“Cut the shit, Enlil. We haven’t got time for that, and it’s your own fucking fault.” Candy flipped quickly, scissoring her leg over his, trapping it between the heat of her thighs. “You agreed to supper, and if we keep my mama waiting, there’ll be hell to pay.”
She let him go and slid away, glad to put some distance between them. She’d have to think long and hard on everything that had occurred with Enlil in the last twenty-four hours. She probably still hated his guts, but the man doled out fucking awesome orgasms. At least if she kept him around, she could scrap-heap her now out-classed vibrator. The only good thing about the shaft of silicone? It didn’t talk back.
Enlil exhaled in what sounded like frustration. “Yeah, and I hate hell,” he muttered, responding to the warning regarding her mother.
“So being a god, you’ve been there? Met the devil?” Candy couldn’t help but tease Enlil.
“The devil? Duh. Of course,” Enlil scoffed. “But he has nothing on my boss, King Nergal.”
“Really? Nergal? That complete, mushy love, and mouth-watering hunk? Hell, if he didn’t already have a queen…” Candy let that fantasy dwindle as Enlil continued.
“Lucifer is a pussy compared to Nergal, although now we know the king isn’t responsible for our thousands of years of torture, he can’t be cast in quite such a dark light.” Enlil shrugged. Candy commiserated. Long-held habits and opinions were hard to break.
“Tell me about it in the shower.” Candy hopped up out of bed, not uncomfortable in her nakedness. She padded barefoot into the adjoining room, and before she turned the water on, the wind outside briefly howled. She snickered. Enlil was a little more agitated than he wanted her to know. Exactly the way she wanted him.
By the time he made it to the bathroom, she stood behind the steamy glass doors. He slid one aside and stepped in to join her. Her eyes immediately riveted to his cock.
“Geezus, are you always hard?”
Enlil groaned. She’d already soaped up her hands in preparation, and looked greedily down at him, but clearly unable to get any words out of his throat, he managed a nod.
Good. She’d gladly take charge again. That’s where Candy felt most comfortable, although ceding control to Enlil had been a lot easier than she’d imagined.
Her hands surrounded his shaft, moving up and down, using the soap as lubricant. Enlil closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall of the enclosure, giving himself over to her, but she could tell he held himself in check. Time to fucking put an end to that. Candy paused in her ministrations.
“Where’s the bovine?” She insinuated herself forward and licked his chest, then latched her mouth onto one of his brown nipples and flicked it with her tongue. “I want him to come out and play.” Candy told Enlil. “He seems pretty straightforward, whereas you,” she nipped at a nub, “always seem to be thinking too much.”
Enlil moaned. “Candy. Please. Stop that unless you really want me to let him loose.” The wind god’s voice blew rough.
“I do.” Candy breathed, excited to see the bull in its entirety. “I want you to let him out. Completely.”
Enlil clearly tried hanging on to his good intentions, but she wriggled her hands up on him again, along with her mouth on his nipples, and small changes began to occur.
“What if he loses control,” Enlil ground out. “What if I…”
“He won’t hurt me,” Candy told him, assuredly. “From the little I’ve seen, I think he likes me,” she scoffed. “Probably better than you do.” She thought about it for another few seconds. “Besides, if he’s animal, he’s all instinct, and has no hidden agenda.” Let him try to argue with that.
Candy waited, biting the inside of her cheek. She was pretty sure Enlil’s previous lovers hadn’t wanted to see his alter ego, but Candy’s quiet permission seemed to rip the hard-fought restraint right out him.
“Move away,” he cried, and with a roar, Enlil morphed into his bull. Horns burst instantly from his skull and his skin darkened. His nose turned snout-like and his body thickened. Wow. What a sight to behold, but like she’d told Enlil, she wasn’t afraid.
“That’s it, bull-boy,” she whispered. “Let that animal hang out.”
He bent and sniffed at her neck, her ear, and the tender spot at her nape. His large flat tongue darted out but didn’t touch her. Oh, yes-sir-ree.
He swelled to even larger proportions and snorted, posturing arrogantly. God, he was so easy as a beast. Nothing to get in the way of his superiority. Candy almost envied him his wild nature.
