by Lazu, Sotia
I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. “Yeah. Okay.” Not what I want to say. I want to ask what happened. If he saw it too. If he caused it. But if he has no idea what I’m talking about, he’ll think I’m crazy.
Am I?
He tucks me into his side and presses a kiss to the crown of my head. Awesome. Now he’s treating me like a kid. Not the most disturbing thing to happen the past ten minutes, but the one that slices the deepest.
I push away. “What’s happening here? With us? One minute you seem into me, and the next, it’s like we’re buddies. What’s next? Fist bumps?”
“I’m into you.” He drops to the sofa and pulls me so I straddle him. Still hard between my legs, he’s making it difficult to focus. “I’m too into you, if that makes any sense.” He licks the seam of my mouth. Pulls my bottom lip between his teeth. Kneads my ass with both hands. “There are things I haven’t told you about.” An exaggerated sigh. “About my family. The expectations.”
That’s the problem? His family won’t approve of me? We’re not talking marriage. I just want to be with him, and he seems to want the same. “I’m not... I don’t want your money,” I mutter, both hurt and offended.
His chuckle does delicious things to my insides, but I ignore the persistent throbbing of need. “What?” I ask with a scowl.
“I don’t remember my parents.”
That’s a non sequitur. I don’t see what it has to do with what we’re talking about, but he seems to need to say this, so I listen.
“I remember them tucking me in, reading me stories, but I can’t recall their voices.” He laces our fingers together and brings our joined hands to rest between us. “I have pictures of them, but I don’t recall their expressions when they smiled at me or scolded me or whatever.” He purses his lips. “I do remember the car crash, though. I still jump sometimes when I hear tires screeching.” His gaze is heavy on me, and I hold it.
My gut clenches. I know where this is going. The crash must be what took away his birthparents.
“Mom was yelling at Dad about her, as he loaded suitcases in the trunk of our car. I didn’t realize what she meant back then, but now I’m thinking he had an affair.” He rolls his eyes. “Mom said something about a threat, and he called her silly, but they both kept looking over their shoulders until we were all in the car. He reached for her hand, and she took it, and I felt so relieved, I could cry. Maybe I did cry? And then I slept.”
He lowers his lids briefly, before focusing on my face again, his eyes as silver as ever. “I was jolted awake. The car spun. Mom cried out, and then it was like a huge hand threw us sideways into a wall. Mom went silent. The wall was a tree, and—” He swallows. Licks his lips.
“You don’t have to say it.” I squeeze his hand.
“I kept screaming for them, kept fumbling with my seatbelt, but I was only four, and I shouldn’t even remember all this. It was getting cold, and at first I thought the sparks I made out through the windshield were a good thing. We’d all get warmer, and Mom and Dad would wake up and take me home.
“The door to my right was ripped off its hinges, and a white-haired man tore my safety belt clean off. He pulled me from the car and ran, with me wailing and kicking in his arms. He held me to his chest, so I didn’t see the explosion that took away what remained of my parents.”
“I’m so sorry.” I will him to read my sympathy in my eyes. “No child should ever have to experience such tragic loss.”
He shakes his head, as if he’s shaking off my concern. “I don’t miss them anymore. Feels wrong, and I’ve never admitted it before, but I don’t. And it’s not like I was left to fend for myself.”
I know with absolute certainty he’s lying about not missing them, but it’s important to him that I believe him, so I pretend to, and he goes on.
“That man raised me as his own grandson, and gave me brothers and a purpose. Gave all of us a future. Saved us in more ways than one. I guess I’ve always felt like I owe it to him to make the most of what he offered me.”
“And that doesn’t include being with me?” I tilt my head to study his face that seems so very at-home against the baroque background. “He wouldn’t approve of you dating the help?”
His smile lights up his eyes. “Oh, he’ll be thrilled. I’m the one who has trouble accepting it.” I don’t have time to get pissed off, before he adds, “Until now, I’ve always wanted less than I was supposed to. Now, I want it all.” He gives me a look I cannot decipher. “And I don’t know if I can handle it.”
