Haunting Hephaestus (Gods of Olympus Book 9)

by Annalise Nixon

  Vulcan was elbow deep in Reynaldo’s truck and as Destiny would say, in his happy place. He’d dropped a new engine in yesterday day, and today he’d replaced the alternator. Once he’d finally tracked one down. After making a few adjustments, the parts he’d put in should last until J.R.’s children give him grandchildren.

  The last two days and night spent with Destiny had been beautiful. He’d been happy with their lovemaking, yes, but being with her gave him more than sex. Being with her gave him a home. According to Cai and Leandro, contentment was a good look on Vulcan. They had no idea. A good look was waking up to find Destiny sprawled across his body like a blanket.

  Once she’d finally fallen asleep.

  Something haunted her during the day, and tormented her dreams at night. He tried to ignore the tired smiles and the extra concealer. And he’d even given her the space and time she needed to work things out on her own. If only she’d come to him, allow him to help.

  Like he had room to criticize.

  “Dammit.” He slung the socket wrench against the wall.

  “Maybe I should come back later.” Destiny stood at the door, her eyes wide, and body tense.

  “Come over here.” She wore a purple dress that looked like a shorter version of something straight out of the 1950’s, and she managed to look both sexy and adorable.

  Hungry to get his hands on her again, Vulcan opened his arms then glanced at the grease covering his skin and reconsidered. Thankfully, she didn’t have the same reservations. She unzipped his overalls, placed her hands against his clean-ish black T-shit and raised her mouth for a kiss.

  Yeah, he could get used to this.

  The kiss ended, and she swiped her thumb across his lips. “That’s not exactly your color.”

  “Maybe not on my mouth.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Why are you so nasty?”

  “Can’t help myself when you’re around.”

  She retrieved the wrench and handed it to him. “How was work?”

  “From the look of things when I arrived, a lot better than yours. Want some help?”

  “Just an uncooperative bolt. You know about cars?”

  “Not at all. I just offered to be nice.”

  “How about you just make yourself comfortable instead.” He motioned toward the truck with a jerk of his head. “Once I get this carburetor in, I’m all yours.”

  “Is the tool tossing a common thing while you work?” She hopped up on the dark gray stool next to where he worked. “Trying to figure out if I should wear a hard hat when I visit.”

  “Funny.” He zipped up his overalls and got back to work. After twenty minutes of tinkering, he stood and gave the simple engine one last glance. A soft clicking sound got his attention. “What are you doing?”

  Destiny wiggled her iPhone. “The view from here is magnificent. That’s a butt made for Instagram.” She looked down at her phone and shook her head. “Change of plans. This is all mine.”

  “Now I don’t feel so bad for the pictures I took while you were sleeping.”

  “You did not!”

  “Is this one of those times I’m supposed to tell the truth?” he asked, winking.

  “Let me see. If my hair is all crazy, that picture is getting deleted.”

  “Just kidding.” He closed the hood, then walked over the shop sink, removed his coveralls, and washed his hands. Getting grease on that dress would be a crime.

  He watched Destiny as she played with her phone. She didn’t take a lot of pictures of herself unless it was related to the gallery. According to Destiny, she wasn’t the story, the art was. Well, he disagreed.

  “I don’t have any pictures of you.” Vulcan dried his hands, paying special attention to his nails, and walked to his woman. “We need to fix that.”

  After settling in behind her, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket then kissed her neck. He snapped several pictures to capture her moment of bliss.

  “Let me see,” Destiny said, snatching the phone from his hand and swiping through the images. “These are perfect. Do you mind if I send them to myself?”

  “Go ahead. What do you want to do for dinner?” He rested his chin on her shoulder and watched as she decided which picture to send. After swiping left and right a few times, she decided to select them all.

  “I’m flexible.” She watched the blue bar move across the top of the screen then returned his phone.

  “We’ve both been on our feet all day. Why don’t you come upstairs and hang out while I shower? Then we can grab dinner and go to my place.”

