by Anh Leod
Cherokee’s eyes slitted. “I’ve been alive too long to believe that, Holly. But for Dylan’s sake, I’ll be nice.”
“I’m sure he’ll show you his appreciation when he gets home,” she retorted.
“That’s still a week away.”
“I’m sure Brandi has you covered.” Holly forked up her last half slice of toast and swallowed it down almost without chewing. “I’ll get out of your way.”
Cherokee watched the young woman slurp down the last of her espresso. She needed to learn to slow down and enjoy the finer things. He held his own counsel while she grabbed her purse and left the room.
“Why haven’t you emailed Olympus?” Brandi asked softly, her hand on his arm.
“The news may not be good,” he admitted. “Glaukos is normally glued to that computer a portion of each day.”
Brandi sighed. “I hope Holly can find happiness with Greg.”
“A mortal?” Cherokee scoffed. “After she has tasted the fruits of one like Glaukos with a sexual history stretching thousands of years? Hardly.”
“I’m perfectly happy with Dylan,” his lover gently reminded him.
“You share him with me! It is not the same at all. Besides, Dylan is a grown man. Greg is a youth.”
“I think he and Holly are the same age. The same age as me.”
“She is succulent with youth,” Cherokee mused.
Brandi punched him in the arm. “I’m not exactly elderly yet. Same age, remember?”
He wouldn’t tell her he could smell the mortality on them all, their individual clocks ticking. He wasn’t immortal but there was no comparison to regular mortals. He was a demi-god. “I think you are half a year beyond them in age.”
Brandi tucked a curl behind one shell-like ear. “Right. I guess Dylan might have told you her birthday.”
Cherokee nodded. “Of course.” He kicked his chair back.
“To email? You want me to get your laptop from the den?”
“No, let’s go to my bedroom.”
Brandi licked her lips. Cherokee could almost taste the maple syrup that lingered on her breath. “I suppose email won’t take long.”
“Exactly, cara mia.” He leaned close enough to take those lush lips in a brief kiss then stood.
He’d left his laptop on the long, low chest in his large bedroom. Actually, he had two computers. One for the mortal world and one for the other world. That one didn’t need charging. Brandi hadn’t seen him using it yet. The gods could invade mortal computers and his father had taken advantage of that fact so he’d talked Hermes into giving him one. Supposedly it was more private.
He’d been asking too many favors from Olympus lately. It was a bad habit to get into.
When they reached his bedroom, Brandi leaned back seductively on his large red and gold art quilt. The bed was big enough to contain both of his lovers alongside him and frequently did.
She patted next to her. “Join me?”
Cherokee picked up the silver-finished computer. “Of course.” He perched next to her and pulled up his legs.
“You could have been a gymnast,” Brandi observed with admiration in her eyes. “So flexible.”
He preened at his lover’s lustful gaze and nearly was distracted. “Hush, woman. I have instant messaging to do.”
“Poor ancient,” she cooed. “It’s so hard for the elderly to use technology.” She sat up and kissed his neck.
“Stop distracting me,” he ordered. “I am not familiar with this machine yet.” He lifted the lid.
Lights flashed as the screen came online. He heard Brandi’s indrawn breath.
“What kind of computer is it? I’ve never seen a home screen like that?”
“It is in Greek.”
“Yes dear, but it’s more than that.” Brandi stretched an index finger toward the screen. “It looks so three dimensional.”
He batted her finger away. “Do not touch. It is not mortal.”
“Oh.” He saw the glint in Brandi’s eye. She loved technology.
“Will it be available in the mortal realm soon?”
“How should I know? I’m an actor.”
She rolled her eyes. “Where’d you get it?”
“Hermes.”
Brandi frowned. But his mortal knew him well enough to know he meant the god, not the luxury retailer. “A gift?”
“Not exactly.”
“You asked for a favor? After making such a big deal about the consequences of having Panacea help Ellery?”
“I got this computer a few weeks ago, before Glaukos came.”
“What was the cost?”
“I do not know yet.” He’d told his lovers far too much, it seemed, when they could anticipate his own fears.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Brandi said in a soft voice. “I love you.”
He set the laptop aside and embraced her. “Do not fear. I am strong.”
“I know that but I’ve also seen you vulnerable.”
“Only to my father.”
“He’s the only one with that kind of power?”
He shrugged. “No, but he is the only one who would care about a half-breed like me.”
“We need you,” Brandi said. “Right here in our silly mortal world. We didn’t make you come here but we found you, so don’t mess up, okay?”
“You think someone will come for me like they did for Torc?” He had admittedly considered that but he didn’t have enemies. Well, not too many. Torc had been an enemy and perhaps responsible for the Halloween attack.
Brandi stroked his leg. “I don’t want you dying and only able to come back for thirty days at a time in some borrowed body. Did you see how sad Holly has been? Only one night with Glaukos and he seeped right into her marrow. You legendary Greeks are addictive on some level that I don’t think you understand.”
“You chose me,” he said, his cock hardening at her touch. “I have not addicted you to me.”
She walked her fingers up his leg. “Sure you have, but not in a bad way. You’re larger than life and the sex is out of this world. How can you expect a mortal man to compete?”
