Utter Cupidity

by Toni L. Meilleur

  “Would you consider having sex with me?” he asked. “I have about—” he actually had the audacity to pause and look at his watch, “—two hours to spare.” He looked at her with a hopeful expression. “I would really like to take advantage of the experience while I can,” he offered by way of explanation.

  Brea couldn’t have been more disgusted. Why? She had reasons: for one, her alarms were so overworked she was finally going to heed them. She needed to get away from him. There was no way she was going to get back into that car with him. He was a rude, ex-wife-obsessed pervert with no regard to her feelings. It was like last night had never happened. Like the Jordan from last night was a completely different guy. She looked at him and wondered how he could have charmed her so. How could she have slept with this guy last night? Gorgeousness aside, he was one crazy asshole, and she needed to get away as fast as she could and nurse her hurt feelings. Brea took her vow again. No more men in her life. No more hurt.

  “No, but thank you. I’ll just walk home.” Without waiting for an answer, Brea began the long walk home. Minutes later, with much grinding, she heard the car take off and speed in the other direction. It was a long walk home, but then again, she had a lot of things to sort out. It was time for a new plan when dealing with matters of the heart.

  Thirteen: Recon

  Cupid lost track of time as he waited for someone, anyone, to open the door. He had visited insanity as he thought about Brea. He wanted to be with her, kiss her, talk to her. How long had he been in this damn closet anyway? The bolts dug into his back as he tried to get comfortable around them. As soon as he was out he was going straight to Brea to tell her everything. Okay, maybe not, she’d put his balls on a plate and microwave them after she called the asylum to pick him up. What would he say anyway? Hi, I’m Cupid and I’m only dating you to keep my immortality? Cupid shook his head in disgust. What the hell was the matter with him anyway? The last time he fell for a mortal didn’t turn out so well.

  The lock on the door turned, causing Cupid to jump. He scrambled to his feet, determined to see who had the balls to lock him up. Whoever it was, was going to pay. As he exited the closet, silence and an empty room greeted him. He grunted in frustration. He had to see Brea. Needed to see her. Cupid flexed his wings and shook them to prepare for a rapid and rough flight.

  “Is he gone?” Psyche asked in a bored voice.

  “Yes, he looks pissed though,” Eris responded as she and Psyche shimmered into the empty weapons room, still a little leery. Eris turned to Psyche. “You came back in plenty of time. Good girl. You didn’t do anything to tip her off did you?”

  “Oh please.” Psyche strutted past Eris, still enjoying her very male, very Cupid body. “I was the epitome of perfection, not a hair out of place. Loved that car after I figured out how to work it, even took it for a long spin. How long do I have left to enjoy this visage?”

  “Look, my little dodo bird, it’s best you get out of that as soon as possible. You don’t want to run into a god and then all of this would have been for nothing,” Eris chastised.

  “You’re probably right. Oh, Eris, I experienced the most wonderful physical pleasure as a man. You know, I think I know why men do such stupid things to lay a woman.” Psyche idly stroked herself. “I had no idea you gave me working parts,” she murmured.

  Eris rolled her eyes into her head. Why did she always deal with nuts? Of course the nuts were the only ones who required her service, it was a bittersweet romance. “Of course I gave you working parts. I told you it was some of my best work. I wanted you to be fully functional in case screwing the little mortal was a necessity to keep up appearances.” Eris finger combed her long jet-black hair, peering at Psyche sideways. “So how long do I have to wait for details?”

  “You mean you weren’t watching?” Psyche sounded hurt.

  “No, darling. I had to make sure your ex-husband here didn’t find a way out.”

  “How pissed was he?” Psyche asked with that maniacal gleam in her eye.

  “Pissed enough that I will do everything in my power to make sure he never learns it was me who shoved him in there. Besides, if Daddy found out I stole his key, no telling what he’d do to me.” Eris studied her black nails then looked Psyche pointedly in the eye. “Details.” Psyche squealed, crossing the room in two powerful strides. Somehow, when this was over, she would have to convince Eris to turn her into a man again.

