by Staci Hart
“Your dad taught you how to fight?” Her stomach flipped when she remembered too late what Kiki had admitted in the car.
Dillon laughed, the sound dry. “If you count him whaling on me as ‘teaching’ me, then yeah. I had a formal education.”
Kat was glad she already had known so that she could shake it off. “Mine taught me how to race, and gave me a gun and my car when I turned sixteen. Violent beginnings all around, huh?”
Dillon seemed relieved that she hadn’t pressed the topic. “You have a gun?” He gave her a slightly incredulous look.
“Please, tell me you’re not surprised. Is it shocking that I would have a gun and know how to use it?”
He chuckled. “No, actually. Not at all.”
“When you’re in my line of … work, and you’re a chick that wins, men think they can take advantage.” She shrugged. “They’re always surprised when I win. Even the ones I beat consistently. You’d think I would have carved a place for myself, but they’ve always been relentless. I almost wonder if I’m cursed, or something.” She took another sip of her drink.
“Do I even want to know what your dad does to keep you so well stocked in race cars and firearms?”
“No, you probably don’t.”
He smiled, and she was thankful when he changed the subject. “I wanted to tell you again that I really am sorry about … well, about how I acted at first. I’ve always looked out for Owen, and if I can help him avoid heartache, I’ll do whatever I have to. But I was wrong about Kiki, and I was wrong about you.”
She looked down into her drink, then up at him. “I get that. Kiki just got out of a bad relationship. A really bad one. I wasn’t really ready to see her with anyone else. I just didn’t realize that it wasn’t about me.”
“Seems we have more in common than either of us wanted to admit.” He moved toward her and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers trailed down her neck, and she shivered.
“Seems that way,” she whispered as he reeled her in again, the space between them shrinking, and she held her breath.
A car rumbled beneath them, and Dillon’s eyes went wide. “Fuck, that’s my car.”
They shot up and hurried down the stairs, passing the kitchen counter where Kat’s keys lay to confirm that Owen and Kiki were, in fact, gone. They stood in the empty garage, looking out into the alley. At least they hadn’t taken her car.
“I think we’ve been ditched,” she said.
“It would appear that way.”
She turned to face him, then looked sideways toward the door. “You know, I really should go,” she said. She didn’t really mean it.
Dillon took a step to her and cupped her neck, his thumb on her cheek. “Stay,” he breathed as he leaned down and brushed his lips to hers, and everywhere their skin touched was on fire. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the kiss deep, deeper with every moment. His free arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into him, her toes barely touching the ground. He lifted her up, and her hair hung in his face as he blindly carried her inside, up the stairs, and to his dark room. He couldn’t break away from her, couldn’t stop kissing her lips, lips that he knew, somehow. Lips meant for his.
He laid her down in his bed, but she couldn’t let him go, never unlocking her arms from his neck, pulling him down with her. He broke away only long enough to look into her eyes and touch her cheek, his face full of worship and possession. She gave it back to him, wound her fingers in his hair and pulled him to her again.
She couldn’t think. She tried to catch her breath, chest heaving as he kissed down the neckline of her low-cut tank and cupped her breast, running his thumb over her nipple. She arched her back, encouraging him, and he slid the tank straps down her shoulders, exposing her black, lacy bra. She looked down at him, his eyes closed as he kissed her body tenderly, and she twisted her fingers in his hair once more. He looked up at her and saw her, truly saw her.
In that moment, she was where she needed to be.
He moved up her body to take her mouth again and propped himself up on his hands, pushing his body into hers. Her legs wrapped around his thighs, locked her ankles on his calves, skimmed her hands down his chest, under the hem of his shirt. He grabbed the back and yanked it over his head.
In the moonlight, the shadows cast across his broad chest made him look like a god as she watched him toss his shirt away. She reached for him, and he leaned back into her as she trailed her hands down his broad chest, down the ridges of his stomach, down to the soft skin above his jeans. His breath caught when she ran a finger just under the band, and she smiled as he kissed her, but before she could do more, he broke away and slipped off the end of the bed, extending his hand.
She took it, confused, and he pulled her to stand at the foot of the bed. He stood before her, not touching her, but every molecule in her body called for him. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, then pushed another strand over her shoulder. He skimmed his fingers down her neck, down the line of her bra. She couldn’t breathe. The tank was pushed down around her ribs, and he hooked his fingers in it, then knelt to move it down her hips, down her legs. He looked up her body, and his hands moved to her button. He popped it open, and when he slowly unzipped her pants, it was all she could do not to kneel down and touch him.
He tugged gently, and her jeans dropped off her hips, down her long legs, and to the floor. He ran his hands up the length of her thighs, and then raised himself up to lay slow, hot kisses on her stomach. His fingers curled around the strap of her panties and slid them away. He wound his arms around her waist, squeezing her against his chest, and she could feel how much he wanted her. She couldn’t deny how much she wanted him, too.
He guided her to lie down but stayed on his knees as he ran his hands down her stomach, down the inside of her thighs to spread her legs and move his torso between them. He laid slow kisses up her thigh, to her hip, and she held her breath with anticipation as his fingers trailed across her stomach, between her legs, and when he slipped one inside of her, and a small moan passed her lips. He kissed across her belly as he parted her, and when he took her into his mouth, she couldn’t think, just wound the bed sheets above her head in her fists and held on.
