Ink of Copper

27. In Which There is Dancing, Drinking, and General Lewd Behavior

Chapter 27

In Which There is Dancing, Drinking, and General Lewd Behavior

Day 11 Aboard the Epic of the Seas

T he music pumped from inside the club, giving the illusion that the base was alive and breathing, thumping against the walls. She hadn’t spoken to Evander in days, only caught glimpses of him from across a crowded pool. His distance made her question herself and, frankly, left her more than a little annoyed. Ellie spent her days between activities on board and curling up in loungers on different decks. And allowing her mind to wander back to that night. In her bed. With Evander’s kisses, his hands, his body moving against hers. Sure, he had gotten too excited, and she briefly wondered if he would be like that during sex, eager and brief.

She’d met Syren shortly after she’d spent yet another meal by herself, and the woman had convinced her to come here. That Evander might be a hot piece of ass, but he wasn’t the only one on board. If Ellie wanted to get him out of her system, she might as well get under someone else. Not the sort of sound logic she usually listened to, but as she figured it, Athens was in two days, which meant her trip was almost over. After Athens, she’d visit a few more islands before finishing in Ithaca, delivering the book she’d been keeping safe with her magic, and be on her way to exploring Greece. She’d only see Evander two more days, and then they’d part, returning to their lives.

Ellie had been living a life on hold for too long, and that night in her bed proved she was ready for something more, at least to herself. She had basically attacked him, and even though he seemed to enjoy it, his utter lack of communication or acknowledgment since was enough to have her wash her hands of the whole thing. She didn’t need another Penn making her feel guilty for enjoying sex. He wasn’t interested in her; that was clear. She’d move on; it was that simple. That was how she found herself outside the club, waiting in line.

In a few brief minutes, hand stamped with a giant thumbs up, which she hoped stood for over twenty-one, she made her way through the crowd. These places weren’t her scene; however, this was where one went to find one-night stands. Wasn’t it? Scanning the crowd for Syren, she pushed her way to the bar. Ellie ordered three shots and took them consecutively. Getting drunk wasn’t something she regularly did, but she needed something to drown out the voice in her head that sounded like her ex-husband and told her she wasn’t good enough. She ordered two more and had them downed when she spied her thieving partner by the DJ stand; she slammed back one more and made her way around the dance floor. Their friendship might have been forged by odd circumstances, but she looked forward to spending time with her and would miss her cruise friend when they reached their destination.

The music and the crowd pulsed in time with each other. Lights from the ceiling created shadows in the air above the hands of the dancers on the floor. When she reached Syren, she stood awkwardly, unsure what to do next. Syren met her with a wide smile.

“Come on, let’s find you some dick,” she yelled over the music and took Ellie’s hand to lead her to the dance floor. The music, people, and lights were a perfect way to get lost and not have to think. In a few moments, Ellie was dancing with the crowd, hands in the air, free. The atmosphere enveloped her, playing with her senses and sweeping her along. Strong hands slid alongside her hips as she danced, pulling her close. She looked over her shoulder into the face of some guy. They smiled at each other.

“I see you’re taking my advice,” Syren yelled into her ear. Nodding, she continued dancing. Next to her, Syren’s body moved like erotic art in motion in her little black dress. It had taken Ellie an unusually long time to decide what to wear, but ultimately, she wore a dress that showed off her curves. One Penn’s voice yelled at her for wearing; dark green and tied at the neck. The perfect fucktoy dress. The man dancing with her turned her by her hips to face him. Meeting a pair of deep-brown eyes, she said nothing, and neither did he. She wanted as little conversation as possible tonight. He pulled her closer so that she was grinding against him as his hands slid down over her ass. She tried not to flinch. Wrapping her arms around him, she held on in the sea of club goers.

“See, I knew you could have fun. Let go, and let your sexy self do the work,” Syren shouted over the music. She reminded Ellie so much of Reese, who would have said the same damn thing had she been here.

