Chapter 16
PHAEDRA
Mathias looked weary, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, and I know a large part of it was because of me. I wanted to apologize to him, but he wouldn’t give me the chance. I barely got out a hi before he bolted outside. Is it because he can’t bear to be in the same room as me?
Hawthorne pushes his hand into the soil, and tiny buds sprout from the center. It continues to grow until it’s a four-foot-tall tree with branches sprouting off it. Flowers bloom along the leaves, but no fruit.
I frown. Hawthorne looks up, but when he sees my expression, he reaches out a thumb to smooth the lines between my brows.
“Oops. Forgot my hands were dirty.” He lays a hand on his shirt and cotton spools from the fabric into his hand, creating a small cloth.
After dampening it with a bit of conjured water, he smooths it across my forehead.
With him this close, his earthy scent fills the air, penetrating my skin until it’s drenched, reminding me of all the times we spent together. I inhale sharply as the images bombard me, including the one of us intimate in the shower, and I reach out and grip his shirt tightly.
His hand slowly lowers until he’s staring down at me. Yearning and desire flare between us, darkening his sea-green eyes, but he holds himself back.
I lick my lips, aching to feel his lips on mine.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he pleads with me. “Gatlin told me you were in the shower earlier, and I’ve been hanging on by a thread ever since. The smell of you is driving me crazy. I’m so hard I can barely remember my name. It’s all I can do not to strip you down and take you right here.”
My breath catches. “I can’t help what I feel. I want you. Having you here but unable to touch you…and show you how sorry I am, it’s driving me crazy.” His face blanks, and I huff out a breath, refusing to push him into something he’ll regret. “I know you don’t want…”
His lips slam onto mine. Instead of tenderness and passion, it’s crammed with anger and sadness and need all rolled into one.
Firm and controlling, he demands my submission.
And I instantly crumble under the barrage of his lips.
Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment, but I don’t care.
Even if this doesn’t resolve things between us. I miss him. I want him.
“I’ll tell you what I don’t want,” he replies with a snarl, surprising me. “I don’t want some deranged mage obsessing over you.”
Anger glints in his eyes, surprising me. This must have been bugging him since they met with Caron.
He slides a finger down my shirt and buttons disappear, baring my lace-covered breasts to his gaze.
His eyes heat as he removes my bra and cups my breasts in his hands.
I arch, wanting him to squeeze them. Instead, he lightly flicks each nipple with his thumbnail, then soothes it, over and over, until I’m desperate for him to put his mouth on them.
He leans down and tongues them, licking and flattening them as they harden further in response. Aching now, I moan as he sucks on them. I hold his head tightly to me, not wanting him to stop.
“I don’t want to wake up every morning and not see you sleeping next to me.”
My grip loosens for a second as his words hit me. Damn. We grew so close when he was injured. Sleeping next to him felt right. Natural. Like we belonged together.
“I don’t want to see you kissing Gatlin and not be able to do the same,” he rasps, waving a hand over the rest of my clothes until I’m lying completely naked in front of him.
His eyes drift down over my body, and his hands follow, like he has to touch every inch to make sure I’m real and here before him.
“I don’t want to feel alone ever again.”
My heart cracks wide open because this is something we all share. Him. Me. Gatlin. Mathias. And even Jamison, although he might deny it.
He pulls me to him and tunnels his hand into my hair.
“I don’t want to want you. Or need you.” His mouth drops to mine in a scorching kiss that annihilates every thought, and I moan as my body moves restlessly, wanting him on top of me, in me.
As he jerks his mouth from mine, he breathes in a ragged breath.
I melt. “I’m sorry…”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to hear you’re sorry.” When I open my mouth to ask what he does want, he presses a thumb to my lips. “I don’t want you to talk. Just feel. My tongue. My lips. My hands. Me. Surrounding you, touching you, inside you.”
He’s everywhere. Touching. Licking. I shift restlessly and arch into his hands, wanting more. Everything he’ll give me. He’s relentless in his need, almost forceful, as if he’s afraid I’ll stop him.
I gasp at the thought. That’s the last thing I want.
I run my hands across his broad shoulders and down his shirt, undoing buttons as quickly as I can.
I want his burnished skin against mine. I dip my head, tasting and kissing every revealing inch.
His breathing becomes ragged as my tongue explores his incredible body.
My hands move quickly, undoing his belt and pants, and shoving them down.
Not wanting to break the silence, I look up with him, a silent demand in my eyes as my hands dip below his waistband to grasp him.
He pushes into my palm, and I slide my hand down to his base, then up again, watching his eyes briefly close at the sensation of my hand rolling down his cock. He exhales heavily and flicks his wrist to remove the rest of his clothes but also captures my hand as he pulls out of my embrace.
A plush pile of blankets and pillows appears beneath me. I lie back half-naked and stare into turbulent sea-green eyes full of need. His hand dips between my legs, and his eyes widen when he feels how wet I am. His thumb strokes me several times while his finger slides down and enters me.
My legs fall open in invitation, but I grab his wrist, needing him inside me more than anything right now. He grabs my hand and puts it over my head as he settles between my legs. Our eyes lock as he enters me, hard and throbbing, then stops.
My lids shut briefly at the sensation, and I arch to pull him in deeper.
He pushes in an inch more, and I open my eyes and nod.
Burning need streaks across my body, while heat races over my skin.
I wrap my other hand around his back, nails digging in as he swivels his hips and pulls out, then thrusts in deep. Once, twice.
“Goddess, I’ve been dreaming of this moment for weeks,” he admits in a gravelly tone. He pauses and raises an eyebrow. I nod, not wanting him to take it slow. He immediately begins thrusting and filling me over and over.
