Ares didn’t answer her, but stalked away. He didn’t know nor did he care where he was going, only that it was away from that woman. That goddess. She was nothing more than a social train wreck with some great tactical skills. Never once had her intentions been to help Ares, only herself. Every time she had any interest in Ares or what he was doing, it was only to wreck it. She destroyed each and every idea Ares ever had. He could still feel her behind him as he walked, but she had stopped following him. Soon, he would be far enough away from her to rest. The pain he wasn’t willing to admit he was feeling was becoming near unbearable.
He rounded yet another corner and kept going. He had no idea where his feet would take him, nor did he care. The sound of rapid gunfire grabbed his attention. His heart sped up in his chest and the pain escalated. A sharp jab went from his chest up his neck and into the back of his head. His palms became slick and Ares began to breathe harder. What was wrong with him? Images of his own chest, bleeding and in pain, raced through his head. He shook it off and forced his feet to move faster down the dark inner city street before he was forced to examine his body's reaction to the gunfire too closely. He wasn't running away, he reminded himself, he had places to go and things to do. Just because he hadn't decided what those things were didn't mean they weren't time sensitive. Right?
Chapter Nine
Sleep had been elusive for Emma for hours after Ares left her. Her mind was solidly stuck on that kiss. It was nothing, really, but it felt like everything. It made her feel things that she didn't want to feel. She had sworn when her ex left her that she would never allow herself to feel for another man. Just because this man was gorgeous to a fault, had the body of a pro-wrestler, and made her insides tingle with just a whisper of a touch, did not mean she should stupidly fall head over ass for him.
She cursed herself for being ten kinds of moron. She didn't know him, and she was pretty sure that he was just this side of crazy. However, there was no denying that there was definitely an attraction there. Had her life really come to this? She had allowed a complete stranger to follow her home, come in her home, took him to the hospital, stayed with him, and then let him in again. And, she allowed him to kiss her. Big mistake. One she wouldn't be making again.
There was just something about him, though, that called to her. When he was around, Emma felt like she already knew him. It was as if they had known each other in another life or something. She knew without a doubt that he would be back. It was just a matter of when.
She tossed and turned in her bed, doing her best to convince herself that she did not want that man. He was no good for her. It was in her best interest to keep him at arm's length. She should just keep him away, period. Just as she was falling asleep, her heart rejected that idea so strongly that it stuttered and skipped a beat.
***
This place is incredible, Emma thought to herself in her dream. She was walking through a field of flowers at the foot of a mountain, the sun's rays warming the skin of her shoulders. She was wearing a white sundress and no shoes. Every step she took crushed the soft, velvety grass under her feet, but she couldn’t feel bad for doing it. The greens felt amazing to her feet. The aroma from the lilies was intoxicating, their delicate white petals leaning with the breeze.
As she walked, Emma couldn't stop the smile that lit her face. This place was amazing. Where was she, though. The flowers gave way to a scattering of grape vines, then to a full orchard. Picking one from its vine, she stopped to have a taste. The sweet, red juice spilled from the fruit and ran down her chin, staining her skin.
To her left, Emma could see the side of a mountain covered in thick trees and brush. The brilliant greens of the leaves stood out in stark contrast to the blue sky all around her. It was odd how the sky seemed to reach all the way to the ground and then some, as if the horizon was actually below where she stood. The fluffy white clouds sat very low in the sky, almost at the horizon, and the sky above them was clear as a summer day.
A movement about halfway up the mountain caught Emma's attention and she knew she would be investigating. A part of her warned that it was a bad idea, but another part also knew on some level that she was dreaming and went for it. As she ascended the mountain, Emma was surprised that she didn't get winded in the least. She came to a clearing in the trees, only to find a large gazebo made of stone pillars. Vines snaked their way up the pillars, reaching for the stone roof, twisting and turning perfectly so that each flower bloom had the best light from the sun. Under the shade of the gazebo, was a man. He was stretched out on a lounge chair that was made of heavy wood and covered in thick, plush, velvety red material. The man, however, was dressed in what looked like ancient battle armor. His legs were bare, covered only by a pair of leather sandals. Her eyes moved up those powerful legs to a waist covered with leather and steel … and was that a skirt? His chest was covered in the brass colored armor that left his muscular arms bare. And then she saw his face.
"Ares?" she asked.
He was toying with a large steel blade that he set aside when she said his name. Broadsword, the word finally came to her mind.
"Hello, love." He smiled at her in that cocky way she had come to associate with him.
"Where is this place?" she asked. Never mind that her stalker was wearing ancient Greek armor.
"This is my home," he told her as he stood up to his full height.
"This is not New York," Emma said, distractedly.
With a chuckle, Ares said, "No, it's not."
He came to stand close to her, close enough that he could touch her, and he did. His large hand reached for her face, cradling it in his palm.
"I'm dreaming," she said.
"Yes," he agreed, using his other hand to hold her waist and pull her body closer to his.
"But this is a bad idea," she reminded him.
"But you are dreaming," Ares breathed into her hair. He was taking her scent into his lungs, as if he were trying to commit it to memory. "And you can allow yourself a little bit of leeway in a dream."