Lost in the music’s pulse, she let the stranger guide her, but after a few moments, he left, and Ellie was again alone. She watched as Syren raised her index finger and crooked it several times. Liam emerged at the outskirts of the crowd, and just beyond him, Evander leaned on a railing. The breath caught in Ellie’s throat when she locked eyes with him. He looked almost stunned to see her, as if he couldn’t fathom her in a club.

Asshole.

Syren curled herself around Liam and whispered something in his ear. Liam’s cheeks flamed, and he bit into her earlobe in response. They held on to each other and danced, their bodies moving as one. A grunt of annoyance escaped her as her eyes followed the sea of dancers to where she last saw Evander. He was gone.

Just as well. I wanted sex, not judgment, with a side of self-loathing.

With the couple occupied, she traveled the edge of the dance floor, swimming through the crowd, looking for her prey. When she saw him, she knew he was perfect—the color beige in human form. Wordless, she grabbed his hand and led him out onto the floor. She wrapped her arms around him and ground her hips into his. They were moving as one in a few minutes, and Ellie knew this was the one. He was shorter than Evander by several inches, good looking, but boring. No dimple in his cheek, no green-blue eyes, no intense stare. He was a nice man that Ellie would play with for a while, then kick him to the curb. If she could actually pull it off and get over her insecurities. Her belly full of liquid courage was helping, sort of. Unashamedly, she moved closer to him and nuzzled just under his jaw.

Ellie twisted in his arms and leaned back. Closing her eyes, she stroked her fingers through his hair, bringing his face next to hers, working the courage to make a move. When she opened them, her heart stopped. Evander stood in the corner, just beyond the dance floor against the wall. Two women were vying for his attention, but he was ignoring them. Instead, his piercing stare was directed at her. Something in his gaze sent a tingle racing down her spine. A pull to him, a call to her power that thrummed to life inside her. She had the sensation of him peeling her clothes off her body, while planting kisses on her skin. Annoyed at her response to his stare and his blatant refusal to acknowledge her for days, she pressed her ass further into the stranger’s crotch, grinding against his hard dick without breaking eye contact Evander. If she took this man back to her cabin, she knew it would be Evander’s face she pictured.

The longer he stared, the more annoyed she became. And turned on. Her eyes closed; she tasted Evander’s mouth, felt his hands, smelled his skin. The coursing, thumping music mixed with whatever was happening in her, frayed her control. Frustrated, she let out a low growl.

“That’s right, baby, growl. You’ll be howling later.”

Ellie snapped her eyes open at the stranger’s words in her ear. God damn it . This was childish; she wanted Evander, not some random guy. And it pissed her off he was avoiding her. Ellie wanted to march up to the bar and force him to talk to her, look at her, and explain himself. This entire thing was stupid. Instead of having a simple conversation to resolve all of this, she was out here dancing with a man she had no desire for. Angry at herself for listening to bad advice, she tried to step out of the guy’s arms. He gripped her hips and pulled her back. Ellie tried to move away again, and he grabbed her again. She turned in his arms to face him.

“I’m leaving,” she yelled in his ear.

“I don’t think you are.” He grinned with what she assumed he thought was a sultry smile but looked like a grimace.

She pushed against him. “As flattered as I am, I’m done.”

He grabbed her ass with both hands in response. Ellie wiggled and managed to turn herself around in his arms again. He pulled her close to him, his hand smoothing over her stomach and then down lower.

“Okay, cowboy,” she said, pushing his hands away from her waist. “That’s enough.”

A sloppy, wet kiss landed on her neck. “Trying to get away?”

Ellie flinched as spittle flew out of his mouth, and she resisted the urge to wipe her ear.

“Okay, okay. Get off!” she shouted and tried to step forward to remove his roaming hands. Instead of freeing herself, the stranger’s hand snaked lower to the hem of her dress, skimming her thigh as he edged it up. Ellie squealed. An enormous wall of a man came out of nowhere, snatching the stranger’s wrist.

“Don’t fucking think about it, mate,” Evander growled, his jaw clenched. The look of murder etched across his face.

