I should go with that option. It’s a flimsy excuse, but a much safer one for me. My emotions are already compromised, have been compromised since before I agreed to Zeus’s bargain. I’m leaving the city as soon as I possibly can. Giving in to the lust saturating the air between us all but guarantees I’ll be leaving Olympus with a broken heart. I might be able to separate sex and emotions well enough in normal life, but this is Apollo.
Fool that I am, I don’t care what pain I’m guaranteeing myself. I want this too badly to say no. It’s supposed to be the kissing and stuff that is designed to excuse the snooping, but right now it feels like the snooping is giving us the excuse we need to do a whole lot more than kiss. I take a step backward, toward the door. “Come on, Apollo. Let’s go see the kinky rooms.”
14
Apollo
I am not one to let my baser desires get the best of me. My brain rarely shuts off, and as a result, I overthink things to a clinical degree. It’s been the reason behind the end of several of my relationships over the years.
Standing here, staring at Cassandra, I’m not thinking of anything at all.
She’s always been beautiful. But in this moment, dressed in that little tease of pajamas that have her breasts straining precariously against their thin straps and have pulled tight across her generous hips? She’s devastating.
I want to kiss that down-turned mouth. I want to run my hands over her lush body and pull her tight against me. Gods, I want to wrap that braid around my fist and force her to meet my gaze and admit she wants me, too.
I shake my head, trying to think. “Are you sure?”
“For fuck’s sake, Apollo.” She starts for the door.
Oh gods. Oh fuck.
If the sight of her from the front was enough to short out my thoughts, I can barely stay on my feet at the view she presents me with as she opens the door. I have seen her ass in tight skirts and hidden behind flared dresses and—on the very lucky days—on display with tailored pants. I’ve never seen her show so much skin.
Of course not. She’s not in office wear. She’s in her pajamas and you’re panting after her like a creep.
“Apollo.”
I’m moving before I decide to take the first step. I have the disconcerting thought that I’d follow her anywhere as long as she let me look my fill. “Wait.”
She stops in the doorway but doesn’t look back. “What?”
“I told you that no video or photo would get out that would…”
“Apollo, please. You said that Hector took care of it. If we find out otherwise?” Cassandra looks over her shoulder at me. “Either hack Minos’s systems and delete it—I know you’re capable of it—or I’ll ask Hermes to do it.”
I blink. “Why would Hermes do that for you?”
“We used to date a long time ago.” It’s hard to tell, but I think she’s blushing. “We’re…friends now. I guess I should have mentioned it before.”
I had no idea, because I very intentionally did not look into her past. With Hermes in the mix, I’m not sure there’d be anything to find about this relationship, but I didn’t even look out of respect for Cassandra. The fact that she’s offering up the information now, freely, is a gift. I need to see it as such.
I’m only human.
I can’t help the spike of jealousy that rises in response to realizing that Hermes has dated the woman I… I’m not even sure how to term it. Cassandra is not for me. She can’t be for me. Asking her to stay would be so selfish it makes me feel vaguely ill, and yet the impulse is there all the same. I swallow hard. “I see.”
She steps back into the room and closes the door. “I didn’t say anything before because I wasn’t sure if it was a strange thing to just bring up randomly.” Cassandra tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
The move brings my attention back to her body. Gods, those pajamas should be illegal. I have no excuse for the words that erupt. “Hermes is kinky.”
“Extremely.” Cassandra doesn’t move, doesn’t seem to breathe. “What are you asking me?”
You dated her.
You’re kinky, too.
“You should have told me you dated her. Her tastes run a certain way, and if yours do as well, that’s something I need to know.” I almost sound normal as I say it.
“You’re right.” She gives one of those delicious little shivers that makes her breasts shake. Her nipples are hard points against the silky black fabric of her top. “I don’t like pain. We played bondage and some light dominance and submission. Occasionally she got more creative with the games, but it was only ever the two of us. No sharing.” She looks away. “And yeah, there was some nearly public stuff. I was young and foolish enough to think it wouldn’t matter if we were caught—and Hermes ensured we never were.”
My cock goes so painfully hard. Bondage. All too easily, I can picture Cassandra’s body crisscrossed with Shibari. Art. The sexiest art in existence. And once she was well and truly tied…
“When was this?”
“Six years ago, give or take. We weren’t public about it by my request.” She gives a half smile. “Even as angry and impulsive as I was, I knew better than to be linked to one of the Thirteen officially.”
I have to step back, have to turn away to avoid kissing her right now. This isn’t real, no matter how visceral the attraction. We have a job to do. “I see. We’ll…” I clear my throat again. “Let’s get moving.”
She arches a brow. “Do you have bondage gear hiding in that bag of yours?”
No, but if I’d known to ask these questions, I would have packed some. “I’m sure Hermes has some stashed somewhere.”
“What an excellent way to mark your territory just like a real boyfriend.” She licks her lips. “Let’s go.”
She’s right. At this point, I’m stalling. Inexcusable. “After you.”
We step into the empty hall and look around. My arm brushes Cassandra’s bare shoulder and it’s everything I can do not to press her to the wall and ravish her mouth. With so little clothes on our bodies, I’ll be able to feel her skin against mine, will be able to slide my hands under the hem of her top and…
She starts moving down the hall toward the main stairs. Her ass is truly out of this world. I normally try to resist ogling her, but there’s no resisting this. Especially not when she puts a bit of extra sway in her step. “You’re doing that on purpose.”
“Doing what on purpose?” She doesn’t look over her shoulder at me, but the teasing in her tone confirms my suspicion.
I manage to keep it together as we check the first three rooms. They’re exactly as Ariadne described—sitting rooms. Truly, they’re just as soulless as Minos’s office.
Cassandra’s soft laugh makes me look over. “What?”
“He missed this.” She points up to where a hook is cleverly tucked into the ceiling. It’s a sturdy thing, obviously meant to hold enough weight to suspend a person.
Again, the image of Cassandra’s body patterned with rope hits me with the force of a freight train. Her arms bound above her head, giving me full access to her body…