A Maid for the Titan (TITANS, #2)

by Lazu, Sotia

  Nikolas looked stunned. “What did I do?”

  “You didn’t have to do anything. I know your heart.” Hyperion’s voice was full of gravel and menace. His shoulders were squared, and he leaned forward, like he was about to attack.

  Olivia should be scared, but his wrath wasn’t aimed at her, and something told her it never would be. She should also speak and defuse the situation, but she could only stand back and watch.

  “I don’t want you around her again. Ever,” Hyperion said.

  “What?” Olivia planted her hands on her hips. “This is ridiculous. Why are you being so rude?”

  “Now,” Hyperion roared at Nikolas, as if she hadn’t spoken.

  She bit back her ire long enough for Nikolas to scramble out the door. “What was that all about? Nikolas is my friend.” Not really, but they’d worked the same shift since she got here, and he was fun.

  “He thinks I only hired you because I’m fucking you. Wishes he could have fucked you first. Believes you owe him, for being nice to you.” Hyperion rounded in on her, spitting the words out. “I could kick him out, or I could kill him. I went for the option I thought you’d prefer.”

  His face was inches from hers, his nostrils flaring. She should be asking how he knew what Nikolas thought. What rumors Nikolas was spreading. Why Hyperion was so casual, talking about killing a man.

  She couldn’t focus on anything beyond Hyperion’s scent and his eyes and the warmth emanating from his body.

  “Was I wrong?” Hyperion whispered. “Is the thought of me killing him what has you wet and panting for me?”

  She should be upset. No man had the right to talk to her this way, least of all her boss. His protectiveness was sexy and made her feel safe, but she didn’t need a knight in shining armor.

  She opened her mouth to say so, but what came out was, “Kiss me.”

  Hyperion’s eyes shone gold. He wrapped one arm around her waist, cupping her butt cheek. Too forward, but she couldn’t complain, because he crushed his mouth to hers. His kiss was hungry. Primal. Raw. He bit her bottom lip, and when she moaned, pushed his tongue between her lips. There was no timidness in how it sought out her own. No hesitation, as he swallowed her groans, kneading her buttock. He grabbed her ponytail with his free hand and snapped off the tie holding her hair in place. Her shoulder-length tresses tumbled loose, and he buried his hand in it and tugged, tilting her head so he could deepen the kiss.

  The wanton woman who’d taken over Olivia’s body trapped his leg between hers and pressed her center against the hard muscle of his thigh. She needed... something. His erection dug into her stomach. He wasn’t close enough. Clothes were in the way. They should disappear, so she’d feel more of him.

  All of him.

  Was this her, mewling? Hyperion got to her in a level no other man had. Her arms, slack at her sides till now, wrapped around his neck of their own accord. She bit his lips and humped his leg. She was feral in her desire.

  What was she doing?

  Not enough.

  Hyperion slid his hand lower, pressing his fingers along the inside seam of her jeans.

  She arched her back, wanting more of his touch. Offering more of herself to him.

  He could lay her on top of the food cart and take her, and she wouldn’t resist. Worse—she wanted him to.

  This wasn’t her. Whatever power this man held over her libido was out of her control.

  But Hyperion let go of her hair to cup one needy breast, and she forgot to be worried.

  Until the next knock on the door.

  “Ignore it,” Hyperion whispered against her mouth. He inched his palm under the hem of her shirt and paused briefly at her bra, before tearing it in half with a snap of his fingers.

  Was she dreaming again?

  The knock persisted. “Mr. Titanas? This is Manolis. I’ve had a complaint by a staff member.”

  “Not now,” Hyperion yelled at the man.

  “Very well. Please call me when you can talk.”

  But the spell was broken.

  Olivia lowered her leg and used both hands to push against his—wide, rock-hard, chiseled—chest.

  He let go, but fire burned in his eyes and stoked the flames between her legs. “I can make you come again. I don’t have to touch you.”

  The dishes on the cart clattered, the sound tearing through her lustful haze. Hyperion made the cart move, like he made the earth shake and her body hurtle toward release last night—without contact.

