Sons of Zeus: Risky Business
Page 2
"I'll go check the grill." Psyche slipped out the back door, glass in hand. For a moment she breathed deep, catching her emotional bearings. This three-season back porch had officially been her father's private retreat from the rest of the world. He joked that he often felt like Atlas and when the weight of the world became too much for his shoulders, he'd disappear for a few hours. Right now, that’s exactly what Psyche wanted to do. She scanned the bookshelves he'd built long ago, filled with his collection of books on nature and mythology. A few older issues of 'Playboy' lay tucked among the stack of daily newspapers. I respectfully disagree, we have a small library on our three seasons porch. I just needed to define better the type of porch. See if this works.
Psyche eased into the wicker chair gazing out over the darkening twilight. Placing her wine on the table beside the creaking old rocker, she picked up one of the men's magazines and glanced at its cover. The curvaceous woman on front lay nude in a field of flowers, daisies strewn strategically to hide her well-endowed features. The headline across the top read in bold red print, "What Women Want; is it Only Natural?"
Curious, she thumbed through until she found the article. While she was interested in reading about the topic, she was drawn more to the photo of the man being interviewed. His face was tan, his jaw firm, chiseled as though sculpted from stone. Psyche swallowed as she gazed at the picture. He was beyond handsome and she speculated that behind the dark glasses he wore was a set of eyes that could undress a woman in a glance. There seemed an aristocratic air to the picture, sensual, but a man who definitely knew the meaning of getting the most for his buck.
She squirmed in her seat, surprised at how her body reacted to the picture. Psyche reached out tentatively and without fully realizing it, touched the image of his dark hair, cut short except on top where it lay in touchable ebony ringlets. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and Psyche ran her tongue over her lips, her breath catching in her chest. Though she'd never wholly given herself to a man before, the thought of the sensation of his mouth on hers caused her body to shiver in a tingled rush.
Psyche blinked several times, pulled from her sensual trance with a curious frown. She didn’t even know who this guy was, much less why he should have such an effect on her.
Swallowing again, she focused on the article, oddly aware of his photo staring at her, almost in challenge. She was determined to find out more about him.
"You'll go blind if you read that too close, sis." Alicia's voice issued from the doorway.
Psyche nearly jumped from her skin, so immersed in the article on adult toys, that she hadn’t heard her sister sneak up behind her.
"A little light reading before dinner?"
Alicia plucked the magazine from Psyche's hands and glanced at the picture.
"This guy is hot. They say he's the next in line for Aphrodite's Pleasure's. Major hunk with major bucks." Alicia wiggled her eyebrows, handing the magazine back to Psyche. "I didn’t know you were into sex toys, big sister." Alicia perched on the edge of the worn leather ottoman.
Psyche flipped the book closed and tossed it aside, but the mysterious man's image floated in her mind. "I'm not. I was reading to educate myself." She picked up her wine, taking a healthy swallow to quell her parched throat.
"Well, if you have any questions, let me know." Alicia sipped on her wine, her eyes sparkling with mischief over the rim.
Psyche's wine sputtered across the room as she blurted, "You?"
She could hardly conceive of her baby sister and Roberto, using blindfolds and handcuffs.
Her sister shrugged. "Nothing like serious bondage, so don't worry. But let me tell you, there are some wonderful play toys out there." She scrunched her shoulders and a sly grin spread over her face. "And some work with or without a partner." Her sparkling blue eyes widened with glee.
"That’s too much information," Psyche uttered. She wanted more than what technology had to offer. She wanted romance, emotion, and passion. Was that so much to ask?
Alicia shrugged as she glanced at the magazine. "He's a hottie though, don't you think?"
"Who?" Psyche pretended not to notice though her fingers itched to remove those Ray Bans and see what passion lay in his eyes.
"Erostotle Windgate. You know, you may have issues when it comes to sex, big sister, but adult toys are a huge business. Could a billion satisfied customers be wrong?"
