Desperate Housewives of Olympus (2 page)

BOOK: Desperate Housewives of Olympus
8.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She’d talk to the realtor in the morning and get the blue fuck out of Dodge. Or maybe that’s where she would move
to
. Dodge City, Kansas. Yep. She could buy a nice little tract home, have a garden. Even though she wouldn’t eat whatever she grew, it would give her something to do. And she could give it to the homeless. That was self-sacrificing. Legend had it that if she sacrificed,
abstained
for long enough, she could free her family line from the curse that demanded one of them serve as Abstinence. That certainly wouldn’t happen if she opened the door and let tall, blond and hot inside.

He rung the bell without letting go of his package and Abstinence had to wonder if it was
his
package
ringing the bell. Goddess, she had to get her mind back to business and not on him. Otherwise she’d fail her first test and then her sister or one of her nieces would be stuck with this shit-ass gig.

Over her dead body, no pun intended.

When she didn’t answer the door, he simply teleported inside. Yeah, that wasn’t creepy at all.

“Hi, I’m the welcoming committee,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“I gathered.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Did you? Then why didn’t you let me in?” Zeus asked boldly.

“Because I know better?”

“Do you, now? And who may I thank for your education?” He raised a golden brow.

“Yourself, of course.”

“How’s that?” He put the basket down on her foyer.

“Your exploits are legendary.”

“My exploits?” he parroted while he picked through the welcome basket he’d brought her and emptied it on her foyer table.

“Ah, classic signs of deflection. Repeat the question to give the brain time to work to come up with a good lie. Really, you immortals aren’t so different from humans.”

“Now I’m insulted.” He obviously wasn’t. Zeus was still going about his task as if she hadn’t already told him she’d be interested when purple harpies flew out of his ass.

“Then why are you still standing here?”

“I see sweet words and gifts are not the way to get between those bony little thighs.” Still unfazed, but now he almost seemed more interested.

Wait, what? No. She was not! “Bony?” She stomped her foot. “I’m
slender
. Not bony, thank you very much.”

“Nope, I do believe you’re bony,” he replied with unabashed glee. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I like to mix it up a bit. Can’t have steak for dinner every night, can I? I think you’d be like crab.”

“Excuse me?” She blinked like a night animal that had been struck in the face with a searchlight. Had he just compared her to seafood? At least it wasn’t tuna. Then there was the STD comparison and she didn’t care for that at all.

“Yeah, there’s not much meat to them and you have to work like a dog for what you do get, but when it’s finally on your tongue, it’s so tender and delectable you can’t get enough.”

“It’s obvious that you think that was a compliment, but the image I get is me with my legs broken apart so you can suck the marrow from inside.”

“And what sweet marrow it would be, between those legs.”

Abstinence found herself with her back up against the wall and his strong hands kneading up her thigh. She shoved at his chest to put some space between them.

“Tell me, oh King of Gods, does this sort of garbage actually get you laid?” It must work because he kept doing it, but his behavior bordered on needing to watch a No Means No PSA. She couldn’t believe he’d spoken to her to crudely.

He spluttered and looked like he was going to choke on his own tongue and he stepped back.

That was much better. “Hey, just because I’m Abstinence doesn’t mean I’m a dumbass, okay? I wouldn’t have gone home with you
before
I was a goddess. Does that tell you anything?”

He recovered quickly. “Yeah, that you don’t know a good thing when you see it.”

She rolled her eyes. Abstinence knew a good thing when she saw it and Zeus wasn’t it. She even doubted he was a good lover because he was so selfish in all of the other aspects of his existence. There was no reason for her to expect he’d be any different in bed. Unless of course, it was a vanity thing. Even then, she could imagine him getting distracted by a dresser mirror so he’d be watching himself instead of his partner. The story of Narcissus came to mind and wondered what would happen if the gods turned that sort of judgment on themselves.

“Did you have any other reason for violating the sanctuary of my temple or was it simply to get a piece of the new meat?” Abstinence hoped he got to the point, she could say no and then he could leave—all nice and tidy.

“I brought you a gift.” This was said as if it would somehow entice her.

“Meant to get in my pants.” She rolled her eyes again. By the time this visit was over she imagined her head would feel like a pinball machine from the frequency with which his male petard inspired her to roll her eyes.