This stinks of relationship-phobia, but can I blame him, when he lost the first people he loved so tragically? I should take a step back. Let him set the pace.
Chapter Fourteen - Dionysos
I shouldn’t have told her about my folks—too dark a topic for a first date—but with what happened when she had me in her mouth, taking things slowly isn’t an option. As her wet heat engulfed me, I was transported to my first time with Ariadne. I felt the grass beneath my bare feet. Heard the song of the birds. Smelled an air so different from today’s fossil-fuel scented one, it felt as foreign as it was familiar.
I obviously projected all that to Moira through our rapidly establishing link. I saw it in the widening of her hazel eyes when she recoiled. Things like this will keep coming up the more time we spend together, and unless I explain what’s happening, I’ll drive her away.
The thought chills me to the bone. I can’t lose her. Ever.
But the alternative is bonding, and that can’t happen unless I know how to hide my memories of Ariadne from her. Having my mate hate me until the end of the world wouldn’t be optimal, as Sei would put it.
Fuck, he and the others will mock me relentlessly if I go ahead with the bonding after renouncing it so adamantly for the past decade and a half.
So my options are either letting her go and dying inside, or lying to her by omission for eternity and suffering my brothers’ ridicule. Lovely.
Maybe I’m lucky, and my sad dead-parents story will make my choice for me.
I downplayed how their absence still hurts. The ache has dulled, but it’s constantly there, a hole behind my ribs. It’s not that I miss them, because I don’t really remember them. I miss what we could have been—a different family than what I was brought up in. I try not to hate my father for getting involved with another woman. Try not to blame my mother for not sending him off alone when she found out. It’s hard to accept that deep down, I resent them for dying.
When Moira gets up, my heart lurches in my chest. She’s leaving.
But she’s not. She plops down beside me and hooks one of my arms around her shoulders, so she can fold her body into mine. “My parents are so supportive, it’s annoying.” The words are muffled, her lips tickling my chest. “If I tell them I’m going to the bathroom, they’ll start cheering for me to have the best pee ever.” She slaps one hand over her mouth. In my mind, I see her cringe at mentioning peeing on a date. With a superhot guy. Who’s obviously a little damaged.
Fair assessment. I’m both superhot and a little damaged.
“They wanted me to find a job near them, in Halkida, and live out the rest of my years in the neighborhood I grew up in, but...” It wasn’t enough for her, and she’s afraid I’ll think less of her if she admits that. That I’ll believe she’s after my money. If only she knew what I stand to gain from our relationship.
“The big city called, huh?” I trail my fingers down her arm, steering clear of her breast. This isn’t about sex; it’s about a deeper connection that scares the fuck out of me.
She nods. “There was more for me out here. I had dreams that didn’t fit in Halkida.” With a delicate snort, she adds, “Like becoming a bartender and hooking up with my boss.” Who won’t fuck me.
Takes me a second to realize she didn’t speak that last part. My cock, never fully relaxed in her presence, stands at attention. Why am I not balls-deep inside her?
Worth any risk, Joy said. She didn’t know the ri
sk is that Moira will hate me, assuming she can access all my memories if the bond is complete.
When it’s complete.
Fuck.
I jump up, and she falls face-first on the cushion. Her scowl is a perfect depiction of the what the fuck blaring in her thoughts.
“I’m hungry,” I say. “Room service?”
Moira shakes her head but says, “Sure. But I’m paying for this.” She doesn’t speak again until the food is delivered, other than to tell me she wants a club sandwich and a cola, please and thank you.
I’ve fucked this up. Part of me insists it’s for the best, but deep down, where all my worst ideas are birthed, I know it’s not. What’s for the best is for her to be riding my cock from now until eternity.
And I want to smack my forehead. C will know if there’s a way to bond with Moira without allowing her a glimpse into the past I shared with Ariadne. He’s known everything, as far as I can tell. Hermes and Sei are no longer sure about his best intentions, and their doubts may not be unfounded, but whatever his reasons, he wants me to ascend. He’ll tell me the truth.
