Sunburn (19 page)

As she’d said, so simply yet so eloquently, he needed her. And he needed her with a force that floored him.

In the ensuing day holed up in his suite, Apollo couldn’t say exactly how many times he loved her. All he knew was it proved to be a pulse-racing interval of time. She’d recovered completely from the stabbing, and they couldn’t take their hands off each other. Their passion was already the greatest heat he’d ever experienced, but everything was hotter with the knowledge they loved each other.

And that Hades might appear at any time.

In a bizarre way, he relished the idea of that confrontation. Couldn’t wait for it, as much as he dreaded it.

Patience was calm. Calm in a way he didn’t like or understand. Each time he asked her to discuss her feelings, she merely smiled and asked him to kiss her again.

Of course, he couldn’t refuse. He couldn’t stop kissing her.

Several hours after the malodorous departure of the demon, Apollo was reeling from yet another of his intense lovemaking sessions with Patience. She’d taken him in her lovely mouth and had branded him yet again with her particular scent and the touch of her skin. Waves of exquisite joy had poured through him, making him want her even more. When his cum had happily poured out of him into her welcoming mouth, he’d felt such gratitude and such unending desire. He was covered in sweat, drenched in her delicious, womanly fluids, and thrilled to be so.

They’d showered together, gently swabbing at each other’s bodies with soapy sponges, until the touches became more urgent. In short moments, he was taking her up against the cold glass tiles again. She was moaning in his ears again, uttering his name again. First as a guttural shout, next as a reverent whisper.

And he loved her so much he didn’t know where to look.

“Do you have some lotion?” she asked as she finally stumbled back into his suite. “We’ve been in that shower so long I think I’m officially a prune.”

“Just in that drawer,” he replied, indicating his bedside table. “Use as much as you want, my love.”

As Apollo turned off the tap in the shower, he turned his head to look at Patience. She was sitting on the edge of his bed, glorious in her nudity. She’d retrieved the cocoa-butter lotion and was bent at the waist, smoothing some on her shapely calf.

Apollo stared, in awe of her beauty.

The lotion absorbed into her still-wet skin, leaving a sheen on her pretty leg. Oblivious to his gaze, she continued with her other leg. As she bent, there was an adorable roll in her lovely, full stomach. The sight made him hard again. Gods, he adored that stomach, had kissed and licked it a thousand times already. She continued slathering on the lotion, rubbing her hands together and then rubbing it into her thighs. As she did, her breasts jiggled so beautifully he had trouble catching his breath.

She truly was a Rubenesque stunner. A goddess. She belonged in a painting. In the stars. She deserved a fucking constellation.

She looked up and smiled. His heart and his cock leaped. “Would you do my back for me?”

He strode over, so eager to touch her his hands were numb from the tension. “I’ll do anything for you.” He sat next to her on the bed, and took the lotion bottle. Her fingertip glided against his, not easing any of the strain on his hungry digits. He fought the urge to throw her on the bed and fuck her until she begged for sweet release. “Lie down for me.”

Her eyes darkened with what could only be fresh desire, as astounding as it seemed. They changed from their luscious caramel color to a mysterious, honeyed brown. Patience darted a ravenous look at his engorged cock and licked her lips. She then rolled over onto her stomach, that belly that made him dream, made him want to beg.

He poured some of the lotion into his hands and then smoothed his hands up and down her soft back, traveling with an aching slowness over her rib cage and shoulder blades. He massaged her muscles until she was sighing and his dick was ready to explode. By the time his fingers were digging into her quivering ass cheeks, she was already crying out for him. She quickly got on all fours and nudged him with her ass.

“Apollo, please,” she implored. “I need you again.”

Without wasting a nanosecond, he climbed behind her, enjoying the sensation as his legs made contact with her smooth body. He straddled her legs, leaned over her, and teased her opening from behind. Only for a moment. He couldn’t stand to toy with her, or to be teased himself, for anything more than a fraction of time.

He needed to be joined to her.

“Oh, please,” she cried. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Not stopping to even catch a bracing breath, Apollo plunged into her wet pussy. Her succulent inner muscles clutched at him, clenched onto him, making him mad. Patience ground against him as he pumped into her like a machine, soaking him in. As she milked him, she buried her face in the sheets, stifling her crazed moans. He changed positions, leaning further over her, covering her body with his. He grasped at her breasts from behind, held her close, and altered the speed of his thrusts.