  “I thought you lived here.” She looked around the garage.

  He shook his head. “No.” Had he really shared so little? And he wondered why she wouldn’t tell him anything. “I don’t always want to be so accessible to customers.”

  “Tell me you’re not selling drugs or stolen cars.”

  “No,” he chuckled, “nothing that mundane. Luckily for me, people’s cars break down a lot.”

  “Just checking. Tell me if I’m overstepping, but what else do you own around here?”

  He didn’t hesitate. The way the question was phrased, nothing he said would be an untruth. “The property where most of the pack live is mine, along with this shop, and now your gallery.”

  “Where is your home?”

  “You’ll see tonight. If you’re really good, I’ll give you a tour of my studio and forge.”

  “You have a forge?”

  “Yeah,” he said nodding. “The glass and sculpting is cool, but working with metals is my first love.”

  “Wow, my man is loaded.”

  “Funny,” he lifted her off the stool and kissed her forehead, “coming from the woman with a trust fund.”

  “I didn’t earn a trust fund, and I have to keep that for my golden years.”

  “Lucky for you, you have a flexible landlord who’s willing to give you a good deal.”

  “I know you’re joking, but we should probably sit down and work out terms.”

  “Even better, let’s negotiate upstairs in the shower.” With Destiny walking behind him, chatting about her day, he secured the doors and double-checked all the windows before setting the security system.

  “Are you hungry?” He opened the door that led to the apartment where he’d spent very little time since he and Destiny came down from the mountains.

  “Starved. What are you in the mood for?” She walked past him and up the stairs, giving him a new appreciation for the term junk in the trunk.

  “You really want the answer to that question?”

  She peeked over her shoulder and wiggled her perfect ass. Oh, it was like that? Vulcan growled, and she made the mistake of dashing up the narrow stairwell. The woman should know by now that he was all about the chase.

  The locked door put her right where he wanted: at his mercy.

  He pressed his hands against the door and nuzzled her neck. “Remind me to give you a key. Use it anytime, especially when you’re in the mood for a nooner.”

  “Giving me a key is moving pretty fast don’t you think?’

  “Why waste time?” He wanted to take her now, pull her panties off, and bury himself inside her. Instead, he buried his face in hair that managed to smell like baked sugar cookies. “I’m a man who knows what he wants.”

  “When you talk like that you make me feel—”

  “Desired? Cherished? Respected? Because I want you to feel all those things with me.”

  “Sometimes your words clash with the image I have of a jean-wearing, car-repairing modern man.”

  “Yeah? What do you imagine me wearing?”

  “A toga.” She put her hands on his waist and turned so their gazes met. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not just a toga, but covered with battle armor and swinging a sword. You’d totally look hot like that.”

  For a woman without magic, she saw him clearer than most—even clearer than the pack. “I don’t have a toga, but I can wrap a towel around my
waist.” He unlocked and pushed opened the door. “And about that sword, I’ll save that for after dinner.”

  Vulcan followed her inside and set the alarm for the door at the bottom of the stairs. “You good with burgers?”

  “Only if they come with onion rings.”

  “Game on, gorgeous.” He tossed his key in the bowl on the counter separating the dining area and the kitchen, then flipped through the mail. “Look around, make yourself at home. I put a few bottles of whites in the fridge. There should be something in there you like.”

  “You did?” she asked.

  “Well, yeah. I figured you’d come over eventually.” He leaned against the counter and scratched the back of his neck.

  “Go shower. You’re standing there,” she waved her hand, “looking like a snack. We may not leave.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “I don’t know. Those burgers are sounding pretty good.”

  “Brat.”

  He pulled off his T-shirt and wiped his chest. Call him vain, but it pleased him that her eyes grew hungry for more than food when she saw him shirtless.

  “Tease.” She poked her tongue out at him.