She was close, and too soon … so soon that she was grateful when he let her go. Her body ached for him as he stood and stepped out of his pants. Their eyes never left each others as his massive frame walked naked to his nightstand to pull out a condom, then slid into the bed next to her.
She curled into him, kissing him desperately, the urgency so real, knowing what was coming. He ripped open the small package, and she took the condom from him. He rolled on top of her, his wide lips parted, and she held it at her entrance and nodded. He slipped into the condom and into her in one motion, and they both held their breath. He buried himself in her, and her legs wound around his waist, flexing to pull him in again, and again, until they came together, calling for each other. Worshipping each other.
———— Olympus ————
“Oh my hotness.” Perry said, fanning herself. Then she sat up straight. “Wait, Dita—did you just win?”
“Nope, but that would almost be a record if I did. Neither of them is sure. It’s not love, not just yet.”
Perry flumped back in the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, nuts. Oh gods, could you imagine the look on Ares’ face if you had won just now?”
“Yes, actually. I’m looking forward to seeing that look on his face. That’s my favorite part of competing with him. Cherry on the sundae.”
“I’m pretty sure I know what the ice cream is.”
Dita laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you do, too.”
“Gods, when you guys first got together, you were inseparable. Literally. Like those National Geographic specials on animals that mate for an awkwardly long period of time.”
Dita giggled. “I couldn’t help myself. He knows his way around.”
“You’ve mentione
d this.” Perry paused. “Not to be a bummer, but I keep meaning to ask. Have you been back to Elysium?”
Dita’s smile faded. “No.”
“Are you going back?”
“I suppose at some point. But why waste my time if he’s not even going to show up? It’s giving me an ulcer.”
“You can’t get an ulcer.”
Dita rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.” They sat in silence for a moment. “At least you’re not totally alone, right?”
Dita nodded and sank a little deeper into the couch. “It’s been a long time since Ares and I have been together. Ages.”
“Seems like you’re making up for all that lost time.”
“Ha ha.”
“It’s a little much, don’t you think? I mean, gods. Horndoggies.”
“Perry, remember who you’re talking to.”
Perry waggled her eyebrows, then sat quietly for a moment before asking, “Is it different this time?”
“Only in that it may be better. He’s relaxed and open. I’ve never seen him like this before.” Dita picked at her thumbnail. “I wonder if Adonis and I not speaking has changed Ares.”
“I’m sure.”
“I am, too.” Dita stroked Bisoux’s head. “Something’s not right with all of this. He’s being too good. And I’m starting to really realize that deep down I’ve known he killed Adonis. I’ve known for thousands of years.”
“Why are you figuring this out now?”
“I’ve been hating on Apollo for as long as Adonis has been dead. I had something tangible. He admitted to killing Adonis, so I laid all my anger on him.” Her heart was a stone in her chest. “Apollo didn’t do it. He wouldn’t have gone that far.”
“You’re sure it’s Ares?”
Dita exhaled, but it didn’t relieve the pressure. “No.”
Perry eyed her. “If Ares killed Adonis, do you really want to know?”
“Of course I do.” But she knew as soon as she said it that she didn’t. She didn’t want to know at all. “No,” she said, resigned. “I don’t. If he did, if I know he really did, I can’t even begin to imagine what that might mean.”
Perry considered that for a minute. “Think about that. If you want to know, let’s figure it out.”
Dita looked down at Bisoux, but her eyes saw nothing. With Adonis out of her life for the first time in thousands of years, she had found a new perspective. Adonis was petulant, even more than she had really known, and the longer he avoided her, the more her anger pushed her toward the edge.
Everything had changed. Adonis was gone. Apollo was her friend. And Ares …
If Ares really did kill Adonis, so many hundreds of thousands of years had been nothing but lies. Though he would have been wise to keep it from her. She swore she would never forgive him if he hurt Adonis. And she didn’t break her promises.
Day 7
KAT DREAMED THAT SHE WAS a bird. The wind rushed around her as she flew over green hills, over sapphire oceans, up and up with her face turned to the sun. She came to rest in a cloud, and as it wrapped itself around her, she felt peace she hadn’t known, ever.
She stirred, but she couldn’t fully shift. Something heavy and warm curled around her, and she cracked her eyes, confused. And then she remembered, and her eyes flew open.
Dillon’s big arm hung over her waist, holding her body close to his. She was curled up against his chest that rose and fell against her back, his warmth passing through her skin, transferring to her like it was alive. She let out a breath and closed her eyes as she nestled into him.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she cracked an eye. It buzzed again. Then again. She didn’t want to wake Dillon, so she stretched for it. Her fingers grazed it, moving it toward her until it was close enough that she could grab it. The message flashed with twenty-seven phone calls and texts from a few friends of hers in Vegas. Her heart raced as she read them, and stopped completely on one in particular.
Eric has been asking around about u, and he’s acting weird. Is everything ok? Something’s not right. Call me.
She panicked, and her mind was razor sharp for what felt like the first time in days.