  “How? How would you do that?” she asked. She pointed to the cart. “How are you doing this?” Her voice reached her ears more shrill than she was going for, and she dialed it down. A new question nudged at the edges of her consciousness.

  It took her a heartbeat to form the words. “What are you?”

  He arched an eyebrow, and Olivia expected him to say she was crazy. That he was just a guy with a little too much testosterone.

  Instead, he said, “Tomorrow. Give me today, no holds barred, and tomorrow I’ll tell you all you wish to know.” He didn’t allow her time to answer, before he started unloading the cart onto the dining table.

  She could have objected anyway—no holds barred was a huge concession—but she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  Breakfast was awkward, with Olivia both wishing she were touching him and needing some distance.

  Hyperion dug in the food with the same fervor he’d dived into their kiss. Was she jealous of bread and jam?

  Yes. Yes, she was.

  She focused on her eggs, had two cups of coffee, and watched amused, while he closed his eyes and savored a slice of bacon.

  Wherever he was before must have had crappy food.

  Prison. The word flashed in her head in neon yellow. He’d suggested he could kill Nikolas. Maybe in the past he hadn’t held back.

  A chill ran down her spine. She studied his hands as he tore a croissant in half. The large palms and long, thick fingers could no doubt pleasure a woman, if he used them in reality like he did in her fantasy. Could they take a life?

  She’d know tomorrow, if he kept his word. For which there was no guarantee. How could she trust a man she only met yesterday?

  No—why did she? Because she did, God help her. She believed every word that came out of his mouth. Was the crazy chemistry between them tricking her into it?

  Done with her breakfast, she pushed back her plate. “What’s the plan for today?”

  Hyperion reached across the table for her hand and ran his thumb across her knuckles. “I was thinking I’d take you to my favorite place on this island. See if it bares any resemblance to how I remember it.” His voice took on a wistful tone. “Imagine caves carved into lava rock, and nothing but the deep blue sea, as far as the eye can see.”

  It sounded so romantic. Which wasn’t what their relationship was about. She cleared her throat and withdrew her hand under the pretense of tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You said you needed clothes?”

  He shook his head and wiped his mouth. “Not anymore.”

  “Did clothes materialize in your closet during the night?” She laughed.

  His expression was flat. “You could say that.”

  Another non-answer. Neat.

  “Well, you said I’d get a clothing stipend. Do I?”

  “Of course. We can go get you something right now. Preferably something red with a plunging neckline.”

  She pursed her lips. “I was thinking office clothes.” Plus she wouldn’t be dressing for him. Though she loved the way his eyes lit up...

  Hyperion tilted his head. “You’ll be using your room as your office, so office clothes could be lacy and skimpy.”

  “Nice leap of logic there.” She batted his arm playfully, but electricity sparked along her skin at the thought of waiting for him in bed in sheer red lingerie.

  Olivia stood, shaking off the mental image. “Well, it’ll be more like proper slacks and a couple button-down shirts. You don’t need to come with.”r />
  He stretched, and his shirt rose to reveal the taut muscles of his stomach. Yum. “I’m coming,” he rumbled, causing another onslaught of sexy images. “You’ll need my card.”

  Okay. If he didn’t explain himself tomorrow, she was out of here, and Mister Sex-on-Legs could find someone else to pester with his stupid good looks and his amazing caress of a voice and his wicked orgasm-inducing powers.

  THOUGH HERAKLION WAS the largest city of Crete, Olivia preferred Chania on all counts. It wasn’t the modern-day luxuries just blocks away from the old harbor that now served as a top tourist spot. It was the sea air and the beauty of another era—one of knights and princesses and the stuff fairy tales were made of—that were all pervasive and intoxicating.

  She wasn’t up for a stroll on the cobble-stone pathways today, so she led Vangelis and Hyperion to the commercial part of the city, where Vangelis double parked and promised to wait in the car.

  Hyperion was rather tame during shopping. He kept his hands to himself and only nodded his approval, or shook his head when her choices weren’t to his taste.

