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

by J. Rose Allister

  “I know.”

  Then she noticed he was wearing the sexy glasses. “Oh, my,” she said, her voice smoldering.

  “What?”

  “There is something about a god wearing glasses. That is so hot.”

  His mouth twisted into a grin. “I’m trying to concentrate on the symbols here, and you’re not helping.”

  She made a mock pout lip. “Sorry.”

  He went back to painting, and all she could think about was him brushing that electric paint onto her nipples. Not good. She had to get a grip here.

  “Okay,” she said, feeling her face start to burn. “I need something to distract me. Even the grapes are starting to look sexual. How about conversation?”

  “If you think it will help.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She winced as the words came out in sexual connotation. “Let’s talk so I can do something other than think.”

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  She thought for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “You and Lust have known each other for how long?”

  He shrugged. “Close to a thousand years.”

  She shook her head. “In all that time, he never, you know. Got to you?”

  He grunted. “I thought we’re supposed to be distracting you from that subject.”

  Lexie waved a hand. “Apparently impossible. At least talking keeps me from doing, for the time being.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve never had sex with him, if that’s what you mean. Though there have been…” he paused, “encounters, where both of us were present as spectators or participants.”

  She shot him a comical look. “That’s a rather vague way of saying ‘orgies,’ don’t you think?”

  His laugh did its little trip-dance down her spine. “It’s not what it sounds like.”

  “Uh-huh. Come on. Love and Lust out together for a night on the town? It’s exactly what it sounds like.” She grabbed a grape and popped it into her mouth. “I’m not a complete prude, you know. Why would you care what I think it sounds like, anyway?”

  He shrugged. “My nature, I suppose. We tend to frame our words around our focus. I tend to place a more romantic spin on things. Lust…” He shook his head and laughed. “He speaks fluent Fuck Me Now.”

  Her eyes shot open, and then she burst out laughing. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you use that word.”

  He shot her a devilish look. “My name is Love, not Purity.”

  “You two like each other a great deal more than you care to let on.”

  His snort held a note of skepticism. “He’s arrogant, selfish, and lets his organ drag him into far too much trouble. But we’ve tolerated each other for a very long time. That kind of relationship is difficult to explain to humans, who think in terms of decades rather than centuries.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. “So, why don’t you?”

  He cocked his head. “Why don’t I what?”

  She shot him a naughty grin. “Even I’ll admit Lust is fabulously gorgeous and his natural eroticism is damned impossible to resist. He exudes sex like it breathes through his pores. I was doing myself for him without giving two thoughts to being on a public beach with a stranger.”

  He plucked off another bit of fruit and eyed it for a moment before putting it between his lips. She felt the sensation while she watched him eat it, right down to her toes. It was so decadent, lying on a fur rug eating grapes with a god. So damned sexy. And it felt wonderful to relax and enjoy it.

  He answered after selecting another grape. “He likes to flaunt that power, too. It is formidable to resist, even to the likes of full gods. That is why Eros chose him.”

  “Eros?”

  “God of passion and sex. A high god. Lust is one of his top servants.”

  That tingled along her already overdone, traitorously libidinous insides. “Really? And you?”

  He smiled. “First and foremost, I serve Aphrodite. Goddess of…”

  “Love,” she finished off with a grin. He reached for another grape, but she beat him to it and pressed it to his lips.

  They both paused for a moment. His eyes flashed briefly as the grape sat against his lips. Then, slowly, he parted them and let her slide it inside while watching her. His lips surrounded her finger for a moment, and she felt the electric contact.

  She hadn’t meant anything by the gesture. There was a warm, safe camaraderie she felt around him, like she was surrounded by acceptance and would never be without it. His easy manner made it seem as though they’d known each other for eons. And in her current state, well, she’d reacted without thinking.

  She pulled her hand away and cleared her throat. “So, you don’t lust after Lust?”

  He glanced away with a tiny smile and shrug. “I think even the palm trees lust for him. I’m just not certain I want to see a moment’s release alter a thousand-year friendship.”

