by A. Star
She sat at one end of the table and my father sat at the other in our well-adorned dining room. My older brother, Garrett, and I sat in the middle facing one another. Physical contact was impossible. Our dining table was massive, and the only time we didn't look silly sitting at it was when there was a dinner party. My parents hosted a lot of dinner parties and our table could seat twenty with room to spare. One could easily imagine how ridiculous we looked, the four of us sitting so far away from each other for no reason at all. Sure, the table was from the sixteenth-century, but we didn't have to act like we were too, simply for propriety's sake. At least, that was how I saw it.
"It's not a big deal," I said. They all knew I was lying through my teeth. "I'll jus' practice and get better, and then I'll win back my chair."
Garrett grinned at me from across the table. "So someone finally bested you out, eh?"
I glared at him. "He didn' best me." I sighed and let my glare ease away. "But he was magnificent. Honestly, Garrett, I've never heard such beautiful music in my life. I didn' even know a violin could be played like tha'. He was extraordinary."
My brother smirked. "You seem jus' as into this fella as you are his music."
I blushed. I know I did. "I'm jus' sayin', I don't really mind anymore givin' up my chair to talent like tha'."
Garrett just continued to smirk as one of our immortal servants came in to refill our wine glasses.
"So wha' new pieces are you learnin'?" my da asked. I smiled, not missing the look he shot my mother. My parents already knew Liam was the mystery violinist, but clearly weren't going to bring it up until I did.
I sipped my wine. "It's another romantic composition by Balfe. Jus' when I think we've covered all the Balfe there is, Corrigan conjures up another piece."
Da chuckled. "Corrigan is quite the obsessive chap, isn' he?" My mother agreed with a chuckle of her own.
"A romantic piece, eh?" Garrett chimed in, his blue eyes alight with mischief. "Seems rather coincidental."
I rolled my eyes, wanting to bop my brother in his blonde head. "Bloody hell, Garrett. Get off it already."
"I'm jus' showin' concern for my baby sister, is all. Wouldn' want you fallin' in love with the wrong fella, now would I?"
I snorted. "Who said anythin' abou' love, ya dope? You should be more concerned tha' he's an immortal celeste."
"Immortal celeste?" Garrett questioned, too busy staring at me to notice our parents exchange another look. "At your university? In your band?"
"Aye," I replied. "He says he's here because he has business." I looked at my father. "With Da."
My father cut Garrett off before he could speak. "Please, Marie. Please be nice to him. His purpose here is...important." He shot my mother a tight look. I saw her nervously tuck her chin-length blonde hair behind her ears, then start to nurse her wine glass.
"Wait, this immortal really is here on business, Da?" Garrett asked. "Influential business?" I could tell he was a bit offended he'd been left out of the loop.
Da didn't answer. He looked at me, his dark brows low and serious. "Swear to me you will be nice, Marie."
He wasn't asking. He was telling me what he wanted me to do. "Aye, Da. I'll be nice."
"Swear it!"
His tone startled me and I dropped my fork. It clanged against my plate before landing on the table. "Aye, Da. I swear I'll be nice to him."
"The subject is now closed," Da said, cutting off Garrett's protest with a glare. "This is a private matter tha' is none of your concern, Garrett." He looked at me. "Siobhan will take the lead on this one."
"Me?" I squeaked.
"Siobhan?" Garrett sputtered.
"Aye," Da said to me. "I think it's time tha' you got more involved in this family's affairs."
I didn't know why. Garrett was next in line to be the head of our family and handle all of the Influential politics. I was in line to be my mother and host weekly tea parties for other wealthy women in Dublin with nothing better to do. At least, that was what was expected of me.
"Am I askin' too much of you to keep him...happy?" Da questioned.
The way he said the word made me nervous. "No, Da," I said, forcing a smile. "I can handle it."
My parents seemed relieved by my answer. Garrett glared at me as though I had just sawed the wings off his favorite pegasus. I decided then not to reveal that Liam had asked me out to lunch that week and I had just decided to accept.