  He also didn’t complain when Olivia tried on the tenth pair of black pumps.

  He was the perfect shopping companion, until the last saleswoman for the day was ringing up their purchases.

  “That is a lovely necklace you’re wearing,” Hyperion said.

  Olivia looked up, to see him holding the woman’s gaze.

  “Thank you.” The woman caressed the three gems glinting in the artificial light. “They’re rubies. It was a gift from my husband.”

  Hyperion smiled. “You should give it to my lady friend.”

  Shocked, Olivia turned to the woman, who unclasped her necklace and held it out to her with a sweet smile.

  “No.” Olivia pushed the woman’s cupped hand back. “No,” she said again.

  Hyperion frowned. “But it’s a gift.”

  Olivia shook her head frantically. “No,” she said a third time. “I’ll be in the car.” She stomped out of there and to where Vangelis waited in the BMW. She threw open the back door and dropped onto the seat, then slammed the door so hard, the car shook.

  “What happened?” Vangelis asked.

  “Hyperion is an asshole.”

  Vangelis laughed.

  “Don’t laugh. He asked a woman to give me the necklace she wore. And she did.”

  Vangelis shrugged. “That’s kind of his thing. The mind-control. Not that he should need it with most women.” He sighed wistfully. “Or some men.”

  Mind control? Mind control?

  Hyperion showed up, carrying her purchases. He motioned for Vangelis to pop the trunk, stowed the bags inside, and came to sit next to her. To her relief, the necklace was nowhere in sight.

  “Why are you upset?” he asked her.

  “Why did the woman give you her necklace?” she said, in lieu of a reply.

  Hyperion gave her a look so innocent, it had to be fake. “Because I asked nicely. People like indulging me.”

  “Did you... Did you force her to do it? With your mind?”

  It took him a while to answer, but he said, “Tomorrow.”

  “In that case, we have nothing to talk about till then.” She crossed her arms and sat back, not bothering with a safety belt as Vangelis revved the engine and took off for the hotel.

  Chapter Ten

  The longer Hyperion sat beside Olivia, the harder it was for him to endure her silence. Why was she so upset? He’d meant to pay the mortal female for the necklace, and it would look better on Olivia than on her.

  “Olivia...” He kept his tone calm. Reasoning. She had to see his point.

  She made a show of turning away, to look outside the window.

  He tried again, a little more forcefully, and let a hint of suggestion seep into his voice. “Olivia.”

  “What?” she snapped. “What do you want? You said you’d explain everything tomorrow, so I’m waiting for stupid tomorrow. What more do you want? Should I give my watch to Vangelis?”

  This was preposterous. “Why would I want you to give your watch to anyone, you insufferable woman?”

  She hit her closed fist on the seat between them. “I’m insufferable? You’re the one shopping with freaking diamonds one moment and a bunch of cards the next. You’re the one who’s only got a single pair of jeans in the evening but then needs no clothes because his closet is suddenly full in the morning. You’re the one getting women to hand over their jewelry.”

  Should he tell her everything now? When he asked her for twenty-four hours, he meant for her to get to like him before he broke the I’m-an-eternal-being-who-may-lose-control-and-create-a-new-continent-or-send-Earth-out-of-orbit-unless-you’re-my-soulmate-and-bond-with-me news. From what Vangelis, and therefore Hyperion, knew of the world, even people who worshiped a deity wouldn’t believe they’d ever meet one, and Hyperion had no clue if Olivia was religious or agnostic or whatever, because he couldn’t read her Zeus-blasted mind.

  Olivia apparently wasn’t done yet. “And you make me come from across the room? What the fuck was that about?”

  Hyperion stole a glance at Vangelis, before he returned his gaze to Olivia’s face that was a rapidly darkening shade of red. “I can explain everything, but you’re not going to believe me.” And if she did, she’d run away, unless he’d first gained her trust—and maybe her heart.

  “You start talking, or I’m leaving.” She lifted her chin, staring him down.