He grinned. “There is that.”
She leaned forward and he met her pillow-soft lips with his own. He didn’t need the powder and paint on her modern face, just her—fresh with morning and coffee and French toast. Her breath was delectable, her lips soft. He moved back and cleared his throat.
“Temptress. I need to work here!”
She giggled and flopped down on the quilt, then pulled her knees to her chest. As he watched, her legs went into the air, her feet coming to rest over her head in a yoga pose.
Hmmm. He hadn’t taken her yet like that. How long could she stay comfortable in that position?
“Don’t get any ideas,” came a muffled voice. “I can feel your lust.”
“You created it.”
He could sense her smile, but resolutely, he focused on the laptop. Who should he contact? Someone with a tie to the Underworld. Maybe he could reach King Minos, though Glaukos probably handled his email. He scrubbed his forehead with his hand. Persephone was too high in the pantheon to even accept contact from him.
Of course! Hermes was connected to the Underworld! He escorted the few souls of true believers who still descended to the Underworld, and if there were heroes he would have taken them too. Hermes would know. If Glaukos had been in his original body the god certainly would have been the escort.
He signed into his instant message account on the Olympus messaging system and searched for Hermes. An ancient Greek curse he’d heard his father using escaped his lips. Not online. He saw Charon’s name but the Underworld ferryman always demanded payment for services. More debt would not be wise.
A name that sounded vaguely familiar lit up. Desdemona. An image of long, blood-red nails came to mind. Wasn’t she Glaukos’ stalker? A lover from long before Cherokee’s time, she’d never given up on his friend. Immortal demonesses had all the time in the world, he supp
osed.
He clicked on her name, flashing red in ancient Greek script. A box opened with his online moniker to the left.
caoneandonly: Are you Glaukos’ friend Desdemona?
Might as well butter her up by calling her a friend. He waited, killing time by watching Brandi do her stretches. Flashing him a grin, she went to a bare space along the wall and did some sort of yoga headstand. Again, he considered the sexual possibilities but he didn’t like the way her face was turning red.
“Do not stay like that for long,” he said. “I do not want you to faint.”
His computer pinged and he turned back to it.
Desdemona: Yes
caoneandonly: What has become of him? My information brought him to the mortal realm and I saw him take Torc.
Desdemona: Hades was not happy with his victory.
Cherokee cursed again. Brandi gracefully returned her legs to the bed and moved into the lotus position.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know yet.”
caoneandonly: And?
Desdemona: As punishment, he made Glaukos Torc’s guard.
caoneandonly: In what realm?
Desdemona: Somewhere beyond my influence. His father can’t find him. He is buried like Acalle.
Cherokee swallowed hard. Surely she meant he was hidden as well as Acalle’s shade would be, merely because she was one shade drifting among billions, not that he was lost forever. He was saddened that his friend had lost his cushy job working in his father’s court. Torc would not be much company, especially in a rage. Particularly, he was unhappy to relay this news to Holly. Though he knew it was unwise to trust a demoness, her words had the ring of truth.
He put his hands back to the keyboard to write again, but each finger he put down became stuck. Alarmed, he tried to twist his index finger off the F key but could not. He went rigid and tried to think.
“What’s wrong?” Brandi asked again.
“I do not know.” Ice was creeping up the joints of his fingers. Had the demoness played a trick on him?
On the screen, the Greek letters flared and reformed. Okay, now he knew what was going on. Even as the icy feeling moved from his fingers to his palms, he saw his father’s wild-eyed face on the screen, made of tiny letters.
“My father. Get back!” he warned Brandi.
Instead, she dropped from her handstand and leapt to his side, then scrambled behind him, hands on his shoulders.
“What’s wrong? I don’t see anything,” she said. “The screen is blank.”
“Playing with mortals again?”
Cherokee couldn’t hear his father speaking but the mouth moved sardonically and he could read the lips.
“She is under my protection,” he told the screen.
“Huh?” said Brandi. “Who are you talking to?”
Suddenly, the ice on his hands was gone. He had stiffened his body and the release had him falling backward on Brandi. His weight pushed her into the bed. She coughed as he pressed the breath from her lungs. Cherokee heard his father’s laugh on the air. Some essence of his father was in the room.
He sat up again quickly then clutched his chest as his father made a less than playful grab for his soul. How could he? He’d had plenty of sex. Hadn’t he? Even with Dylan out of town? Maybe not.
“Your father?” Brandi asked, wheezing.
Cherokee swept the laptop to the floor. It bounced on the fluffy rug that covered the hardwoods and his soul slid back into his body. Again, he fell back on the bed, but Brandi got out of the way in time. His father was gone.
“I did not know he could invade the Olympus computer,” he told Brandi as her dark eyes assessed him.
“Are you under assault now?”
“He stopped. I have time.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t make love last night,” Brandi said. “We’ll remedy that right now.”
Cherokee closed his eyes as Brandi undressed him. Men didn’t cry but he felt the faintest hint of moisture in the corners of his eyes as she caressed him lightly with her hand then put her luscious lips to the head of his cock. His love. What would he do without her?