Thankfully, the conversation soon shifted from Liam to Garrett's recent engagement to his fiancé e, Melissa. I stayed out of it, not because I didn't like Melissa, but because I honestly didn't have anything to add to the banter. I mean, we'd all moved past the fact that Garrett was bringing an average mortal woman into our crazy world of gods, immortals, and monsters. She'd handled the truth well and had even been presented to Zeus to swear her allegiance to the gods, as divine law demanded when a mortal married into an Influential family.
I was a bit jealous of that fact. Here I was, an Influential by blood, and I'd never met a deity, let alone the King of the gods. But I guessed I'd never had a reason to. I was born under oath and could never betray the gods to the mortal world simply because the gods had sworn to destroy the entire bloodline of any family who violated this oath. It had been done before. So my lips were sealed forever, whether I wanted them to be or not. And once Melissa married my brother, hers would be too.
The servants delivered dessert, then we all retreated to our private sanctuaries. My father to his study, my mother to her bedroom, and Garrett to his flat in the city. Only Influential daughters were imprisoned until marriage. Sons could do whatever they wanted. The day Garrett had turned eighteen, my father had presented him with keys to his own flat in downtown Dublin where Vicky and Rupert also shared a flat. For my eighteenth birthday, I'd gotten a new dress.
I loved my family and was proud to be a Law, but the hierarchy within the Influential realm was beyond unfair. Heirs or not, women were treated as inferior beings and I'd packed my bags to abandon this life many times. But I always knew I would never get far. There wasn't a city, state, or country in all the world that I could hide from my family in. Besides, by divine law, my inheritance was to remain locked away in a vault until I married, so I would be fleeing and destitute. The only consolation to staying was that I got to choose the husband who would help me spend my millions one day, which to me wasn't much of a consolation at all.
My room, or rather, suite, was on the other side of the mansion, far away from my parents, so I knew they wouldn't bother me for the rest of the night. I had been given most of the rooms on this side of our estate, but I was sure that had only been done to create a false sense of independence for me.
Besides my bedroom, I had a soundproof practice room and a very Greek-style andron where I could enjoy a glass of wine and read in peace. One of my rooms also served as a closet. Amongst my everyday garments and countless pairs of shoes, resided my ball gowns and formal wear. My family and I attended quite a few balls and parties, mortal and Influential, where this type of attire was required. Though I wasn't one who enjoyed fashion and the lot, it was nice to dress up fancy every once in a while and flirt with handsome young men in tuxedoes.
After changing into more casual clothing, I played my violin. The session went on about two hours before I was satisfied with my progress. I returned to my room but put off calling Vicky in favor of a bath, which my immortal servant Emmaline prepared for me.
The water was perfect and sultry against my skin. Scented steam swirled up all around me. I submerged my entire body before coming up, slicking back my hair and leaning my head against the padded headrest. The heat from the water seeped right down into my muscles, completely relaxing me. I closed my eyes and let the classical music that drifted from the loo's speakers drown out every thought in my mind. Even my thoughts of Liam.
I remained this way for some time before I got the feeling that I was being watched. I opened my eyes and looked around. No one was there.
/>
"Emmaline?" I called out softly. She didn't reply, but that had been expected. I had sent her off to bed for the night after she had made sure that one of the kitchen servants would be delivering my herbal tea once I finished my bath.
"Ma?" I tried. Sometimes my mother visited me before turning in for the night, and I thought maybe this was one of those rare occasions where she actually showed true concern for my well-being. But my mother never appeared.
After I spent another few minutes on alert, I giggled at myself for being so paranoid and settled back down into the still warm water.
But the feeling didn't leave me and a moment later, I sat up again. This time, I knew for sure.
I was being watched. By the god. And it wasn't the first time.
Gods had divine sight, which meant they could see whatever they focused their sole attention on. From anywhere. Even Olympus. There was really no other explanation for the unpleasant sensation crawling up my spine. It had been a long time since I'd felt it, but Influentials had a sixth sense about these sorts of things and I knew I was right. The god was watching me.
