Sons of Zeus: Risky Business

by Amanda McIntyre

  "I want to stay with you," he whispered finally, touching her shoulder with a gentle kiss.

  By all in heaven and earth, she wanted that more than anything. The fact was she wanted to never let him go. But how absurd was that? They didn’t even know each other. Well, not in any other sense.

  "I'm not sure that's wise, just yet." She pressed on, the excuse flowing from her like water from a faucet. "Aren't you happy with what we have right now? There's no attachments, no strings, no commitments?"

  Eros steeled himself against the sting of her words. Two days ago, hell, a few hours ago, he not only would have agreed with her, but probably said the same words himself.

  But he couldn't. Not now. Guilty conscience had nothing to do with it. The mere thought of her with another man after him caused his stomach to churn. And the idea of having only this weekend to remember the rest of his life was something he didn’t want to think about.

  Eros turned her off his lap and onto the bed. He wanted to make love to her again, not yet satisfied with thoughts of leaving her just yet and return to the emptiness of his lonely penthouse.

  "Where is your bathroom?" Eros needed perhaps to walk away for a few moments to clear his thoughts, gain a clearer perspective. Maybe he would see things differently if he separated from her physically.

  If you walk straight ahead, you'll walk right in. The light is on your left."

  Eros stood pushing away the eerie sense of loneliness teasing his soul. He reached out, feeling for the light switch.

  "Our agreement," she stated. "Perhaps you should close the door first?"

  He shut his eyes to the odd pain in his heart. Why would she want more than what she'd originally offered? Did he think his presence; his passion could be enough for a woman of her stature? Bright, successful, even passionate, yes. At least he could chalk that much up to his string of less-than-stellar relationships—he'd been the one to help the famous Dr Rainbo, author, and counselor of relationships, discover her passionate side.

  Eros washed his hands, his lips thinning with a quiet sigh of defeat. Formerly fraught with cocky ideas, he was reduced to thinking of something far more disturbing, not to mention, more of a challenge. His quest now had nothing to do with his mother's wishes, blackmail, or even the success or failure of his business. His dilemma was how to hang onto Psychedelic Rainbo, but part of that included the realization that all she wanted was a weekend frolic and nothing more. Besides, if she were to find out who he was, she'd likely bounce him out of her life with her morning garbage.

  He snapped off the light, bringing a warm washcloth with him. If nothing else, he could show her he was a considerate lover. Eros tucked himself back into bed and leaned over to kiss her. She met him part way, a shy tenderness that fast became hunger.

  Eros pressed closer, "Let me care for you," he whispered as he stroked the warm cloth between her legs. The truth of his words embedded in the back of his brain as her breath hitched just for a moment before she relaxed against his care. A strong protectiveness welled inside him, her surrender had touched something deep inside. She lifted her leg over his thigh and he was once again lost in her innocence.

  He pressed her back against the bed, leaning over her in the dark, wishing he could see her face, the creamy pale skin, so familiar now to his fingers. "Do you trust me?" He needed to know for some insane reason. Eros swallowed against his desire growing more fervent by the moment. He would comply with what ever she wanted, whatever pace she wanted, even if were to kill him to do so.

  "I do." She reached up and cupped his face.

  He leaned down to kiss her, enjoying the soft intimacy of the kiss, discovering how wonderful, how titillating and passionate emotions could play into a relationship with another person.

  "You amaze me with your depth. I can't get enough of you." Eros considered the handcuffs, the teasing tickler rose, but none satisfied the need to taste every inch of her. He gently tugged her from the bed, pulling her body against his, standing for a moment, relishing in how they fit so well together.

  "Tell me where the chocolate body powder is," he whispered as he kissed her forehead.

  She left his arms briefly, and returned, placing the container in his hands without a word. Had he expected any? Wasn't she here to experiment with her sexuality? Eros had to reel in his fast unraveling emotions for this woman.

  He dipped his finger in the fragrant powder and held it near her mouth. "Taste."

