by Staci Hart
There was no time to think. He spun around as soon as the door was closed and rushed to her, slipping his hand into her hair and pressing his lips to hers in a single motion. It was more than she could bear, the heat, the want that twisted them together until there was no space between them.
He broke away, and if he hadn’t been holding her, she would have fallen. Her heart pounded in her ears as he trailed his fingers down her neck and to her shoulders, slipping them out of her robes. They fell to the ground in a heap, and he stepped back to drag his eyes up and down the length of her body.
When his gaze finally came to rest on her eyes, he moved with decision and lifted her up, carrying her to her bed surrounded by sheer curtains. The candle light twinkled off his armor like distant suns as he stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he unclasped his red cloak and it fell to the ground. He unbuckled the straps for his chest plate and laid it down, opened his robes and dropped them, leaving him naked before her.
Her breath froze in her chest. His torso was trim and lean, the ridges of his abdomen pronounced by the shadows of the night. She followed the line of his hips, down to his shaft, and her body clenched. His heavy brow framed his blue eyes, and only they existed as he climbed up to meet her.
Ares lay next to her and held her face as he kissed her more gently than before, kissed her with a knowing that she felt through her entire body. He touched her everywhere as if he’d touched her a thousand times. Moved down her body, between her legs, hooked his arms under her thighs and gripped her hips, but this time when he kissed her, he took her, he burned through her, and she was helpless, a slave to his touch.
Time seemed to stop, starting again when he pulled away to kiss a trail up her body until his crown was a hair’s breadth from meeting her. She rolled her hips to force him in, but he pulled away just enough that she could still feel him. She felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin as he kissed down her body again, then back up, stopping again before their bodies met. She moaned, her body aching for him.
She whispered, “Please.”
“Say it,” he said, and grazed her again.
She raked her nails across his back, twisting her hips, burning for him. “Please,” she cried.
He leaned into her ear. “Say my name.”
And when she did, he gave her what she asked for.
Her head kicked back in the sheets, her neck in a long arch as he rocked into her. Relief winding through her as she hooked her legs around his waist, and he flexed, filling her to the hilt. She opened herself to him, and he took what he wanted as he gave her everything, and when they came, the world as they knew ceased to exist.
Aphrodite lay on her back, gasping as he lay on top of her, his cheek against her chest. Her lips stretched into a smile as her wits came stumbling back to her. If she could always expect such attention from Ares, he might get his wish after all.
Ares turned to her, pulling her from the memory. He smiled, the line of his lips in high relief in the firelight. “What are you thinking about?”
She laughed and propped her head on her hand. “That is the most cliché after-sex question in the history of the world.”
“True.” He rolled over onto his side and faced her. “But I’ve known you for long enough that I can almost read your mind. I have a feeling I know what you’re thinking. I just want to know if I’m right.”
“I was just thinking back to our first time.”
“Mmmm.” Ares leaned forward and kissed the curve of neck. “I’ve missed you.”
“It’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” he said into the hollow behind her ear, then pulled away and mirrored her, propping his head on his hand. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
He watched her for a moment before asking, “How much do you miss him?”
She paused, unsure as to whether or not she wanted to tell him the truth. “Can I be honest with you?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to be.”
Dita looked down and ran her fingers through the silky fur rug. “He’s been my companion almost as long as you have. I miss him, a lot. But he won’t speak to me, so it’s what it is.”
“What if he never comes back?”
“I’m starting to wonder if that isn’t a serious possibility.”
Ares moved her hair from her face. He quietly asked, “Why did you choose him?”
The question was one that she hated. A question with no real answer. “We’ve both had mortal lovers. Why did Adonis matter to you?”
His eyes held hers. “Because he mattered so much to you. And when he died, you left me.”
She stiffened and sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees drawn up to her chest. “I don’t want to talk about him. Please.”
He ran his hand down the soft skin of her back and touched his lips to her shoulder. “All right, Dita.”
