Allister, J. Rose - Immortal Menage [Immortal Paradise 4] (Siren Publishing PolyAmour)

by J. Rose Allister

  “Please,” she said, breathless as she stared at the floor and willed the vision to stop.

  His feet came into view, back on the floor. He extended a hand to help her up. When she accepted and risked a glance at his face, his beauty quite literally robbed her of breath. Most of his glow had faded, but the flame in his eyes remained until the sting of tears robbed her vision.

  “It’s true. You’re really a god.”

  “Demigod.”

  He took her hands, much like Lust had done over by the couch, and yet nothing like that at all. There was true tenderness there, concern. His touch burned, but did not consume. She felt suffused with rightness and knew this hadn’t been some staged come-on. Even the most desperate guys on the prowl couldn’t have imitated what she’d just seen. And they’d known all about her dreams.

  She looked up at him and sniffed back fast-rising emotion. “Either you two use one hell of a hallucinogen in your ventilation system, or I have the feeling I’ve just left everything I’ve ever known behind.”

  His smile radiated sympathy. “You knew that the moment you packed your bag and got on the airplane to come here.”

  She swallowed. Yes, she had known. Theorized, at least. And fervently, desperately hoped. She’d suspected there was a lot more to her dream lover, though she’d thought he was a human who’d somehow collided with her dreams by metaphysical accident. Astral projection or something. Still, he’d been so much more than perfect she couldn’t imagine a man like that existing anywhere on earth. And now she knew that he didn’t.

  Was she truly prepared to turn her back after coming all this way? She had to see this through. At least wait until she could look her mystery lover—who she now had a name for—in the eyes, so she would have proof she hadn’t been a delusional fool for trusting her dreams. If this was all some big sham, she would know soon enough. If he failed to come back for her in forty-eight hours like the gods claimed, she would go back home and do her best to forget this folly. Maybe the dreams would vanish if that happened.

  She swallowed back a pang. The thought of losing the dreams burned through her, as if a dark hole had been torn through her spirit. Even if she was fated never to meet Grayel in reality, she still wasn’t prepared to give him up in fantasy. In the meantime she had lodging in the most exquisite room at the most illustrious resort on the planet, and the company of two of the most drop-dead sexy males to set foot on terra firma. A salesgirl with nothing more to her name than a shabby apartment and a Volkswagen Rabbit could certainly do much worse on vacation.

  She inhaled a long breath, slow and deep, then counted to five before releasing it. Then, she nodded at Love. “So, you are asking me to stay here with you until he returns in forty-eight hours?”

  “He won’t be returning in forty-eight hours.”

  So, he was already coming up with excuses to delay her. Her heart pounded as she struggled to keep calm. “You told me he couldn’t come back for forty-eight hours.”

  Lust interrupted. “Gods can only step through a portal once in forty-eight hours. The change from immortal to mortal body and back has side effects on their energies, a by-product of the damage to the veil. If he were to return sooner, his appearance would be rather spectacularly inhuman and he could not conduct the mating ritual with you.”

  She folded her arms. “Will he or will he not be back here in two days?”

  “Not in two days,” Lust said. Her heart sank. “He will be here tomorrow.”

  Her pulse fired up again. “Really?”

  “And he will appear to you tonight,” Love added, “in your usual manner.”

  Hope flamed anew. “I'll dream of him?”

  He nodded. “Gods help any who interfere, accidentally or otherwise,” he said with a crooked smile. “He made it quite plain that he demands unfettered access to you. He’ll try to explain things as best he can. But understand, Lexie, verbal communication is extremely difficult for us in the dream realm.”

  She frowned. “He wasn’t much of a talker, that’s true.”

  Lust gave a knowing laugh. “I'll bet.”

  She ignored the jibe. “He rarely spoke of himself, though I could talk at length about my life. I always wondered about that.”

  “We have a difficult time translating ourselves into human dreams,” Love said. “Because gods’ thought waves are different from mortals, much of our verbal communication is lost in symbolism and metaphor. That can be subjective and easy for humans to misunderstand or overlook.”

