Sunburn, page 9
Patience believed him, didn’t hate him or fear him. It was mind-boggling.
And now it was getting late, and she looked tired and overwhelmed. And he still hadn’t told her about the demon. He had to.
“Patience,” he murmured, wanting to reach for her hand, “there’s something you need to know.”
She glanced sideways at him, as if unsure she wanted to hear more. “Okay.”
“These … accidents you’ve been having, have you been having others I’m not aware of?”
“Yeah,” she admitted with a little laugh. “I was just thinking about that earlier. I think I’ve developed a klutzy gene late in life.”
“You’re not a klutz.” He gazed at her, willing her to accept what he had to say. “But you are in trouble, and I want to help you.”
“What kind of trouble?”
He took a deep breath. “Everything I’ve told you so far, about what I am, you believe?”
She looked back at him with a steady, frank gaze. “I do.”
Relieved, he continued. “Okay. Then you’d be willing to believe there are other entities out there? Entities who may not mean well?”
“You mean, like, evil spirits?”
“I mean demons.” He paused. “Patience, the realm of Hades is an enormous place, with different levels and spheres. Sort of like … a blooming onion. You can peel back all the layers, yet it still feels as if you never get to the crux of it. And although it’s run by my Uncle Hades, each layer has its own hierarchy and structure. And Hades has employed several captains, if you will, each of whom has his own role and underlings.”
She nodded, following. “Blooming onion. Captains. Gotcha.”
“When a soul gets ready to die, procedures are followed. But when a person who’s meant to die doesn’t, a demon is generally dispatched to collect that soul.” He swallowed, hating he had to do this. “Patience, have you had any near-death experiences lately, aside from what I’ve seen?”
She blinked, thinking. Her face paled, and she dropped her gaze to the ground. “I was almost killed in a car accident a few months ago. My mom had come to see me. I don’t even remember why anymore. She was drunk as usual. We argued, as usual. She tried to leave in her car. God only knows how she managed to get to my place at all in her state. I grabbed her keys and said I’d drive her home.” She trailed off.
“Go on,” he urged, reaching for her hand.
She didn’t remove her hand from his. “I drove, and she was so angry at me, insisting she was sober enough to drive herself home. I made a turn onto the next road, and my mother was screaming at me and flailing her arms. At one point, she just grabbed the wheel and yanked. I tried to control the car, but we spun out. We hit a tree, a big one. The car was totaled, completely smashed on the driver’s side. And the airbag didn’t even deploy. My mother was unharmed, probably because she was so pickled. She just walked out. And somehow, I got away with just a few scrapes. I don’t understand how. The EMS team said I should have died in that wreck. I chalked it up to fate and decided it must not have been my time.”
He forged ahead, knowing it had to come out, and the sooner the better. “It was your time. You were supposed to die in that collision. And now a demon from Hades is charged with collecting on that debt. There’s a demon hiding on this resort, Patience, and he’s here to kill you.”
“Oh.” She frowned and swayed, ever so slightly. “Well, that’s so not cool.” Licking her lips, looking as if she were trying desperately to rally from this information, she asked a question. “But how do you know?”
“Well, my god portfolio is rather extensive. I’m also the god of prophecy. I can see things.”
“Can you see him? Who is it?”
He wanted to curse until the air was blue, but refrained. “I don’t know. I’m not permitted to see all the details when it comes to those who are … connected to me, for lack of a better word.”
“And I’m connected to you because I’m The Travel Chick?”
He gazed into her caramel eyes, and then let his gaze drop, taking in the sweet curve of her thighs under those hot pink shorts. Yeah, that. And also because I want to fuck you so badly my balls have been blue since you stepped onto this resort. “I suppose.”
“Can’t you do something about this demon?” she asked, her face scrunched with obvious hope.
“That’s the problem. I can’t see him. Demon camouflage is impenetrable, even against the eyes of a god like me.”
She let her hand fall out of his, letting it rest on her lap like a limp noodle. “So, I’m screwed.”
