Jove’s Realm

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  “This is amazing,” she said. “So much room and yet it’s not cluttered or crowded at all. It almost feels like we’re on a cloud.”

  Jay nodded. “On overcast days, the clouds are sometimes low enough that they surround me. Whether it’s sunny, raining, or snowing, I love being part of the sky.”

  Skye strolled forward, eyes drinking in her surroundings with apparent delight. She stood at the western windows and put her palms against the pane. “My apartment is never going to satisfy me again,” she said in a slow, measured tone. “I’ll feel earthbound and closed in without a view like yours. I don’t suppose there’s another apartment like this one in the building?”

  “No. I own the building and I customized the space for myself. If you like this, wait until you see my garden.”

  “You have a garden?” Skye glanced around as if she expected to find a series of containers or plants.

  “I do, on the roof. When it quits raining, I’ll take you up to see it if you’d like.”

  “I would, but it doesn’t look like it’ll stop anytime soon. Those clouds are still moving in and they look dark.”

  Jay chuckled. He could end the rain whenever he wished. “Oh, I think it’ll stop in a little bit. Let me bring you a towel. I can offer you my robe so your clothes can dry out too, if you’d like.”

  She turned around and made a face. “I got so carried away with your view. I almost forgot I’m soaking wet. Yes, I’d love a towel, maybe two, but I’ll pass on the robe. I appreciate the offer but it’s a little too intimate for me.”

  Ah, yes, he should’ve known. Jay often forgot women in the twenty-first century possessed different notions about how and when sex should happen. They had ideas about what crossed some invisible line of propriety. Ancient women, many of whom he’d taken without much warning, hadn’t bothered with such niceties. They had been his for the taking, but Jay preferred the chase and challenge these modern females presented. “Ah, yes, of course. My apologies. The towels are in the cabinet in the bathroom. It’s over there.”

  Skye flashed a smile and shut the door. A slow, wicked smile spread across his face, warm and pleasing. He headed up to the roof and without getting wet, he waved his hands in a manner much like an orchestra conductor. The rain halted and the clouds began to recede.

  “There, that’s better.”

  Back in his penthouse, Jay poured a vintage Robert Mondavi white wine into two chilled glasses and watched the sun emerge with glorious brilliance. Arms crossed, he leaned back and waited for Skye, eager to see her expression when she noticed the shift in weather. She emerged after twenty minutes, hair swept up into a neat top knot, makeup restored to near perfection, and her blouse almost dry. She must carry a full arsenal of beauty products in her purse or briefcase.

  Impressed, he clapped his hands together with delight. Her nostrils flared as she glared down her patrician nose. “Don’t even go there,” she warned. “I don’t want to hear compliments or macho hooting. As soon as we step outside, I’ll get soaked again and…”

  She noticed the sunshine. Her mouth drooped open and she stared through the windows, then looked at Jay. “I don’t believe it. The sun’s out.”

  “And the storm’s over.”

  “You were right.”

  He always was but he bowed with faux humility. “Yes, thank you for noticing.”

  “Are you that good at predicting weather?” Skye sounded skeptical. “If so, you’ve got the National Weather Service, every meteorologist in the country, and any other weather consultants beat. Care to share your secret?”

  Jay would rather not. “There’s no secret, not really,” he lied. “It’s just a matter of experience. I’ve watched the weather for a very long time.”

  Skye lifted one eyebrow. “Longer than anyone else or the combined experience of decades of data?”

  Her sarcasm delighted him. She possessed fire and spice. He liked flavor in his women, very much. “You’d be surprised.”

  “Would I? Maybe you’re much older than I think.”

  For once, he told the truth without adornment. “I am.”

  And she laughed. Of course, she wouldn’t believe him. No one in their right mind would. But for the first time in centuries, Jay was tempted to tell her who—and what—he was.

  “Let me guess,” she said. “You’re still in your thirties, right? Thirty-six? Maybe thirty-seven? You’re in your prime, Jay, no doubt about it.”