“This is none of your—” but he never finished his sentence. Evander shoved him away, and in one smooth motion, positioned her behind him, effectively putting himself between her and the handsy stranger.

“Oh, but it is my business. She is my business,” he snarled.

Liam stepped next to him from out of the crowd. The man said something that was drowned out by the music. Evander stepped forward.

“Try it. I fucking dare you.”

The stranger said something else, but Evander had turned before she could protest and dragged her off the dance floor. As they reached the bar near the exit, she wiggled free.

“I think you’ve made your point.”

Evander whirled to face her. His nostrils flared with every breath; his eyes were wild. “What the hell were you thinking?” he spit out.

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t dance with a man like that.” He was cagey, his fists clenched.

“Me?!” she shouted. “How’s about that octopus needs a lesson in manners?”

“You were grinding your ass—”

“I can grind my ass on anyone I want. I don’t need your permission. Nor do I need you to save me.”

“You were practically fucking him right there.” He raked his fingers through his hair. Ellie was uncertain whether it was his anger or the music that caused him to yell at her.

“Oh, I see. You get to tell me who I can and cannot dance with. You’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to fuck me either,” she shouted back, her fists in balls at her sides.

At the word fuck , several people turned to look at the scene, but Ellie didn’t care. Her meter for male bullshit had reached its limit. He acted like he wanted her and then became cold and distant, with little more than a few words for days. He needed to leave her alone if he didn’t want her; she was too fucking old for this game. Shoving past him, she escaped through the exit.

Once outside, Evander took several calming breaths, but his fists remained clenched. The sight of Ellie scrambling away from that man’s grip had him looking to draw blood. Pacing the roped-off section meant to be a quiet spot for clubbers, he wrestled with returning and ripping the man apart. The damn nymph in him screamed to be set free. He had to keep moving before he gave in and showed Ellie, and dozens of innocent partiers, exactly what kind of monster he was.

“You can’t put yourself in these types of situations, Ellie. It’s dangerous,” he snapped at her.

She watched him pace like a caged tiger, studying his every move.

“I . . . don’t like feeling helpless. I’m . . .” His hand raked through his hair as he tried to keep his damn magic at bay. Controlled. She was waiting for an answer to his current act of barbarian behavior.

“You can’t just grind on someone and expect them to not . . . what I mean is, that bloke is a dead man for trying . . . Look at you!” He gestured to her. “Have you seen you? You’re walking sex. A goddamn vision. Stunning. What—what was that dancing?”

“What is wrong with you?” she asked as he crossed before her.

“What?” Evander spit out, huffing. Unsure what to do with his hands if they weren’t throttling anyone, he jammed them in his pockets. That didn’t last, and they ended up crossing across his chest. His magic whined, tugging at him to let the caged nymph free.

“I was just dancing.”

“Dancing? Dancing that could lead to . . . gods, what if he . . . I want to rip his arms off for even . . .”

Ellie shook her head. The boat listed, and she stumbled into him. His breath caught for a second with her so close. He was fighting a war on two fronts: whatever this pull she had on him was and his urge to go ten rounds with a stranger. She pushed him away. He ached to pull her back, to feel her in his arms, her lips pressed to his. Ellie turned and walked along the deck, hand skimming the railing. Evander followed.

Over the side of the ship, the sea was an inky, vast expansion just beyond the vessel’s lights. Above millions of stars shimmered and winked at them. Other couples had escaped and were sitting in chairs, holding each other. Ellie led him to a dark alcove at the very end of the deck, furthest away from everyone. The pulse of the bass rumbled low through the ship’s walls, dull and soft. Relentless waves splashing against the ship’s sides added to the gentle din and helped to clear his head. He thought that by avoiding her, he was protecting her, but seeing her wrapped around another man tonight had sent waves of jealousy coursing through him. He had been moody and short for days, fighting the pull in the name of duty. Keeping away from her was slowly driving him mad. He was white-knuckling his control, and it was precariously close to snapping. Here in this quiet corner of the ship, with the hum of the engines and sound of the waves, he could think, regroup, gain his composure, and be practical.

