Holly's Pledge

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Holly's Pledge Page 17

by Anh Leod


  Glaukos leaned forward and kissed her again then curved his arm around Greg and kissed him too. Greg was surprised to find himself accepting Glaukos’ hot, questing tongue in his mouth. He tasted pleasant, of something only a little more exotic than cinnamon.

  “Oh!” Holly squeaked. “I think you’re as far as you’re going to go!”

  Greg broke the kiss, stopped pushing and held her hips. “Now Glaukos.”

  The man flexed his warrior’s thighs until his cock was positioned below Greg’s gaze. He felt Holly start as her body was invaded by Glaukos’ cock.

  “Now you’re got us both,” Greg said.

  “As long as forever lasts,” she agreed. “I feel ready to come already.”

  Greg felt his muscles trembling. “Yes, just entering you about did me in. That tight little hole.”

  “Go,” Glaukos urged. “I will take my time later.”

  Holly rose a little then seated Greg’s cock inside her again. He held her hips tightly, managing her so he wouldn’t come until after her orgasm. Glaukos adjusted to their movements, muttering what sounded like oaths as Holly shuddered between them both.

  “I love you,” Greg whispered. “I totally adore you.”

  “Ditto,” Holly said. “Oh man, you guys. I love your cocks. We have to do this a lot.”

  Glaukos muttered again. Greg wanted to laugh at his obvious torment but he was too electrified to do more than heave the oxygen in and out of his lungs. He wanted to thrust harder but didn’t want to hurt their woman.

  Holly swallowed hard. He could feel the dew on her back and knew she was ready to go. Ready himself, he reached one hand between her legs to massage her clit.

  “Oh god,” she cried in a strangled voice then came apart, thrashing her head between them. Greg felt the cum working its way through him until it gushed out with a geyser-like explosion, filling her.

  At that, Glaukos picked up their lover as if she were nothing and Greg’s cock slid out. Glaukos moved Holly to the closed door and pushed her against it. Greg rested on his elbows on the bed, enjoying the aftershocks of his orgasm and marveling at the man’s muscles as he flexed and moved against Holly. Her legs were wrapped around his waist and her hands tangled in his hair. Glaukos didn’t spend himself until Holly had screamed twice more.

  After they joined him on the bed, Greg lay flat on the sheet and considered the change in his life. From vampires to gods in such a short time. But he knew, with Holly in his life, that everything was going to work out fine.

  * * * * *

  Holly stopped the car in front of Cherokee’s house to drop off Glaukos. “I’ll get some food and bring it back here.”

  He put his hand on her cheek and gave her a long, lingering kiss. She was so confident and in charge in the daylight, so sure of her place in this mortal world. “I will miss you until you return.”

  She kissed his palm, her eyes sparkling. “You’re sweet. Greg will meet us here soon. He had to run home to get clean clothes.”

  Glaukos glanced at the suit he wore again. It still looked fresh enough, perhaps because he really hadn’t worn it for long. Also, he hadn’t fought in it or even worse, died in it. “I will find something to do until then.”

  “Great!” She grinned. “Tell Cherokee to call me if he wants something special to eat.”

  He nodded and exited the car then walked up the steps to Cherokee’s house. It smelled different here than last time and the door was cracked open. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and peered in. The wide hallway was empty so he stepped into the house. The hallway furnishings had been moved into the center and were covered in white cloths. The room looked like it was full of ghosts. The floor in front of him had a long scrape running down it as though someone had dragged something heavy.

  “An idiot with a ladder,” Cherokee said, coming down the stairs to greet him.

  “What is going on?”

  “The owner is starting the renovations that Dylan suggested. I am moving out for a time next month to go on location for the D’Angelo movie.”

  “You’re going to stay here through this?”

  “No. I am going to stay with Brandi, starting tonight. I will decide where to go next when we come back to Los Angeles.”

  “It is a nice house,” Glaukos said. He had seen it before the work started.

