Finding Cupid

by Daisy Dexter Dobbs

  Dake whipped his head down toward where Lula knelt. “What was that?” he asked, looking stunned.

  Lula gazed up at him, doing her best not to utter an impatient tsk. “I already told you. My bow and arrows.”

  Dake’s jaw dropped.

  Such a pity. Sometimes the sexiest looking specimens of manhood turned out to be the ones most lacking in the intelligence department.

  Chapter Three

  Dakin Dronyer felt as though he’d fallen down the rabbit hole or entered The Twilight Zone or something equally farfetched and preposterous. From the moment the luscious, nearly naked Lula had walked into his brother’s flower shop, Dake’s life was turned upside down, inside out and scrambled beyond recognition.

  When the screwy little dame knelt down, supposedly depositing her invisible archery set on the shelf, and Dake heard that unmistakable clunk, he worried that maybe he might be the one who’d lost his marbles and not the little blonde doll with the body made for sin.

  If he wasn’t bonkers, then there had to be a logical, feasible explanation for the clunking noise. Dake got down on all fours, wincing as his full-blown erection lodged uncomfortably against his leg. He peeked into the bottom shelf, expecting to find something else there that might account for the thud and the scraping he’d heard.

  Nothing. The shelf was empty. Maybe she was some sort of a ventriloquist who could throw sound.

  He glanced back up at her, not realizing what a spectacular view his position afforded until he noted the moisture-kissed golden curls at her pussy. It was all he could do not to meet that glistening sweet spot with his mouth, sucking and nibbling until he’d had his fill of her intoxicating juices. He knew they’d be intoxicating because everything else about her made him feel like a drunken man.

  Finally tearing his eyes from the enticing vision, he adjusted his gaze, focusing on her appealing face instead. She eyed him curiously as he reached deep into the shelf. When his fingers connected with something and it shifted beneath his touch, he yelped, yanking his hand out as if he’d been burned.

  Shit. He could swear he’d felt leather and cylindrical rods like…like arrows… No. It wasn’t possible. He was going nuts. That’s all there was to it. Somewhere along the line, he’d had a complete mental breakdown without even being aware of it.

  And if Lula was nothing but a hallucination, then Dake never wanted to get cured.

  His sense of adventure quickly abandoning him, Dake decided he really didn’t want to explore the shelf any further. Nope. What he thought he felt was simply an illusion brought on because…because his mind was probably just playing tricks on him because he was so goddamned horny. Yeah, that was it.

  Or maybe it had something to do with the oppressive hangover he was nursing after all that beer at the new microbrew pub last night. Definitely. It was probably a combination of the two. No need for further investigation, he convinced himself.

  “What do I need to do?” Lula asked, smiling up at him once Dake got to his feet again.

  Oh baby, take my cock in your pretty little mouth and suck it until I shoot my load down the back of your throat, Dake longed to suggest as he looked into her big baby blues. “These are the orders we have to get ready and here’s Zeb’s book with all the photos showing how to put the stuff together,” Dake wisely said instead.

  She was driving him crazy. It didn’t matter that she was wearing that big-ass smock because Dake already knew damned well what was beneath all that material, waiting for him. All that plump, pink soft flesh in need of his attention.

  Without a doubt, the woman was a walking wet dream. Everything about her was sweet, juicy perfection. He felt his cock grow harder at that thought, which seemed impossible. It was getting to the point where it was almost scary, because he sure as hell couldn’t recall his cock ever being this hard or this impatient for detonation before.

  The problem, of course, was the fact that Lula was certifiably loony. A real wacko. At least that’s what Dake thought until the whole invisible bow and arrow thing came up.

  Aside from the incredibly weird—not to mention utterly impossible—arrow thing, there was the fact that this woman was walking around the streets of Portland just about as close to nude as you could get. Not that that in itself was really all that strange. Portland was known for its eccentric street characters.

  But Lula was different. She was beautiful enough to start a riot in the streets for one thing. And, aside from her crazy talk about Cupid and being a student at his school on Olympus, she seemed to be pretty intelligent. Her mind just seemed sort of…tousled. Like her curly blonde hair.

