown melts into the naughtiest arch of an eyebrow. “Not until long after you do.”

  Ah come on, man. Let me have the upper hand for one second. Don’t reduce me to a puddle of need ten minutes into our workday.

  He climbs in and shuts his door. Folds his enormous body into the seat opposite me and taps on the darkened glass separator.

  Heat crawls up my cheeks, and I feel wetness lining my briefs as the car starts moving. Ugh.

  I guzzle down my coffee and hold out the tray with his cup.

  His fingers linger on mine as he takes it, sending a shiver down my spine. My nipples harden. Like me, they feel confined in this jacket. Imprisoned.

  “Where are we going?” I try to sound upbeat, but the fake cheer grates.

  Sei tilts his head and slowly drags his gaze down my body. His eyes burn me. Can he read my mind? Why not? He can make me feel things that aren’t real, so maybe...

  No. That’s crazy.

  “Nafplio.” He says it casually, as if it’s a ten-minute drive, not an hour-and-a-half one. “We’ll exercise, have some of the best gelato in Greece, and be back by lunchtime.”

  Sounds amazing, but not very work related.

  “Thought we were starting my training,” I say.

  He smirks. “We are. I’m of the Mr. Miyagi school of teaching. Be thankful you’re riding in the car, instead of waxing it.”

  Does he have to be funny? Aren’t sexy and suave and gifted with magic fingers enough?

  “I’m super thankful.” I bite back a smile. Will he ask me to show him? There’s room between us for me to drop on my knees.

  Up goes the eyebrow again, along with the corners of his mouth.

  He’s so quiet, though. Unmoving, except for his eyes that seem to be seeing everything.

  I can play this game. I can be quiet. I sit back, cross my legs, and weave my fingers together on my knee. I can sit and not speak forever. I untangle my fingers and tuck a curl behind my ear. Stick my cup between my thighs, pull the elastic from my hair, and twist it into a tighter bun.

  Sei watches me, quiet. There’s a smile in his eyes. Dangerous smile. The kind a girl could fall in love with.

  Screw it. I can’t be quiet. When I don’t talk, my brain goes on overdrive. “Why Nafplio?”

  He shrugs. “Gelato.”

  “Then why not Rome?” Do I look triumphant? Because I fucking feel triumphant.

  “We can go there tomorrow.”

  At my startled look, he says, “Or would you rather see Florence?”

  “I’d rather be treated like a new employee, and not a date.” Flagrant lie, but I pull it off perfectly.

  His eyes darken, and for a heartbeat, they gleam silver. He draws his mouth into a thin line. When he opens it again, I know what he’s about to say will be a lie. “This is how I treat all my managers.”

  Called it. Must admit he lies more smoothly than I do, though.

  “I take them out of town, test their stamina, buy them lunch, and watch how they interact with others when they’re tired. A good manager must inspire loyalty and respect even at their worst.”

  Holding his steady gaze, I give a slow nod. “Bullshit.”

  Sei watches me a moment longer, before his stony expression cracks and a full smile blossoms on his lips. “You and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”

  God, I need to take off this jacket.

  Chapter Thirteen – Sei

  Irine’s whole body comes alive when she talks about her family.

  She moves her hands so much, she almost spills her coffee a couple times, until I take it from her and place it in a cup holder. Her brows dance, and her eyes shine, and her smile takes my breath away. I’m glad I chose the limo, though C won’t like it. If I were driving, I’d miss all of this.

  I could let her go on forever, about her cool younger sister who defied the family expectations of following up on her excellent grades and getting a university degree, and is instead living her best life as a hair stylist. About the long-suffering father, who loves to act like he has everything under control but is a victim to the whims of the women in his family. About the put-together mother, who manages to run a tight ship while keeping everyone happy.

  I want to tell her about my brothers, but it’s hard to draw a line between what can be shared and what will scare her away.

  “Do you have any sisters, or are you all boys?” she asks.

  “No sisters that I know of.” Except one who’s currently living in Vythos, if I can consider Aphrodite our sibling when she hasn’t been raised as part of our family. I hate that I lie to Irine more than I have to anyone else. Hate that it’s coming more easily every time. I’ll make it up to her, and that’s a promise.