But why were they watching me? Why here? Why at this moment?
"Siobhan," a male voice whispered. I nearly came out of my skin. This was the first time the god had ever spoken to me.
"Who is it?" I asked in one panic-stricken breath. "Wha' do you want?"
There was a long silence, then the voice said, "You."
An utterly euphoric sensation struck me right at the apex of my thighs. I gasped and heard the voice chuckle. Before I could freak out, a sense of calm overwhelmed me and I found myself relaxing again. I let my head fall back onto my headrest, just as another sensation assaulted my core. My back arched, forcing my breasts to peek out of the water. A moan slipped from my lips. I wanted to cover my mouth, but my hands gripped the sides of the tub, unable to let go.
Pressure built down below and gods forgive me, it was the most wonderful thing I'd ever felt. My core pulsed with every jolt and I swore loudly, my head thrashing side to side because there was nothing else for it to do. The pleasure built up so fast and intense that all I could do was hold on and ride it out.
Moan after moan slipped out of me. I couldn't control them. I wanted to touch myself, but the god in charge would not let me. He didn't need my help. He was doing a fine job of blowing my mind all on his own.
It didn't take long for the feeling to completely overwhelm me. My fingers clenched the side of the tub as the rising pleasure broke loose and poured out of me in waves so powerful it took my breath away.
For several moments, all I could do was keep still and let my heart finish racing. I stared at the ceiling waiting, hoping, the god would say something. But he never did. I didn't understand. How was I supposed to process what had just happened? Did he even expect me to?
After my body semi-recovered, I climbed out of my tub to find water all over the marble floor. I blushed and snatched a few towels from the linen cupboard to clean it up.
In a daze, I dried myself and headed into my bedroom. I didn't touch the tea steaming away on my night table. My hands were shaking too badly and the last thing I needed were third-degree burns. Wet hair and all, I slipped into bed naked and pulled the blankets up over my head, hoping that the servant who had delivered my tea hadn't heard me moaning. I'd never be able to leave my room again if they had.
I felt ashamed for some reason, though I hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't a crime to have an orgasm, only I didn't feel that way. It had felt as wrong as it had right. Bloody hell, it had felt so right. So why was I ashamed? Because I liked it? Because I loved it?
Or was it because the invisible deity that I knew had been watching me for years had used me for his own entertainment and still refused to reveal himself to me? I couldn't make sense of it. Why did he choose this moment to finally speak to me? I wanted to see him, and it wasn't just because I'd never met a god before. I wanted to see this god. I wanted to know him and understand why his gaze was on me. But I supposed I was a fool to have had these sorts of expectations of a deity. They were well known for their cruel and dishonest ways and their only obligations were to themselves.
It took hours for me to fall asleep. But when I could no longer stay awake, I let my eyes fall closed and tried not to long to see the divine being that I knew I never would.
IV. A LOVER'S KISS
The weekend passed dreadfully slow, and I didn't try to deny that it was because I was anxious to see Liam again. Not an hour passed since I'd met Liam that I hadn't thought about him. My parents never mentioned him to me after that dinner, and I was left to wonder what business he had with my da and why they were keeping so quiet about it. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was important, which led me to question why I was being tasked with keeping the immortal...happy. I hoped agreeing to go to lunch with him was good enough, because there was no way in hell I was going to sleep with him as he'd requested. Influential business be damned.
I tried not to think about that night in my bathtub. I'd accepted that I would never meet the god who watched me, but I still didn't know how to feel about what had happened. I couldn't tell Vicky when she stopped by, and my mother was out of the question. She wouldn't have had the first idea of how to help me make sense of what had happened and probably would have made it all worse. So I just kept it to myself and tried not to fantasize about it too often.
I got my secret wish and Liam was in my music history class that Monday. Coincidence? I never thought so for a moment. He had already infiltrated my band, of course he would invade my classes as well. Was he really doing all of this just to get me into bed? I couldn't be sure.