  And then there was that business about her being convinced she was a nymph. With invisible wings, no less.

  “Would it be all right if I substituted some amaryllis, hydrangeas, tulips and ranunculus in this arrangement?” Lula asked him. “I just think the colors and shapes would blend together so beautifully, Dake, don’t you?”

  “Hey, knock your socks off, cutie.” He winked.

  “I’m barefoot today,” she answered seriously. “But I can knock off my sandals if it pleases you.”

  “Uh, no…that’s okay.” Dake drew in a deep breath, expelling it slowly. “What I meant,” he clarified, “is go ahead and make up the flower arrangements any way you like, as long as they look good, because we have to please Zeb’s customers.”

  “Absolutely. I shall make each arrangement as splendid as possible. Zeb won’t be able to keep himself from giving me a high grade on this floral task. I’ll make Cinnamus proud of me yet.”

  “Right,” Dake offered, watching her bustle around, humming some haunting melody as she got to work. “If you say so.”

  The most uncanny thing of all was that Lula was just as hot to fuck Dake as he was to fuck her. He had no doubt about that because she certainly made no bones about it. Oh yeah, she wanted him all right.

  Not that he didn’t have plenty of hot babes proposing the same sort of thing to him on a fairly regular basis. In fact, he usually had more women than he could handle and juggling them all could sometimes be a problem. It really wasn’t all that surprising. After all, he was a good-looking guy and he kept himself buff. But this was…different. Lula was different.

  She had an extraordinary way about her that made Dake feel like he was a prepubescent kid back in school again, ogling some gorgeous unattainable chick or curvy off-limits teacher and getting all tongue-tied and dry in the mouth at the very idea of talking to her.

  He’d never had a woman so openly and plainly express an interest in enjoying a bout of sizzling hot sex while somehow managing to come across like a sweet, wide-eyed virgin. What a turn-on. Lula brought out his protective instincts. Made him feel like a caveman. Made him want to beat his chest and howl.

  He watched and listened as Lula flitted about, waiting on customers and making the shop feel alive with her dazzling smile and vibrant personality. The flowers didn’t seem so smelly or bad to be around anymore. In fact, Dake could imagine forking over a tidy sum to his younger brother for a truckload of blooms just so he could toss Lula in the middle of all that soft, fragrant color and fuck her brains out.

  “Do you know that man?” Lula asked as one of the customers left the shop. “His name is Mr. Winshaw.”

  “No, why?”

  “He has a mistress,” Lula informed Dake indignantly. “He actually bragged to me about it. Can you imagine? And I do believe from the conversation that, if I would have encouraged him, he would have asked me to become a second mistress.”

  “He got fresh with you?” Dake said, feeling that unfamiliar protective thing kick in again and prepared to duke it out with the short, paunchy bald guy who just left.

  “No, not really. I started asking questions about his wife and that slowed him down a bit,” Lula explained. “I convinced him that whatever he bought his mistress should be dwarfed by the arrangement he chose for his wife. And then I signed him up for the flower of the month delivery program—for his
wife only. It’s the least he can do for her, considering his philandering ways, don’t you think?”

  “You’re pretty amazing,” Dake told her. “You know that?”

  “I can be at times,” Lula answered matter-of-factly. “Especially when I’m paying attention and don’t let my thoughts drift. Do you think Cupid will be pleased with the way I handled Mr. Winshaw?”

  “By selling him a subscription to the flower of the month club?” Dake chuckled as he thought of the euphoric whoop of joy Zeb would give when he found out about the pricey transaction. “Trust me, he’ll be thrilled.”

  Lula was an anomaly, an enigma, and Dake couldn’t fucking wait to learn everything about her, from the tips of her phenomenal tits to the secrets within that golden-topped pussy to…yeah, even to her screwy mind and how it worked. If he believed in such things Dake could almost imagine that Lula really was from another planet, or Olympus, or wherever—somewhere other than Portland, Oregon, USA.

  Suddenly he couldn’t wait for Zeb to return because Dake’s whole body was itching to get Lula naked and do all sorts of carnal things to her. Yup, as soon as Zebulon got back to the shop, Dake would be able to do a lusty in-depth exploration of the intriguing Lula, but first they had to scramble to finish up all the flower shit that had to get done.