  Irritation plucked at his nerves. He was done taking orders from a human. He wrapped his hand around her wrist and held her gaze. “No man can make you feel the way I can. You know it, and you’re dying to find out what having me thrust between your legs will be like. You’ve been thinking of my naked body—my cock—since you first saw me on that pedestal, and it gets you wet.

  “But most of all, you burn to know who I really am and what else I can do. So Vangelis can drop you off now wherever you’d like, or you can come back to the suite with me and let me sate at least one of your hungers.” It was a risk, his guesses a shot in the dark, but she was making no move to go, and the fire in her eyes was no longer that of anger.

  The car stopped, and Vangelis cleared his throat. “We’re here. Should I park the car somewhere shady and come back for you in a couple hours?”

  Hyperion arched an eyebrow.

  Olivia shook free of his grip and opened her door. When he didn’t immediately go after her, she ducked her head and gave him a flat look. “Well? Are you coming?”

  Yeah, his words hit their mark.

  Olivia walked stiffly across the lobby. Her prim-and-proper act made Hyperion lust after her even more than when she melted into his kiss this morning.

  “Mr. Titanas, we need to talk.” Manolis practically ran out of his office to intercept Hyperion as they approached Reception. “It’s about Nikolas.”

  Hyperion barely slowed, to project to Manolis what he’d gleaned from that jerkoff this morning. “Fire him,” he said. “If he complains, send him to me.”

  Manolis nodded. “Will do.”

  Olivia got in the elevator and cleared her throat, and Hyperion hurried to catch up.

  Vangelis snickered. Let him. He was a good man, and if Manolis planned to do something about the thoughts Hyperion glimpsed from him, Vangelis would be getting his happy ending soon.

  Hyperion slid into the waiting elevator seconds before the doors slid shut.

  Olivia crossed her arms, staring ahead. “I’m still mad at you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She faced him. “But this thing—I want to feel again like I did last night.”

  Hyperion took a step toward her. “I told you, I won’t be your relief.” But he no longer believed it. He didn’t care about tomorrow or having a future. All that mattered was having her. Hearing her moan while her nails raised welts on his back. Getting drenched by her juices.

  She stepped back, but he grabbed her and turned her so her back was to him. Pressing her
body between his and the wall of the elevator, he whispered, “And I won’t just be using my mind, this time.” He rubbed his erection against her and wedged a hand to her front, to knead one perfect breast. “If you want me to stop, better say so now, before we enter that room.”

  She arched her back and wiggled her magnificent ass. “Are you worried you’ve oversold your abilities?”

  Hyperion buried his face in her hair and let out a chuckle. “Such big words, from such a small girl. I’m only worried you can’t take me.” The elevator pinged their arrival to the top floor, and the doors opened. “Every cell of your body calls to me. Every nerve ending thrums when you’re near, and my mind spins when you’re out of sight. I need to make you mine.” He let her turn to face him, but gave her no room to move away.

  Olivia licked her lips and looked up at him with those gorgeous dark eyes of hers. Her breath came out in short puffs.

  He studied her dilated irises. The thick lashes. The way the tip of her nose tilted up the slightest bit. “If you don’t want the same thing, you must tell me now.” He watched her throat work as she swallowed and shook her head. “I need to hear the words, Olivia.”

  “I want it. You.” Her voice was hoarse and low, but he heard her, and it was all he needed, to claim her lips.

  She melted against him, tearing at the collar of his shirt until she could dig her fingers into his shoulders. One of his buttons gave way, and she giggled against his mouth. “Oops,” she said, before sucking on his tongue.

  Chaos, but he’d give anything to feel that tongue against his shaft.

  His little mortal was on fire, and he’d made no effort to stoke her lust with compulsion. This was her true desire for him. She wanted him with an urgency that matched his own. His cock was as hard as when he was made of marble, but now it throbbed with the pressing need to be buried inside her. If he hadn’t felt her maidenhead the first time he projected himself pleasuring her orally, he would tear off her clothes and take her where she stood.

  But he’d hold off until her body was ready for him. Gaia knew he’d waited for this long enough, but he’d make it as good for Olivia as a first time could be.