She turned to him and laid her hand on his cheek. “Can’t you be happy just in the moment? I don’t want to think about tomorrow or yesterday. I just want to think about now. Can you give that to me?”
“I can.” He smiled and turned his head to press a kiss into her palm. “I love you, Dita,” he whispered reverently.
“I know.”
Day 5
DILLON LEANED ON THE LOW table on his rooftop patio, watching the city wake around him. The sky was pink and blue, the chill in the winter air sharp against his skin. He flipped the hood of his sweatshirt and picked up his steaming cup of coffee.
He glanced over his shoulder when he heard the door slide open. Owen walked up with a newspaper and a cup of coffee of his own. He sat next to Dillon on a giant floor pillow and whistled as he looked across the river at Manhattan as the sun rose against their backs.
“Wow, that’s a good one,” Owen sat back with his eyes on the city.
“What are you doing up so early?”
“I smelled the coffee, and you know, they say that’s the best part of waking up.” He reached for his coffee and took a sip. “I have an exam, so I figured I could get a little extra studying in.”
“You always were the responsible one,” Dillon said, but Owen raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
They shared a sad smile.
Dillon picked up his mug. “What class is the exam for?”
“Anatomy. We’re working on cadavers today.”
Dillon wrinkled his nose. “I can’t imagine that would be fun.”
Owen shrugged. “It’s more enjoyable than you’d think.” Dillon winced, and Owen corrected himself. “Okay, maybe enjoyable isn’t the right word. The insides aren’t the disturbing part. That’s actually fascinating, as alien as it is. What’s unnerving is what’s familiar. Wondering who they were and what they did when you notice the calluses on their hands. Seeing the white strip where their wedding band used to rest, wondering how many years it had been there before they died.” Owen was far away as he stared out at the city.
Dillon watched his brother and lost himself in his own thoughts. Owen would make a great doctor, Dillon was sure of that. Owen had always doctored him up after Jimmy got a hold of him, even at five and six. Dillon took care of Owen, and Owen took care of Dillon. It had always been that way.
The boys sat huddled on the scratchy old couch one night, left alone once again. It had been a few months since their mother had died, and Jimmy was losing control.
He been to leaving the boys on their own almost every night to go to the pub, though the boys were all the better for it. Their best times were when he was gone, especially because Jimmy had his eye on Owen. He would watch the boy with hate in his eyes, a look that Dillon knew well. It was only a matter of time until he snapped.
The front door slammed, and the boys jumped when their father staggered in, his clothes a mess. Owen leaned closer into Dillon, who trained his eyes on the television, avoiding his father’s glare.
“Hey,
shitehead.”
Dillon turned to his father, his eyes narrow. But Jimmy wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at Owen, who sat small and scared on the couch.
Jimmy sniffed and ran the back of his hand across his nose. “Hey, boyo, I’m talkin’ to you. Your ma’s not here to stop me now, the whore.”
Owen’s face went chalk white. “Da—”
“I’m not your Da, dickbrain. Get up.”
Owen’s eyes darted to Dillon, his chin quivering as he pulled the blanket off himself. Dillon put his hand on Owen’s and stood to face his father.
“Da—”
Jimmy’s eyes narrowed. “Shut the fuck up, Dillon, or I’ll belt you. Move out of the way.” He turned to Owen. “Owen, come HERE. NOW.” His voice boomed, and he pointed at the ground in front of him with his mouth twisted into a sneer.
The hair on the back of Dillon’s neck stood on end, but he clenched his jaw and steeled himself. “No. Leave Owen be.”
Jimmy laughed, the sound mocking and cruel. “Ooh, smartarse. Don’t try to save him. He ain’t worth the trouble. He’s just the bastard son of your dead ma.” He spat the words, his ominous smile turning Dillon’s stomach. “He’s nothin’.”
Dillon turned to his brother and flicked his eyes toward the back door. Owen shook his head small, and Dillon did it again, flicking his eyes to the door with his mouth pinched in a line.