  Her delicate hands held his as she eased his finger between her lips, her tongue darting to lick the fine powder from his flesh.

  "Umm…"

  The sound of seductive approval in her throat came unexpectedly and Eros nearly dropped the container as her mouth sucked delicately on his finger.

  He swallowed, hanging on to his control by a thread. How could she get him hard with such a simple gesture? Yet, there was great freedom in knowing the feelings he had were more than just wanting to have sex with her. He wanted to make love to her, slow and passionate, driving them both to a frenzied need.

  Eros pulled back his hand, gently twisting the feather duster in the powder, starting playfully with her nose, then her chin, stopping long enough to satisfy himself with her mouth. He forced himself to continue dusting her neck, and then the valley between her breasts, following each with a trail of wet kisses that began to drive him near the edge. He suckled on each pert tip, drawing her nipples between his teeth, taunting both of them to madness. She gripped his shoulders, her breath drawing in with short pants.

  He delighted in the soft warmth of her stomach, dropping to his knees in front of her as he worshipped her with his kisses. She was like an invisible goddess, this woman of flesh and blood, yet he could not see her, only touch her, and hear her sighs.

  Eros turned her, sinking his teeth into the delicate softness of her buttocks, teasing her with the feather duster, making her wonder where he was going to kiss her next.

  By now, he could have taken her with ease, one stroke between her legs and she edged toward the bed.

  "Not yet," he whispered easing her onto the tangled sheets.

  On his knees he faced her, sensing her face close to his. He leaned forward and placed a warm kiss on her mouth, relishing in the moment when she grasped his face and tugged him against her.

  His heart pounded fierce in his chest as he gently pulled from her. "Lie back."

  The quiet creak of the bed signaled she'd complied, making him all the more rigid and ready to bury himself inside her, but not before he gave her this one pleasure.

  Eros nudged open her knees, and twirled the powder on her inner thigh, lapping up the chocolate residue as he followed the progression to her womanhood.

  "You aren't going to—" She gasped in a strangled whisper, her fingers lighting on the top of his head.

  He grinned as he leaned forward and licked at the sweet chocolate now mixed with her honey wetness.

  "Omigod."

  He discarded the container and eased his hands beneath her thighs adjusting her to accommodate his enjoyment. Her hips moved with him, and he sensed her torment was great as she bucked against him with each entry of his tongue inside her velvet opening.

  Her passionate cry split the silence and he was grateful the cabin was secluded.

  She went limp beneath his hands and Eros smiled. Yet another first for Ms. Rainbo, if his suspicions were correct.

  "You want to give it a try on me, later?" Eros knelt on the bed over her shadowed form. He knelt down, kissed the back of her neck, and whispered near her ear.

  "Aren't you the least bit tired?" She spoke softly, but he caught the humor in her voice. She was teasing him!

  His rock hard erection brushed her skin as he turned her to her stomach.

  "Dawn is a long ways off, Psyche and I plan to use the time wisely." He lifted her backside, bringing her to her knees, as he kissed the delicate curve of her back.

  Chapter Nine

  Psyche awoke, squinting against the bright
light of the sun streaming across her face. Her body though physically spent from the night, felt deliciously satiated. If only her heart felt the same. She turned her head, grabbing the pillow next to her and buried her face in its cotton fibers, relieved to find a whiff of his cologne still lingering there. Her mind floated to the memory of his gentle hands, teaching her, instructing her in things she'd only read about, never experienced. It was fabulous!

  She hugged the pillow to her breasts and realized in an instant that this was all just a game for him. She'd offered him her body, her home, everything and without any expectations in return. The only thing she hadn't offered him freely yet was her heart. And that she intended to keep hidden at all costs, fearful that by being too open, he would leave her again.

  Psyche pushed from the bed, stripping off the sheets with abandon, delightfully aware that she was naked and that she didn’t care. Her body felt rejuvenated, alert and more than ready for the day, despite her lack of sleep. Her mind flitted briefly to him, her ghostly lover, wondering about his thoughts of the night.