Emma thought that one over. He was right. She was dreaming and it wasn't real. Why not? She reached to his neck and gripped the back of his too long hair in her fist, pulling his mouth to hers. He chuckled into her mouth before shoving his tongue inside. He tasted her, sucking her tongue into his mouth, inspecting all of her teeth, nibbling on her lips. He kissed her with a fire that could only truly occur in a dream.
Everywhere he had exposed skin, Emma touched. Her hands roamed over the tight muscles of his biceps, across his shoulders, and up the back of his neck. Her fingers tangled in his dark hair, holding his mouth to her as if she were afraid he would disappear if she let go. She needed him, craved him. His spicy masculine scent filled her nose and made her drunk with its rich aroma. Her body responded to him even more violently in this dream than it had in real life. Her knees went weak, her breath escaped her, her heart sped, and she could feel the wetness gathering on the inside of her thighs. What was it about him that affected her this way?
"I can't wait," Ares growled in her ear as he scooped her up off her feet and carried her to the lounge chair.
He sat her down gently on the edge and pushed her dress up, exposing her heated flesh to him. Dropping to his knees, Ares wedged his large shoulders between her legs and kissed the tops of her thighs.
"Oh that's nice," she moaned, leaning back to grant him better access.
"Nice?" he asked. "This is not nice. This is incredible, hot, sexy ... but nice? I fear I must teach you a lesson, Warrior." He ran his hands up her legs to her core and parted her flesh with his thumbs. "You are beautiful," he told her.
He made circles just above her clit with his thumbs, teasing her until she could no longer stand the sweet torture.
"Ares," she complained.
"Yes, love?" he asked innocently.
"Now, please," she demanded.
Ares rose, pushing her back into the chair further, his weight towering over her as he positioned himse
lf at her entrance. Emma realized that they were both naked and wondered where their clothes had gone. Her thought train derailed, though, as he pushed himself inside of her.
"Oh shit," she growled as he filled her slowly.
He was so much, too much, and yet not enough at the same time. She gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into the skin as he pushed and retreated slowly. He took his time until he was seated all the way to the hilt inside of her.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Emma nodded and Ares began to move. She wrapped her legs around his waist, but was unable to lock her ankles behind him because their difference in size was just too much. Ares curled his large body and pushed one hand behind her back, forcing her to arch her breast up to his waiting mouth. He kept moving inside her as he took one tight nipple into his hot mouth, rolling it between his teeth. Electric pleasure shot through Emma's entire body, gathering in her core. She could feel the heat building in her and she knew it wouldn't be long.
Ares slipped his hand around her thigh, pulling her leg up higher. This caused him to penetrate deeper and Emma screamed.
"That's it," he encouraged her, "Fly for me."
Emma felt her vision tunneling as the orgasm crashed over her in wave after wave. Her body wound tight and all she could do was hold on as Ares continued to thrust deep inside her. When she could finally breathe, Ares moved faster. The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the air as he raised up and went completely still. The vein in the side of his neck stood out as he watched Emma. Then, he threw his head back and roared as his release took over.
Emma sat straight up in bed, sweat covering her whole body. What a freaking dream! She got up to get a drink of water and noticed that her thighs were wet with a release she had apparently had in her sleep.
"Wow," she said aloud, "Not only can you not get him out of your head, but now you're having wet dreams!"
She felt herself blushing even though there was no one but her in the apartment as she went to clean up.
Chapter Ten
"You are here. Again," Emma said with a heavy sigh that belied her excitement to see Ares standing outside her door.
She leaned against the open door, effectively blocking his entry into her apartment.
A huge grin split his face and his eyes smiled with him, making Emma's insides turn to mush. Why did he have to be so damned hot?
"I thought of a great way to thank you, and to apologize for my behavior," he rumbled in that sexy as sin voice.
He leaned his huge body against the door jamb and waited for her answer.
"You've already done that," she countered with a smile of her own. Was she flirting? Oh god, she was!
"Listen," he said, "My mother would have my hide if she knew how I treated you. Please, so that she doesn't kill me, allow me to make amends properly."
She thought it over while chewing her bottom lip. Images from last night's dream flashed through her mind and her cheeks heated. What could it hurt?
"What did you have in mind?" she asked.
"Just dinner," Ares answered, pulling his weight off the jamb to stand upright. "Maybe a walk through Times Square."
Emma looked for a reason, any reason to say no, but there was no denying the butterflies that instantly took up residence in her belly or the thrill of excitement in her blood just at the thought of spending some time with this man.
"When?"
"Right now, of course," he answered. "Unless you've already eaten?"
Her stomach chose that exact moment to growl. Traitor. With a laugh, she told him, "No, not yet. But I'll have to get ready."
"You look fine," he countered.
Emma rolled her eyes. "Come in while I change," she said, opening the door wider for him and moving her own body out of the way.
He followed her inside, his shoulders barely clearing the small door frame. Just as she closed the door, the news came on the television.
"NYPD made an arrest in a face-slashing that left a man paralyzed," the anchor announced. “It was brutal, cutting not only his face, but the back of his neck and spinal cord as well. Doctors say the damage may not be reversible.”