A look of raw power passed over his animal-like face and he bawled. Enlil, as a full man, restrained himself, almost painfully at times, but his bull clearly had no such inhibitions. The noise of his beast rose loudly, and Candy felt certain the neighbors would wonder what creature had been let loose in the building. He roared again, and she loved every minute of it.
Candy vowed on the spot that she would forbid him to hold back if he felt the urge to morph. How could she have believed him completely happy before, when this bovine incarnation far surpassed the comfort he showed when in his god skin?
She perused his face closely as he slowly returned to himself. Enlil gradually lost his bovine features and calmed back to human…uh, god. His eyes dropped to his feet and they took on a cautious slant. Candy felt his withdrawal.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, struggling to find the door handle that would let him out of the shower. “I get butt ugly and…”
Candy slapped at his hand, and he actually jumped.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” she hissed, and grabbed his suddenly slack jaw between harsh fingers. “If you ever hide that side of you from me again, I’ll smack you until you have to bring him out just to protect yourself. Do I make myself clear?” She forced him to look her in the face. “I don’t know who ever told you your bull is a bad thing, but they were fucked up. Fucked. Up. You understand?”
Too big to shake, Candy wanted to get his complete attention. She lowered one hand and palmed his balls, just a tad aggressively. That had him listening.
“I like your bull, Enlil. Shit. I like him better than I like you.”
He scowled.
“You’re a complete asshole most of the time, and he’s just straight out who he is.” Candy had had it with Enlil and his shit. “I want you to promise me you won’t suppress your alter ego ever again.”
Now she released him and stood on tiptoes, sending her arms up and around his neck, pressing the entire length of her wet naked body to his. “Promise me, dickhead,” she said in a voice that suddenly purred soft and womanly. “Promise,” she whispered.
Enlil shook his head as if to clear it. His jaw dropped in shock. “Did you just call me a dickhead?”
“That’s it?” Candy slid away from him and slapped at his chest. “The sweet shit I said to you, and all you got was the word ‘dick.’ You are so fucking predictable.” Gods, she really did hate Enlil.
“No. I heard you.” The wind god got serious and eased her back against the shower wall. “But you have to understand. In the many years I’ve been alive, nobody has ever welcomed my bull, except in battle where he’s considered very useful. I’ve always regarded my inadvertent transformations as something of a curse.”
“A curse?” Candy turned in his arms and bent to get the soap, insinuating her rear into Enlil’s soft bits. “I have news for you raging bull. If you’ll stop being a prick and lighten up where we’re concerned, I plan to hold my own charreada, with you as the main attraction.” She wiggled her behind provocatively, hoping he understood that the word meant a very personal kind of rodeo. “And I’m going to be the sexiest charro who’s ever taken you for a ride.”
Candy was deadly serious. She really disliked Enlil, but something about his bull, and his vulnerability as a god, called to her. Shit. She should get her head examined. But how would she ever explain her fucked up problem to a shrink? They’d have her committed.
Enlil growled. “Dammit. N
ow I’m picturing you dressed only in a pair of split chaps and mounted on top of me rodeo style.”
Candy’s mouth ran dry at that visual, and she almost lost it as he grabbed her hips and increased his loin’s pressure against her bottom. Almost.
“Fine. I like that visual too, but cut the shit, Enlil. We have supper at my mother’s.” Candy stood up and grabbed a facecloth. “Here.” She slapped it at him over her shoulder. “Do my back.”
Enlil sighed, but did as she asked.
Twenty minutes later, they were out of the apartment and on their way down the street.
Candy’s nervousness asserted itself. Enlil had to meet Jovana.
They walked to her mother’s house on West Vernon Street, a house Candy purchased for her hard-working madre some years before when her government paychecks finally began reflecting her elevated status with the DEA. It was a two-mile jaunt, but Candy relished the chance to get out into the fresh air; no matter the sketchy neighborhoods they would traverse in the dark on their way home. Candy laughed at that. Between her and Enlil, they could handle any threat that came their way.