"That’s Erostotle Windgate?" Psyche searched her memory. In her research of intelligent women's magazines, she remembered seeing provocative ads for Aphrodite's Pleasures. She had to wonder what family holidays must be like in the Windgate house.
"Ah, then you have noticed a few interesting males out there in the real world."
Psyche glanced at her sister with a smile on her lips. "Very funny. If you recall, I wrote the book on the subject."
"True, but how, I'll never know." Alicia tugged at her bra strap realizing with a frown that it was actually inside out. She giggled as she reached under her shirt in order to remedy the problem.
"Errand, huh?" Psyche couldn’t refrain from commenting.
Alicia smiled, unashamed as she lifted her boobs into the rigid cups of her push-up bra.
"If you were married to a guy like Roberto, would you say, “Not now honey, we have steaks going on the grill soon?"” Alicia laughed tipping back her glass of wine. "Good god he's hot, and I don’t say that just because he's my husband." She pointed the stem of her empty glass at Psyche.
She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. What would it be like to have someone worship your body and love your spirit?
"Look, I'm not dissing your book, sis. It's sure to help lots of women who are stuck in a rut of finding the wrong guy. But you sometimes need to take a risk, jump out there into the unknown and see what you can find, or what finds you. Not everything can be determined by psychology.
Alicia tapped Psyche's nose with the tip of her rose-colored fingernail. She grinned as she stood. "I'm going to find my husband and let him know that I bought a new thong today."
Psyche cast a gaze heavenward.
She sat for a moment after Alicia left, thinking of her sister's admonition. Was she a prude? She was as beautiful as both of her sisters, yet men didn't approach her as easily as her sisters. Why? Was it that they knew she was afraid to take risks?
Psyche picked up the magazine, opened it to the interview with Erostotle Windagate and carefully tore out the page. She swore that she saw a hint of a smile behind those dark glasses.
Chapter Two
Veronica slept peacefully, tangled in the soft, silk sheets of his bed. Eros grinned as he thought of how to word the ultimate success of the test run on the body icing. Even with all his experience, he hadn't realized just how many nerve endings the human body had when licked. He'd have to find a way to explain in such a way as to keep Veronica's name from too much publicity. He had her reputation as bank president to be sensitive about, in accordance to the agreement they'd made in their latest loan contract, anyway.
Still, Eros was very careful. There was always the video he'd filmed in secret, just in case she decided to back out on her part of the deal.
Tomorrows meeting and his mother's concern about Psyche Rainbo pushed him from the bed. He trotted first to the refrigerator where he guzzled down orange juice from the jug. In the glow of the dim light, he noted the remains of chocolate glaze painted across his abdomen. He toyed with whether to leave it for Veronica as a midnight snack, but instead grabbed a towel, wetting it slightly before wiping his stomach.
He sat down at his computer, booting up the screen, and watched as the eerie blue glow spread across his desk. Outside the rain fell soft and steady. "Let's see what you are up to, Ms. Psyche," he murmured to himself as he placed her name in the search engine.
Eros squinted as the images on the screen appeared.
AP Photos of a speaker at some type of women's rally set in Detroit, showed a well-dressed woman standing at the podium, waving to the cr
owd below. Her face was hidden by the brim of her hat, so he wasn't able to discern her features. She wore a conservative suit. Good figure from what he could tell from the box cut jacket. He clicked on another link, and there the same woman stood speaking to a luncheon, wearing the same wide-brimmed hat. What was the deal with this woman? Was her face disfigured? He clicked another link, and again she wore another hat. The most he could determine was that she had a mouth, a nice smile granted, and wore extremely conservative clothes.
And this was who his mother was so concerned about? Eros leaned back in the chair, his fingers steepled in front of him as he propped his elbows on the armrests. She certainly looked harmless enough. His mother's concern however, was what was being publicized about her book on relationships.