  Her eyes raked over his body with obvious appreciation. “Why, thank you, Skye. I like to think so, anyway. So, tell me, where would you like to go for dinner?”

  She shrugged. “You’re buying, so it’s your choice. I’m not picky.”

  Nor was he, but this occasion demanded something special. “Greek,” he said. “I know the perfect restaurant but it’s far too early for dinner. Have some wine.”

  Jay handed her the glass and she smiled. “Thank you. I could do the interview to kill time until we can go eat and I would love to see your rooftop garden.”

  “Excellent idea.” He adored showing it off in all its splendor. “Let’s go up now.”

  They emerged into the green space where the aroma of blooming flowers hung heavy in the air, sweeter than any perfume. Skye walked into the heart of it with a child’s delight and a grin on her face.

  “This is amazing,” she said. “I can’t believe you’ve managed to get all this to grow so early in the season. It’s barely April. Do you have heaters or something?”

  “Trade secret,” he replied. Since he controlled the skies and the weather, the climate on top of his building remained constant. If he chose, he could enjoy spring or summer year round, and he often did.

  As she leaned over to inhale the scent of some roses, Jay’s crotch tightened. He wanted her, and the curve of her back as she bent enticed him. In the old days, I would have mounted her now, taken her by right and will without a word. Drawn to her, he strolled over and put his hand on her ass, tight against the short satin skirt. He enjoyed the solid feel of her flesh, separated by no more than a thin layer of cloth. When Skye didn’t protest, he slipped his fingers under the skirt and stroked her ass through her sheer hose. To his delight, she wore no panties, and he thrust his hand forward to touch her pussy lips in a bold caress.

  “Excuse me,” she said. Skye stood upright and whirled to face him, her eyes lit with fire. “What in the hell was that? I’m here as a journalist, not as a high dollar call girl. You don’t get to touch me, Mr. Jove.”

  Such umbrage might have impressed him but he saw through the façade. When Jay stroked her, he shared the quiver that shot through her body at his touch. She liked it. I know it, she knows it. A mortal man would have stepped away but Jay came closer. He lifted a strand of her hair and pushed it back from her face. “Oh, I think I do, beautiful Skye,” he said.

  Two steps and his mouth loomed a bare inch from hers. Jay hooked one arm tight around her slender waist and touched his lips to hers. Heat erupted between them with the fiery force of an erupting volcano. Under his mouth, Skye’s burned with potent fire as her lips melted beneath his. She made an odd little sound, part moan, half wordless protest, as Jay increased pressure. He drank pleasure from her mouth and delighted as he sensed her body’s response. From his tingling mouth to his tightening cock, Jay yielded to the rush of desire. There would be no turning back now. He would not, could not quit, until he’d taken her.

  Skye’s hand rested on his shoulder and her fingers twined into his hair as she pulled him closer. He deepened the kiss and added some tongue. When she whimpered in response, he moved his mouth down to the hollow in her throat. Jay let his lips linger there, caressing and teasing. He kissed down to the top button of her blouse, then undid the buttons with his swift fingers. No bra or camisole created a barrier between her lovely breasts, each crowned with a full nipple the size and shape of a ripe purple Moscato grape. Jay couldn’t resist tasting it, his tongue laving it before he suckled it. The salt of her skin, the h
eady fragrance of her perfume, and the tender bud in his mouth combined to enhance his erotic pleasure, so he did the same to the other nipple.

  “Oh, that’s so fantastic,” she moaned. Enjoyment deepened her voice and made it sultry.

  Jay stripped the blouse from her body and cupped her breasts in his hands. He kissed them as he worked down the zipper on her skirt. Skye stepped out of it and he tore away the panty hose. Then he knelt, hands braced on her hips, and licked a slow line down her flat belly. He reached her cunt and parted the lips so he could insert his tongue. Her body convulsed when he did and she cried out.

  With her so ripe and ready, he maneuvered her toward a wide stone bench beneath one of the rose arbors. Jay planted her on her back and thrust into her with powerful force. His shaft filled her to capacity. Around his dick, the walls of her pussy radiated fever hot and clenched tight to keep him in place. Each time he pulled back to enter again, the wild delight spiraled higher as the fires burned with unholy heat. Beneath him, Skye Marcus writhed and cried out, her face suffused with color.