“I’ll do my best to protect you, Patience.”
There was no way he was letting her out of his sight. In this scenario, come hell or high water, he’d be the one screwing Patience. Not the demon.
Chapter 8
Somehow, although Patience wasn’t sure how, she managed to eat that night in Apollo’s room. Apollo the Greek god who’d told her about the demon trying to murder her.
Her head was still swimming.
However, Apollo had seen she needed sustenance and ordered room service from the Italian restaurant. When the meal arrived, looking and smelling like the best comfort food ever, Patience had eaten but barely tasted the lasagna. They’d eaten in silence perched on the edge of the bed, and she’d had enough presence of mind to realize it was a comfortable silence, despite the situation.
He made her feel comfortable, even though he was the one man who clearly shouldn’t.
A genuine Greek god. She couldn’t imagine what else in this crazy life might be true. Why, they’d discussed centaurs as if they were talking about pet cats. They’d gone over the intricacies of what made one a siren and what made one a gorgon. Gorgons were the ones with snake heads, although it wasn’t advisable to actually go looking for one. And she’d heard all the intimate details of love affairs between folks named Ares and Demeter and Hera. It boggled her mind.
But it was as exciting, as pulse pounding, as a rollercoaster ride off a tall building.
All except the demon part.
Once they finished eating, she moved into the small kitchen space he had in the villa, meaning to wash the dishes. He stopped her. “Don’t worry about that.”
She put her dishes on the counter and turned to him, the sharp anguish of desire coursing through her. It shouldn’t under the circumstances, but it still did. And she worried she’d be swept away with it. “Okay, thanks. I guess I should go.”
She turned to the door, but he was already there, clearly having used his Superman flying skills. Yet another example she was way out of her league here.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To my room. To try to sleep.”
He moved right in front of her, practically leveling her with the intense heat from his eyes. Apollo frowned. “Haven’t you heard a word I said? There’s a demon gunning for you.”
“I have to sleep somewhere!”
He nodded, his eyes dwelling on her lips for a second too long. “You’ll stay with me. There’s no choice, Patience. It’s why I’ve been around you all this time. I want to protect you.”
Deep in her womb, something cried out for him. “Why?”
Once again, his gaze fell to her lips. Then lower. Coasting over the well of her bosom, making her nipples pebble. “Because … because you’re going to write a good review for my resort. And we haven’t completed the ultimate Mayan Riviera experience.”
Now he was sweating. Oh, this was so bad. “But … all my things.”
Apollo snapped his fingers. She turned as her suitcase appeared in his room, bulging with all her belongings. “You stay here. There’s no other way. Get used to it.”
She had an urge to go touch the suitcase and see if it was a mirage, but didn’t bother. Either way, it was pretty impressive. “But where will I sleep? You only have one bed.”
One king-size, sexy bed with the high thread-count sheets as soft as his golden hair.
He frowned and glanced at the bed. “The bed’s yours. Don’t worry.” He looked around the room, as if wondering how he could make it more suitable. “Can I get you anything else before you go to sleep? More blankets?” He touched her cheek, caressing the skin under her eye where her dark circles must be. “A sleeping pill? I know this is hard to take.”
“No,” she replied in a quiet voice, reveling in the feel of his fingers. Wanting that sensation all over her body, inside her body. “Something tells me I’ll drop right off.”
He removed his hand, making her want to drag it back. “Would you like a shower before you go to bed?” He indicated the only shower she’d seen in the house. The spacious outdoor shower on his private balcony. The one with the expensive tiling and luxury showerhead that was a foot across. The one you could see into from the room. The one that looked made for two people doing very dirty things. Breaking out in a cold sweat, she answered, “No. I’ll just use the bathroom, thanks.”
He grinned, and one of his shimmery eyebrows shot up. “I promise not to look. That is, unless you want me to.”
