It takes less than thirty seconds for her to spasm against me, her cry loud enough that I kiss her again to muffle it. I can’t quite stop myself from sliding my fingers over her folds, exploring her carefully. I plan to do it with my tongue at the first opportunity.
Not yet.
Her head lolls against the back of the booth, and she blinks up at me as if she’s never seen me before. “Wow.”
“Yeah.” My voice is nearly as shaky as hers. “That about covers it.” I can’t stop myself from kissing her again, more lightly this time. “You are a gift.”
“Eris.” The lovely, glazed look in her eyes clears between one blink and the next. She licks her lips. “Don’t use this against him. Please.”
The plea is like icy water dumped over my head. Him. Hephaestus. My husband. The person I’m supposed to be seducing Pandora to work against. Except I wasn’t thinking about him at all once her mouth met mine.
“I won’t,” I lie. I like Pandora quite a bit more than I expected to, but in the end my only allegiance is to Olympus. I love Adonis and I still cut out his heart to sacrifice to this city. I’ll do the same to this woman, even if it pains me to think of dimming the soft happiness in her dark eyes.
It takes more restraint than I would have guessed to ease back and fix her dress. It takes even more to urge her out of the booth and walk through the dark room to the exit.
And putting her in a car to send home alone?
That takes the most restraint of all.
11
HEPHAESTUS
I hear my wife walk through the door a few seconds before I see her. It’s dark in her apartment, so she doesn’t notice me standing in the living room at first. Obviously she forgot she gave me access in the first place—and then forgot to revoke it.
She looks like she’s been out fucking. Her hair is a tangled mess, as if someone dragged their fingers through it, and her come-fuck-me dress is sliding dangerously low on her breasts.
Then I see the lipstick smeared at the base of her jaw. Even in the shadows, I know that shade. It’s the only one Pandora wears. “What did you do?”
To Aphrodite’s credit, she doesn’t jump or scream. No, the damned witch goes right for the gun she had fastened to the underside of the coffee table. She curses when she finds the spot empty. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
“I’m your husband.” Following Adonis’s instructions, I made sure I was seen coming here. Waiting for my wayward wife while she was off doing gods-alone-know-what. The poor sap of a husband. The skin of that role feels too tight, but Adonis was right before… In a game of perception, Aphrodite is a heavy hitter, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.
Seeing her infuriates me. She was born with everything at her fingertips, and that privilege is there even now in the way she rises gracefully to her feet. This woman has wanted for nothing, and every second in her presence is an itch I can’t scratch, one designed to drive me mad. She’s the one who took over my life and trapped me in this marriage I don’t want.
She is my enemy.
“Husband or not, you’re trespassing.” She starts pulling pins out of her hair and moves to the side table, dropping them there, one by one. “I’m not in the mood to play with you. Come back during normal business hours.”
“You’re my wife,” I growl.
She stops and smirks. “Please. You’re not naive enough to think that means anything.” She runs her fingers through her dark hair and it cascades down around her bare shoulders.
Aphrodite looks good, which just pisses me off further. I stalk to her. Even with taking it easy this afternoon, my knee fucking hurts and I can’t keep the limp out of my step. Rationally, I know my wife isn’t to blame for that particular sin, but her sister is and that’s enough to have me catching her jaw and turning her face away from me. I swipe my thumb over her skin, smearing the lipstick. “I’m going to ask you this once more—where have you been?”
“Here and there,” she says airily. “You know how it is. Too many places to be, too little of me to go around.”
I rub the lipstick between my fingers. It is Pandora’s shade. I’m sure of it. Now that I’m thinking of it, there’s a scent in the air…
Aphrodite curses when I pin her to the wall and press my face to her neck. I inhale deeply and, yes, there it is. Pandora’s perfume. It’s the first gift I bought her after Minos put me in the ring at eighteen, bought with my winnings from that fight. Ever since then, I buy it for her for birthdays and whenever I notice she’s running low. It always makes her smile, and that brightens my day no matter how shitty everything else is going.