  He laughed and headed back to his bedroom. When he bought the garage back in the fifties, he did something almost unthinkable in those days. He had the building razed and built to his specifications, which included an upstairs apartment.

  It was half the size of the garage, which made it just shy of 1500 square feet of creature comforts, including two large bedrooms with en suite bathrooms, a half bath for guests, and an office.

  He walked through his simple bedroom, and like at the cabin, wondered how Destiny saw his home. He quickly undressed and hopped in the shower so he could hurry and feed his woman. His woman. The words sounded foreign to him. And right.

  “Room for one more?”

  Destiny stood on the other side of the glass shower wall, naked. “I thought you were hungry.”

  “I am,” she said, walking into the large shower stall. “Let’s just say you’re higher up on the menu than a burger.”

  “How about a pizza?”

  “Don’t push it, pal.” She grabbed the loofah, squeezed bath wash on it, and began washing his chest.

  “This is nice.” Vulcan ran the back of his fingers down her wet arm, suddenly fascinated and jealous of the beads of water trailing down her skin.

  She looked around the shower at the black and white subway tiles and multiple showerheads and nodded. “It is.”

  He cupped her breast, trailing his thumb just beneath her large, dark areoles, eliciting a shaky laugh. “I’m talking about the shower.”

  “I’m not. But if it tempts you to return sooner,” he said, shrugging and making a mental note to buy another loofah, “then I’m game.”

  “Be careful what you ask for. You may get sick of me.”

  “How does one get sick of something when they’ve waited an eternity for it?”

  “Vulcan, I’m really going to need you to stop being so sweet.”

  “Seeing that you’re about the only person with that opinion, I’m pretty sure that’s the one thing I don’t have to worry about.”

  “I’m willing to bet you’re wrong. The people you consider friends know you have their backs.”

  “Know that I have yours too.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Whenever you’re ready to tell me what’s keeping you awake at night, I’m here.”

  “I know.” She dropped the loofah and squeezed soap into her hands. “The same goes for you.”

  “I’m working on that.”

  “As am I.” She washed him until his hardness filled her hands. “Now, I’m going to need you to show me what you have that’s better than a burger.”

  Chapter 23

  Destiny stared into the eyes of the most maddening man she’d ever encountered and wished they could be like this forever. Most new couples had to find their way—she got that. This wasn’t her first rodeo. But even with the couple of issues they’d had, Vulcan made her feel safe. That meant everything to her. She wasn’t even going to lie—sex was the cherry on top of the Vulcan sundae.

  Ignoring the problems and secrets between them wouldn’t help. The unexamined would fester then burst at the most inopportune time. And all the secrets weren’t his.

  “What’s going through that big beautiful brain of yours?” he asked her.

  “Us.” She stroked his beautiful erection with one hand, and slid the other up his wet stomach, the soft dark hair tickling her palms. The man was sexy clothed, but standing beneath the spray, water streaming down his body was almost too much. “These last few weeks have been incredible.”

  Fine lines appeared at the corner of his eyes, and she knew questions would quickly follow. So she ripped a page from his book and decided to distract him—and herself— the best way she knew how. She lowered herself to her knees.

  “What are you doing?” His breath quickened.

  She stroked his thick erection and cupped his heavy balls. His sharp inhalation drowned the ping of water against the tiles.

  “You’re a smart boy,” she said, trailing her thumb over the head, and she felt all kinds of powerful when he pressed a hand against the wall. “Figure it out.”

  She took him in her mouth, sucking hard and deep, as she knew he preferred. For the life of her, she could never figure out why some of her friends loved giving blowjobs. Oh, she’d done it, and didn’t even mind, but it had never aroused her—not like this.

  With Vulcan, she initially thought it was the power, the sense of control. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Looking up into the harsh lines of his face as he gently thrust his hips, she realized it was about him and his pleasure. And that was okay. For the more she gave, the greater her own arousal.