Not once do his eyes leave mine. The steely determination in them demands surrender, and I give it to him, letting the walls around my heart fall.
I want him to see what he means to me. Full transparency.
If there is a way for us to be together, I want it.
Whether the gods will let us have a future, I don’t know, but it hurts too much not to try.
Emotions swell, and my body trembles, getting closer to the edge.
Little noises escape as the orgasm dances just beyond my reach.
Satisfaction crosses his face, and he slides a hand between us to stroke me.
Faster and faster, his hips and fingers move.
There. That’s it. I grip his body and clamp down, exploding in waves of heat and fire.
Moments later, he stiffens as his body follows.
Chest heaving, he drops his head onto my shoulder and doesn’t move for a minute. My hand slides over his back in a soothing manner. Eventually, he sits up and pulls out. Bereft but satisfied, I look up at him, wondering if this changed anything for us.
His face is blank as if he doesn’t want me to see his emotions, and a tear slips out of the corner of my eye. He sighs and covers me with his body but props his weight up so he can look at me. His thumb wipes the tear away.
“I don’t want to forgive you.”
His words cut deep, and for a second, I stop breathing.
“But I do. It’s my turn to apologize. I’m sorry. It’s taken me too long to realize the girl who opened the vase is not the woman in front of me. The past clouded my view of the present.”
I breathe out in relief, a harsh exhalation of the fear that gripped me for a second. He traces my features with the tip of his finger as his gaze follows.
“Here, in this world, I existed…until you came along and filled all my empty spaces. I don’t want to live without you.” His lips softly land on mine for a second, a silent punctuation at the end of the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard.
Hope fills every crevice of my body. My throat tightens with the urge to cry, but I know he needs words too.
I smooth the hair from his face, then continue running my hands lightly across his shoulders and down his back, unable to stop touching him.
He shudders under my light caresses. “I tried my hardest to keep my distance. Actually thought I succeeded.” I snort.
“Until I had to live one day without you. All my walls crumbled fast. Everything felt hollow. There was no joy. The only thing that kept me going was my determination to find the panels and set things right for you.”
He swipes a lock of my hair and twirls it around his finger. “The panels don’t matter to me. I belong here. In this world. Fighting for you. For us. Do what you need to do, but it makes no difference to me.”
He’s willing to stay here. With me. I swallow hard at the lump in my throat. “What made you change your mind?”
“Caron made me realize that not everyone has had the luxury of someone in their corner. I want to be the one in yours.”
Damn this man. The simple statement fills my heart. I pull back, wanting him to be sure. “This could get rough. I don’t know what the gods are planning or how to win against them.”
“We’ll find a way,” he assures me, his confidence absolute. His lips dip to mine as he seals his words with a kiss.
Suddenly, he pulls back and cocks his head to the side, then waves a hand over the two of us, dressing us with little more than thought. “Much as I hate to cover this beautiful body, they’re back.”
I hear the front door open, then Jamison’s voice. “Phaedra, Gatlin has a surprise for you.” There’s a strangled note to his voice that makes me frown.
What in the world?
Hawthorne stands and pulls me up with him. His fingers link with mine in a clear statement, and I search his gaze for a second, wanting to be sure. What I see in the depths of his eyes takes my breath away. How did I get this lucky?
With a smile, I tug him out of the house to see Gatlin’s surprise. When we reach the porch, Jamison’s steel-blue eyes drop to our joined hands, and he stiffens, then moves his gaze to Hawthorne, who gives him a nod. The tension leaves his shoulders, and he waves a hand toward the yard.
I look beyond him and stare in wonder at the creature standing regally, white feathers spread wide.
“What in the world? Is that an albino peacock?” I loosen my grip on Hawthorne’s hands and walk down the steps toward the beautiful bird.
Gatlin shakes his head. “Mostly. She still has color in her eye.” I move closer to them both and peer down. An iridescent eye, filled with deep blue, green, and purple with a black center, stares back at me as if assessing my worth.
I shake my head several times and look helplessly at Gatlin. “She’s too beautiful to sacrifice.”
“You’re not sacrificing her. She’s a gift. Offer Hera a choice. The pin you found or a rare creature to stroll around her garden, bringing her peace and joy,” he replies with a shrug. “There aren’t many of them. She’ll recognize it for the privilege it is.”
I bite my lip and think about it. There might be a way to convince her.
Gatlin waits for me to make up my mind. Finally, I nod, walk over to him, and loop my arms around his neck to draw his head down for a thank-you kiss.
He wraps his muscular arms around me and pulls me in tight, his warmth wrapping around me like a blanket.
When I release him, he whispers in my ear, “Mmm. You smell like Hawthorne and satisfaction. Does this mean you’ve worked things out?”
Hawthorne’s Elven hearing must be good because he immediately steps forward and places a hand on my back. “We did.”
We all hear Jamison walk up the stairs and into the house. I bite my lip, wanting to go to him but not sure if I should.
Gatlin taps me on the nose. “Give him time.” He looks at the creature beside us. “I think this means we’re ready, right?”
“Two items. I think we should visit the temples in Italy. They’re side-by-side and will be the easiest to visit in one trip,” I reply. “I’ll contact Charlie and let him know we want to leave this afternoon.”
It’s obvious Jamison needs space, and I want to finish this little power trip Hera’s on.
The sooner we get the next visit over with, the faster I can concentrate on the last two items—the lotus and scepter.
I can’t help but feel time is running out.
Hawthorne’s hand brushes up and down my back, reminding me of his presence.
With so much at stake, I want to see what the rest of the gods have in store for me… us…as soon as possible.