  It was miraculous that his dick hadn’t already burst out of his jeans and somehow soared into her pussy like a heat-seeking missile while he’d been working alongside Lula for the past hour. Dake swore to God he’d never been so damn hard and geared up for fucking in all his goddamn life.

  But first things first, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time. And that would be Zeb’s damned flower orders.

  If it weren’t for Lula’s amazing speed and creativity when it came to the construction of detailed, striking floral arrangements, Dake would have screwed things up for Zeb big time. And the customers loved her…especially the male customers.

  Dake actually found himself getting jealous when she received too much attention, which was weird because he hadn’t been jealous over a girl since he was a kid in school and Janie Swanson broke his heart when she left him for some freckle-faced punk.

  Lula seemed to be a natural at all the flower stuff, right down to which blooms were edible and which, like the azaleas and hyacinth, weren’t. She happily furnished customers with the occasional demonstration, encouraging them to take a nibble on the gardenias, lavender and honeysuckle, while cautioning them not to ingest the honeysuckle berries because they were poisonous.

  She could make the most boring topic or discussion interesting because of the way she bubbled with enthusiasm.

  Hell, if Dake had walked into Cupid’s Headquarters looking to pick up a bouquet of flowers, he would have walked out buying all sorts of stuff he hadn’t intended on too, just the way it was happening with most of the customers Lula helped. Dake was so busy ringing up sales on the register and writing up orders because of Lula’s suggestions that he almost didn’t have time to turn around. Or think about his aching cock.

  Okay, that was a lie. Appeasing his cock was definitely the number one thought occupying space in his mind.

  “You have an amazing knowledge about flowers,” he told her, hoping to distract his lusty thoughts. “Have you worked for a florist?”

  “No, I just love flowers. I took a course in botany one year. That’s where I learned so much.”

  “Where, at the university?”

  Lula shook her head back and forth. “At the academy, on Olympus.”

  “So…” Dake started, not quite sure how to proceed, “just to make sure I have this straight, when you say Olympus, you’re referring to some little town outside Portland. Or maybe in some other state…here in the USA, I mean, right?”

  Lula laughed. She had a clear, tinkling, beautiful laugh that made her eyes sparkle. “Oh Dake, you have such a wonderful sense of humor,” was her response.

  “Which means you’re talking about the mythical place with all the gods and goddesses and Hercules and—”

  “And Cupid and Apollo and Jupiter and Minerva and all the rest. Yes, exactly, that’s what I mean. You may know it better as Mount Olympus.” She smiled up at him as she finished placing a full sprig of baby’s breath in the floral arrangement.

  Just as Dake was about to pursue a line of questioning relating to the fact that Lula thought she was a nymph with invisible wings, the door to the shop jangled and Zebulon Dronyer crossed the threshold.

  “Tada! Cupid has returned!” Zeb announced with a grand flourish as he traipsed toward the front of the shop, arms loaded with bags and boxes.

  “Cupid!” Lula shouted, bouncing in place, making Dake sorry she wore the blousy smock because he could just imagine those big breasts of hers springing along in time to her exuberant movements. “Oh I’m so glad you’re finally here. I thought I might never meet up with you.”

  Divesting himself of packages, Zeb eyed Lula over his shoulder. “Well, aren’t you the little darling,” he said, donning a pink smock, turning up the collar and zhuzhing the sleeves to mid forearm. “Dakin, wherever did you ever find this adorable little breath of fresh air? She’s so unlike your other…friends.” Zeb engaged in a snarky laugh.

  “Well, I—”

  “It’s me, Lula!” she burst in, as if that would explain everything.

  “Lula, hmm?” Zeb said, walking toward her. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, sweetie pie, I’m Zebulon Dronyer, otherwise known as Cupid.”

  He offered her a long-fingered bejeweled hand, which she clasped and shook with enthusiasm.