  “Yes, but I do not think I will be doing straight-to-video movies anymore so I should not continue to take my old producer’s hospitality.”

  “Will Brandi let you stay? I know Dylan will not.”

  “There is not much space there because she works from home and Holly is often there working too but perhaps we will buy a house together.”

  Glaukos nodded. He was a simple man but his hope of depending on Cherokee for shelter was not going to work. Where would he stay? How would he supply himself with what he needed to live?

  “I was going to make cappuccino,” Cherokee said.

  Glaukos followed his old friend into the kitchen.

  “I called my contact to get you papers this morning,” Cherokee said. “You should have them by the first of the year.”

  “When is that? I am still somewhat disoriented.” Glaukos sat at a chair next to the table. The kitchen looked mostly undisturbed so far.

  “A couple of weeks. We are going to pack up my new machine here and take it to Brandi’s,” Cherokee said, patting the stainless steel machine lovingly.

  “You have developed a taste for caffeine,” Glaukos noted.

  “Los Angeles runs on it…and other substances. Even for one like me, it sharpens the senses.”

  “I hope you can focus your sharpened senses on deciphering the will of Hades.” Glaukos fingered his suit cuff. “Holly claims this suit is magic.”

  “Could be,” Cherokee said.

  Glaukos was amused by his concentration. “Do you think I am truly mortal? That in some period of time I will die and be judged by my father and uncle?”

  “Could be,” Cherokee repeated.

  “How old do you think this body is?”

  “Young,” Cherokee said, fitting a cup into the machine.

  “But not too young to fight.”

  “You want to join the army? Combat is not hand-to-hand much anymore. You will use weapons.”

  “I like to see the faces of my enemies,” Glaukos said.

  “Not the army then. Want to play the acting game? Ah, there is magic,” Cherokee said with satisfaction as the machine hissed and the espresso came out.

  Glaukos assumed he’d grow to appreciate the smell of espresso. He knew everyone here had been drinking it for some years, but it smelled nauseating. Nothing like ambrosia at all. Of course, he’d never had ambrosia, not being a god or god’s son. Underworld dwellers didn’t eat at all and it would take time to become used to needing food regularly again. He had been too busy on his first trip here to care for his body properly.

  “No, not acting. Or restaurant work.”

  “We will think of something. You will not apply for employment until your papers arrive.”

  “True.”

  “That reminds me.” Cherokee pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket and dropped them on the table. “Here is some money to keep you until then. You will need clothes and mine were a bit tight on that prehistoric warrior body of yours.”

  “Not prehistoric,” Glaukos grumbled, pocketing the money. “My life is reasonably well documented.”

  Cherokee grinned. “Very tragic, you are. I have packed my possessions from upstairs. They are in the living room. If you see anything you need, take it. Most of my boxes are going into storage.”

  “Right. Thanks.” Glaukos was glad to escape the kitchen smells. The Underworld smelled mildly spicy with an undercurrent of musk. No variety like there was here and of course modern smells had their own element of rankness that, while different from the ancient world, could be just as foul. The smell of electricity, for instance, was a hot, burned texture that clung to the back of his t
ongue.

  The furniture in the living room was covered too. He couldn’t see what needed renovating on the main floor. Perhaps the upstairs needed work. He glanced through the boxes, taking a robe in a gift box and a case, still with the tag on, that held miniature men’s toiletries.

  All along there had been sliding sounds and the noise of men’s voices upstairs. Now pounding began.

  A couple of hard cases intrigued him so he opened them. He recognized a guitar in one but the other was much more interesting. A lyre. Why did Cherokee own one of those? The instrument had been popular in his day but hadn’t been used much at all for a millennia or so. He pulled it out and stared. Music. How long had it been since he’d played? He looked in the box again and found a pick. It was as if he were meant to play. One of the shrouded chairs made a comfortable seat as he set the lyre on his lap and tried to recall one of the tunes he used to play in his father’s palace.