Jimmy’s voice was low, and closer than it should have been. “You can’t hide from me, wee Owen.”
Dillon turned back to Jimmy, who was just a few paces away. “Leave him be, Da.”
Jimmy’s face flashed with anger, his neck turning red. “You’ll not tell me what to do, boy. I’m your da, that’s certain, and givin’ you licks is my God-earned right. A right you know I’ll take.”
Dillon squared his shoulders and glared at his father. “I won’t let you hurt him.”
He bent down to Dillon’s face, his breath stinking. “And you’ll stop me?”
Dillon lifted his chin up to meet his father’s eyes.
“I’ll die trying.”
Jimmy grabbed a handful of Dillon’s T-shirt and whispered, “Your ma said the same, and look how she ended up.” He sneered. “Careful what you wish for.”
Dillon’s rage spilled over the top, and he cranked his fist back, pushing all his weight behind his small fist. It connected with his father’s eye, and the smack of skin on skin rang in the room. Jimmy let Dillon go and stepped back in surprise.
His hand flew to his eye, and his dark smile set off alarms that rang in Dillon’s ears. “Oh-ho, Dillon. That was a mistake you’re not like to make again.” Jimmy cocked his fist, and everything went black.
Dillon blinked, snapping Owen’s face back into focus.
Owen glanced at Dillon and set down his mug. “So, Kat’s coming to your fight? I have to say, I didn’t see that coming. I didn’t think you could convince her, not after the way you’ve been acting.”
“Me neither. I was pretty sure she’d find a way to bail. Although I guess there’s still time.”
“I don’t think she’ll back out.” He ran a hand through his dark waves. “You’re lucky I love you, big brother. You know how I feel about watching you fight. I’ve seen enough of you beaten to last me a lifetime.”
“I know. I never would have asked.”
“Well, lucky for you, you didn’t have to. I’ll take full credit for the brilliant idea,” he said, smirking.
“Thank you, Owen.” Dillon said, grateful.
“Yeah, yeah.” Owen smiled into his coffee before taking a sip. They turned to watch the sun as it hit the tops of the buildings across the river, falling down their long walls to illuminate the city.
The morning sun slowly tracked its way onto Kat’s face. She shuffled in bed but couldn’t find a spot that the light hadn’t taken over. She cracked an eye and reached for her phone. It was seven-thirty. She sighed and buried herself in her pillows, but sleep never came back as she rolled over all of the things she had to do that day. When she smelled coffee, she knew it was a lost cause.
Kat climbed out of bed and wandered down the stairs to the kitchen, yawning as she plopped down on a bar stool.
Kiki handed her a cup of coffee, and Kat took it gratefully. “Mmmmm. Thanks.”
Kiki hopped up on the counter. “You awake yet?”
Kat groaned.
“Eggs?” Kiki asked.
Kat smiled.
“Bacon?”
“Duh.”
Kiki slid off the counter and pulled bacon and eggs out of the fridge, then a cast iron skillet from the cabinet. She unpeeled the bacon and laid it out in the pan. Before long it was popping and sizzling, and the room smelled delicious.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” Kiki pushed the bacon around with a wooden spatula.
“Going to lunch with Dad. Are you coming?” Kat twisted her hair up into a knot and yawned again.
“I can’t. I’m meeting Owen for lunch. Though I can’t imagine how he’d be hungry. They’re cutting open cadavers today.”
“Gross, Kiki. It’s a little early for that.”
“Sorry.” She lifted the pan up so Kat could see the bacon. “Mmmmm!”
Kat wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, you’re going to ruin it for me.”
Kiki giggled and set the pan back on the burner. “So, you smoked Dillon’s ass last night.”
“Did you doubt me?” Kat leaned on the bar with her eyebrow raised.
“Nope. He didn’t act like a baby or a jerk. Bonus, huh?”
“That was a pleasant surprise.”
