He concentrated on the drive to the shop. He was very much aware of every molecule of Brea in the next seat. She demurely sipped at the coffee and refused to look at him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her long legs encased in almost perfect-fitting jeans. Her T-shirt only emphasized her small waist and firm breasts. He squirmed a little in his seat.
“You’ve already eaten?” she asked around a bite of bagel.
“No, I’m not hungry. Maybe I’ll grab something later.” He chanced a quick look and saw a tiny dot of cream cheese on her lip. “Please, allow me.” His voice sounded low and deep as he restrained from leaning over, grabbing her by the back of the head and kissing her silly. Brea turned to him, curiosity in her hazel eyes. Slowly, so she could follow his movements, he alternated between watching the road and swiping the renegade cream cheese from her lips. Her lips were soft, and they trembled when his fingers brushed against them. Though he had no need to consume human food, he licked his finger, tasting her more than the cream. He saw her eyes darken in a moment of uncontrolled desire, then it was gone replaced by the ever-competent professional.
“Thank you,” she responded coolly. Jordan nodded, willing the bulge in his pants to mercifully recede.
“We’re here,” he announced, getting out of the car. At last she was going to be alone with him. There would be no friend to act as referee. No room full of people to buffer. It would be just him and her for hours. Alone. He came around and opened the door for her. He could see she clenched the bag tightly in her hand. Cupid leaned in and took the cup from the holder, then held his hand out to help her out of the car. He used his Old World manners, hoping to break down the wall she put up. He had very little time and a lot to accomplish.
Eight: If you can’t stand the heat
The shop was cool and dark as she stepped in cautiously and stopped while Jordan reached around her to flick the light switch. His scent rolled off of him and into her nostrils in light waves. He was close enough that she felt his body heat as he reached around her. Yeah, she could do this, it was cake. She stepped farther into the shop as the lights flickered on one by one. She felt herself plummeting to the floor yet again, but this time she was caught by strong hands, as he righted her.
“Remember, you have to step up just to step on the rug,” he teased.
“Yeah, silly me,” she croaked out of her suddenly very dry throat.
“I keep all the paintings in the back. I catalogued everything and I’m sure I have it here somewhere, I just can’t tell you exactly where.” It was the truth. He had ordered Hermes to hide the paintings among the rest of them so he could say that and not be lying.
“Really, you should get a secretary or something.” Brea followed him to the back of the shop. Why couldn’t she get her blasted heart to slow down? He was just a man for God’s sake.
“No, I have a good friend who handles all the fine details.” Hermes would kill him if he heard him say that.
Jordan opened another door and it yawned into a large room. He flicked on the switch. Paintings were stored in crates without the benefit of labels. There had to be at least a thousand or more. This task could take days. Days of seeing no one but Jordan. Days of fighting her attraction to him and not sure if she would win in the end. “Maybe we should ask Lindie to help, and that friend of yours.”
“Are you backing out?” he challenged her. “I never pegged you for a coward, Brea. It’s just a little tedious, mind-numbing work. You want this painting, you help. That’s my offer.” He concentrated his stare on her.
“I don’t back out of things and I’m not a coward, I just didn’t want to take up all your time, Jordan. After all, aren’t you supposed to be leaving soon?”
“I’ve delayed all plans until you and I have finished our business.”
“I feel honored,” she retorted sarcastically. “Fine, where do we start?”
“Where do you want to start?” There was no missing the double meaning to his words. He stepped so close to her she could see the fine eyelashes and piercing blue of his eyes.
“Wh-where it would most likely be.” Her voice stammered, she cursed silently. She refused to step back. She held her ground. She took that last step that connected her breast to his chest. “Do you have a good idea where you put it?” She could play that game too.
“I can be quite…” his pause was dramatic “…inventive. There are a few choice places I could have put it.” His voice had lowered to a whisper, his hands reached for hers and when she gave no protest he clasped them together. “I want to kiss you, Brea, but I need to know you want it too.” He saw the war in her eyes and waited for her to work it out.