  The front door opened while he was in his musical reverie, trying to use the beat of the upstairs pounding to set a rhythm for his music. He tried to ignore the roiling in his stomach caused by the smell of food entering the room.

  “I love that sound,” Holly said. “It’s so earthy and sexy. The notes really get in your blood.”

  His lover’s cheerful voice distracted him. He lost his tune and looked up. “Thanks. I loved to play when I was alive.”

  “Is that Cherokee’s?”

  “Yes. He must have kept it upstairs.”

  “I wonder why?”

  “Maybe he will let me borrow it.”

  “I hope so. You and Greg could play together. It would be nice.”

  “Sure.” He heard a heavy thump over his head. “What is going on upstairs?”

  “I think workmen are tearing out the bathroom fixtures. I’m going to set out the food,” Holly said, after she kissed him on the cheek. “Join us in a minute?”

  “Of course.” He smiled at her, reluctant to leave the lyre. It was such a reminder of being human.

  * * * * *

  While they were eating, Greg came in. He fixed a plate of pancakes and bacon and sat next to Cherokee.

  “What are we talking about?” Greg asked, wincing as a loud bang came from overhead.

  “Still trying to decipher the mess we’ve gotten ourselves into with Panacea and Hades,” Holly said. “And Hermes, Cherokee says.”

  “Huh,” Greg replied. “Really, things haven’t gone badly so far.”

  Glaukos felt his eyes narrow and the pulse jump in his temple. Maybe not for Greg but he was without shelter or a way to provide one.

  “Glaukos wants something to do,” Holly told him. “He’s used to having a job.”

  “He’s royalty,” Greg said.

  “When I was alive I was in our military,” Glaukos told him. “And when I was dead I worked in my father’s court. Being royal does not mean being idle. I have been productive for thousands of years.”

  Greg shrugged. “Time for a vacation?”

  Glaukos wasn’t sure an ancient of his era would have understood the word. “I must provide for myself. I will not be useless.”

  “But you aren’t,” Holly said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

  The table vibrated as another bang shook the house. “What can I do here but pleasure you?” Glaukos asked.

  Cherokee covered his mouth with his hand, obviously trying not to laugh. Clearly he had matured. The old Cherokee would be nearly crying with mirth by now.

  “I like the pleasuring,” Holly mumbled, her cheeks crimson.

  Glaukos leaned over and kissed her on the head. “I like it too, my rodi, but I need work. I need to know I can take care of you, otherwise I am less than a man.”

  “I’ve seen you naked. You definitely aren’t less than a man,” Holly said.

  Glaukos rested his head on Holly’s shoulder. The rumbling overhead intensified as he stood to get some water to drink. He was starting to feel as if he were in an earthquake and scenes from his second death flashed across his mind. Columns crumbling, frescos cracking, his servants pinned under rubble.

  He heard a cracking noise. Was it real or in his memory—the last sound he heard before he died? He looked up and saw the iron light fixture above the kitchen table swaying. Another loud noise and he saw the ceiling crack around the light. He heard the noise of breaking metal.

  “Get out of the way,” he ordered, pushing the round table across the room.

  Cherokee, startled, moved swiftly. His chair flew backward. Greg stumbled out of the way too, but Holly was pinned by fear, staring up at the ceiling.

  “Move!” Glaukos ordered. He ran forward and picked her up, falling to the floor with her only a moment before the fixture crashed to the floor. They rolled away from it, glass crunching beneath them.

  “Bodyguard,” Greg panted, picking himself up from where he had fallen to one knee. “You could be a bodyguard.”

  “Was that the workmen upstairs or a real earthquake?” Cherokee asked.

  Holly coughed. “In Los Angeles? You can only tell by checking the other rooms.”

  Glaukos helped her up. She clung to him for a moment.