  Psyche leaned in close, whispering the day’s shenanigans in Eris’s very attentive ears, when a reflection near one of Zeus’s favorite portraits caught her eye. She whispered frantically in Eris’s ear. Within moments Eris disappeared, only to reappear before the painting with a glass container. Before the object of her attention could react, Eris had it shut into the specially made glass container. “Look, Psyche, we got ourselves a spy here,” she called over her shoulder. Eris and Psyche looked impishly into the glass container at Arachne.

  Cupid pounded on the door for the third time before Lindie threw it open, irritated.

  “Look, I was trying to be nice by not answering the door, but you wouldn’t go away. Now you’re forcing me to be rude, and I don’t like being rude, but I like even less what you did to my best friend. So here it is: Get the hell away from this door!” She tried to slam the door in his face, but Cupid was much quicker and prevented the door from closing, using one strong arm.

  “Excuse me? What did I do to Brea?”

  “Oh don’t act all innocent, though I must say you act rather well,” Lindie observed. “You’re an asshole, go away.” She tried again to shove the door closed, but Cupid prevented it. A nasty knot was forming in his chest, and he knew things somehow had gone to shit.

  “Could you just tell Brea I’m here?” he pleaded, trying to capture Lindie’s gaze with his own. He knew the girl had a tiny crush on him and he hoped it would work to his advantage.

  “Who do you think told me to tell you to go away?” Lindie challenged. “Look, you’ve done enough, the least you could do now is just give us the damn paintings so I can take her home.” Lindie blew out an exasperated breath.

  “We’re going home anyway. Whether we get those paintings or not.” Brea’s voice floated past Lindie, then she was there, in all her beautiful glory. Brea nodded for Lindie to go away. Lindie eyed him one more time before she found her way to the back of the cottage. Brea leaned against the doorframe pinning him with an accusatory stare. “What do you want now?”

  “Now?” Cupid knew he sounded like a parrot, but something definitely wasn’t right here. “Brea, what’s going on?”

  “Oh I don’t know, Jordan. Maybe you’d like to tell me a little bit more about how you still have the hots for your ex-wife. Perhaps you’d like to ask for one more romp in the hay before I leave, all the while whispering in my ear, that this thing we have isn’t going anywhere while you’re fucking me into next week.” Brea’s voice had turned to pure stone. “I’m a smart girl, Jordan, and I catch on quickly. I fell for another asshole’s ploy to get me into bed. I can’t even fathom why you’re here.”

  “I wanted to see you.” Cupid answered. Rage began to fester at the unseen force driving him apart from Brea. “Can we go for a drive—?”

  “No, it took me an hour and a half to make it back from the last drive you took me for. Though I must say it did me a lot of good mentally. I got a lot of stuff straightened out here.” Brea pointed to her head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m in the middle of packing to get the hell out of Ashe Bay.” She stared at Cupid and waited for him to release the door before she slammed it shut. Something inside of him broke. Shattered. A wrenching in his chest, an almost-fatal blow that seemed to have been struck from the inside consumed him. As he stared at the door, he knew there was no way in hell she was ever getting away from him.

  Brea slid down the door until her bottom came in contact with the warm wooden floor. Tears that had threatened to fall since the walk home finally made good and slowly descended to her cheeks. Why wa
s she crying over this asshole? And what was wrong with her, that now all of a sudden she wanted him? When she saw him standing there, her spirit jumped for joy, and her body seemed to remember him on sight, as her cunt grew hot and tingled at the sight of him. His blue eyes seemed sincere now, not the almost wicked light they seemed to have had earlier. Did he regret what he’d done to her? Brea almost ran after him, thinking that maybe a second chance was in order. She, however, stayed rooted to the spot as the hot tears followed the path of the ones before them. She was being stupid, he’d hurt her. Deliberately, that was the word. He’d been deliberately cruel.