Eros scanned the page and found what he was looking for. He clicked the "read an excerpt" link. The idea of getting Ms. Prim and Proper, Psychedelic Rainbo, renowned relationship counselor alone for even five minutes caused a challenging twitch in his groin. The spasm surprised him, and he glanced down at his anatomy that already had a reputation of its own throughout much of the city.
Though her name implied a retro sneak peek at a time when the explosion of sex on society hit the mainstream marketplace, her image screamed she was everything in a woman that he was not interested in. Even remotely.
Which wasn't the point, Eros reminded himself silently. It was what danger this woman posed to the company, or if in fact, she posed any danger at all. He couldn’t gather any concrete information from any of the photos. She kept her face hidden from the public, and something about that intrigued Eros. He was used to making sure his face was out there in the market place and he tried to back up his public image as much as his energy would allow in private.
Yet how could a woman so conservative and mysteriously hidden in public write a book about relationships? She'd have to be at least seasoned in some regard, wouldn’t she?
He reached out, tapping at the keyboard, calling up her book on a popular bookseller website.
"Baby, are you going to make me sleep alone?" Veronica's sultry voice whispered near his ear. Her warm lips closed over the tip of his ear, her teeth gently nipping his flesh. He'd been so plugged into trying to see more of Ms. Rainbo's physical attributes that he hadn't heard Veronica sneak up behind him.
"I'll be in momentarily. Just a little research for anew project." Eros glanced over his shoulder, catching Veronica's cocked eyebrow as she studied the screen.
"Business baby, nothing more. Why don't you come over here and sit on my lap while I finish."
With a slow grin, she dropped his dress shirt to the floor. Eros kissed her satiny, smooth back as she nestled her bottom on his lap.
"There we go. That’s better, isn't it?" Eros scanned the excerpt of Ms. Rainbo's book, hoping to gain some insight to his mother's concerns.
"What can we say about a society that cares only about immediate gratification? Where is the commitment? The longevity of relationships takes time and effort and rarely do the one-nightstands lead to anything other than gratification."
His hands cupped Veronica breasts from behind, his thumbs grazing her soft tips, bringing them to a stiff arousal. She was warm and smelled of musky sex. As his hands gave her pleasure, Eros scanned the article, multi-tasking with practiced ease.
He considered how many one-nightstands he'd had. Hundreds probably, in his thirty-two years.
Veronica let go of a throaty moan as his fingers pressed expertly between her legs. She spread her knees apart, resting her toes on the tops of his feet.
His attention was drawn back to the screen and he kissed Veronica's shoulder, one hand kneading her breast, while with the other hand, he slipped two fingers into her already seeping heat. He leaned around her to continue to read.
'Everyone seeks passion in their relationships. Pleasure is not only for the beautiful people. The ordinary everyday woman wants passion seeks passion, and sensuality just as much."
Lost in her ecstasy, Veronica's delicate hands clamped down on his forearms. Her warm flesh rubbed against his penis, stirring it yet again to life.
"Oh god, yesss" her sultry sigh combined with the slight movement of her hips urged his fingers deeper, finding her G-spot.
"A woman, while she may claim indifference to the need for commitment, really wants more if she is true to herself. But our society doesn't promote romance anymore. It promotes only sex, apart from any real emotional attachments."
Veronica tossed her head back, her dark mane spilling over his face. Eros turned his head, sputtering out the strands of hair caught against his lips. Veronica's cry of utter fulfillment echoed loud in the cavernous warehouse turned private penthouse.
"Oh baby, you have the magic touch." She turned and whispered against his neck, offering a kiss to his cheek. "Let me do something wonderful to you," she purred, slowly grinding her backside against his arousal.
Something tugged at Eros mind, causing his libido to falter. "Go on back to bed. I'll be in shortly." He kissed her shoulder, patting her soft thigh.
She shifted in his lap, holding his face between her hands. If kisses showed the measure of passion in a woman, then Veronica was on the upper class of the scale. She picked up his shirt, purposely glancing up at him with a sultry gaze as she exposed her temptation to him.