  “I’ll check the other rooms for damage,” Cherokee said. “And I had better turn off the electricity.”

  “Where’s the breaker box?” Greg asked.

  “In the garage.”

  Greg opened the door that led from the kitchen to the garage and disappeared.

  Glaukos helped Holly brush off the glass fragments that clung to her jeans then wiped down his slacks with a kitchen towel.

  Holly looked up. “Do you think the ceiling will come down?”

  “It is cracked,” Glaukos said. He unplugged Cherokee’s beloved espresso maker and carried it into the hallway.

  They met Cherokee near the stairs.

  “The hallway chandelier is swaying,” Glaukos noted. “But the ceiling is not cracked.”

  Cherokee took his espresso maker and cradled it to his chest. “I’m still not sure what that was.”

  One of the workmen appeared over the upstairs banister. “Sorry about that. A metal scaffold toppled over. Cracked a bunch of the tiles. Good thing we’re prying them up later.”

  Cherokee rolled his eyes. The chandelier went dark. “We have turned off the electricity for safety.”

  The workman shrugged. “We’ll call in an electrician to check your system.”

  “Great,” Cherokee muttered. He walked into the living room and tucked his machine into an open box then surrounded it with bubble wrap. “I should have moved out last week.”

  Greg came into the room. “Is everything off?”

  “It seems that way,” Holly said. “At least where we’ve been.”

  Glaukos spotted the shine of glass in her hair. “Hold on.” He picked the shard from her curls and dropped it into the fireplace. A rush of warmth swept through him and he gathered her into his arms.

  “What?” Holly said, laughing.

  “If it was an earthquake we could have all died,” Glaukos said. “And I don’t want you dying until you are old and gray. I love you.”

  “You do?” She smiled up at him.

  “Of course.” He answered her smile with his own. “I will figure out my place here but it will always be beside you.”

  She tilted her face and fit her lips to his for a long kiss. He fingered her curls as their tongues tangled hotly together, wishing he could take her right there.

  Greg was peering into the opened boxes and looking around the room.

  “You have a lyre?” he asked, delighted.

  “I did. I don’t know what it’s doing on the chair,” Cherokee said.

  “I’d love to learn how to play.”

  Holly broke the kiss. “Glaukos knows. He can teach you.”

  “Sounds like your first job,” Cherokee told Glaukos.

  Glaukos wrapped his arm around Holly’s shoulders.

  “Hey, you’re a musician?” Greg said. “You can join Rotten To
matoes! We need some way to differentiate our sound. We’ll talk to the band later today.”

  “Sure,” Glaukos said. That might suit him just fine.

  “We need you,” Holly affirmed. “Your knowledge of the gods is probably going to save us a time or two, not to mention your instincts during earthquakes.”

  Glaukos kissed her nose. Greg came to join them, sliding his arm around Holly’s waist.

  “We’ll make a great team,” Greg enthused. “Glaukos, you have to move in with me.”

  Glaukos nodded. “I’d be honored.”

  “See,” Holly said. “It’s all going to work out.”

  About the Author

  Anh Leod is a goddess-in-disguise who hopes readers will enjoy her romantic, erotic stories as much as she enjoys creating them. Her favorite things are love and chocolate. She writes about love because, after all, it’s awfully hard to write about chocolate all the time.

  She also writes as Heather Hiestand for Cerridwen Press.

  Anh welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

  Tell Us What You Think

  We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

  Also by Anh Leod

  Aphrodite’s Necklace

  Bijou’s Bond

  Ex Factor

  Lucky Number Seven

  Men of Myth 1: Claudia’s Pleasure

  Men of Myth 2: Cherokee’s Playmate

  Recreating John Doe

  Find more stories by Anh, writing as Heather Hiestand, at www.cerridwenpress.com:

  Cards Never Lie

  Gunshot Grange

  In Flight

  One Juror Down

  Two on the Hunt

  Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

  www.ellorascave.com

 

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