“That’s always an option, but no, it wasn’t only to give you a mustache ride. We do have quite a sense of community here on Olympus. It’s a good place for immortals to raise their children or to live a quiet life, insulated from the mortal world. Although, we have made the move to modern technology. The wife does love her gadgets. Anyway, think of Olympus as the ultimate gated community.” He looked very proud of himself.

“So far, I find security to be lacking.” Abstinence looked pointedly at the door and then back at him. She wondered if they had some version of Brinks or ADT to keep out unwanted gods who thought it was okay to teleport wherever they chose.

She had this horrible imagery in her head of being in the john and having him teleport in on her in the middle of the deed. Which was stupid, because Abstinence didn’t eat, so she didn’t need those sort of facilities. Therefore, he wouldn’t be catching her mid-deed. She rather imagined it was like the nightmare where she thought she’d gone to school naked.

“Oh, that.” He had the good grace to look a tiny bit bashful. “Honestly, I thought you simply didn’t hear my knock. If I promise not to do it again, will you forgive me?” Zeus smiled and his dimples gave him a boyish look that was almost impossible to resist.

So that was how he did it—how he inspired everything with an X chromosome to fall over ready to submit to his will. (She’d heard the stories about his legendary conquests that really couldn’t be described as XX or XY.)

She found herself smiling back at him, even though she’d been convinced only moments before she’d rather gargle broken glass than give the libertine that much. He was good. Too good and way out of her league. He’d have her on her back in a month. Too bad she couldn’t invoke herself, for herself.

Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Abstinence smiled again. “I suppose I could forgive you this time.” What had just come out of her mouth? Get the hell out would have more appropriate than this smarmy flirting. Was she possessed?

“How about a little sip of ambrosia wine?” The cork was out of the bottle and he held two crystal glasses in his hands. “My apology,” he said by way of explanation.

“I’m afraid I must abstain.”

“You will be abstaining. See, I offered you a full glass. If you decline and only have a sip, you’ve still abstained, but indulged at the same time. Very epicurean.” He promised all of this like a car salesman trying to get her to sign on the bottom line before she read the contract too closely. Yet, he was still somehow likable.

The scary part of it was that his reasoning did make a certain sense. She wondered if she weren’t on Mt. Olympus at all, but lunching in Hell with the Devil. Abstinence took a small sip of the wine and when it touched her tongue, it was like dipping the edge of a papyrus in water. It was absorbed so quickly through her tongue and burst in bright energy through her body. She wanted more.

But that was her curse. She always wanted more of everything. More taste, more touch, more scent, more, more, always more. Abstinence would have taken another drink when he plucked the glass from her thin fingers.

“Wouldn’t want you to glut instead of abstaining. Never let it be said I led you from the path of righteousness.” He smirked.

“No, never that.” Her eyes rolled of their own volition and she was starting to get dizzy.

“I’ve never met a woman as unimpressed as you seem to be. Or is it all an act simply to make me desire you more?” Zeus asked.

“I don’t want to be desired.” Liar. “I’m new, so it’s like finding a new restaurant. After you get bad customer service a few times you’ll be back to your old favorites in no time.”

“Why is sex always likened to food? Have an answer for me next time I visit and I won’t seduce you.” Zeus grinned and disappeared.

How rude. He disappeared before she could retort. Not that she cared. She had nothing to say to the god. Poor Hera. How did she deal with him? Abstinence still saw things through mortal eyes and felt them with a mortal heart.

If her husband had ever treated her like Zeus treated Hera, it would have shattered her heart time and time again. The sex couldn’t be
that
good, could it? Or maybe Hera wasn’t even sleeping with him anymore. Was there such a thing as the immortal clap?

PERSEPHONE

 

Oh. My. Gods. If she had to listen to her mother blasting White Snake’s
Here I Go Again
just one more time, Persephone was going to smother the goddess in her sleep. It made it impossible for her to angst out to
Resurrection
by His Infernal Majesty. Ville Vallo’s vocals made her think of Hades in all of his dark, tortured and misunderstood beauty.