  Oh, yeah. She liked it a lot.

  He pulled back for the final push and rammed home hard. Jay rode the intense orgasm until his spirit soared into the skies, triumphant. In the final moments, Skye shrieked and clutched him. Afterward, he felt so good, he roared with joy.

  Jay stood and pumped his arms toward the sky. Satisfaction gave him a rush of physical delight and the powerful release felt damn good. He glanced down at Skye, still prone on the bench, and a wave of tenderness swept through him. Her beauty pleased him and the way she’d made love impressed him. Jay wanted more, and beyond the physical, he ached to know what she liked. He’d like to make her smile and laugh. In all of his eternity, he took women, then moved on to the next. Lingering and cherishing wasn’t his style, but he yearned to do both with Skye.

  He dropped to his knees beside the bench and Skye opened her eyes. She said nothing but tears formed and threatened to drop. Jay traced her lips with one finger, then leaned over to kiss her with a gentle brush of his mouth. Skye smiled and something within his heart stirred to life, something he had thought was as extinct as the dinosaurs, or as out-of-vogue as the gods themselves. He wanted to ravish her body again, a rare response—but he cared, too. He yearned to protect her and make her life as beautiful as possible in every way he could. He ached for love, but the idea frightened him. If he lost his heart, he could lose himself.

  “Wow,” she told him. “That was impressive, Jay. Very.”

  A Mona Lisa smile stretched her lips, potent with possibility. He lowered his mouth to kiss her bare breasts with reverence. “Get dressed,” he said. “Let’s go eat Greek.”

  At the Villa, his favorite local restaurant, the setting offered a hint of Old Greece. White stone columns, faux grapevines twining through the restaurant, frescos on the wall with pastoral scenes of lambs and deities, set the scene. They settled into a booth tucked away in a dim corner, not far from where a waterfall tinkled and splashed. Jay liked it because a painting meant to be Jupiter had a place of honor on the wall across the way. He had never thought it did him justice, but the artist had managed to capture enough of his likeness. The bronze skin, the lean, athletic body, and the handsome face pleased him, and he wondered if Skye might spot the resemblance.

  They began with potent Greek coffee, strong and complete with grounds in the bottom of the cups with a rich Kotosoupa. The hearty chicken soup with vegetables and large bites of chicken offered a flavorful start to the meal. Jay followed it with a Greek salad and then roast lamb served with potatoes. He loved food and the flavors of his original homeland pleased him most. To treat Skye, he ordered baklava for dessert and they ended the meal with ouzo on ice, the powerful drink turned milky in the glasses.

  “Did you enjoy your meal, kopelia mou?” he asked. He used a simple endearment, one meaning something close to “my girl”.

  “Yes,” she said. “I loved the simplicity of it. Most people order the fanciest things when they go out for ethnic but this was perfect.”

  Jay beamed. “I’m glad you liked it. I strove to pick classic fare, the type of food closest to ancient Greece. This came as close as possible. It reminds me of home.”

  Skye sipped from her glass. “Are you Greek?” she asked. “You have a Mediterranean sort of look about you.”

  As well he should. “Yes,” he said. “I’m Greek but I’m also Roman.”

  Her forehead creased. “Wait a minute. You lost me, I think. You’re Greek and Italian?”

  “Roman,” he said, his tone gentle. “There’s a difference, my dear lady. And I’m both and neither.”

  She laughed. “Okay, I get it. You’re American, I know. I’ve heard it a hundred times probably, so it’s not fresh. I expected something more original from you.”

  Oh, Skye, you wonderful woman, you sweet mortal. I’m far more original than you know.

  “Did you?” he said. “I’m not like anyone you’ve ever known, Skye, and that wasn’t what I meant, not at all.”