“I want to rip him apart with my bare hands,” he blurted out after they stood in silence for a few minutes.

So much for practical.

“Who? That guy?”

He nodded.

“I don’t understand you, Evander.” She waved her hand dismissively. “You’re acting possessive and jealous. A few nights ago, it seemed you wanted me, but then you ignored me. You tell me it’s a rule but then stare at me and keep popping up everywhere I am. You’ve been sniffing around me like a hound dog on the trail for days. Either you want me, or you don’t; I don’t like these games. It’s very annoying, you know.”

“I know.”

“Then give me something, anything. Because the way I see it, you’ve now shoved two men away from me like you’ve staked your claim. But then you refuse to claim me.”

“I don’t have a good excuse.”

Ellie sighed and propped her elbow on the railing, her chin in her hand. She was waiting for an answer. He ran both hands down his face.

“I took a vow of celibacy, Ellie.” Blurting things out was new. Add that to his possessive behavior, his obsessive staring, and coming in seconds, and Ellie really should run screaming inside. At first, she looked like she would laugh, but her face sobered.

“What?”

“I took a vow of celibacy,” he repeated, and a range of emotions crossed her face.

“Are you a priest?”

Evander chuckled. “God, no.”

She massaged the bridge of her nose. “Then—what?”

“Not everyone vows celibacy,” he began. “But I did. I hate lying and knew I couldn’t lie or do it well. So, I vowed to refrain from—” He paused, his hand finding his hair again. “I’ve never had a problem before. I can be around and talk to women, but I’ve never desired anyone. Never anyone. Until you.”

Her fingers gripped the railing as she inhaled sharply.

“I am willing to risk everything for you, Ellie.”

The truth.

It wasn’t pretty or convenient, but there it was. Giving in wouldn’t end in just Athena’s anger but her wrath. Sleeping with Ellie was a betrayal. Of his vow. Of his position within Athena’s ranks. He had given his human life, his soul, over to Athena as penance. Changing his mind would never be an option.

“The tattoo? The letter.”

Oh she was clever . “Is a crest,” he said, not wanting to explain further.

“But you all have them. All four of you. And Liam is not refraining from sex.”

“Liam never made the vow.”

She nodded, understanding.

Brushing a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear, he stepped closer. His hand fell to the railing beside hers. It was her turn to scrub a hand through her mass of wild curls as she shyly peered at him.

“I’m not supposed to want this. Want you,” he confessed. “You’re right, I am jealous. I’ve tried to stay away, I thought that was best, but you are invading my every thought, every impulse corrupted. I can’t think straight. You—” he said, the words tumbling out. “You’re constantly making it hard for me to behave when I’m around you.”

He hated feeling this unsure of himself. Keeping his impulses in check for two centuries had never bothered him. But tonight looking at her in the blackness of a moonless night, all thoughts were on her lips, the soft sounds she made when she pressed them to his. All he could taste was her. Smell that scent of hers driving him mad. He shifted under her scrutinizing gaze.

“Please, say something,” he begged. Staring at her, he waited for an answer. Waited to hear her yell at him and storm off. He deserved it.

He felt her lips before he knew they were on his, like a whisper of acceptance. She pressed into him, letting out a soft sigh as she slid her mouth against his. He froze, not wanting to move, not wanting this to be all in his head.

Then she was gone.

“Oh god!” Ellie exclaimed. “I’m so sorry.” She touched her fingertips to her lips, eyes wide. Turning to leave, she brushed past him. Evander grabbed her and turned her around, her back hitting the railing.

“I’m not sorry.” His lips collided with hers, tugging her towards him, pressing her body as close as he dared, hungry for her. Wanting, for just a moment, to forget his vow, forget Athena’s wrath. Wanting to get lost in her eager response to him.

She broke the kiss.

He kept his eyes closed, his mouth still formed from their kiss, savoring her pressed against him. When he opened them, he was met with depths of desire mirroring his own. His fingers gripped the railing so tightly, he was sure he would crush it. He held on to the barrier to keep his hands occupied so they didn’t wander. Her lips found his.