Oh, dear. She grabbed her suitcase, escaped into the bathroom and quickly brushed her teeth, and then changed into the most respectable T-shirt she had. Covering herself with the suitcase, she padded back into the bedroom, dropped her luggage, and raced for the bed. Apollo’s keen, smiling eyes were on her the whole time before she dove under the covers.
“You don’t have to hide from me, you know. I have seen one or two female bodies before.”
A sudden, strange surge of jealousy gripped Patience as she dared to look at him. Just how many would he have seen? It had to number in the … what … thousands? Sheesh. “No kidding, Mr. I’m-A-God?”
“And,” he remarked archly, “when you wore that skimpy bikini, I saw most of yours, too.”
Feeling superexposed, even under the covers, Patience tried to catch her breath. “Yeah, well, hopefully the sight didn’t burn your heavenly retinas.”
“I told you, Patience,” he scolded. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’d give Aphrodite a run for her money.” He grinned, obviously loving her discomfort. And then, to her horror, he walked over and tucked her into the bed. Smoothing the sheets around her arms and legs, letting his hands rest for a hot moment on her thighs. Making her rage with mad lust.
How was she supposed to sleep now?
He looked at her with an expression that resembled tenderness. “Sleep well, Patience.” After dropping a soft kiss on her brow, he stood.
And stripped out of his clothes. One pull, and his shirt disappeared over his head. One yank, and his shorts were loosened.
“What are you doing?” Patience cried, horrified.
He pulled off his sport socks and let his shorts fall to the floor, leaving him in only his fitted black boxers. She stared at his massive thigh muscles. Gaped at his washboard abs. Gawked at the shape of his enormous erection as it appeared through the thin, black Lycra.
He grinned. “Just because you don’t want a shower doesn’t mean I don’t.” He put his fingers in his boxer waistband. “If you’re offended, just roll over.”
“I’m not offended,” she stammered, “but I really wasn’t expecting you to just stand there and take off your…”
He whipped off his boxers, cutting off the words in her throat. For a moment, Apollo just stood there, nude, his eyes challenging her.
He was glorious to behold, and she couldn’t look away. Everything about him demanded her acute attention. From the way his strong shoulders gave way to perfect biceps and triceps, to the way his ribs were covered in delectable muscle. His waist narrowed, with two gorgeous cuts of brawn right above his hips. And the delights of his crotch made her mouth water. He had the same beautiful blond hairs there, catching the light in the room. Trailing toward a cock that moved for her. It was so big, it was out of this world.
And it looked delectable.
She now understood why all those old sculptors labored to recreate his image in marble. He was so gorgeous, he just demanded a statue.
Without saying another word, Apollo opened the door to the balcony and stepped into the shower. Patience just lay there, immobile and frustrated with want, and stared as he turned on the water and adjusted the temperature.
Her eyes took in his incredible ass, and she swallowed as she glimpsed the flexing muscle there. It was so perfect, she wanted to frame it. She’d never forget its distinct curves.
He found the right temperature and stepped under the coursing water. He closed his eyes and got his hair wet. She gulped as it turned from golden to the color of wet hay. He reached for his shampoo, and she knew she should look away.
Look away, you sex-crazed pervert!
But she didn’t want to look anywhere else. She could barely move or think or breathe. Apollo, god of the sun, was bathing in front of her. In fact, she had the strong suspicion he was bathing for her.
He lathered up, and the white stream of bubbles dripped from his head over his shoulders, hips, and legs. He rinsed his hair, and she reeled in bed, feeling as if she were floating on air and not on a solid foundation.
And then, to her surprise and delight, he took a bar of soap and turned to her. Through the glass window separating them, he stared at her, daring her to hold his gaze. With excruciating slowness, he rubbed the soap over his chest, lathering the sparse hairs there. Keeping his eyes trained on hers, he moved the bar over his nipples, and they tightened. He then moved the soap over his flat stomach toward his pubic area. Still gazing at her, his face concentrated, he moved the bar around his scrotum, sudsing the whole area for her viewing pleasure.