  “But you were able to communicate with me.”

  “I’m half human. But I, too, found some of what I tried to communicate came through in visual representation.”

  She thought back. “Like the grapes?”

  He nodded. “And the fur rug. Both represent the wealth and abundance that lie in store for you if you accept Grayel’s proposal.”

  “And I was…” she shot a quick look at the dark-eyed god and lowered her voice, “well, half of me was naked.”

  Lust growled. “Sounds like I missed an interesting dream. Love, you old devil. You were holding out on me. Please, continue.”

  She shot him a sharp look as Love answered. “You were half-naked and unashamed by it, which is an important factor.” Her cheeks burned hot. “That indicates your willingness to be vulnerable and exposed to me in this. That you trust me.”

  “That can also foretell affairs and hidden desires,” Lust added, half hissing the last word.

  Love shrugged. “Possibly. The ritual would involve all of these things.”

  A picture flashed unbidden through her mind of just how vulnerable and exposed she would have to be in order to go through with this. Of the things the rocked, blazing specimen of manhood standing before her would have to do to her during the ritual. As much as his aura seemed to invite trust and a generous comfort level, she suddenly found their proximity too close. She stepped away from him and again picked up her bag.

  “Won’t you even consider staying?” Love said. His voice was laced with something undecipherable, almost yearning. “For Grayel’s sake?”

  She smiled at him. “I’m not leaving. I’m taking my bag to my room. If it’s all right with the two of you, I’ve got a lot of thinking to do. I’d like to be alone so I can do it.”

  “Let him come to you,” Lust said. “Let him fill you this one last time in your dreams. If you still have objections to the mating ritual, he will not force the issue.”

  Let him fill you this one last time.

  The stinging in her eyes was a good cue to make a hasty exit. Not trusting herself to speak, she turned away and nodded before rushing to her room.

  So, she could become immortal in some hot orgy ritual with actual, in-the-flesh gods, or lose the man who had captured her heart in dreams. Seemed like a no-brainer choice, especially for a woman who’d spent the last year rushing to bed every night. She dragged herself through the motions of living every day, waiting for the chance to slip away and be alive in Grayel’s arms. Daytime seemed like the dream, and nighttime was where her real life lay.

  Nevertheless, she was scared shitless. What if she couldn’t get past her anxiety over having sex with two men at the same time? Two gods, no less. More important, what if her real self didn’t live up to Grayel’s vision of her in dreams? Both men were exceptionally perfect, and immortal. She was just, well, Lexie. What if he crossed the portal, saw her, and then changed his mind? Or what if the ritual wasn’t done “right” and failed? Then they could never be together.

  “What-ifs” followed her into the shower, where she sat thinking until long after steam had filled the room, then dissipated into the ether. If only her doubt and misgivings would do the same.

  Chapter Eight

  Grayel knew he shouldn’t be pacing around like an expectant father while he had his privacy shroud invoked, since it could disrupt the energies involved in putting up the shell in the first place. That would ruin the illusion of invisibility. This was a skill he’d
never found a need to employ within the realm, until recently. With his devotion to Lex Ann mired in duplicitous controversy, he’d taken to concealing his frequent presence at the portal near his home. While his internal time sense told him the hour was still early for her to be awaiting the dream bond, he was hoping she would avail herself sooner than usual this time.

  She should have been told the truth by now about the identity of her dream lover, and the reason he had called her to the island. Love would explain why Grayel hadn’t simply slipped into her dream and said, “Hey, come to the Amante del Mar resort in the Bahamas and become my goddess forever.”