  Water dampened her face. His thrusts grew more aggressive, but not past the point of her comfort. When it came to sex, he was always aware of her pleasure, her discomfort, and even her emotions. From the first time they’d made love, he’d owned her body, but she had tried to keep her heart in check.

  She’d failed.

  “You mouth feels so fucking good.” He gripped her hair and quickened his thrusts. With his perfectly ripped stomach and narrow waist, he looked as though he should be on the cover of a magazine.

  But damn it, he was hers.

  “Stop.”

  She sucked one last time then released him from her mouth. “Is something wrong?”

  Vulcan shut off the water then hauled her ass to the bedroom.

  “Wait, shouldn’t we dry off? The bed is going to get—” He tossed her in the center of the bed. Alrighty. When the man wanted something, he didn’t waste time.

  That whole alpha caveman thing was kind of hot, especially as she watched him sheath himself with latex. He crawled toward her, and she backed up, but not quickly enough. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her down flat on her back.

  “This is what I needed.” He pressed his forehead to hers and groaned as he slid inside her. “Fuck.”

  As she stared into Vulcan’s eyes, she finally had to admit it—she loved him. Forget the pretty flowery words. She would slay a dragon for this fierce man. And each time he did something considerate, said something sweet, it felt as though it wasn’t meant for her.

  But right now, looking into those eyes, she could pretend that it was her that he loved, she who made his heart whole. He adjusted his hips so each stroke stimulated and pushed her closer to the edge.

  Closing her eyes would be the best protection against the inevitable—an onslaught of images and love so intense it was painful. The choice was no longer hers, because the orgasm hit her like a punch to the solar plexus, and when he joined her a few strokes later, it happened again, only this time she dreamed with her eyes wide open. It was as if Destiny shared her body, her consciousness, her own memories with someone else, and that someone also loved Vulcan.

  He kissed Destiny tenderly, and
every moment of the life that wasn’t hers played out in technicolor.

  “I’ll be right back,” he whispered before slipping out of bed.

  The images slowed, and she saw and felt the emotions of the woman that wasn’t her. If Destiny thought she was falling in love with Vulcan, it was nothing compared to the depth of the other woman’s feelings. In her mind, Destiny saw Vulcan and the other woman living somewhere beautiful and tropical. And despite their rendezvous remaining forbidden, the two of them were happy.

  Destiny rolled onto her side and curled up in a ball, but it didn’t help. Vulcan cared about Destiny, she believed that, but he remained distant.

  She squeezed her eyes closed, and once again saw Vulcan, stared at his handsome tanned face, studied his perfect lips as they moved closer and whispered, “Amina…”

  As a kid, Destiny had fallen out of a tree and broken her arm. That had been a mere splinter compared to the agony ripping through her as she watched Vulcan give his heart to another. He appeared open, honest, and so in love with Amina it hurt Destiny to see it. A jagged hole ripped open in her heart, exposing all her imperfections.

  Destiny opened her eyes hoping it would pause the jacked-up highlights of someone else’s life filled with the kind of passion that inspired sonnets. It didn’t work.

  The water came on in the bathroom. Despite not knowing how she’d face him, she hoped Vulcan’s return to bed and her arms would make it all go away.

  Was this a day-mare?

  In the pristine paradise of Destiny’s vision, Vulcan and Amina swam in aqua-colored water with sunlight sparkling off the small waves like diamonds. Once they tired of swimming, they made love on the soft warm sands. It all seemed so real that Destiny even smelled the salt water and felt its spray against her face.

  It was all beautiful and so perfect. Until it wasn’t.

  Another pain rendered Destiny helpless. But this agony wasn’t hers, it was the other woman’s. The one Vulcan truly loved—Amina.

  And Amina loved Vulcan right back. Destiny felt like she was stuck watching a movie as images of Vulcan and Amina planning a life together played in her mind. Amina’s entire world encompassed a small village. Leaving meant death if the relationship with Vulcan failed. Yet she loved him enough that she planned to walk away from everything she knew.