  Lindie came in and silently sat and pulled her into her arms until Brea’s head nestled in the crook of her neck. Brea turned her body into Lindie’s in an almost fetal position as she cried. They’d done this before—when Terry had hurt her. Brea couldn’t understand what made men want to hurt women—hurt her. Why did Jordan affect her so deeply when she had known him but a few days? Desperation? Loneliness? She’d opened her heart, only to have it stamped, folded, stapled and shoved ruthlessly back into her chest. But it was like she’d said to Jordan; she caught on quickly, for pain was an effective teacher.

  Cupid howled in agony at the wind as he flew to nowhere in particular. His huge white wings beat violently as he soared higher and higher bellowing in rage. Someone had hurt Brea, and they’d been using his face. Psyche didn’t have that kind of power but there were many gods who did. It could be any number of them. Cupid didn’t exactly get along with everyone, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to try. There were few he trusted and counted as friends. Arachne was one of them, but she hadn’t answered any of his summonses. That was unlike her, and he worried that she too had been the victim of some kind of foul play.

  He did a flip in the air, trying to expend the energy from the rage that had built inside of him. She was leaving and right now he was powerless to do anything about it. She was going back to the city, where there were many places she could hide—but not from him. He would have to find a way to ingratiate himself to her again—and this time it would be even harder. What could he possibly do to get her back in his arms? To get her to trust him again? Unfortunately, something took precedence over getting her back. He had to find out who was behind his undoing. For all of this would be for nothing if that someone kept usurping his efforts to win her. Right now he knew he needed to give her space and time. The two things in the world he didn’t want to give her. He wanted her next to him, under him, riding him. He wanted Brea spending her time with him.

  The only thing he could do right now was apologize. It didn’t matter if he was the cause of it or not. She believed him to be and there was no disputing it. A small plan began to form, crowding out the intense anger. There was something he could do for her. There was a way for him to apologize and it also would create an opportunity for him to get back into her life. First things first, he had to find the soon-to-be corpse who was behind this.

  Fourteen: As tough as nails

  Lindie had driven home while Brea sat amongst the junk in the back seat, balled up. Not one word was spoken the whole ride back. A Carrie Underwood CD played on a loop. This was not the type of trip Brea had in mind when she took it. She thought this trip back would be full of relief and joy and getting rid of Mr. Forbright. Instead it brought her a fresh brand spanking new heartache, because the first one didn’t kill her.

  The days went by and Brea decided to go about her life as if she had never heard nor slept with anyone named Jordan Areson. Lindie was being quite a doll not mentioning it either. She fielded all calls from Mr. Forbright, telling him his paintings were on their way. It was the last phone call that got Brea to conversing with Lindie again.

  “What was that about?” Brea asked from behind her desk.

  “He says his wife is gushing about the cottage. He told me to thank you for a job well done.” Lindie shrugged her shoulders in confusion.

  “But I never…” Brea furrowed her brow.

  “I don’t know, Brea, he says everything was how he pictured it. He says he recommended you to a friend.”

  “Oh great.” Brea rolled her eyes. “Another old fart bastard trying to impress his wife who’s probably not much older than his granddaughter.”

  “We could use the clientele, Brea,” Lindie said softly. “Maybe having something to do will get your mind off, er, uhm…stuff,” she finished lamely.

  “Whatever, want to go to lunch? I’m starving.” Brea stood, grabbing her purse off the hook on the wall behind her chair.

  “You buying?” Lindie was already putting her jacket on.

  “As if you ever bought me lunch.” Brea laughed. “I’m sure we could use it as a write-off.”

  Lindie was the first one to the door. “Can we go to that new—” her words faltered and stopped altogether when she opened the door. Brea was searching for her car keys in her desk drawer, distracted.

  “Sure, just give me a moment,” she muttered, slamming the drawer shut and pulling out the other one. Brea smiled in triumph. “Got them, now where are we going?”

  “Any place you want. Lunch is on me, ladies.”

  Brea could feel the air hitch in her lungs. Brea believed for the first time she was actually choking on air. She looked up to see Lindie standing with the door open, completely immobile. And there in the doorway, dressed in a light leather jacket and dark jeans with his perfect, beautiful hair pulled back in a ponytail, stood Jordan.