  “And this,” he made a broad gesture, “as I’m sure Dakin has already informed you, is Cupid’s Headquarters, my humble little spot of floral heaven here in Portland. Oh good gawd, Dakin!” he gasped, catching a glimpse of the striking, colorful arrangements lined up on the counter. “These are sensational. Exquisite. I’m amazed. Speechless! You really learn fast, brother. See, I told you that you have an inner woman.” He winked.

  “It’s Lula’s handiwork,” Dake said. “Every bit of it. Except for this.” He reached beneath the counter and plopped a sorry-looking vase with an even sorrier-looking bunch of droopy flowers and leaves in front of Zeb, who recoiled in horror.

  “Thank the Lord for Lula. Why didn’t you tell me your new girlfriend is a floral arranger?” Zeb gave Lula another admiring appraisal. “Now that’s what I call convenient.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” Dake told him. “She’s—”

  “Pity,” Zeb said.

  “She’s a nymph…from Mount Olympus,” Dake finished, twirling his index finger at his temple indicating Lula’s lack of mental stability while she focused her attention on Zeb.

  “I’m in the Perfect Love Matches 101 course,” Lula offered. “Cinnamus is my instructor.”

  “He’s the guy who flew her here…in his chariot,” Dake further edified.

  “Is that so?” Zeb said, taking Lula’s hands in his and giving her a warm smile. “Well, darling, you can just consider yourself hired until your chariot comes dashing back to get you. Your artistry is simply extraordinary.” He fingered one of her floral arrangements, clearly marveling at Lula’s creative skills.

  “You mean I can work here?” Zeb nodded. “Wonderful! I do so enjoy working with flowers, Cupid. Oh!” Lula’s hand flew to her mouth as she scanned the area. “I’m sorry,” she continued in hushed tones. “I forgot. I should be calling you Zebulon while you’re in your Earthly guise as a flamboyant gay florist, shouldn’t I?”

  Zeb laughed out loud at her judicious observation. “It doesn’t matter at all, my lovely little nymph,” he said. “You may call me whatever you like, as long as you promise to stay and work for me.” Clasping Lula’s hand in his, he leaned over and kissed it. “Mmm, you are simply delectable.”

  “The chariot won’t return for three whole days, so I’ll be able to get plenty accomplished,” Lula assured him.

  “Please don’t encourage her, Zeb,�
� Dake warned. “She honestly believes all that fairytale stuff.”

  “So what? A little fantasy never hurt anyone, I always say,” Zeb replied with an elegant shrug. “Besides, she doesn’t seem depressed or suicidal or harmful to others. You’re not any of those things,” he asked Lula, “are you, darling?”

  “Oh no.” Lula shook her head negatively. “Aside from being somewhat absentminded and maybe a little forgetful and…well, just a bit disorganized, I’m quite normal.”

  “See, Dakin?” Zeb said. “She’s just as normal as you or me.”

  “Yeah, I’d say she’s just about on your level of normalcy,” Dake retorted. “But don’t toss me in the mix, okay?”

  “Will any of the other students be working with me here?”

  “Alfred is the only other student currently in my employ. He’ll think you’re just yummy.” Zeb winked. “Oh for heaven’s sake,” he said to Dake. “Get that vicious attack dog look out of your eye. Alfred is gay. My, my, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get jealous before.”

  Dake blew out a stream of air. “I am not jealous,” he lied.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Zeb turned his attention to Lula. “So just how old are you, darling? Twenty-five? Certainly no more than thirty at most.”

  Lula giggled. “Oh Cupid, you flatter me. I’m three hundred fifty.” She beamed a proud smile that telegraphed utter disregard for her supposedly advanced age.

  “Three hundred and—” Dake choked out, unable to finish because a sane, rational response simply escaped him.

  “I see,” Zeb said, as if Lula’s absurd answer was the most ordinary response he’d ever heard when asking a woman her age—which was never a wise thing to do as far as Dake was concerned. “Well, perhaps it’s time my brother spent some quality time with an older woman. I’ve heard they can do wonders, Dakin.” Zeb gave a devilish smile.

  “Brother?” Lula turned to Dake. “I don’t understand. I thought you said you were mortal. How can you be one of Cupid’s brothers if you’re mortal?”