Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(87)

“Leave,” Kharon ordered.

“Nice government drone,” I said.

The woman looked at me like I was deranged, then shook her head and recovered her composure.

“Hello,” she purred at Kharon and Augustus as she leaned forward, impressive breasts spilling out the top of her toga.

“Get out of here!” Nyx clicked her teeth. “Skanky whore.”

I choked on the two lamb sticks I was attempting to eat at the same time (I didn’t remember grabbing them off a tray).

“You can’t just say that to people,” I whispered down to Nyx. “It’s so misogynistic.” A chunk of meat fell out of my mouth.

The woman looked at me again like she suspected I was crazy. She was very astute.

Nyx sighed and slithered down to my waist. “Please—women have already reclaimed the word whore. It’s not rude. It’s a fact.”

I squinted. “Wait … when did we reclaim it?”

Nyx made a noise like she thought I was the biggest idiot. “Uh, during the apocalypse. Where have you been, Alexis?”

Hell stood up from the floor with a yawn. “Belly … rub?” he asked me.

“Kharon will do it,” I said back.

“Walk away—or my hellhound will bite,” Kharon threatened, his eyes cold. “I’m a one-woman man … and she’s standing beside me.”

“Rub … now?” Hell growled with excitement, getting worked up at the thought and lying on his back.

The woman stumbled back in a scared rush.

Kharon bent down and patted Hell’s rib cage. “Good boy—way to scare the mean lady.”

I was surrounded by idiots.

“I’m going to try and murder them again,” Nyx hissed as she slithered off my shoulders. “Wish me luck.”

I did not.

Kharon turned to me slowly as our animals tussled violently (mine strangled, while his wagged their tails).

“Why … weren’t you mad at that woman?” Kharon asked.

I shrugged. “Uh—why would I be?”

Kharon turned so I was pressed back against the pillar, his body covering mine. “I will only do monogamy … My mother might be cruel, but the House of Artemis does not sleep around in relationships. We are absolutely devoted—or we are nothing.”

I struggled to speak, my brain fuzzy from his proximity. “Technically, isn’t monogamy a one-to-one ratio of—”

Kharon slammed his lips against mine.

“Quiet, Alexis.”

I opened my mouth to argue, and he plunged his tongue inside.

His taste was headier than the ambrosia and the effects more pronounced.

“Enough … Do this later,” Augustus said gruffly. “You’re causing a scene.”

Kharon pressed his hips against my core and turned me, so my back was pressed flush against Augustus and my side was against the pillar—he made a guttural sound and grabbed my hips from behind.

Kharon fisted my curls and tilted my head back harshly.

Augustus jerked his hips against my ass.

I melted (a small voice in my head wondered if meemaw was watching, and if Sparta had a witness protection program).

Augustus leaned down and pressed kisses to the sensitive skin below my ear. His voice dropped an octave. “If you keep kissing her like that against me, I’m going to lose all control and slaughter everyone in this room for watching. Then I’m going to fuck her on the floor.”

Kharon stilled, his breath ragged as he pulled his lips away from mine.

He swore under his breath as he stepped back, icy eyes full of heat.

Augustus flexed his hips one last time, then released his grip on me.

All three of us were struggling to breathe.

Augustus made another harsh noise as he raked his hands through his hair, messing up the long two-toned locks.

“That wasn’t a funny joke,” I said, my mouth swollen from Kharon’s aggressive kiss, neck tingling where Augustus had pressed his lips.

Augustus’s midnight eyes hardened. “What are you talking about?” His voice was gritty.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “The killing everyone and then …” I trailed off, unable to say the words.

I discreetly squeezed my thighs together.

“Fucking you,” Kharon purred as he dragged his thumb across his lips, Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared down at me hungrily.

“Yeah, that.”

Augustus frowned. “Who said I was joking?” A vein jumped in his temple and his hands shook as he clasped them behind his back.

He looked undone.

I forced out a laugh. “Har, har, very funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke,” Augustus said softly, the quiet tenor of his voice more disturbing than if he’d yelled. “I meant what I said.”

He took a step toward me.

Ozone filled my nose.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned away from my husbands. My head was fuzzy, and it had nothing to do with the ambrosia.

Lights started flashing blindingly in my face.

Click. Click. Click.

Fluffy Jr. whimpered with distress, and I acted on instinct, dropping to my knees on the floor, covering his face, as I glared up at the two reporters.

“Hercules—what’s wrong with your protector?” one shouted.