  “We could make this a business lunch. Mr. Forbright recommended you for my new project.” He flashed her that megawatt smile that she had been trying to delete from her brain the last few days.

  “We’re not going anywhere with you,” Brea said coldly. “Lindie, shut the door, you’re letting the trash blow in.” Lindie looked confused.

  Exasperated by Lindie’s ineffectual door slamming, Brea came around the desk, shoved Lindie out of the way and began to push the door closed, despite the fact that Jordan still stood there. She didn’t care that she met the resistance of his body, she just shoved the door harder. Jordan slapped a palm to the door to prevent her from shoving at him any further.

  “I was hoping we could talk,” he said stiffly.

  “I was hoping you would drop off the face of the earth, but look, you’re standing right here so what’s your point?” Brea put her weight behind the door as she continued to push.

  “You do realize you owe me,” he said nonchalantly, as if he weren’t standing there, trying to prevent his face from being slammed into the door.

  “I owe you nothing.” Brea was breathing a little heavier now from her die-hard efforts. “Lindie, get over here and help me!” she snapped at her friend, who stood looking at the situation with a expression between mortification and humor.

  “You aren’t just a tad bit curious as to how Mr. Forbright got his paintings?” he baited her.

  Brea paused. Okay, she was planning to think about that later. She allowed herself to look into his gorgeous blue eyes and hated herself for still drowning in their devilish depths. “Let me guess, out of guilt you decided to do me a favor. Well, when you do a person a favor, Mr. Areson, you don’t come to their door telling them that they owe you.” Brea let go of the door and made her way to her desk and plopped down since it was obvious he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “You’re partly right. I gave him the paintings on your behalf out of guilt. I hung them as a favor.” He stepped into the office, closing the door behind him. Lindie’s mouth hung open as she watched the two of them, her head swinging from side to side as if she were watching a tennis match.

  “I didn’t ask you to.” Brea rolled her eyes, ignoring the way her body was reacting to him.

  “Well, you didn’t refuse either,” he quipped.

  “Because I didn’t know.” Brea shook her head.

  “Well, despite that, my statement still stands true. Now, I did come here for business. You do run a business here, correct?”

  Brea said nothing;
she just sat there struggling to holding her tongue and not give him a piece of her mind. Maybe if she were unresponsive he’d leave her alone.

  “Great, I love an attentive audience. May I sit here?” he asked Brea, indicating the seat in front of her desk reserved for clients. Brea just pursed her lips tighter together. He sat down anyway.

  “I just acquired a condo here and I would like for you to furnish it.” His vivid blue eyes caught hers in his gaze.

  “I’m not interested.” Brea stood. “But thank you for stopping by.”

  Jordan reached into his jacket and pulled out a check already filled out. He pushed it across her desk and leaned back watching her. “If it’s not enough let me know. I have no problem adding more zeros.”

  Brea glanced down and her mouth fell open. She picked it up just to make sure she was seeing what she thought she saw. Lindie, seeing her expression, ran around and peered over Brea’s shoulder. They shared the same expression. Lindie’s cell phone rang and she quickly answered, drifting over to her desk for a little privacy.

  “I see I have your attention,” he said arrogantly.

  “I didn’t say I would take the job.” Brea quirked up an eyebrow.

  “Yet you are holding on to my check for dear life.”

  “A girl’s gotta eat.” Brea gave him a smile full of arsenic. “When do I start? And, oh, I would like to reiterate this is strictly a business arrangement.” She widened her grin.

  “You start now, over lunch. I will tell you what I want.” At the last sentence his eyes dropped down and appraised her body. Brea’s cheeks flushed and she became angry with herself for it. She had to keep in mind that he was the enemy.

  Lindie, who was always one to be counted on for a free meal, begged their forgiveness as soon as they got outside the office. It seemed she’d forgotten a very important errand. Brea fumed inwardly, intending to rip a new hole into her when she saw her later. As she went for her car, Jordan cleared his throat rather loudly.