Her mother’s modest home nestled close to others like it on a busy street, but it kept Jovana close to the roots of the neighborhood where she’d grown up, and that’s what she wanted.
The house and yard were neat as a pin, and showed pride of ownership. The pink stucco announced itself boldly under the glare of the overhead lights from the used car lot across the street, but Jovana said she was mostly thankful for their intrusive glow after dark that kept her safe.
Candy and Enlil made their way up to the white painted door, and Enlil growled something about not caring for the bars he noticed covering the entryway and adjacent windows, but Candy shrugged. Surely he could see the efficacy of the adornment.
A key that Candy reached for in her pocket fit into the front lock and she propelled the door open.
“Estamos aqui, mama,” Candy called. “We’re here.”
“In the back, chiquita.” The voice Enlil recognized from the phone earlier, answered back.
Candy led him through a small, formal living room, and what? The upholstered furniture sat, brightly colored but covered in plastic. Enlil scratched his head, attempting to discern the purpose of the adornment. It looked highly uncomfortable. He’d never seen anything like it, but didn’t have time for questions as Candy strode through the space quickly. He was relieved to see the room behind the plastic-covered one, held a cozy den with a television and a couple of easy chairs not similarly draped.
They were clearly headed toward the glorious smells wafting through the house, and Enlil’s mouth watered. He hadn’t had anything to eat since emptying his stomach on the plane, except for a couple of power bars. He suddenly realized the depth of his hunger.
Candy’s mother had her back toward them as she stirred something delectable on the stove. When she turned, Enlil was taken aback. The woman before him looked no more than fifty, and was a stunning beauty. Huh. No secret where Candy received her good looks. The only thing Enlil couldn’t reconcile? How Shamash’s ugly ass genes could have been passed down to produce that much Latino loveliness.
He walked forward and lifted Jovana’s hand to his lips. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
She left her hand in his and studied him closely. Enlil held his breath, wondering at her verdict, and was not disappointed.
“Well, mi bebé.” Jovana looked from Enlil to Candy. “If you had to wait this long to take a man to your bed, I suppose this one was worth waiting for.”
Enlil hid a smile. A high compliment―he knew―from Candy’s mother, but one that had his bedmate sputtering. Enlil came to her rescue. “You judge your daughter too hastily, Mrs. Lane.” He gave the older woman’s hand a squeeze. “I assure you that even though I’ve shared your daughter’s sleeping quarters. She has yet to…trust me that far.”
Candy’s mother snorted. “Un discurso bonito…a pretty speech,” she translated for Enlil, extracting her digits and looking him up and down. “I’m not sure whether to believe you, Señor lengua de plata.”
Enlil figured he had that one at “Mr. Silver Tongue.”
“Or to call you a fool,” she snorted.
Enlil didn’t offer up anything more.
Jovana continued, undaunted. “He’s a tall one, Candy.” She turned her accusing gaze to Enlil. “You told me your patrimonio hailed from the Middle East.” Jovana didn’t wait for his comment, but turned back to check something in the oven. “All this…golden hair, with these…trenzas…” she waved a hand to indicate Enlil’s braids. “And your eyes, amber like a cat. This is not what I expected from a Middle Easterner.” Now she stood and waited for a response.
“My roots go way back.” Enlil wasn’t about to say how far back. “To a time when people were not all dark who lived in those regions. I’m a throwback to some of my ancestors.” That was true in a way. He took his coloring from the gods who were his parents.
“You are a handsome young man,” she allowed. “I just hope your corazón,” she put a hand to her chest, “is not overshadowed by an enormous ego.”
Enlil’s mouth twitched as he caught Candy’s rolling eyes. “Some have accused me of arrogance in the past, but I like to think I learn from my mistakes.”
“No matter.” Candy’s mother became businesslike, removing something wondrous from the oven. “The table is set. Go sit down and we’ll eat.”
“Can I help you with anything?” Enlil eyed the big pot on the stove and the little woman before him.
“Don’t think I am a weakling because I am small,” Jovana chastised. “Where do you think mi niña got her muscles, eh?” She deposited one dish on the table and turned to get the covered pan. “Sit now.” It was not a request.