Torn between his desire to drive into her lovely backside, or find out more about this Rainbo woman, he opted for the later, knowing that no matter what time he came back to bed, Veronica would be wet and waiting for him.
Semi-erect, Eros scooted his chair forward after she left. He drew his brows together quickly, scanning the rest of the excerpt and wondered what it was that his mother felt was such a threat to the company. They'd had crackpots go public before. What made this woman different?
* * *
"Sales are down and we have to find a way to deal with the disastrous trend happening out there right now." Aphrodite spoke as she sipped her ritual morning Bloody Mary.
The twenty members on the Board of Aphrodite's Pleasures glanced nervously at each other.
Obviously, Eros was the only one who'd done his homework last night. "Ms. Rainbo's speaking this Friday at the Seven Wonders Bookstore on Main. Some type of reading. Perhaps you could send one of your henchmen to scout things out mother?"
Aphrodite's dark eyes widened. Radiance not often captured these days, shone upon her face.
"That's a brilliant idea! You will attend this little get together and find out her weakness. We'll ruin her credibility. It's perfect!"
She lifted her glass, yanked the stalk of celery from the thick red liquid and slid it slow and sensuous between her glossy red lips, lapping up the tomato residue.
A throaty sound of pleasure emitted from her as she smiled.
Eros closed his eyes, massaging the pads of his fingers over his eyelids. He'd had very little sleep last night between his computer research of the frigid Ms. Rainbo and the insatiable Veronica.
"Can't you send someone else?" Eros slumped back in his high back leather chair. He glanced wearily at his mother. Her wide-tooth grin, looking very much like she'd swallowed a piano keyboard was all the answer he needed.
"My love, joy of my loins—"
"That’s an understatement," Eros muttered.
"My—what did you mumble?" She cooed as she teetered around the conference table victim to her too tight skirt and nine inch stilettos.
"Nothing, mother," Eros sighed, tacking on a smug smile.
"I want you to go because you are the best at what you do."
She cupped his cheeks between her hands; her curved fashion fingernails scraped his ears.
"I have raised you to shoot straight, Eros. When you draw back your bow and take aim, why honey, there is no way you won't make the mark. I just want you to imagine a big red bull's eye on Psychedelic Rainbo."
Eros brows rose. He doubted he would ever see her face if she wore that blasted wide-brim hat all the time.
His mother's pencil drawn brows slipped high on her pale forehead. "Besides, this is about us my darling. Our little empire is in a state of, well…peril."
"Peril? Isn't that a little over the top?"
Her gaze went blank, morphing into dark and unfeeling. It reminded him of a great white shark about to strike. Aphrodite's mouth firmed into a thin red line.
Eros sighed, not caring what the other board members thought. They were off the hook on this one and they knew it. A few snickered behind Aphrodite's back. They could go on back to their gossip around the water cooler and the quickies in the supply closet that gave them the gossip.
"Very well. I'll see what I can find out. I'll need to stay back some distance in case she would recognize me and suspect something." Eros reached out and snagged his mother's breakfast, swallowing the rest in one healthy gulp. "She'll be a bad memory by Saturday morning." He handed his mother the empty glass.
Aphrodite held up his glass with a raised brow and one of the balding board members knocked over his chair, scrambling to get up.
Eros figured that was who his mother referred to as Fido. As the man rushed out on his errand to retrieve another drink, Eros watched the transformation from beast to angel return to his beautiful mother's face.
Her passion inspired him. It always had. Not knowing, with any real certainty, (oh, they'd whittled it down to roughly three or four possibilities) who his father was secured even more the bond mother and son shared. When his Grandfather Zeus prepared to retire, he took his daughter-in-law under his wing, at that time he ran a business called Lightening Bolt. He nurtured her, groomed her into the savvy business woman she is today, channeling her natural abilities. Soon after Aphrodite's Pleasures opened it was slated for empire status.
Eros grinned as he shook his head. Grandpa had done his job. The woman had a remarkable power over men of divine proportion.