  “Good point.” Still, curiosity flared. “But you do have an interest in men? What I mean is, are you…”

  “Gay?” he offered.

  She nodded.

  “I am Love, in a few senses of the mortal definition. Love takes many forms, and all passion is equally beautiful when cloaked in it.”

  “Wow. You weren’t kidding about knowing how to put a romantic spin on things.” Still, she wasn’t entirely satisfied with the noncommittal answer. “Do you have a preference between men and women?”

  “Sometimes, our hearts dictate our preference.” He met her eyes with a stare that unsettled her. “Not the other way around.”

  For the first time, she let herself fully into his gaze. She sought its depths, explored its peaks, and absorbed all that was Love. His eyes swirled darker, then brighter, and soon the kaleidoscope she’d seen before spiraled in multi-toned blues. That spiral threatened to take her to a place she never dared visit.

  His gaze was so hypnotic and compelling that she didn’t move when he leaned closer to her. His lips parted slightly.

  “Love.” The voice was gruff, and came from across the room. “A word with you, please? Now.”

  Love blinked, and the spell weaving between them seemed to break. “Is it vital?”

  “Life threatening.”

  Both she and Love shifted their gazes his way. Lust’s eyes were aflame, unreadable, and fastened on the other demigod.

  Love rose and headed to the archway where Lust stood. They both disappeared inside.

  “Lust really is acting out of sorts,” Lexie said aloud, wondering if she could get away with pleasuring herself on the rug before the men returned. She chided herself for being so wicked and out of sexual control. She needed to get off the damned naughty sex rug before it got her into more trouble.

  She pushed herself up and stretched, not really caring that her towel was loosely cinched only around her waist. She was hyperaware of every bounce of her breasts while she walked topless toward the doorway, enough to where her hands almost ached to squeeze them. What on earth was so blasted urgent that Lust had to interrupt the pre-ritual ritual?

  When she drew close, she heard tense voices and realized the men stood in the hall just inside the archway. She tiptoed as close as she dared, keeping out of sight alongside the opening so she could listen in.

  “I’m not jeopardizing anything,” she heard Love saying. “I’m fine.”

  “Fine.” There was a snort she knew was Lust’s. “Our eyes don’t lie, my friend. And yours have been telling a whole different story.”

  “What do you want me to say? There’s nothing going on between Lexie and me.”

  Her eyes widened. Was that what this was about? Surely Lust wasn’t accusing her of cheating on Grayel? Or was he jealous? She wrapped her towel so that it covered her properly and slid a bit closer to the doorway.

  “I’m not talking about whether you’ve fucked her. I’m talking about whether your heart is about to fuck her over.”

  “I don’t know wh
at you’re talking about.”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about, if you’ve done as much reading up on the Fere-Theo as I’ve seen you doing lately. If the Shah-Hai ‘Na’s feelings for the mortal are not kept in neutral check, they will spill over into the pure essence of the god. Their own essence will mix in, tainting and diluting the bond between the god and his mate. The transformation will fail.”

  Lexie’s breath caught, but not before she slapped a hand over her mouth to silence it. Was there really a danger that the change could be threatened by the demigod partner? What would happen to her then? Would she stay mortal and alone? Or would the ruined attempt mutate or damage her somehow?

  “That’s not going to happen,” Love said in an adamant tone. “I would never do anything to interfere with the bond.”

  “Grayel’s fury would be most formidable if such a thing were to happen,” Lust said. “And what of Lexie’s fate? Her love for him?”

  There was a pause, during which time her pulse pounded in her ears. Her eyes shifted to the sheer curtains blowing in from the veranda, half expecting to see Grayel standing there with his face twisted in anger. The space was vacant.

  She heard a dramatic sigh. “Our eyes tell all, Love. Look into mine, and tell me with all certainty you have no feelings whatsoever that could potentially spill over during the ritual. That you will feel nothing but the god’s cock thrusting inside you while you gaze into her magical cerulean eyes and make love to her.”