Kiki looked over her shoulder at Kat, smiling as she taunted. “That wasn’t the only pleasant surprise. He almost kissed you, and you almost let him. I’ve never wanted to stop myself from sneezing so bad in my whole life.”
Kat’s brain wasn’t working quickly enough to come up with anything witty to shoot back. “I’m not getting involved with Dillon, okay? He’s not a complete asshole, which is great since you and Owen have already named your grandchildren.”
“Ha, ha, Kat. You like Dillon. Don’t bullshit.”
“I’m not interested. I’ve got enough shit to worry about.” Kat looked down into her coffee.
Kiki’s brow dropped, and she turned back to the bacon. “Eric isn’t coming.”
“It’s a little early for that, too.” She eyeballed Kiki’s ponytail.
The sisters were silent while Kiki pulled the bacon out of the pan and laid it on a plate lined with a paper towel.
Kiki changed the subject, and Kat was grateful. She needed at least one cup of coffee before a conversation about Eric. “Where are you going for lunch?”
“Katsu.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. I might even order Chicken Katsu.” Kiki laughed, and Kat added, “Okay, maybe not.”
“Have you talked to Mom?” Kiki asked.
“Not in a couple of days.” Kat brought a knee up. “She’s been busy with some new choreographers in her studio.”
“How’s she doing otherwise?”
Kat frowned. “Lonely, by the sound of it. We just left her there. Dad’s supposed to go back in a few weeks to see her.”
Kiki cracked the eggs, and they hit the bacon grease with a hiss. “What are we going to do if we decide to stay? I don’t know if I want to go back, Kat.”
She rolled her shoulder in a shrug. “We don’t both have to go back.”
Kiki spun around. “You would go back without me?”
Kat turned her mug around. “Mom’s all alone, Kiki. I don’t know. I don’t feel right about leaving her. It’s like we all abandoned her.”
“Maybe Dad will bring her out here.”
Kat snorted. “I’m sure Yuki would be really happy about that.”
“I hope I never have to meet that bitch.”
“I’m sure she feels the same way about us. Put yourself in her shoes, Kiki. She was forced to marry a man who doesn’t love her, a man who w
ould much prefer his Vegas showgirl mistress and his illegitimate kids to his own wife.”
Kiki pouted. “Whatever. She sucks. If it wasn’t for her … ”
“It’s not her fault. And anyway, Mom wouldn’t leave her studio.”
Kiki slid two eggs onto a plate next to a handful of bacon and handed it across the bar to Kat. “I’ll call her later and check on her,” Kiki decided.
Kat straightened up. “Oh, shit, Kiki. I forgot to tell you to call her. I told her a little about Owen.”
“Dammit, Kat.” Kiki’s jaw set.
“What?” Kat said around a mouthful of bacon. “I only told her good things. That’s all there is to tell. Untwist your knickers.”
“She’s going to grill me.”
“Probably. But I told her not to worry. She listens to me.”
“Everybody listens to you.” Kiki pointed to Kat’s plate with narrowed eyes. “Eat your breakfast, tattle-tale.”
Kiki popped a piece of bacon into her mouth and turned to the sink to wash the pans while Kat stuffed her face, thinking about Dillon.
She didn’t know what had come over her after they raced, but by the time she made it home, her head cleared enough for her to be shocked at herself. As big of a dick as he’d been to her, she couldn’t believe that she let him charm her that easily. But he definitely had charmed her, and a large part of her wanted more. She wondered if Dillon and Owen would come to the bar tonight, hoped they would, and when the butterflies in her stomach took flight, it terrified her.
She couldn’t be with Dillon. Not with so much at stake. She wished that she could have the luxury of Kiki’s naiveté, but she wasn’t sure that Eric would stay put, and she had to be on her game if he didn’t.
Kat had a feeling Dillon would be a big distraction. It was already stressful enough having Kiki dating Owen and not being with her all the time. But if Kat was with Dillon? That would require a level of coordination to manage that she wasn’t sure if she possessed.