“I would like for you to kiss me,” she said at last.
“No.”
“No?” her forehead wrinkled as she looked into his eyes.
“No. I would like for you to kiss me.”
Leave it to Jordan to turn things around. If she kissed him, she would be advancing things. She would be responsible for taking things beyond the professional. He was giving her the control, when, at the moment, she didn’t want it. “What the hell,” she said out loud and pressed her lips against his waiting ones.
Shyly at first, her tongue stole into his mouth, tasting, exploring. As her confidence grew, so apparently did her desire for him. She teased his tongue into a dance, deepening and then retreating. She wanted him in a heightened state of arousal, just as she was. He let go of her hands and caressed her round bottom, squeezing, and used her hips to pull her lower body into his. He ground his erection against her as she plundered his mouth. She heard the soft moan that slid from her throat. She was on fire. Her desire for him coursed through her, threatening to consume her. His breathing became raspy as he used one hand to hold her head still as he probed his tongue deeper into her mouth.
She relaxed against him, letting him have complete access to her body. He tasted sweet, and felt like granite. She could feel every muscle in his body she was pressed so close to him. Her legs threatened to give out, any excuse to feel him on top of her. She wanted to feel his soft hair fall around her. This was her show, and she could run it any way she wanted. She began to drag him to the floor. She didn’t care that it was cold and hard. He fell in line, going to floor with her, but he twisted around so that she lay on top of him. All the while the kiss was never broken.
Jordan held her hips in place as he ground his cock into her core. She pulled at his shirt from the hem, and her small, warm hand found its way under. She caressed the hard muscle, running her fingernails across the valleys and ridges. The other hand she used to untie his sun-kissed hair. She threw the tie aside and delved her fingers in the silken tresses. His hand, too, had found its way under her shirt, pushing her bra up and out of the way. He then used his forefinger and thumb to roll a nipple. It responded instantly, hardening and elongating for him. He was like an aphrodisiac, sending her common sense to Timbuktu and waving her hedonistic nature home.
They found a rhythm and each rubbed against the other, giving pleasure as well as receiving it. “You have too many clothes on,” Brea panted and began tugging at his jeans. He laughed at her impatience. In seconds she had them unbuttoned and unzipped. He lifted his butt off the floor so she could push them, along with his boxers, past his hips. Then she tore at her own jeans and underwear, pushing them past her hips. “No penetration,” she stated and looked into his sexy eyes.
“No penetration,” he repeated. She was wet with desire as she ground her mons against his cock. Her juices began to coat him, making it so slick and hot between them, they both moaned in unison. She was in a frenzy, like he was injecting desire into her with a needle. He slapped her ass hard and she bucked. Her eyelids were heavy from lust.
“Again,” she demanded, grinding against him wantonly. He complied. The sound was loud in the room. He continued to toy with her nipples as she pushed against his cock.
“Jordan, I’m—I’m,” she gasped as she began to feel the first waves
of her orgasm.
He grabbed the back of her head and forced her mouth to his and their tongues clashed. She shattered on top of him, her body humming as it bucked under the onslaught of her orgasm. He captured her scream in his kiss and seconds later his cock jetted ribbons of seed between them, splashing his belly as well as hers. At last he broke the kiss, and she collapsed, spent, on top of him. They lay there on the floor, their hearts racing, their minds demanding some sort of equilibrium.
“We’re never going to find those paintings this way,” Brea said at last.
“No, but I would be willing to keep trying this method for some time before we give up,” Jordan chuckled.
“I don’t know what got into me. It’s like you’re walking sex or something. I feel this pull to you.” She sighed in pleasure.
“You aren’t alone, Brea. I can’t ever recall wanting a woman so much.”
“You don’t have to say that.” Brea stiffened.
“I know that,” Jordan responded, his voice sincere. “I said it because I meant it.”
