by Lyn Cash
Iris left to follow the others, and Kris trailed after them, dropping onto the top step as her therapy group took off in their vehicles. Sue led the entourage, revving the motor of her compact family car as if she was taking part in a road race. Sue—her biggest success out of the group. Relying on connecting with a man to make her happy.
When Sue had come to Kris, she’d been a tearful, fragile shell of a woman. After thirty-two years, her husband had traded her in for a younger model. It had shattered her, and it had taken Kris nearly six months to help Sue regain self-confidence and purpose, to visualise her dreams and set even the simplest of goals.
She’d be damned if she’d let someone like Pan Arcadia ruin all that. To hell with it, she’d go down to the mall and have it out with him. He hadn’t listened to her last time. Maybe she could appeal to his better nature—if he had one—if she explained Sue’s case.
With a purpose in mind, Kris rushed back inside to shower and change into her bike leathers. It all took longer than she’d expected, what with having to arrange fresh appointment times for her late afternoon clients. At least an hour had passed before she was back outside, wheeling her precious ’84 FXR Harley out of the garage. Flipping her long hair up on top of her head, she jammed on the helmet and straddled the bike.
As she turned the key in the ignition, a momentary thought flitted through her mind. She’d never seen her “ladies” so animated. Should she just let this run its course and not interfere? Then she thought of Sue. She couldn’t bear to see her hurt or humiliated again.
“Damn you, Pan, this time you’re going to answer some questions. And if I find out it’s those pan-pipes turning you into the Pied Piper of lust, I’ll break the bloody instrument over your head.”
* * * *
“That’s it for the moment, everyone. I’m going to leave you with a much-requested classic while I take a break.” Pan flipped a switch and soft violin music filled the impromptu recording booth. “I’ll be right back, folks.”
As he exited the glass-enclosed area, the crowd of women pressed closer to the edge of the stage. The noise was deafening. Female voices screamed out his name, made outrageous demands of a purely sexual nature. Some of them reached out to snag a grip on the leg of his jeans. He took the time to squat and grasp a hand here, drop a kiss on a palm there, leave a caress on an upturned cheek.
They were his adoring public, and he owed it to them. It was what he’d wanted when he’d come to the earthly realm. Women fawning over him, elevating him to his god-like stature. Why then do I feel as if I’m missing something? Maybe what his friend Eros—
Nah, this life suited him down to the ground.
He smiled at the women pressed against the front of the stage, and he blew a kiss for them. They reached up, hands pawing at his clothes. The security guard bounded up on the stage to extricate him, and Pan stood, placing the guard between him and the crowd. He’d just turned towards the stairs leading to the dressing room under the stage when something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.
A woman stood on the edge of the crowd watching him, one hand on her hip and the other cradling a black bike helmet, a leather handbag thrown over one shoulder, and it looked as though she’d been shopping—a brightly-coloured plastic sack peeked out of the purse’s opening.
Tight black leather trousers caressed her long legs. They ended just below her navel, a thick black belt cinched about her hips. The glint of a shiny red stone in her belly button drew attention to the gentle curve of her stomach.
A black t-shirt hugged her upper body and cut off just above her waist. It was tight enough to show off her more than generous curves to the best advantage. Straight blonde hair framed her face and brushed her shoulders. A lock fell forwards over one lush breast, and Pan had an irresistible urge to rush over to her and brush it back.
The woman from last night. Doctor Kris.
Nerves tightened in the pit of Pan’s stomach. A flutter of excitement zapped through him leaving behind a tingling sensation. It heated his blood and drove his pulse rate higher. His cock hardened, pushing against the zip of his jeans. Pain lanced through his scalp, signalling the appearance of his horns, part of his original persona of half man and half goat.
By the gods, if he didn’t get out of here he’d disgrace himself in front of his fans. He slammed his hands over the protruding bumps on his head and spun towards the security guard. He pointed his chin in the direction of the leather-clad female. “The woman in black over there? Her name’s Kris. Ask her if she’ll come down to my dressing room.”