"Good lord, what is wrong with people?" Emma asked, more to the universe than to Ares. "This shit has been going on for weeks now. Why would anyone do that?"
Ares knew exactly why. Because he was there, wandering the streets. Humans were feeling the effect of not only his presence, but his inner turmoil and someone took it upon themselves to cut faces. Others followed suit, making what seemed to be an epidemic. At first, a sense of pride in his work filled his chest, but after seeing the disgusted look on Emma's face, that pride quickly deflated and turned into something else. It caused his stomach to drop and he felt like he was covered in a thick coating of dirt. He didn't like that he had caused this. This was yet another new emotion. Shame. He quickly moved to turn the television off as if she would know it was his fault just by listening to it.
"No need to worry about that tonight," he said. "You're safe with me."
Emma turned and flashed him a genuine smile. She already knew that. Deep down in her bones, she knew he would never let any harm come to her. It was nice, really, feeling protected. Of course, there was no logical explanation for the way he made her feel, and she was pretty certain that he was nuts. But hey, no one's perfect, right?
"I'll just be a few minutes," she said, before disappearing to her room.
Ares pretended not to hear Emma cursing under her breath as she rushed to find something she thought suitable to wear. A burlap sack would have looked stunning on her, but he knew she would just huff at him if he voiced it. No, Ares had been around enough women to know that he needed to let her primp and then compliment her when she was done. He paced slowly through her small apartment, taking note that there wasn’t any photographs of family or friends. In fact, there were very few personal items. It seemed odd for a human. They liked their photos and mementos. As he ventured down the short hallway, he stopped at her door.
“Son of a bitch,” Emma growled from the other side of the door, followed by a loud thud.
There were more soft curses and the sounds of shuffling. He wondered what she was doing in there. He heard her footsteps approaching the door so he moved back to the living room quickly. He stood there, as if he hadn’t moved, as she came back to him.
One look at her and he was a goner. If there had been any doubt before, there was none left. She had put on a deep green dress that just kissed the top of her knees, the bodice fitting her torso like a satin glove. The V neck both hid and showcased her breasts at the same time while the color of the material reflected back to him in her eyes.
She was stunning.
“I’m sorry,” she said, fussing over her hair. “I tried to hurry.”
Ares opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again when no words came to him.
“Should I change?” she asked, misinterpreting his silence for disapproval.
“Don’t you dare,” he breathed. “You look beautiful.”
Emma blushed and Ares decided right then that the rouge looked good on her. He couldn’t wait to take that dress off of her and take her until the sun rose. His body responded and his cock thickened behind his fly. He wondered if she tasted as delicious as he thought she would.
“Are we going?” she asked, bringing the god out of his own head.
Oh yeah, she was human. He had to wine and dine her first, then fuck her until she couldn’t move. Then his curse would be broken and he would be free. The workings of that he was still trying to figure out, but it was a good battle plan, one he intended to win.
“Yes, of course,” he answered and held out his arm for her.
She took it, and Ares led her out of the apartment and down the street. It didn’t take Ares long to hail a cab and when it stopped, he held the door open for his warrior.
“Ladies first,” he rumbled. Emma gave him a small smile and slid into the backseat of the cab. “200 West 44th S
treet,” he told the driver.
The man barely fit in the small cab, Emma thought to herself. She had slid all the way over to the furthest window and even though there was a good foot of space between them, she could feel the heat coming off his body. When he had shown up at her door again, dressed in black slacks and a black button down silk shirt, all of her brain circuits misfired. He wasn’t just handsome, he was downright gorgeous. He reminded her of some Greek god come to life right in front of her. His chest stretched the delicate material of his shirt, allowing little to the imagination. When she accepted his offer for dinner, there was no way she was going in jeans and a t-shirt. A twisted ankle and a couple of bruises later, due to her own clumsiness, Emma still felt underdressed compared to him.
But when he saw her … oh god, when he looked at her, she could feel his eyes eating her up. He was taking that dress off of her in his head, she was sure of it. She could feel his gaze on her skin as if he were touching her with his hands. It made her feel beautiful. Sexy. Desired. All the things she hadn’t felt in longer than she cared to admit. All the feelings that led to trouble.
She stole glances at him from under her lashes, doing her best to not act like she wanted to climb up his body and have her wicked way with him. It was a new sensation for her. She hadn’t felt this much sexual tension for anyone, not even her ass of an ex-fiancé. She knew without a doubt that if he touched her, she would melt for him. Sure, he was just this side of crazy, but weren’t most people in New York?
The car slowed and finally pulled over in front of Carmine’s Restaurant. Emma couldn’t help but smile. She loved Italian. He was a perfect gentleman and opened the door for her, and even helped her out of the car.
Once inside, the wonderful aroma of garlic and herbs filled her senses. She had always loved the dark mahogany wood and the red leather-topped bar stools. They talked over dinner, Portobellos parmigiana for an appetizer, chicken saltimbocca for her and veal scaloppini marsala for him. They made small talk, each carefully avoiding anything too personal.
The War Within (Curse of the Gods Book 1) Page 5