  A light blush turned her cheeks pink. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

  “Never.” Jay picked up her hand and kissed it, a gallant gesture. “My heritage is a very ancient one and difficult to sort out. I hope to share it with you, though, sometime.”

  “I’d like that,” Skye told him. “I want…well, I hope to get more acquainted with you, Jay.”

  He wanted to know her, inside and out, every secret and intimate place she possessed. “Oh, I plan for us to spend a lot of time together, Skye.”

  Her eyes sparkled brighter than the stars. “I’m glad. And I still do want to get an interview from you.”

  “Siga, siga,” he said. “There’ll be time enough for that later.”

  There wouldn’t be an interview, Jay decided. No need for one and he had never welcomed the idea. He agreed to meet Skye and now there would be no need for questions.

  When the time seemed right, he would reveal more answers than she could ever imagine.

  Chapter Three

  Two months later

  From the first time they came together, they became a couple, two halves of one whole. Skye spent most of her nights and increasingly larger portions of her days at Jay’s penthouse or in his rooftop garden. He visited her apartment twice but found it too mundane. The beige walls and the square, enclosed rooms made him claustrophobic and he refused to return. He had asked Skye to move in with him and stay. So far though, she resisted, but he thought she would in time.

  Despite their shared hours, neither spoke of love. They used endearments and they enjoyed sex daily. Jay’s appetite for Skye’s body increased and as he became familiar with every curve, each fold, and claimed them for his own, he also grew to know her soul. They discussed everything except his deity and his past. Sometimes they played chess or another game Skye would introduce to him, a word puzzle called Scrabble. He poured fine wines to savor and she often prepared dishes to taste.

  They dined out and ate the finest cuisines the world could offer—Greek, Italian, Indian, Korean, Thai, and French. Together, they feasted on the fruits of the land and the catch of the sea. The weather always suited their mood and Skye had no more than to wish for sunshine or mention rain and it would happen.

  Jay spent less time consulting about weather but cared little. His business was a diversion, nothing more. He possessed untold fortunes he could tap into at will, and should they vanish, he commanded the means to gain more. His accounts, tucked away in more locations than he could count, were fat and full. When you were a god, even if few believed in you, wealth wasn’t an issue.

  Skye kept up her magazine and wrote articles but she hadn’t been traveling the globe in search of stories. Jay had never been much of a television fan but since Skye became part of his life, he watched the box with her on occasion. Several of the entertainment programs commented on her changed habits. Photos of them together had hit the news and created gossip
. She thrived on it. Jay did not.

  On a slow July afternoon, when heat baked the Texas prairie into dust, the temperatures in his garden remained tolerable, even pleasant. Thermometers topped the century mark in the rest of the city but the high in his little paradise remained constant at 85 degrees. Because they spent a large portion of the time in the garden, Jay had added a white Grecian inspired pergola, complete with a rain-proof roof, and beneath it, he added a round canopy bed. The sheer draperies added to the beautiful look, he thought, and Skye adored it. Sometimes they slept there and often made love through the night.

  He watched her sleep, bemused, and brimming full of love. Earlier, they enjoyed a simple lunch of cheeses, bread, and wine, then he had taken her with slow, deliberate passion. Afterward, she slept but he did not. As an immortal, he had no need for sleep, although he indulged it for comfort when he wished.

  Storm clouds darkened the sky west of the city, but he did nothing. If he stopped all the rain except when Skye wanted a downpour, drought would result. Once, centuries ago, it might have amused him to watch crops die and the ground turn to dust, but no longer. He had matured or believed he had. In his association with Skye, Jay thought some of her human caring and fragility might have impacted him. And, for the first time, he had decided it might not be a bad thing if it had.

  A sharp wind blasted across her and blew the curtains outward. Skye stirred, then woke.

  “Hi,” she said. “Did I fall asleep?”

  “Yes,” he told her. “I watched you. You are so lovely when you’re asleep.”

  “Am I?”

  “Oh, you are fair, my love.” The words slipped out unbidden, but he didn’t try to take them back. Jay watched her eyes widen as she realized what he’d said.

  “Am I?” she repeated. “Am I your love?”