  His lack of ability to communicate with Lex Ann in the dream bond was one of the biggest frustrations Grayel faced in trying to woo her. He’d pondered other ways to approach her, of course. Since full gods could not disguise their ethereal appearance, they were barred from making appearances in mortal cities. Same went for postal mail, telephones, and electronic messaging, for a variety of reasons. Even if he tried to pose as a mortal man and engage her in a long-distance relationship, the possibility of discovery was deemed too high. The best way to guard immortal secrets, and to keep Lex Ann from potentially being exploited if the wrong entity discovered the god’s interest in her, was to stick solely to the dream bond until he could lure her to the relative privacy of the portal island, where immortal secrets were kept from the rest of the human race.

  He stopped pacing and sat on the ground. Here he had a line of sight to the portal gate, but was out of the way enough that he wouldn’t be stumbled over should anyone happen along. The portal here wasn’t used too often, as beings in this part of the kingdom had little need for dealings outside the realm. Still, best to play it safe.

  He’d tried contacting Lex Ann three times, but had not made a connection. Hopefully this latest bout of nervous walking had killed enough time so he could succeed now. Folding his legs beneath him, Grayel settled into a meditative pose and reached out. He sought through the swirling confusion of energies centered near the passage, seeking the familiar mind that could join with his own only when quiet enough to stimulate a special inactive portion of the human mind. This would allow him to slip his consciousness inside hers. A human brain lacked the ability to translate a god’s actions and thoughts literally in a dream bond, so it substituted analogies and symbols it could recognize. Hopefully he could manage some clear communication tonight, for no doubt she would have questions.

  Through the many pinpoints of foreign energy he sensed, a bright speck came into focus. He smiled and moved his consciousness toward it to where Lex was waiting. He could feel when she identified his approach and how she relaxed into acceptance of it. Good. At least she hadn’t rejected his proposal wholeheartedly. Probably.

  He moved toward her essence, inhaling an ethereal scent of spiced heather and vanilla. He plunged into that essence, a sensation similar to stepping through a portal. When he came out on the other side, they were together in a place he’d never seen before. And it made his cock instantly hard.

  The room was similar to dipping chambers or a bathhouse. But here, every wall was draped in expensive burgundy silks. This was symbolic of the potential power awaiting her, and the wealth and prosperity that would accompany it. Candles flickered around them, with a thousand shimmering beacons of light he knew were metaphors for enlightenment and hope.

  In the center of the room stood a vast, sunken tub, bubbling and churning with steam rising all around. That was a first for their dream time. Sexy as the setting appeared, he also knew churning water meant conflicting emotions, something she would no doubt be teeming with right now. Floating and spinning in the turbulent foam were scores of red rose petals—a sign of romantic passion, love, and unity.

  In the midst of it all, his beautiful Lex Ann stood waist-deep in water, naked and stirring her hands through the steamy bubbles. She was magnificent, a true goddess even in a still-mortal state. Her hair tumbled long and free, the lower ends swirling in the water. Her rose-tipped nipples were stiff and ready, her eyes wide and dark with desire. Ripe curves beckoned, and a glance down at himself showed that despite her bold nakedness, he was still clothed. He was barefoot, but wore a black shirt and slacks. The color of mystery, and denoting divinity. He nodded at the appropriate translation.

  Rather than stripping down, he wandered to the edge of the water and descended the steps fully dressed, speaking with nothing but his eyes as he waded through the heated bubbles.

  Something akin to pain flashed in her beautiful cobalt gaze. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

  As he drew near, he noticed that many of the candles nearest her were not lit.

  “I tried,” he said, but the rest wouldn’t come. Instead, he took her gently by the elbow and steered her around to point out the darkened candles. With his breath, he blew on them, and they flamed to life, and then he pulled her into his arms.

  “Lex Ann,” he said, the feel of her flushed skin igniting his need.

  She looked up at him, her beautiful eyes glassed over and tinged with uncertainty. He tipped her chin up and placed a soft kiss on her lips. The contact was light and meant only to reassure her, but his cock throbbed with insistence. The hot water churning around them only inflamed him further, and he longed to tear off his wet clothes and show her with his body just how much she meant to him. How much his she’d already become. But more needed to be accomplished between them this night than a demonstration of his male lust. If everything succeeded as he hoped, by this time tomorrow they would have eternity to explore each other over and over again.