And then he dropped the soap. With purpose.
Patience watched, desperate to touch herself, desperate to have him touch her, as he gripped his cock and pumped. She stared, rapt, overcome by the desire etched into his face as he pleasured himself. Like a student in some weird Sex Ed class, she looked on, mesmerized, learning and absorbing which sorts of strokes made him shudder. Which touches made his knees buckle.
Somehow, as she observed those long, slow strokes, Patience felt at one with Apollo. As if she were seeing not only his most intimate moment but also into a piece of his soul. A part of him he’d saved just for her. As his breath hitched, hers did too. As his movements grew jerkier, she almost heard his heart beat. She concentrated on his hand and his glazed eyes, so focused on her, and somehow believed in that moment she knew him better than anyone had ever known him.
She continued to watch until he came, as a juicy stream of cum exploded from him, streaking up his stomach, only to be washed away in the shower. And she wished she could have licked it away instead.
Resting his hand on the wall for support, Apollo stared back, apparently equally rapt. After a few more tortuous moments, he turned off the shower and grabbed a hanging towel.
Before he reentered the room, Patience turned over and brushed away a tear that appeared out of nowhere in her eye. She had no idea why she should be crying, except for the aching sense of loss in not being able to join him in that shower.
The balcony door opened, and she heard him step back into the bedroom and stop. “Patience,” he whispered. “I know you’re awake.”
She couldn’t reply. What had she done? Normal people didn’t so such things. But she’d been unable to look away. Mortified, she pretended to be asleep.
And being who he was, Apollo didn’t bother her again. She heard him throw on some clothes, heard the scrape of the corner chair on the floor, and heard him settle on it. He turned the light out, and she lay awake in that big bed by herself.
Awake for hours.
Chapter 9
When the next morning came, Patience was miserable with aborted passion and withheld lust. She lay in bed for long minutes, waiting for any sign Apollo might be awake.
God help her if he wanted a morning shower too. She couldn’t watch again. She’d end up in the loony bin!
Waiting for any signs of life from the corner chair, she heard nothing. Finally she decided she couldn’t wait any longer to hit the bathroom. As quietly as she could, she lifted the covers off her legs and commenced what she hoped was a stealthy, ninja-like scootch out of the bed.
“Good morning,” he boomed in a happy voice from out from the corner, scaring her. “Did you sleep well?”
She dared to sit up and look at Apollo. He was indeed still in the chair, but dressed in sporty swim trunks with a blue floral design and flip-flops. Bare-chested. Looking totally refreshed. And grinning like the sexiest piece of man candy she’d ever seen.
“Sure,” she muttered, rubbing her makeup-smeared eyes. “Just peachy.”
He was at her side in a second, a warm hand on her cheek, his eyes creased with concern. “Was the bed uncomfortable?”
“No.” Her crotch was uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get much rest.” He looked at her for a moment and then smiled. “You’re cute in the morning.”
Oh God. What must my breath be like? “I think you need glasses, Mr. Olympus.”
He laughed. “It’s true, you know. I only tell the truth. At least, I can’t lie outwardly.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s my curse.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I literally cannot utter a lie. It’s just part of my role.” He dropped his gaze to her bare legs and ran it up and down their length. “So when I say you’re cute, I mean it.”
Patience felt such a scorching wave of heat, she was sure her whole body was blushing.
“Listen,” he said softly. “Last night…”
Oh no, she couldn’t go there again. Patience jumped out the bed. “Sorry. Have to pee!” She fled into the bathroom.
When she reentered the room after fifteen minutes, after having peed and bathed, he was waiting for her with a full room-service breakfast. Bacon. Eggs. The whole mouthwatering deal.
“Let’s eat,” he said, still annoyingly bright and cheery. “Today, I’m taking you off the resort. We both need a break from this place and from the demons that haunt it. So, in order to continue our ultimate Mayan Riviera experience, I’m taking you to Tulum beach. We can look at the ruins, or just worship the sun. Sound good?”