Turning his back on the crowd, he stomped down the stairs and disappeared through the door under the stage. Hell, he had to get himself under control before she arrived. The room was nothing more than one large area with a glassed-in shower on one side and an enclosed toilet beside it. A washbasin stood cheek to jowl beside a makeup table on the opposite side of the room. Comfy lounge chairs and a single bed, plus racks for costumes, took up the rest of the room.
He shut himself inside the shower recess, flicked the taps on and stuck his head under the stream of water, hoping the cold flow would cool his ardour. After a few minutes, he dragged his head out and snagged a towel from the rack beside him, rubbing at the wet hair and the droplets that ran down his face. His blood still thundered through his veins. His body felt like it was about to burst into flames. And two ebony horns stuck up through the dark curls on his head.
“Shit!” He reefed off his clothes and tossed them outside the shower. Then he stood under the cold spray. Goosebumps broke out on his skin as the icy water cascaded over him. He kept his hands on his head, relieved when his horns started to retract. Where the hell was his magic? It should have stopped something like this from happening.
He frowned as a thought crossed his mind. “Eros? Cupid! What have you done to me?”
“I left you your music so I don’t know what you’re worried about. Anyway, you’re playing the horny goat so you may as well look the part.”
Pan groaned as his friend’s voice echoed inside his head. Damn the little trickster, screwing with his life like this. As he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, he suddenly remembered he’d asked the security guard to direct Kris to his dressing room. Christ, she was probably out there waiting right now.
Wrapping the towel about his middle, he slid the glass doors open and stepped out to see Doctor Kris standing in front of the basin beside the makeup table, wiping her hands.
“Hmm, I wonder what the women outside would do if they saw you like this?” Kris tossed the towel she’d used onto the bench beside her. “Want me to call them?” She grabbed the purchase she’d made prior to visiting Pan’s dressing room, stuffed it into her handbag, and walked towards the door.
Pan rushed across the room, stumbling over his shoes in passing. He fell, slamming into the door, his head connecting with a distinct thump. He rubbed at the spot. “Ah, no, I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Kris raised her eyebrows. “I would have thought you’d enjoy it. Seems to me you’d like all those females fawning and drooling over you. They’d be ripping their clothes off to join you if they saw you like this.”
She let her gaze glide over him. His wet hair curled about his face, dripping water down his forehead. Droplets fell from his jaw and trailed down his chest, glistening on the perfectly delineated muscles and catching in the swirl of dark hair that swept from his nipples in an arrow that disappeared under the band of the terry cloth at his waist.
The towel slipped down to his hips. Pan grabbed it and held it in place. Kris grinned as she allowed her gaze to linger on the rapidly rising bump in the front and the bare expanse of his legs beneath. “Shouldn’t you be back outside by now?”
He flicked a quick look at the clock fixed to the wall above the makeup bench. “You’re right. Perhaps we can talk while I get dressed.”
She leaned back against the closed door, surreptitiously wiping her sweaty hands on the bottom
of her t-shirt. Oh my, he was going to dress in front of her? Until now, she’d seen him as an obnoxious, arrogant prick, but when he was vulnerable like he was at the moment, he really was a gorgeous beast.
He grabbed a shirt from one of the racks and shrugged into it, leaving the buttons open for the moment. Taking a fresh pair of underwear from the bag on the chair in front of the bench, he flipped her a cheeky smile and kept her pinned with his dark gaze as he stepped into them, dragging them on underneath the damp towel.
When he dropped the towel, Kris got an eyeful of the briefest of black underpants that barely confined his sex. The stretchy fabric hugged and revealed his every curve.
Her face warmed as she stared into his glittering eyes. Her hormones suddenly went on the rampage, sweeping through her body with a lick of fire. Her nipples peaked and she crossed her arms over her chest to hide the fact from him. Damn, one sexy smile from him and she’d about crumbled.
She struggled for composure. “So why did you want to see me?” Business, Kris, business!