According to the same two pains in my ass, I can mentally conjure our surrogate grandfather, but I rely on good old technology. While Moira is pushing perfectly crisp, golden fries around her plate, I send C a quick text.
When can we meet? Urgent.
The text is delivered, but no reply has arrived by the time the worst first date in the history of first dates between people who’ve already seen each other’s genitals is over.
I look at my watch, though I’ve seen the time on my phone. “We should head out in half an hour or so.”
“Right. Work.” She pushes a fry in her mouth and chews slowly. “Need to take a quick shower.”
Moira naked. Water pelting her flawless skin. Her hair clinging to her bare breasts. Me, behind her, driving into her, my grip slippery on her soap-lathered hips.
I clear my throat and adjust my cock, hoping the table hides it from view. “Should I wait downstairs, for you to get ready?”
“Yeah. Sure.” The disappointment in her expression is fleeting but unmistakable. Chaos, I want to wipe it away for good and leave her walking around with a silly grin for a week.
She’s marginally more talkative in the car, asking where my family home is, and how old my brothers and I were when we were adopted.
The light ahead turns red, and I stop more abruptly than I should have.
Moira leans against the passenger door and rests her hand on my shoulder. “I can’t get over the names he gave you. Must have made for a weird childhood.”
What would she think if she knew he tracked us down, and we were already named this way? I certainly have thoughts about it. But what are they? Our parents... What?
As always when my mind drifts to this subject, something nags at the edge of my consciousness, but when I reach for it, my thoughts scramble and scatter, like someone’s playing eight-ball with them and just broke the rack.
Green light. I hook a right, and we’re on Konstantinos Karamanlis Avenue, the sea spreading out on our left. Its calmness belies the low temperature of the water, but I have a brother who could make it warm as a bubble bath if I asked him to. “It was okay. Would have been harder if I didn’t have the guys.”
She squeezes me briefly, before letting go. “I can only imagine. My brother is a whole decade younger than me, and we were never that close. Mostly because he goes out of his way to annoy me. On the plus side, growing up, I never had to share my toys.”
I chuckle. “Well, neither did I. The Olympios family is filthy rich.”
“Filthy?”
I can’t look her way, but I hear the amusement in her tone. “Disgustingly,” I say.
Her laugh is the sweetest melody. I could listen to her laugh forever. Only we’re almost there. “Do you mind if I drop you off here, and you linger a couple minutes?” We’re a block away from the bar. “I don’t want people to talk. I don’t mess with my employees, and if they see you getting out of my car—”
“They’ll know you messed with me.” She doesn’t sound upset, and she’s smiling when I meet her gaze.
I pull over next to a parked car and bring her hand to my lips, to lay a tiny kiss on each fingertip. “Staying away while you work so close to me will be torture.”
Color spreads up her neck and to her cheeks. “Maybe this will tide you over.” She leans in and presses her lips to mine for a slow, teasing kiss. Her wicked tongue traces the seam of my lips and flicks across mine when I open my mouth. She tangles both hands in my hair, and I want to pull her on top of me and—
A car horn snaps me out of it. “I’ll need more of this later,” I whisper against her lips.
Her laugh lingers in the car alongside her perfume, as she throws open the door and climbs out. I take the time to appreciate her long legs and gorgeous ass, while I give the driver behind me an appeasing gesture that involves an outstretched middle finger. To the soundtrack of his horn, I roll slowly to the parking spot reserved for me outside the bar.
As I get out of the car, I check my phone. Still no reply from C.
Here goes nothing—I clench my jaw, and mentally call his name.
Nothing.
Chapter Fifteen - Moira
As expected on a Wednesday, Denny’s doesn’t exactly get hopping, but the handful of couples and three groups that show up soon after opening are loud and hungry, and the first couple hours fly by.