  When he pulled away, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes heavy. “I’ve missed you.” She hesitated. “Grayel.”

  The sound of his name on her lips shot longing through his abdomen, and he smiled and nodded. “I, too.”

  She turned and waded to the edge of the tub and sat on a ledge seat in the water. He sat nearby, fighting the urge to take hold of the firm breasts bobbing at the frothy surface. In all the times he’d taken her in these dreams, she’d never before appeared to him already naked and waiting. Her decision to do so tonight made it very difficult to concentrate on communicating what needed to be said with his mind and heart, rather than with the cock aching to be free of his tight, wet pants.

  Her red locks floated around her like a wraith as she spoke. “Love and Lust told me who you are, and why you summoned me to the island.” The fire in her gaze seemed to dim for a moment. “They said you were here, too. You didn’t come find me. You haven’t even been in my dreams. I thought you’d abandoned me.”

  He swallowed at the sorrow plain to see in her expression. If only the damned dreams would let him conjure up a writing tablet and pen, he could jot down whatever he wanted to say. Instead he closed his eyes a moment, and then extended a bunch of lavender flowers that appeared in his hands. She took them with a smile, inhaling their scent. If she hadn’t grasped the symbolism of purple hyacinths, which were used for apology and to express sorrow, at least it seemed the gesture of giving flowers was clear.

  Her eyes flicked down to study the delicate purple blossoms. “Didn’t you want to come see me in person? Were you afraid?”

  “I wanted you,” he managed.

  He bit back frustration. He could explain everything to her tomorrow night, assuming she agreed to wait around to hear it.

  She seemed to read his face. “Love told me you can’t always say what you want here. Guess I shouldn’t ask so many questions.”

  He offered her a guilty smile and a shrug.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just can’t help it. So much has happened. I flew to the island, and the fountain was there just like I saw in my dreams. Only you never showed. Then there was this crazy swim I took when I thought you weren’t real. And then I met two gods and heard all this.” She finally came up for a breath and shrugged.

  He tried to fend off the jealous twinge at the mention of Love and Lust. Knowing they already had physical access to her wa
s maddening. He should have risked his father’s arrival through the portal and had her brought to him the very first night. Lust better hope he was keeping his nature far under wraps. Grayel needed Lex Ann to be comfortable enough to fully accept another lover in his presence, but not completely bewitched by the other being’s supernatural sex charms.

  “So you’re really coming through the portal tomorrow?” she said. “In the flesh?”

  He nodded again. “Seven o’clock.”

  Her sultry gaze fell over every angle and curve on his face, and his blood heated for her. “I can’t believe I’m finally going to see you.”

  The burgundy fabric around them glowed with reddish light. “Tomorrow,” he said.

  She cocked her head. “What if we don’t look the same to one another as we do in our dream? I don’t really see myself here. Oh, I wish there was a mirror.”

  He laughed. “You’re beautiful.” To reinforce the point, he traced a finger over her cheek, down her throat, and let it trail over a breast.

  “You say that now, but you’ve never seen me in person, right?”

  He shook his head.

  “What if I look totally different? You might find me utterly hideous when you step through the portal.”

  The look on her face was so genuinely panicked that he had no choice. He took her by the hand and led her up out of the water, over to a standing mirror he managed to conjure into the space. He took her by the shoulders, water dripping off every luscious inch of her, and faced her at the mirror.

  “Beautiful,” he repeated.

  She took in the sight with what appeared to be relief. Watching her look at herself dripping naked gave him the urge to bury himself in her silken depths.

  “Happy?” he asked.

  She nodded. As she wandered away, he considered her words, and he, too, checked his reflection in the mirror. Though his mortal dream form was a bit plain, he essentially looked like a duller version of himself. His clothes stuck uncomfortably to his body, and when he finished his survey in the mirror he turned away and started stripping off the wet fabric.