She’d been devastated when he released her from the curse that demanded she spend the winter months with him in the underworld. He’d said he was letting her go because he loved her enough to want her to be happy. Persephone remembered his hands in her hair, the hard slash of his mouth crashing into hers and that moment with his fingers between her thighs when the universe had stopped still while galaxies exploded for her. She’d been so afraid of him at first; his broad shoulders, his eyes with their curious flames, the strength that thrummed through him like the pulse of eternity. She’d been sure his hands on her would have been like the Kraken trying to hold a butterfly, but his touch had been tender, considerate. He’d waited for her to say yes to all the things he wanted from her, but she’d been too afraid.

Persephone remembered those nights in his four poster bed, dragons and gargoyles intertwined; carved in stark relief. She remembered the solid length of his body and how he’d held her so gently against him, even with his cock hard against her belly. Still, he’d not rushed her to give him anything she hadn’t been ready for.

Now, she wished he had. She wished she’d spread her thighs for him and loved him as a grown goddess should. He’d still be hers and she’d be in his arms, in his house and she would be his forever instead of rotting topside with her over-protective yet somehow still self-indulgent mother, Demeter.

Demeter who demanded her daughter’s purity, demanded her devotion and commanded every aspect of every breath she’d ever drawn. That wasn’t love. If she’d loved her, she would have seen how happy she’d been with Hades. Sure, maybe it had been a little bit of Stockholm Syndrome at first, but that wasn’t something one could build eternity on. Persephone
wanted
Hades. She wanted his hands, his mouth, his body and his soul.

Where Demeter got off handing down her edicts like she was in charge of something besides Spring, Persephone didn’t know. She couldn’t even sustain her own relationships without being needy and grasping. Everyone left her, even her human devotees eventually moved on when they realized she did nothing but take. Zeus had kicked her to the curb pretty early on for that kind of behavior.

She cranked the volume on her iPod. “Goddess, Mother! The 80’s are dead. Let them rest in peace.” Persephone slammed her door so hard the entire temple shook. Her mother never even acknowledged the door slam anymore. It used to piss her off proper. And that made Persephone even more angry. She had no way to vent her frustrations, or engage in normal youthful rebellion. Oh no, she couldn’t do that because then her mother would get her thong in a knot and plunge the world into eternal winter.

It was bullshit.

Maybe Zeus would help her. He was technically her father. Not in the Odin All-Father way, (though, from the rumors, he took that title way too seriously as well) but in the biological way.

Yes, technically that made Hades her uncle, but it didn’t work that way with gods and goddesses. They were all related in one way or another anyway, this one or that one leaping from Zeus’ head, or his foot… she wondered if any of his children had ever been spawned from a hemorrhoid. They’d come from every other part imaginable; his tears, his fingernails. That would be something to worry about: having another mouth to feed every time wind was broken, as Eros was fond of saying.

Eros, the God of Love, was also on the list of unsavory company as far as her mother was concerned, but that didn’t stop her from sneaking out to the garden to talk with him every night. Yes, he was handsome, but contrary to her mother’s beliefs, not everything male would try to get into her chastity belt. (Her mother would have a stroke if she knew Persephone had figured out how to get the damn thing off and had been sans belt for sometime.)

Granted, he read her poetry of the most salacious sort, but he used the poems to amplify the magic of his arrows. She gave a satisfied smirk when she imagined the look on her mother’s face if she discovered that Persephone not only knew what the word fellatio meant, but that she could rhyme it with six other words that meant the same thing.

She frowned. Persephone was more than millennia old and she still had to hide things from her mother like she was some kind of mortal school girl hiding her cigarettes under the bed. Although, Persephone wasn’t permitted to go through a rebellious stage like every other creature in the universe, no. Because if she did, her mother threw the kind of fit that could end human existence and while the gods were loathe to admit it, they needed the mortals and if not their belief, the energy from the stories they told about them to keep them alive.

Other books

Recklessly by A.J. Sand
Right Place, Wrong Time by Judith Arnold
Por qué no soy cristiano by Bertrand Russell
Nurse Trent's Children by Joyce Dingwell
Wickedly Dangerous by Deborah Blake
Rexanne Becnel by When Lightning Strikes
Red Phoenix by Kylie Chan
Assignment - Budapest by Edward S. Aarons