Phaedra is off today, and though Nancy is friendly, I don’t appreciate the longing glances she steals at Dionysos. She’s obviously interested. Is it reciprocated?
Facing the room as I am, I can’t watch the kitchen at all times, damn it. When he comes out, he hovers near me, but is that a guarantee nothing’s happening with Nancy? That nothing has happened? I only have his word that he doesn’t mess with his employees—God, I hate this phrasing—but Phaedra flirted with him too. I joked about it before, but maybe this is his modus operandi? He keeps a harem of girls, promising each of them she’s the only one?
“Hey. You asleep?” Nancy snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Number 13 is all up my ass about their drinks taking too long. Go go go.” Her expression is friendly, not one of reprimand. Sucks. It’d be easier to hate her as a potential rival if she was a bitch.
But why should I hate her if Dionysos is playing with us both? With all three of us?
“Sorry. I spaced out.” I pour four pints of lager, and since I’m closer to the pass, I also get her the two burgers with fries Dionysos just plated.
She winks, blue eyes sparkling. “Thanks, girly. And don’t worry. It happens to the best of us.” Lowering her voice, she adds, “He’s a dreamboat, isn’t he? Remember he’s off limits, though.”
She twirls away, blonde braid swishing from side to side, before I can pretend not to know whom she’s talking about.
Off limits. Because I work for him, or because he’s already sleeping with her?
I sense Dionysos approach, and turn as he comes up behind me.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yup. Everything’s fine, boss.” Except I want to cup his ass. And kiss him. And taste him again, this time till he comes. Preferably sans the hallucinatory interlude.
“Good.” His knuckles brush my hip, and then he’s walking back to the kitchen his attention on the screen of his phone.
He’s been looking at that thing a lot today.
And there’s the green monster of jealousy, taking big great chomps off me again. Another woman? A relationship he hasn’t ended yet? Is that why he won’t have sex with me? Is he telling himself what we have done isn’t considered cheating?
No, he’s just in no rush for us to have sex. It’s gallant in this day and age, when everything happens fast and often without forethought. Dionysos wants to make sure—
Oh my God, is he married? The apartment upstairs could just be for his conquests. But then why take me to a hotel?
Ugh, I must s
top thinking.
“You must be Moira.” The velvety male voice makes me look up from the glass I’m scrubbing furiously. The man watching me with a half-smirk on his face could be Dionysos’ twin, except his long curls are blond and his eyes a beautiful baby blue. “I’m Hermes.” He holds out his hand. “Your boss’s best looking brother.”
I can’t not smile, even as my mind tries to make sense of the similarities. How is this possible, when they’re not related by blood? I wipe my palm on the towel lying by the sink in front of me, and shake his proffered hand. “Nice to meet you. Yup, I’m Moira.” How does he know? Has Dionysos told him about me, or did Ares mention the drowned rat he hired on their bro’s behalf? Should I ask?
“My boy can’t shut up about you,” he says as if he read my mind.
Cheeks burning, I duck my head and take my time redoing my bun. What do I say to that?
I don’t need to come up with something after all, because Dionysos storms out of the kitchen, rounds the bar, and drags his brother by the arm to a corner table. I can’t tell what they’re saying, but Dionysos doesn’t seem happy about it. Hermes, on the other hand looks like the cat that swallowed the canary.
Nancy hops on the stool across the bar from me and heaves a sigh that threatens to pop the buttons of her shirt. “These boys are temptation on legs.” She seems to be talking to herself as much as to me, nostrils flaring and pupils wide. “Pity they won’t sleep with the staff, because they’ve sure as hell slept with everyone else. At least till Hermes took himself off the market.”
She slams her hand on the bench. “What are you doing tomorrow morning? Phaedra and I are going for brunch to Sunny Side Up—that place that opened in Glyfada a couple months ago? They have awesome Eggs Benedict. Wanna come?”
The change of subject doesn’t make my head spin as much as the tidbit of information she let slip before. How many women are everyone else? And was it only women? Should I even care about what Dionysos did before he met me?