"Hello, Siobhan Law," he said, setting down his violin, removing his coat, then sliding into the desk next to me. I always arrived a bit early for class, so there were only a few other students in the room.
"Hello," I replied, pretending to be arranging my class notes instead of checking out his appearance. He was wearing all black again—a collared shirt and crisp slacks—and it was all I could do not to stare in admiration. Coupled with his coal hair and rousing blue eyes, he couldn't have looked more delicious.
"What kind of food do you like?"
I finally turned to meet his gaze. "Wha' do you mean?"
"Food, Siobhan. Ever heard of it?"
I frowned. "Don't patronize me. I jus' wanted to know why you're askin'."
"We're going to lunch after the forum, aren't we?"
I raised a brow. "I turned you down Saturday, remember?"
"Of course. But you're dressed so beautifully for me that I figured you must have changed your mind."
Liam grinned and waited while I tried to come up with a reply. All I could do was frown. How dare he insinuate that I had dressed for him? He was right, of course, but he didn't have to know it. I opened my textbook to catch up on my reading and tried to pretend that Liam wasn't there. I failed miserably and every few minutes I looked up to find him watching me with those gemstone eyes of his.
"I'm surprised you can keep your duds on with the way you two keep gawkin' at each other."
I rolled my eyes and closed my book. "Mornin', Vicky." Rupert only shared a Wednesday class with us so I was on my own with my chit best friend.
"How are you, Victoria?" Liam asked, writing something down on a piece of paper he pulled from a notebook he'd brought with him.
"I'm wonderful," she replied, settling in at the desk behind me. "Had myself a bloody good shag this mornin', so I'm in a better mood than normal for a Monday." Liam burst out laughing.
"Startin' kind of early today, Vicky," I said, turning in my seat.
"Can't help it. Rupert was in rare form. I had to tell someone and I chose you."
"And Liam," I said with a frown.
"I don't mind," he said, now folding the piece of paper.
"See? Liam doesn' mind. You're the only one always complain' abou' your bloody virgin ears."
I blushed. "I jus' believe there's a time and place
for everythin'."
"Damn right there is. And Rupert and I try to make time for a romp, every place we go."
Liam laughed again, and I gave up on Vicky and turned forward. The professor walked in and at the same time, Liam handed me the paper he'd folded into a tiny square. As the rest of the students settled in, I unfolded the paper and read what it said.
I have not been able to stop thinking about you.
The smile spread across my lips before I could stop it. I looked up to find Liam staring at me and my smile faded at the rabid lust in his eyes. This man wanted me, and I realized he hadn't at all accepted 'no' as my final answer. In fact, my refusal only encouraged him, and as much as it bothered me to admit it, that excited me.
Class ended early, which didn't often happen but was always a welcome surprise. After helping me into my coat and putting on his own, Liam tucked our violins under one arm—because real musicians carried their instruments everywhere—and offered me the other. I didn't hesitate. I smiled up at him and wrapped my arm around his. I turned to find Vicky staring at me like I'd just sprouted wings, a tail, and hoofed feet. I hadn't told her about my lunch date with Liam.
"Call me tonight, you vixen," she had no issues with voicing out loud. Liam laughed, and blushing, I nodded, then practically dragged the immortal from the room.
Liam and I walked to O'Connell's, which wasn't far from campus. I was in the mood for boxties and beer, and on top of that, a restaurant/pub like O'Connell's was the perfect place for a first date with someone I was trying not to sleep with. It was too rough around the edges to be anything close to romantic.
After placing our instruments beneath our table, Liam slid into the snug next to me instead of sitting across from me, leaving me with no escape route. Not that I wanted to escape, but it was clear that I wouldn't be leaving until he was ready to let me go and that made me nervous.
"You really do look beautiful today, Siobhan," he said, his Greek accent a little deeper than I'd heard it.
I blushed and mumbled, "Thank you."
"That skirt is just tight enough to not leave too much to my imagination, luckily for you."