  Her chest tightened at the pause that was even longer this time. Finally, she heard a sharp intake of breath. “No. I cannot say that for certain.”

  Her heart sank.

  “You’re a damn fool, risking so much on an emotion as weak as love.”

  “You are the fool, Lust, if you think the day will not come when it strikes you unawares.”

  She heard a scornful laugh. “That’s never going to happen. But this isn’t about my future. It’s about hers. The Fere-Theo is not some if-at-first-you-don’t-succeed deal. It’s a one-time shot.”

  “I know.”

  “Then you know you cannot go through with this. Or are you secretly hoping the ritual will fail, so Grayel cannot have her?”

  She heard a growl. “Of course not. I have more honor than to do such a thing.”

  “Then do the right thing and back out now.”

  She heard a pounding noise, as though someone hit their fist against a wall. “And say what to the heir of the twelfth realm? ‘Sorry I can’t control myself and want your mate so badly I can taste her’?”

  Lexie raised a hand to her forehead, the latter warm and moist against her cold palm. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. She’d believed in him, had such faith Love would only be beside her to guide her to her mate. He’d given her no reason to doubt that. Not like Lust, who openly used his cock as a divining rod. She’d had no idea Love’s feelings had changed.

  “You don’t have a choice but to tell him,” Lust was saying.

  “He will not be forgiving of such an admission,” Love said. Pain filled his voice. “He entrusted me with this task. No, he entrusted me with her. This is not how I intended to repay that honor.”

  Tears filled her eyes until the room around her vanished.

  “Better to tell him up front than face the alternative,” Lust said. “If the ritual fails, the truth will out.”

  She couldn’t stand to hear any more. With a groan, she stepped into the hallway entrance.

  “This is my fault,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be so…” the image of her wanton behavior on the rug rushed in, “trashy. I led you on, flaunting myself around without any shame or thought to the consequences. Now I’ve ruined everything for me and for Grayel, and have caused trouble for you. You don’t know how sorry I am.”

  The final words were half-strangled by sobs.

  “Lexie,” Love said, his eyes a cloudy sky of pain. “Don’t.”

  She shook her head. “No, please. I am to blame for sending you the wrong signals. I will accept responsibility and tell Grayel the truth.” She shut her eyes and forced calm into her quivering voice. “Then he can find someone more worthy of goddesshood.”

  Lexie turned and ran back to the sitting area, kicking over the bowl of grapes as she went. The beautiful gown lay shimmering on the couch, the gown she would never wear now. She grabbed it up, not certain what she intended to do with it, and headed for her room. Just as she reached the doorway, someone grabbed her upper arm.

  Love spun her around and gently pushed her up against the doorframe. “This is not your fault, do you understand? You have done nothing wrong.” He sighed. “Nothing at all.”

  “I felt attraction for you.”

  “You’re supposed to. The ritual wouldn’t have a chance otherwise.”

  She shook her head, closing her eyes.

  “Look at me.”

  Reluctantly, she complied, finding his eyes a swirling contradiction of blues that were more clouded than she’d ever seen. He held her in place by putting a finger under her chin. “I’m the one who is sorry, for letting you down. You are a magnificent woman, Lexie. And it’s not exactly out of character for me to, well, feel deeply. It is my nature to love.” He glanced off, as if seeing something far away. “Though admittedly, it has been some time since my nature has been stirred this way.”

  Emotions churned inside her like butter. Maybe she’d been too easy in accepting her desire for him, maybe she hadn’t. Either way, a god was about to cross the portal expecting a ritual that could no longer take place. Expecting a goddess who was able to overcome mortal failings. An ache throbbed in her chest.

  “Oh, Love. What am I going to do? I love him.”

  He released her chin, and her head dropped down to where she could see the crystalline dress draped over her arm. She stroked the material longingly, tears blurring the prisms. Then she felt the solution, in the form of two eyes piercing her from across the room.