“What now?”
“We clean up and look for your paintings.”
“Sounds like a plan, Mr. Areson.” Only this time when she said it Jordan didn’t mind, it sounded more like an endearment between lovers.
The silence was the loudest sound in the room. That and the occasional small thump of canvas as they scoured through the crates. Brea threw herself into the search for the painting. Truth be told, she could have very well laid eyes upon it and never even have known it. Her brain was mush. Her pride was about the size of a grain of sand. Her libido was rocketing out of control. To sum it up nicely, she was an utter and complete wreck. What the hell happened earlier? What was she thinking? Was she thinking? Another painting was pushed forward as she examined the next one she really wasn’t seeing. When she went to flip that one forward it refused to budge. It took a second for her to realize Jordan was holding it in place.
“What are you doing?” she queried, irritated and quite ready to spread it.
“You’re upset, we need to talk.” He knelt down next to her, searching her face, trying to get her to look him in the eye.
“What makes you think I’m upset?” She scooted over to the next crate and began to idly flip through that one as well.
“Because you’ve gone through this same crate three times in the last two hours. I think it’s safe to say that the paintings aren’t in this one.” He moved next to her, stopping her progression in that crate as well. “Please talk to me,” he said softly. This time, against her will, she lifted her eyes to meet his. She hoped he couldn’t see the uncertainty and the shame swimming around.
“Don’t do this, Brea, we did nothing wrong. Nothing to be ashamed of.” Jordan tried to hold her hand but she wiggled away from him, afraid of touching him again.
“Maybe in your life you have casual sex, but I don’t. I don’t know what got into me. I don’t mess around with business associates.”
Guilt stabbed at Brea, its aim true as it consumed her. What happened to her vow to stay away from men? She couldn’t understand why she was sexually drawn to him. Granted he was gorgeous, but the way she was connected to him was almost ridiculous. It was like she was under some sort of spell.
“Truthfully, neither have I.” Brea looked at him in suspicion. It was possible that he’d never fooled around with a business associate. “It’s true, whether you choose to believe me or not. I don’t feel guilty about it in the least. As a matter of fact, I was hoping I could convince you to see me tonight.”
Brea studied the gorgeous guy with his sincere expression and found her resolve melting like an ice cube on a hot sidewalk. Why was she making a big deal out of this? Why couldn’t she just have fun and move on like a man? Once she got the painting she could leave Ashe Bay and never see him again. No harm no foul. No Jordan. Have some fun, Brea said to herself. Have some fun, girl.
“What do you have in mind?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, then I couldn’t watch the way your beautiful face lights up.”
Dammit if the man didn’t know how to make her blush. She was acting like Lindie for God’s sake. She stood up and stretched. Jordan accompanied her.
“Let’s call it a day here. I’ll take you home,” he suggested.
“That’s fine, we’ll just put in double time tomorrow,” Brea agreed, heading toward the front of the store. She could feel him staring at her. She stopped and turned; he hadn’t moved a muscle since he stood up. “What’s wrong?”
“Absolutely nothing.” He leered at her. Only his leering was sexy. “I just like watching you move.” he sauntered her way. “You have one gorgeous ass, lady,” he whispered in her ear as he brushed passed her. Brea blushed.
The small room next to the Olympiad meeting room provided a perfect place for the two conspirators. They double-checked the room and the surrounding quarters before their private meeting began.
“Well?” Psyche demanded, snapping her fingers in impatience. She tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder and gave Eris a hard green-eyed stare. The other goddess merely yawned as she seated herself rather dramatically on the marble table.
“Have a care with that tone of yours, Psyche,” she warned as she stared at her freshly manicured nails.
“Would you please get on with it?” Psyche began again, forcing an amiable tone.
“I couldn’t get a clear, long look. You know how Daddy is about his scrying bowl.” Eris, daughter to Hera and Zeus, also known as Discordia by those who knew her really well, wrinkled her brow. “From what I saw, they seemed to be getting along if that floor action was anything to go by.”