Slowly, oh so slowly.

Three thrusts. That was all it took at this new pace and Patience was screaming into the bed covers. As she came, her body grasping his, he reached his own life-altering climax. Ecstasy ripped through his core, seizing hold of his sex, brain, and heart. He clung to her, knowing he would cling to her with the same insane force if Hades showed up.

As their bodies steadied, Patience slid off his member and turned so they could hold each other face to face. Her eyes were wild and moist, and her lip trembled.

“Agapi mou,”
he began.

“I can’t ever be without you, Apollo. Not ever.”

He gazed into her eyes, into her soul. “You will never be without me.”

* * * *

That evening, Artemis joined them for dinner in the buffet. It was Italian night, and the buffet table was laden with golden-fried calamari, pasta done to perfection, and cream sauces that made Patience’s mouth water. Artemis picked at her grilled seafood salad, and then Patience went to the buffet to heap a second serving of baked ziti onto her plate.

Dammit. She’d come in as a chubby girl. She’d go out as a chubby girl.

And besides, Apollo didn’t mind. God bless him, if God could bless him. He kept telling her how sexy her body was and seemed pleased to see her eat. Far be it from her to disappoint him.

And yet, tonight he was disappointed, on edge. Apollo and Artemis had this secret method of communication and it was driving her batty. The goddess would blink at him, her dark eyes flashing, and he would respond with pointed looks. He would then make a comment, as if for Patience’s benefit. At least he didn’t want to leave her out of the conversation.

But Artemis was persistent. Her eyes took on more of a silvery cast each time she blinked them in his direction, and Patience could tell she was growing more annoyed. At one point, their secretive dialogue got more heated and they forgot themselves, breaking into audible conversation.

“We need to take this fight to Hades,” Artemis insisted. She scratched her back as if searching for one of her arrows.

“He would just love that,” Apollo retorted. “On his turf, we might as well be powerless. No, that bastard can come to me. Let him sweat it out.”

“We need to catch him off guard,” his sister retorted.

“Are you judging my methods? I’ve been a warrior for millennia!”

“Last I checked,” Artemis replied icily, “being a warrior didn’t involve quite so much time frolicking in bed.” The goddess let out a huff. “Zeus is nowhere to be found, Apollo. We’re on our own here. We need a better plan.”

They continued arguing, and Patience took a moment to escape to the pasta table. She stared at the delicious entrees in front of her, suddenly without an appetite, and felt so guilty. Now Apollo was fighting with his sister because of her.

There was a deep male voice somewhere over her right shoulder. “I suggest the penne arrabiata. Spicy as all hell, but it’s as tasty as you look.”

Patience started at the voice. Its penetrating timbre shook her, even though the man hadn’t spoken loudly. And even though there was something in his tone that made her afraid, very afraid, there was a sensual, velvety caress in his voice too. As if he’d reached under her skirt, put his hand into her underwear, and fingered her right there at the macaroni station.

She turned, somehow already knowing what she’d see. And before she could fully turn around, Apollo and Artemis were already there, thrusting her behind them.

“Get away from her, you sick fucker,” Apollo said, his voice so quiet it was more of a threat than if he’d shouted it, “or I’ll take your perverted head off.”

Patience looked over Apollo’s shoulder at the man and gasped. She didn’t catch her breath so much because it was Hades, Lord of the Underworld, but because with his looks, he could only be Hades, Lord of the Underworld. For one thing, he was the only man at the tropical resort wearing a full three-piece suit. He was pale, which was odd, because her other Olympic acquaintances oozed healthiness and light. His short, black hair was slicked back, and he wore it with such panache he looked as if he frequented the salon of a Hollywood stylist. His lips were such an unusual color of pink, almost red, as if he’d been biting them … or biting someone else. However, it was Hades’ eyes that stood out. They were blue, but had nothing of Apollo’s scintillating warmth. Hades’ eyes were so pale and cold. The eyes of a wild husky who’d been tearing through a snowy, unforgiving terrain. Patience got the sense he’d been everywhere, seen everything, and despised every moment of it.