Candy had been fairly silent up to this point, letting Enlil hold his own with her mother. He’d been doing a pretty good job, and Jovana had been amazingly nice to him.
Jovana put the pot on the table and lifted the cover. “Black bean stew,” she announced, letting the aroma waft into the air.
Enlil’s heart sank. It looked delectable but he had forgotten to let Candy in on an important fact. “It smells absolutely delicious,” he squirmed. “And it looks like you went to a lot of trouble.” He could see pieces of meat poking out amongst the black beans. He sighed. “So I really hate to tell you this. I’m a vegetarian.” Candy’s mouth fell open for a split second, before she obviously and totally got it.
“Of course, you are.” She marveled.
She couldn’t have forgotten the bull in her shower earlier. Of course, he wouldn’t eat meat. That would be…cannibalistic. Enlil enlightened her further.
“I do eat fish,” he assured. “And if I’m under the gun, I’ll pick at some chicken.” He looked apologetically at Jovana. “But I’m afraid pork, lamb, and,” he coughed uncomfortably, “beef are out of the question.”
“No problem.” Candy’s mother waved a hand, clearly unfazed, and he figured out why. As a cafeteria worker, the woman witnessed many allergies, religious edicts, and other things that controlled people’s diets. A vegetarian wouldn’t shake her.
Jovana quickly shifted the pot to the opposite side of the table from Enlil, and slid the sweet corn cakes, warm out of the oven to the forefront. “Start with these and I’ll heat up some quinoa and black beans I have left over in the refrigerator.”
“Please don’t go to any trouble,” Enlil took a spoonful of the corn cakes―under Candy’s tutelage―and the bright yellow confection melted on his tongue. Delectable.
“No trouble, gigante rubio del mija. Two minutes in the microwave is all it will take.” She waved a hand.
Enlil raised his eyebrows toward Candy, not getting the gist of her mother’s words this time.
“Hmm. Very proprietorial,” Candy whispered, clearly not sure whether to be vexed or amused. “She called you…my daughter’s blond giant.” Candy chose to roll with it. “I think it’s prett
y clear that, vegetarian or not, my mother likes you.”
Her words proved true during the balance of the meal.
Jovana teamed up with Enlil and they teased Candy, mercilessly. The good-natured poking devolved into albums full of naked baby pictures, where they both agreed that Candy’s pudgy bottom had not lost any of its appeal. The two eventually relented when they’d figured Candy had taken enough abuse.
Her face had gone sort of blank in the last few minutes. Maybe they’d teased too much. Or maybe it floored her how easily he’d cozied up to her mother.
True, he exhibited none of the aggressive, boorish behaviors he took on with Candy because, hell, Jovana was easy to talk to. He found her charming and approachable, something―he speculated―that Jovana probably didn’t aspire to with most people.
He just hoped it checked off a point in his favor with Candy.
Chapter Twelve
“Enough.” Ken Dunsky spit blood. Sweaty, bruised, and bloody, he gave in. “I concede. You guys have kicked my ass enough for today.” It didn’t sound like complaining, just absolute exhaustion.
Marduk, Anshar, and Dagon had taken their turns with the resident agent, pounding him into the mats, while Enten, Lahar, and Huxley cheered them on. The gods had been pleasantly surprised that Dunsky, though clearly outmatched, continued to get up and show backbone.
Marduk threw him a bottle of water. “You held your own,” he granted, giving Dunsky a nod. “You’ll perform even better tomorrow.”
The agent groaned. “Do you guys do this every day?”
He received a chorus of affirmatives.
“Shit. Even back in LA, we rotate between hand to hand and weapons practice.” Ken sent Marduk a speculative glance. “Hey. You guys don’t carry guns,” he stated something that had become obvious.
“You’re right.” Marduk took a long swig of his own beverage. “We prefer blades if we can’t take care of something with our bodies.”
Dunsky shook his head. “Not good enough. In this day and age, that will put you at a distinct disadvantage. I have an idea. How about tomorrow we set up some target practice, and I’ll get you guys familiar with handgun usage and safety.”
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