  After a quick shower, Psyche dressed, started a load of laundry and sat at her dining room table, staring with new eyes at a brilliant patch of grass in her backyard. She'd made a few entry observations in her daily journal, but her mind kept wandering to the night before, reliving the sensations with delighted sighs. She knew it was a grave mistake to attribute anything more to the midnight tryst, but that couldn't stop her heart from wanting more, if not with him, then with someone special.

  Psyche wondered if he would return tonight. A shiver chased over her flesh as she remembered his quiet voice guiding her as she explored every inch of his tight, muscular body with the chocolate powder brush. She took a sip of her morning tea and grinned. If her sisters could see her now. She'd never had so much power over a man before and to feel him grow hard beneath her very hand, to hear him groan with pleasure because of her, and bring him to a crashing climax left her with a sense of puffed-up pride. Yet in the same breath, she cautioned that even though their chemistry seemed to blend spectacularly, that by no means meant that anything could ever come of it.

  It was not the sex that bore so deeply into her heart, it was the way he held her, his arms embracing her with strength and security, or so she convinced herself at the time. She'd not heard him leave as was their agreement, but he must have stayed until she fell asleep.

  A knock on the door jarred Psyche from her reverie. Her heart pounded as she reached for the lock. She knew it was silly to think he'd come back—

  Psyche checked her hair in the hallway mirror brandishing her best smile as she swung open the door. She could not see who the bearer of the enormous vase of long-stemmed roses was.

  "From your friend," came a muffled reply. "You are Dr. Rainbo, right?"

  "Yes." Psyche lifted the flowers from his grasp. She immediately recognized him from the main lodge. The urge to ask him what the man looked like teetered dangerously close to the edge of Psyches tongue, but she pulled in her curiosity, realizing she didn’t really want to be able to identify anyone she might later come in contact with.

  "Who did you say these were from?" She asked instead, inhaling the heady fragrance of the partly opened blooms.

  "The gentleman who was here last night. Descent guy for a busi—"

  Psyche held up her hand. "That's okay, I know who you mean. Here, let me get you a tip." She placed the vase on the table in the foyer.

  "Oh, no need. He already did, and quite well I might add. You sure got yourself a classy boyfriend, Dr, Rainbo." The young man grinned.

  Psyche started to explain he wasn't her boyfriend, but turned instead with a smile." Well, thank you for delivering these."

  "No problem. Oh, hey—" He pulled a white envelope from his back jeans pocket. "I didn't want this to blow away."

  He held it out to Psyche.

  "The wind's really come up the past hour. Supposed to have some humdinger storms around here tonight if you got anything that needs anchoring down."

  Psyche turned the envelope in her hand, anxious to read its content in private.

  "You got a generator?" The young man adjusted his ball cap over his unruly blond hair.

  Psyche recalled something about storms, but she was more focused on the envelope and the man behind the flower delivery. "I have plenty of candles."

  "Good thing. You might just need them if the lightening gets bad. The slightest crack and the electricity goes off. It's awfully touchy up here on the ridge."

  Psyche nodded, easing the door between them. She itched to rip open the envelope. "Thanks for the warning."

  He grinned, glanced around, and brushed his finger over the bill of his cap. "I'm around, if you need anything."

  "Thanks." As soon as she shut the door, Psyche slit open the envelope. Admonishing herself to slow down or she might miss his words. Indeed, they were from her mystery lover, she could almost hear the quiet gentle tone in her ear.

  "Take these rose petals and sprinkle them over your bed linens tonight. Until then, I will remember the sweet scent of your skin, more precious than these roses."

  Psyche leaned against the door, holding the card to her chest. How would she be able to walk away from him after this weekend? The thought struck her that perhaps she wouldn’t have to. She glanced again at the poetic gesture of words. Maybe she wasn't imagining his sincerity at all. Maybe the gods of romance and passion had sent her a dream lover that intended to stay?