He stepped into his jeans and pulled them up until they hung off his hips, the fly undone. Then he sat and put on his shoes and socks. “I, ah, needed to talk to you. Alone.”
“What about? I don’t—Ouch!” She slapped at the side of her neck. “You need to get this room fumigated. You’ve got mosquitoes the size of elephants in here.”
“Hmm, I haven’t been troubled by them. Perhaps—” He slapped at his left pectoral, right over the heart. “Damn, you’re right. I’ll have to talk to the management.”
Kris blinked her eyes. She could have sworn she’d seen a flutter of gold light hover in the air above Pan for a moment. With a shake of her head, she put it out of her mind. She had enough to worry about. Namely Sue, poor Iris, and her other patients.
“Now, where were we?” Pan suddenly invaded her space and braced his hands either side of her on the door.
Instinctively, Kris set her hands on his chest to push him back. Mid-thought, she changed her mind. Instead, her fingers curled inwards as she struggled to resist the temptation to drag her palms down all that warm, golden skin. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “Um, I wanted to talk to you about what you’re doing to my therapy group. Are you going to go out there and play your…instrument?”
Pan pressed his lower body against hers. “Baby, those women like my…instrument. Of course, if you want to play…”
Kris bit back a moan at his unfinished sentence. It wasn’t just his words that had her burning from the inside out. It was the distinctive bulge nestled between her thighs as if it had a perfect right to be there. She fought the impulse to thrust her hips forwards, to rub her aching pussy against his hard cock. Hell, this guy was turning her into a blithering idiot. She’d be damned if she’d let him get away with that.
“Back off, bozo.” This time she did push him away. “You’ve got sex on the brain.”
“That’s what my fans like.” He pressed his hips closer.
She gulped. “Well, I’m not a fan. I’m a concerned doctor.” She shoved him backwards and ducked under his arm. “You are so used to all those women drooling over you, treating them like fawning sycophants has gone to your head.”
“You’re the one who wanted me to talk dirty to you!”
“Not to me!” She groaned. “I told you—this is purely professional.”
“Well, I’m not a gigolo. I don’t hire myself out and get off women who pay me for my services.”
“I want to study you.”
“Great. Pick up a history book. Greek mythology. Literature.”
Kris snorted. “You’re comparing yourself to a Greek god?”
He pointed to his pipes. “Hello? The instrument should’ve been a dead giveaway, dear!”
Kris rolled her eyes. “Now I’ve heard everything. You really think you’re Zeus’s gift to women, don’t you?”
“If you just want the sounds I make, listen to recordings—I’m not the only pan flutist. I highly recommend Douglas Bishop or Kevin Budd. There’s a Dutch chick named Noortje van Middelkoop who is fantastic.” He snapped his fingers. “Like rock music? There’s a Canadian band called Rush—pick up a copy of The Temples of Syrinx.”
Kris held up her hands. “This is getting too weird, even for me, and I’ve heard a lot in my business. I don’t want to tape record your music—I want to record your voice…with you saying…some very provocative things. But it’s not to turn me on or get me off, and it’s not to instigate a group fuckfest for my patients.”
He cocked his head. “Then what are you suggesting?”
“If you’ll just listen, I’m telling you what I want!”
“Do you wish to seduce me, or do you want it the other way around? You’ve done the unthinkable, you’ve confused me, but I’m ready for you, so hit me with your best shot.”
Bracing her feet apart, she planted her fisted hands on her hips. “I doubt you could handle a woman strong enough to take you on. I bet I could shake you down to the tip of your boots.”
His jaw dropped and he stared at her. He backed up and slammed his hand on his head. “Ah…ah, I have to get back to the session.”
She couldn’t help the little chuckle that bubbled up. Got you, Pan Arcadia! “Are you man enough to give up control to a woman? Or can you only get it up when someone falls at your feet in worship?”
“Well, you certainly didn’t worship me the first time we were together!”
“You sound wounded. Slithering away from a challenge, are you?”