He smiled at Patience, and she felt enveloped by a cold, invasive wind.

“Now, now, Apollo,” Hades crowed. “Is that any way to greet your uncle? And why does everyone think I’m perverted? Do I judge you because of your job?” He angled his head toward Artemis. “Do I snap at Artemis simply because she chooses to waste her time with the most boring nymphs on Olympus rather than finding a man to please?”

Artemis’ expression didn’t change, but Patience saw the slight line of tension at the base of the goddess’ neck. “I don’t need a man.”

Hades rolled his frosty eyes and grinned. “So you’ve been saying for eons. If you’re going to spend all your time with those tiresome nymphs, at least give us all a sexy, lesbian three-way to watch.”

Artemis looked ready to kill, until an elderly lady tourist squeezed between them and proceeded to help herself to a mountainous serving of fettuccine Alfredo. They all stood there, awkward and silent, as the woman mounded her plate as high as a death-row inmate on his last meal. She finally toddled off, giving Apollo a saucy wink.

“So,” Hades began, “you summoned me, Apollo. The last person who did that is still hanging in chains in hell, having his liver eaten out.”

Apollo snickered. “I think that’s been done before. Not a single original bone in your body, is there?”

This time, Hades bristled. “You think it’s easy maintaining order in that place? Thanatos gets to pop outside here and there, Kevorkian-style, while I’m charged with keeping the souls in line. It isn’t exactly easy coming up with new punishments for the damned. I suppose you think swanning about in the sun, fucking every female in sight is original?”

Apollo reddened and looked ready to strike his uncle. Patience stepped in. “Okay, that’s enough trash talk. We’re all big kids here.”

Apollo stepped back in front of her. “Don’t even try to engage him, Patience. He has no soul.”

Hades’ pink lips formed a perfect O. “I am offended.” He turned to Patience. “I hear you’ve been causing a bit of trouble for my demon, Miss O’Connor. Tell me, do you always arrive at your appointments so late? Tardiness is extremely impolite. But if you come with me now, I’m willing to forgive and forget.” He grinned. “Your room in Hades is all set up. No towel animals like you get here at Helios, but, oh well.”

Apollo’s eyes burned a virulent gold. “You. Don’t. Get. Her.”

Hades made a show of pretending to think about it, with his hand on his pale chin. “Hmm. I think I do.” He reached for Patience’s arm.

Apollo reacted, as hot and unpredictable as a raging fire. His movements laced with fury, he wrenched Hades’ hand from Patience’s arm. “Touch her again, and I incinerate you.”

For the first time since arriving, the god of the dead looked mildly put out. “See all these happy tourists, eating and drinking, with not a care in the world? Apollo, if you stand in my way, I will destroy all of them. With infinite pleasure.”

Apollo sniffed. “Go for it.”

“No!” Patience cried out, aghast. “You can’t let him do that!”

Hades’ face split with a devious grin. “Patience dear, did my nephew never tell you about his history? Have you never heard of Apollo the Destroyer? It’s a fascinating tale, I assure you. I always wondered what it might take to bring the beast in him out again.”

She turned to Apollo, the man she loved more than life, and couldn’t hide the ripple of fear that shuddered through her. After her experience with Foster, she was already squeamish about men who let their fists do the talking. Yes, she’d read some myths about Apollo that made him seem, well, heartless, but surely those stories weren’t true.

So why was she so scared all of a sudden?

“I don’t believe you,” she countered, staring down the unfeeling creature that was Hades.

His only response was a laugh that chilled her soul.

She turned to Apollo. “The Destroyer? What does that mean?”

Apollo was almost as pale as Hades was now. “Patience, I…”

“You sick, interfering piece of…” Artemis broke in, glaring at their uncle.

“Oh, but it’s true,” Hades answered. “You see, Patience, when Apollo lost his shit over darling Daphne, he went a little, oh, bloodthirsty on the ancient world. No one was safe. He took out his frustrations on scores of innocents. Everyone chooses to remember Apollo the Fair, Apollo the Truthful. Folk have forgotten Apollo the Destroyer. If you’d been around at that time and got in his way, my nephew would have steamrolled over you like a drunken eighteen-wheeler on a rampage.” He sniffed as if to make his point. “And they call me the sick one.”