  * * *

  Clean sheets, duly sprinkled with rose petals and an hour, long soak in a bubble bath lent itself to only heightened the anticipation Psyche felt about his arrival. She waited by the front window, watching as angry black storm clouds rolled over the mountaintops. Bits of debris danced across her frontyard, and her wind chimes clattered without their usual delicate song in the strong breeze. She checked her watch, and eyed the weather as she picked at her supper, but her mind was neither on food or the impending storm. She was counting the minutes until sundown.

  * * *

  Eros had spent the better part of the morning just staring out the window of his penthouse living room, all but willing the sun to drop from the sky. He'd considered what might happen if he went to her in the daylight, on the pretext of another matter just to garner her true reaction of him. Second and also third thoughts prevented such an idiotic notion however, as he realized he was unable to face any type of rejection from her, at least not yet. He would need to tell her, of course and he intended to—eventually. If there ever was a time when he wished he had a different job, a different name, it was now.

  The phone jangled him from his thoughts.

  "Hello mother. I see you're checking up on me." Eros rubbed his finger across his eye. Perhaps he should sneak in a quick nap before heading to Psyche's cabin tonight.

  "Of course not, my darling. You are certainly competent when it comes to women and I'm even more certain you won't disappoint me. It is going well for you then?"

  Eros grinned. She'd never change and to some degree at least he knew what to expect.

  "It's going fine, thank you."

  "Ah, well good, now listen. I need a little favor from you. It won't take up a great deal of your time."

  Eros glanced at his watch and again checked the sun outside the window. It was almost four-thirty.

  "Of course, you know I wouldn't bother you on the weekend unless it was a dire emergency."

  "Dire" in his mother's vernacular could mean anything from the collapse of one of the stores to a hang-nail.

  "What is it?" He leaned his head back against the couch.

  "I need you to take the Lear and meet with our new client in Reno. She already knows you're coming and on a tight schedule. I just need her signature on a few papers to seal our deal. It shouldn’t take more than two to three hours, there and back."

  Eros chewed nervously on the corner of his lip. "You realize that I am to meet with Ms. Rainbo this evening? Have you decided then that she no l
onger represents as much of a threat to our business as you once thought?" Part of him begged her to say yes, hoping then he might have a snowballs chance in he—

  "Absolutely not! She remains a vicious threat to everything we represent. She must be stopped and I know I can count on you to ruin her, right, Erostatle?"

  His brow twitched, sensing a desperate undertone that he wasn't sure of in his mother's voice.

  "Of course."

  "Good. Now the pilot's waiting on the airstrip, the limo is downstairs by now. If you hurry, you'll be back before sunset."

  "You are sure this is vital?" Eros stood checking his wallet for cash and credit cards as he always did before any trip.

  "I wouldn't ask Eros—"

  "Yeah, so you said."

  "You aren't forming any attachments to this horrid woman who is fast becoming a thorn in my side, are you? Did you see the editorial in this morning's paper? Granted, while I admit she is pretty, I guess, her personality has got to resemble the bad side of a washrag."

  Eros bit his tongue wanting to correct his mother's misguided accusations. She was nothing like the Plain Jane that Aphrodite thought she was.

  "I'll drop the papers at the office on Sunday afternoon."

  "Splendid, Eros. Oh thank you darling boy. You've saved me a great amount of concern. Have a safe flight and a fun weekend."

  Her perky attitude made him leery. "Right mother."

  * * *

  Aphrodite glanced up from the phone and met the glittering gaze of Stewart. "You've made the necessary arrangements?"

  He nodded with gusto, his moustache twitching with excitement.

  "Good work, Stewart." Aphrodite hit the playback button on her computer studying the image of her son's pleasant expression as he left Psyche's cabin this morning. That was not the face of a man who'd done his business and was prepared to move on. Aphrodite narrowed her gaze, enlarging the picture for better scrutiny.

  No indeed, that was the look of a happy man and if she was to hazard a guess, the look of a man in love.