  She looked behind her to see Lust near the sitting area, watching. His muscled torso was bare, his chest and arms perfectly oiled as always. A bulge was obvious in his black drawstring trousers. When her eyes met the dark fire in his, it set her feet in motion.

  “You have to do it,” she said to him. “You’re the only one who can step in and save the ritual.”

  “Really.”

  She blinked, a bit cowed by his stoic reaction. “Yes, really. Unless you guys happen to have any other hot demigod friends sitting around, you’re the only chance I have to face Grayel tonight with something other than shame and regret.”

  His mouth twisted up, but the result was short of an actual smile. “So, the god you feel nothing but scorn and disdain for has suddenly become your fallback boy. I’m charmed.”

  “Lust,” she began, but he cut her off.

  “There’s just one problem, sweet bread. I was not Grayel’s choice.” His not-smile turned to a sneer. “Seems I was not deemed worthy of the sexual act required.”

  “That was mere semantics, and you know it,” Love said, walking up behind Lexie. “He chose the one of us he thought he could trust with his mate while his back was turned.” She glanced at him, but he cast his eyes downward. “Unfortunately, he chose poorly.”

  The other man ran a hand through the glossy sheen of his shoulder-length black hair. “Maybe I don’t want to be someone’s cast-off choice. I’m a god, not a last resort.”

  Lexie bit back frustration. All this time Lust seemed all too eager to get into her pants. Now that he had a chance to be a sexual hero, he was suddenly playing hard-to-screw? Ugh. How obstinate and irritating he could be, with a side order of god-sized ego.

  An idea budded. Fine. If his ego was what he wanted stroked, she could play. He might even be surprised to see how well.

  She smiled. “Who said anything about you being a cast-off?”

  Her best attempt at a sultry tone surprised her. Apparently the effects of the ritual symbols were aiding her cause. She tossed her h
air seductively, using the moment her head was turned Love’s way to give him a conspiratorial wink.

  Lust tilted his head, his gaze narrowed in skepticism. She dialed up the heat a notch and moved closer. “You and I both know you had me on that beach, heart, mind, and sexual soul. I’d have done anything for you, in front of you, probably to you. All because of your power. I felt it. I owned it. And I still own it now.”

  The skepticism remained, but a molten simmer lit up the liquid black of his eyes. He adjusted the obvious erection in his pants. “So you would give yourself to me willingly?” His tone rumbled low in her belly. “Unabashedly, despite all your curled-lip cynicism?”

  She shrugged, moving closer until the fabric over her arm brushed against his bare abdomen. “Mere denial of what I knew was the truth.” She flicked a pointed gaze back at Love. “What was it I said earlier about Lust, while I was rubbing myself against that delicious Joontana fur?”

  He seemed to catch the hint. “Did you mean the part where you called him fabulously gorgeous and impossible to resist, or the part when you couldn’t believe I hadn’t grabbed the opportunity to fuck him?”

  Lust’s brow shot up. “You’re lying,” he said.

  She shook her head and made a cross-my-heart gesture over the cleavage she was doing her best to push up with her towel. “Every word is true. Face it, Lust, what woman on earth can deny who you are? That would be like denying ourselves. Our desires. Ridiculous.”

  He shook his head. “Seems I was right about us having our hands full with you.” He eyed her carefully, and then bent down until he was right in her face. “So, you won’t go all goody church girl and decide you can’t bear to have the likes of me pumping between those luscious thighs?”

  She swallowed hard, the heat from the paint and his proximity mingling in some hard-to-ignore places. This was where it would be decided. She had to speak fluent Lust.

  “Please,” she said in her best lilting, take-me whisper. “I want you to fuck me, Lust. I’ll never regret it, and neither will you.” She leaned into his attempt to challenge her personal space and let her lips graze his ear. “Or forget it.”

  He pulled back, the fire in his eyes hot and mesmerizing. “Spoken in the words of a true passion goddess.”