  Irine laughs. “Your poor mother... I don’t see you, Hermes, or Hades being docile little boys. You must have driven her up the walls.”

  Her innocent exclamation lands like a punch to the stomach. I manage a chuckle that scrapes its way up my throat. “There are six of us.”

  Her horrified gasp makes me laugh for real. “Six?” she asks. “That’s twice as bad. Is she a saint?”

  No way to avoid this question. “We don’t all have the same parents. We were orphaned at a young age. Our adoptive father took us in and made us a family.” And I’ll forever be grateful to him, even if I’m not clear on exactly what he has to gain by our ascension.

  “Oh.” Her gleeful expression falters. She reaches for my hand, and there’s pity in her eyes.

  This mortal girl pities me. Poseidon. The next ruler of men and gods alike. Anger bubbles in my chest. I should remind her of her position. Explain my superiority.

  Something buzzes, and she sits back to fumble through her bag. When she fishes out her phone, her brows knot together. She glances at me and drops the call. Her finger glides across the screen, and then up. “Seventeen missed calls?”

  “I had to put it on silent mode. It wouldn’t stop ringing.” Not even after I answered and told the jerkoff on the other end of the line to leave her alone.

  She clicks the sound on, and the phone starts ringing again.

  “Fucking asshole.” She doesn’t mean me. She’s frowning at the screen. “He’ll keep calling until I pick up.”

  “Then pick up.”

  She purses her lips. “I shouldn’t.”

  “I promise not to think less of you, no matter what I hear.”

  She bites her bottom lip. Why was I upset with her? Can’t remember. Now I want to devour her.

  “If you’re sure...”

  I dismiss her concern with a regal wave. “Take the call.”

  She taps the screen, brings the phone to her ear, and says, “Shouldn’t you be asleep? Or are you up, fucking other strangers in my apartment?” Her voice is cold and toneless. Her anger is icy. Nothing like her seething rage at the airport.

  I got it right. That waste of space cheated on her. For once, I’d trade my ability to nudge minds for Hermes’ superhuman hearing.

  Whatever he sa
ys doesn’t mellow Irine. “I pay the rent; I get to say who stays in it. And you’ve got two more days to get your sorry ass out of there,” she snaps.

  The guy screams something, but I can’t make out the words.

  Irine tuts, still calm as fuck. “You should have thought of that when you stuck your dick into someone else.” Pause. More yelling on his side. Then— “Listen, Taso, I’m at work, and you’re making a scene. Next time you want to talk to me, contact my lawyer. Unless you’re fucking him too.” She ends the call, silences the ringer again, and drops the phone back in her bag. “Sorry about that.”

  She apologizes? For putting her ex in his place without breaking a sweat or raising her voice once? I shake my head. “I’m in awe.”

  She blushes so prettily, I should rip the clothes off her and see how far down the pink flush spreads. But a lust-crazed tumble in the back of my limo won’t suffice. There’s so much more I desire from her, and the list grows longer with every moment I spend in her company.

  “What made you decide to come work for me?” The abrupt change of subject should be enough to dissipate the cloud of desire twirling around us.

  She tugs on her zipper. It seems to be a nervous gesture but draws my gaze to her cleavage. “What made you decide to hire me?” she asks.

  Self-control isn’t my defining characteristic. I sit back and stretch my legs. “If I tell you, will you take off that jacket?”

  Staring at me defiantly, she drags down the zipper a few centimeters. “Only if I like the reason.”

  Can’t tell her the truth, then. Not all of it, at least. “I find you intriguing. You have a refreshing approach to life. I think it will help us evolve.”

  She studies my face, not letting on whether my answered satisfied her. “By us, you mean the hotels?”

  “Of course.” And that’s the only part that’s a lie.

  She smirks and unzips her jacket. Slides it off her shoulders and down her arms. The top she’s wearing reveals little more than a sliver of skin, but it’s enough to send desire spiking through me.

  Thankfully, the car comes to a stop before I act on it.