His eyes narrowed and a flash of red coloured his cheeks. “Baby, did you just call me a coward?” When she answered him with silence, his lips thinned to an astonished grin. “You’re on, lady. Meet me back here after the final segment.” Then, with hands still plastered to his head, he disappeared back inside the shower recess.
Kris heard the water turned on. When she looked through the glass enclosure, she saw Pan naked, leaning forwards, thrusting his forehead directly into the nozzle’s path.
“You just showered, mate!” She listened intently, waiting for his reply. When none came, she frowned. Weird.
With a shrug, she pulled open the door and left the dressing room. Oh yeah, she’d be back…because this guy needed to be taught a lesson.
She ignored the thought that there was more to her desire to see him than teaching him that he couldn’t manipulate women. Just as she refused to acknowledge that he made her feel more alive than she’d been in a long while.
When she reached the top of the stairs, she looked up to find Iris waving at her from across the crowded mall. Kris tried hiding her disappointment. Great. She probably knows I’ve been backstage and wants an introduction to the marvellous luuuv doctor.
Kris sighed and waved back, forcing a smile as Iris rushed to greet her.
“I really need your help!” Iris’s voice shook with emotion.
Kris opened her mouth to protest when she noticed the tears in Iris’s crystal blue eyes. Immediately concerned, Kris set aside her judgemental attitudes. Could women truly react this strongly to a man they’d never met? To an idol or icon who couldn’t possibly have anything in common with them?
Then she silently scolded herself. Hadn’t she just been guilty of the same sort of emotion, that of wanton lust for a man who simultaneously made her wish to fuck him and kick his ass?
“Let’s go over here.” Kris pointed to a secluded walkway that led to one of the shopping centre’s bath essentials shops. Her mind tumbled with possible lead-ins for conversation that might help Iris overcome her fixation on Pan.
“I know what you must be feeling,” Kris began.
Iris stopped abruptly and leaned against a wall outside of Bath, Body & Beauty Boutique. “You do? You’ve seen the gold flickering light as well?”
Kris frowned. “No…” Well…she thought back. Briefly. She’d seen a glimpse, a quick flash of gold when she and Pan had felt the sting of mosquitoes in his dressing room.
/> “Then you don’t know what I’m feeling.” Iris glanced around warily then seemed to gravitate absent-mindedly towards a body wash display. “Let’s go inside. I want to sample their new soap.” She turned to face Kris. “I’m seeing things, okay? I’m seeing flashes of gold light when it’s not dark, when it’s too bright in the room to see such things. I’m feeling stung as if I’ve sat on a bee.”
When Kris could do nothing but stare at her, perplexed, Iris continued. “Something bit me on the ass!” Iris told Kris to hold out her hand and pumped a sample of the expensive body soap into Kris’s upturned palm.
“I just bought a tube of this.” She dug into her handbag and pulled out the plastic bag stamped with the shop’s logo, setting it on the counter in front of her. “Amazing what you can do with liquid soap.” Kris bit back a giggle as she wiped her hands with a tissue. Iris was serious—she was imagining things and knew she was. “Look, why don’t you make an appointment to come in tomorrow morning?”
Iris shook her head. “I can’t. I have a stupid bedroom suite display to do before I leave work.” She pointed towards a wing of the mall several yards from Pan’s stage. “Down there, in front of the biggest department store here. Mall management isn’t too pleased that I’ll be staying late—they’ve had to put on a new man to walk me out to my car once I’m done. This particular mall only has security that works outside the building.” She picked up a large bottle of the soap and headed for the cashier.
“So…you didn’t pull me aside because you want to meet Pan?” Kris followed, still confused.
“What? No!” Iris shook her head vehemently as the clerk rang up her purchase. “I have enough on my plate with the new man in my life.”
New man? Kris’s interest and alarm were piqued. Before she could question Iris further, however, thunderous applause broke from the crowd as Pan resumed control from the stage.
“We’d better hurry, or we’ll miss him.” Iris grabbed her body wash and motioned for Kris to do the same. “Don’t forget your purchase.”