Slowly, she worked her mouth down his cock until she reached the root. Each caress of her tongue warmed his skin. As he hardened and grew too big for his lover to take, she lost ground until she only had the tip in her mouth. She released him with a sucking sound and a final swirl of her tongue.
“Yum.” She looked up and made sure he could see her licking her lips.
Red lips made him think of readied pussies. He couldn’t hold back his smile.
She grinned and left his side for the thirty seconds it took to find a condom. After sheathing him, she got to her feet, straddled him on the bed and shimmied her robe up.
He admired the way her high-cut black panties made her legs look even longer than they were. She had slimmed down a pound or two since she had started aggressively working out with Dylan and her thighs looked round and muscular.
His cock twitched as she slid down her panties and gracefully kicked them off each tapered foot. Her bare pussy was damp, swollen and inviting. He could smell her arousal.
“Let me eat you,” he growled.
“No, you need a good fucking,” Brandi said. She dropped to her knees and took him inside her in a quick sheathing that left him breathless.
He moved his hands up and down her torso as she rode him, enjoying the texture and heat of her youthful skin. She smelled like baby powder and cucumbers, an odd combination he attributed to a salon trip she had made yesterday. Soon the hot smell of their lovemaking would fill the air and banish the other scents, including the lemon polish the housekeeper had used on the furniture last Friday.
He loved it when musk filled the air. It reminded him of those pleasure-filled days in the hall of the muses on Olympus. Those days of his later youth when his father had not yet noticed him.
He swallowed a groan when Brandi ground against him, starting some kind of dirty rhythm with her hips that she’d been perfecting. It was enough to shatter his mind, the way this woman moved.
“You have talent,” he told her as he thrust his hands into her long, curly black mane.
She leaned forward willingly and took his tongue into her mouth. He danced it around her teeth, mimicking her hips until even he needed to gather his breath. His father had sucked some of the life out of him. Soon he had to take control of Brandi’s hips, pulsing up into her in short, deep strokes.
Stars danced behind his eyes. “I cannot keep this up.”
“I’m coming,” Brandi said, tossing her neck back. “Let go!”
He obeyed, magma-like cum flowing out of him even as heat reentered his torso. His soul locked into his body as he was saved yet again from his father.
Brandi pulled off him and collapsed onto his chest. “Yummy,” she said. “It’s always yummy with you.”
“You are a lifesaver.”
She smiled into his neck. “It’s a pleasure to service you.”
* * * * *
On Monday night, Holly got out of Greg’s car, which they’d parked in the garage behind her house since Dylan’s car was at the airport. He started kissing her before they’d even left the garage. She clung to the doorjamb for a minute as his lips caressed her neck. Her nipples tingled but she also felt a gust of wind rip through her light jacket. She’d left her hat and gloves in her own car and so hadn’t had them handy when Greg picked her up for dinner.
“C’mon.” She ran toward the back porch. Greg caught her hand and pulled her to him. She laughed and let him catch her, his hot breath heating her cold lips for a moment.
“It’s December,” she protested.
“Isn’t that a fireplace on your deck?” he asked. “We could light it and make love there.”
“Or not,” Holly retorted. “Suggest that me again in April. Even Los Angeles isn’t warm enough for nudity in December.”
Somehow he got his hands under her jacket and caressed her
hips. “We don’t have to get that naked.”
She laughed. “I’m wearing pants, you horndog!”
“I can’t wait until April.”
“It’s not going to hit seventy degrees outside again until then.”
“The fireplace will get it warm enough if we push the sofa close.”
“Or set it on fire,” Holly said.
“I’ll set it on fire,” Greg promised. “I mean, set you on fire. It will take so long to get indoors and there’s a fire already set. I even see a lighter.”
Holly could tell this was what he really wanted to do. Especially since it wouldn’t take more than a minute to unlock the French doors and go down the hall to her nice warm bed. But maybe she wasn’t ready to have him there anyway. She might freeze up when she saw Greg instead of Glaukos in her bed. Secretly, she’d been hoping Greg would take them back to his place but he’d taken her to an upscale pizza place by her house then back home, saying he knew women liked to be near their stuff on weeknights so they could get ready for work the next morning. Which she supposed was true. And thoughtful.
“Okay. Light my fire, baby.”
Greg grinned and reached for the long-nosed fire lighter. He thumbed the switch then lit the newspapers stuffed under the logs. Holly helped him push the wicker sofa close to the fireplace before she collapsed onto the water-resistant cushions.
She debated exactly how naked to get and settled for shimmying out of her pants and panties. Her top, jacket and black knee-high socks would have to stay. Greg was going for ambiance, not nudity.
“Do you have a condom?” she asked.
He put his hand on the fireplace lintel and turned, his hand in his sports coat.
“Very debonair,” she said.
“What?” He pulled his hand out of his coat, holding three connected condom packets.
Holly laughed. He hadn’t been assuming a pose after all. “You’re adorable. Come here.”
Greg did a double take when he saw her almost naked lower half.
Self-conscious, she tugged down her shirt and crossed her ankles.