Eric hadn’t forgotten about them like they hoped.
She realized that Kiki was alone, and Kat hadn’t thought twice about staying all night with Dillon. Kiki literally hadn’t even crossed her mind. Kat was right all along. He was a distraction, and one that could cost Kiki her life.
I am so fucking stupid.
Her thoughts ran in circles, but the one thing she knew was that she had to get out of there. But how? Could she slip out without waking him? Her heart ached. She had to sneak away, because she couldn’t bear to leave him face-to-face.
Her eyes darted around the room for something to save her, and she decided on a pillow that was within reach. Kat slowly reached for it and pulled it close, then lifted his arm gingerly and slid out from underneath it. She slid the pillow into her place, and he shifted, squeezing it to his chest. She sat still as stone, waiting to see if he would wake, but his only movement was the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. She let out a breath and stood.
Kat pulled on her clothes as she watched him sleep. As much as she wanted him, it couldn’t work, not right then. She would call him and try to explain, hoping he would understand.
Dillon was too complicated, too much of a mystery to her still. She hadn’t ever had a real boyfriend, and she didn’t know how to handle herself, or him. There were too many variables. The outcome of mixing the unknowns wasn’t something that she had time or energy to figure out. He would have to wait. She had more important things to worry about. Namely, keeping her sister safe.
Kat picked up her shoes and took a last look at Dillon, his golden hair shining in the morning light, his strong arms gripping the pillow. Her heart skipped when she realized that he thought that pillow was her.
She pursed her lips, and the corners of her eyes stung as she turned to leave, walking as softly as she could on the hard wood, hoping not to hit a squeaky board. She made her way down the stairs, scooped up her keys, and trotted out the door.
Dillon woke with a start when a car engine rumbled outside, and wondered why he was hugging a pillow. He looked around the room, disoriented, then remembered. He sat up in bed.
Kat. She was gone.
He stepped out of bed and walked through the silent house, through the empty kitchen.
She left. Why would she leave? His brow furrowed as he paced.
Had he done something wrong? He replayed the night in his mind. Everything felt … right. He had convinced her to stay, maybe he read her wrong. Maybe she really wanted to leave. Maybe she just got caught up in the moment. Maybe he was just a one night stand.
He shook his head. It was more than that. He was certain. There had to be another reason.
Maybe she had somewhere to be. He was sure that was it. He would call her. But then again, he didn’t want to seem desperate.
Dillon trotted into his bedroom to pick up his phone. He texted Owen.
Kat just bolted, she didn’t say goodbye. Are you at her place?
A second later, his phone buzzed. Yeah. What do you mean, ‘she bolted’?
Yeah, idk. I don’t have a good feeling about this.
His phone buzzed again. Don’t assume anything, asshole. Call her. Heading that way in a few.
Dillon stared at his phone, his stomach in knots as he pulled up her name to find out for sure, holding his breath while it rang.
Kat shifted gears as she sped through Brooklyn, her rumbling car under her a small comfort while her mind spun around with her wheels.
What the fuck was she going to do? She had to get her head straight. Her fears were confirmed, and she knew she had to be alone until Eric was out of the picture. She had to take care of Kiki.
She thought about Dillon, felt his lips on hers, saw his hair shining in the morning light when she left him. Her nose pricked, a
nd she bit her lip to stop herself from crying. She was not going to cry.
The vice in her chest tightened with every second as she considered all of the ways Eric could find them without time for them to be warned. He could fly. He could stop asking and just leave. He could show up at any time.
The more she thought about it, the more upset she got. The whole thing was a mess. A big, ugly mess. She hoped that she could find a way to tell Dillon. He had to understand. She didn’t want to wait to be with him, but she had to. She didn’t know if she could keep Kiki safe if she were with Dillon, and the stakes were too high to risk it.
Kat downshifted and pulled into her garage, then closed her eyes and rested her head against the seat, thinking back to the day she learned the lesson that had dictated so much of her life.
Family is everything.
Kat drew another swoop with sidewalk chalk on her driveway and stood up to admire her work. She thought the garden she’d drawn looked pretty good, for a nine-year-old. She dusted her hands and turned to the sound of Kiki’s sweet voice as she played in the shade of a tree with her Barbies. They were all laid out on a blanket, other than Ken and Barbie, who were apparently on a date in their pink Corvette.
Grace popped her head out of the screen door. “Lunch is in a bit, girls. Five more minutes, okay?”
“Okay,” the girls sang in unison, and all three laughed as Grace closed the door.
A black Mercedes zoomed down the street and parked at the curb in front of their house. Two men stepped out, both wearing Hawaiian-print shirts that hung over their paunches. The passenger waited with his arms resting on the roof of the running car and his eyes scanning the streets. The driver left his door open and knelt on the sidewalk in front of Kiki with his elbows on his knees. They hadn’t seen Kat. She pressed her back up against the house and watched.
“Hey there, little girl. Whatcha playin’? Barbies?” He asked with a thick, New York accent.
Kiki eyed him and nodded.
He smiled. “Oh, my little girl loves Barbies. You know, she just got one of them Dreamhouses, you know the kind? With the elevator?”