“Damn him!” Psyche yelled, her voice echoing. Eris rolled her eyes. Psyche was such an amateur.
“You do realize, of course, this is part of his condition to remain immortal, hon?” Eris supplied to the fuming goddess. “It’s not actually cheating if, you know, you’re divorced. And from what I understand you initiated the divorce, after your last affair.” Eris cracked her ambrosia-flavored gum. She was truly wasting her time with this one. Psyche was more psycho than wicked, a real disappointment.
“None of that matters. I’ve decided I still love him and want him back. Did he look like he was devastated at all?” Psyche’s voice cracked with emotion.
“No. What do you want him back for? You two haven’t been happy for centuries. Even I couldn’t duplicate that kind of misery. Look, is there something here for me to do? I’m bored, you told me an opportunity had arisen that would allow me to play. So far nothing. What gives?”
Psyche looked the dark eyed Goddess of Discord in the eye and smiled. Eris had counted three mood swings in the last two minutes. This one was a nut job. It didn’t matter though. Not if it allowed her to cause a little bit of mischief. Psyche could be as crazy as she wanted.
“I need you on more of a consultation level. Can you handle that?”
“I can handle anything you got.” Eris snapped her gum. “What’s your goal?”
“To get my wayward husband back, and if that doesn’t work, help strip him of his immortality.”
Eris smiled. Finally, it was time to play.
Nine: Birds of a feather
“This is ridiculous!” Hermes grumbled as he located the paintings he’d previously hidden, just so he could hide them again.
“Just do it. I need a reason to keep her coming here, and if I sell her the paintings she’s going to hightail it out of here as soon as possible.” Cupid kept his back to Hermes as his friend went about his task. “I can’t lie to her, so this is a safe avenue for me. Are you done yet?” Cupid asked impatiently.
“Yes, turn around,” Hermes snapped. “How come I get to do all the tedious, dumb work?”
“Tedious yes, but dumb never. I need you, Herm, you’re the only one on my side. I can’t do this by myself. I can’t shake that nagging feeling that someone up there is out to see me fail.” He pointed upward as if Hermes
couldn’t guess what he was referring to.
“Well, you have pissed a lot of them off,” Hermes supplied.
“Thanks for easing my fears. Oh hello there, Arachne,” he greeted the spider as it appeared on his forearm.
“You know you’re walking quite a fine line with that one.” Hermes indicated his head at Arachne. “That’s using power.”
“No, friend, I was not allowed to use my power. I’m using Arachne’s, with her permission of course.” He gave a rather charming smile to the spider. Hermes grunted in disgust as the spider gave off waves of pleasure. “What do you have for me today?”
“I’m out of here,” Hermes muttered, not keen on seeing his friend charm a spider. It didn’t matter if it used to be human at one point, it was just plain weird.
“Yes, well, don’t go too far, I might need you.”
“Yes, well, I can’t wait.” Then he was gone, leaving Cupid to collect his information in peace.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” Lindie chirped as Brea walked through the door. Lindie was comfortably spread out on the floor, her nose almost buried in a sudoku puzzle book. “When are we leaving?” She took a second to spare Brea a glance before she began staring into the book again, her pencil poised threateningly over the page.
“I didn’t find the paintings,” Brea declared, trying to get into the guest bedroom before Lindie asked any more questions.
“Then why are you back so early?” Lindie scribbled a number in a box, then began to look over each square carefully.
“Uhm, Jordan just wanted to call it a day. We’ll just look for them tomorrow.”
“Okay. Wait a minute.” Lindie erased whatever she’d just written in frustration, then focused her gaze on Brea. “What are you not telling me?”
“You’re imagining things. I’m going to take a bath.” Brea was an inch from closing the bedroom door when Lindie stuck her tiny foot through it.
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