Forceful and needy, her kiss burned through him like it had in her bed. Her hands found his shirt collar and held him in place. That intoxicating scent of wood smoke and citrus, coupled with her desperate sounds against his lips, became a heady mixture that coursed through his veins and set his blood on fire. She felt good pressed against him, like she was the last missing piece. Ellie broke their kiss.

“Take me to bed, Evander.”

He sucked in air as her teeth nipped at the underside of his chin. She kissed down his neck, around his ears, finding every sensitive spot to worship with her lips, throwing a match, and igniting the fire burning inside him. He had to stop this.

He didn’t remember reaching for her, didn’t feel his hands move until she was in them. One moment, he gripped the railing; the next, his hand involuntarily cupped her cheek. His gaze trailed the roundness of her face, studying her for a moment, just a moment, a fraction too long. His thumb swept along her swollen bottom lip, transfixed by her upturned face, half-covered in shadow, emotions running across. As his thumb grazed back along her full lip, Ellie reached out with the tip of her tongue, touching the pad.

Evander froze.

Her teeth gleamed white in the low light as they nipped the appendage. Those soft pink lips that tasted like tart pomegranates and alcohol, curled wickedly up at him. His heart stopped mid-pulse, overwhelming his senses, as she sucked the thick digit into those parted lips. Her tongue ran along the underside, teeth grazing the sides of his thumb. Held captive by the sensation, he couldn’t form words or think, his mind clouded by only one thing. Ellie’s gaze locked on his, holding him in place as her gray eyes turned smoky, pupils swallowing the pewter color. His breath came in gasps.

Her mouth released him. His thumb slid down her bottom lip, trailing wetness as it went, and came to rest on her chin. As she rose on her tiptoes, pulling him to her as her mouth brushed against the shell of his ear.

“I want to taste your cock.”

He choked on his breath. She came down from her toes, her hands running up his chest. He was harder than he had ever been in his life, painful, throbbing, and when she pressed her body to his, it was all he could do to keep from ruining his trousers. His head was swimming, and he couldn’t think straight.

She pushed him back; his steps stumbled slightly until his back met the wall with a soft thump. Her hands positioned at both edges of his face brought his lips to hers as she deepened their kiss. Her tongue slid along his, playing until he was driven mad with desire. He wanted her now, vow be damned. His need had him desperate to take her here and now, but he tamped down the beast that threatened to roar to life. Finally, sensibility won.

“Ellie.”

She mumbled something against his mouth.

“Ellie. Do you know what you’re doing?”

She tilted her head and bit into his chin. Evander groaned, but gently pushed her away. He tilted her head up. Her glossy eyes fixed themselves on him.

“You’ve had too much to drink. I can’t let you do something you’ll regret.”

She nodded, then began trying to unbutton his dress shirt, one slow button at a time. Untucking the hem, she had it opened, baring his chest and stomach to her. Her hands gliding along his chest sent lava coursing through his veins. She was kissing his jaw, his throat, his chest, her lips searing a fiery trail in their wake. She pressed herself closer to him and ground against his erection. Evander’s breath caught, and he inhaled sharply between his teeth. He grabbed her wrists with his metal hand.

“By the gods, as much as I want you to continue, I can’t let you, darling. Not like this.”

“You’re saying no?” she said louder than he was sure she meant to. Evander nodded. His nymph side was screaming to take her, begging to hear her scream his name, but he didn’t want her like this. He wanted her to remember every stroke, every touch.

“I’m not good enough, am I?”

“Ellie, that isn’t it.”

“You don’t want me. Just like he didn’t.” She backed away, but he caught her elbows, keeping her close.

“I want you. I want you so damn bad, but not like this. Not drunk. I don’t want you to regret . . .”

“Fuck you, Evander.” She spat out, wriggling out of his soft grip.

“Ellie.”

She was out of reach and moving quickly before he could catch her to bring her back. In a hurry, she turned and made her way back to the club. Music, noise, and voices poured out onto the deck when she opened the door. She gave him one last glance and disappeared inside.