How to Worship a Goddess (3 page)

He did wish she'd look at him, though. Except for that one glance before she'd started singing, she hadn't acknowledged his presence during the entire forty-five-minute set. He didn't know if that was deliberate or because he was on the other side of the room, but he was beginning to think she was ignoring him.

And it pissed him off.

He wanted her to acknowledge him, which made absolutely no sense, considering they'd never met. He wanted to stalk up there, throw her over his shoulder, and head for the nearest bedroom. Christ, he needed to get a grip.

“Thank you all for coming tonight.” Lucy's voice snapped Brand's attention back to the stage as the object of his desire stood and addressed the crowd. “Caeles and I are going to take a break but we'll be back a little later.”

Her adoring fans stood and applauded. Reverently. No foot stomping or whooping, just a wall-shaking applause that made her smile from ear to ear. A heart-stopping, earth-shattering smile that made his knees weak and his gut clench.

Christ, what was it about this woman that made him hot, horny, and hard in seconds?

Stepping off the stage, she walked through the crowd, stopping to shake hands or touch shoulders, say a few words. She didn't stop for long, though, and it became clear she was making her way across the room to the bar. To him.

His palms sweaty, he waited for what seemed like forever for her to get to him. Just before she reached him, his mother's manners kicked in and he slid off the stool to stand.

She was smaller than he'd thought, the top of her head not reaching his shoulders. And her eyes were a beautiful light blue, so pale they looked gray. The color of clouds at night.

“Hello, Brandon. Welcome to Howling Moon. I'm Lucy Aster.”

He held out his hand and felt hers slide into place. Her skin warmed against his as her smile grew. And Brand knew, just from that look, that she wanted him, too. His night was looking up.

“I enjoyed your set. Your voice is phenomenal.”

Sliding onto the stool next to his, she nodded to the bartender before turning back to him. Her smile hit him like a ton of bricks in the chest, making him struggle for every breath.

“Thank you.” Damned if that sultry voice didn't make him want to lick her from head to toe. “I'm so pleased when others receive enjoyment from listening to it. I am surprised to see you here tonight, though. You had a game tonight. And another tomorrow with Trenton, don't you?”

He laughed and took a sip of his beer. “Are you trying to tell me I should be home in bed?”

So much heat filled the look she gave him, he swore the beer in his hand would boil over. “I would never presume to do that. You're a grown man. I'm sure you know when bedtime is.”

Her smile led him to believe it was her bed he should be in. And not to sleep.

An image of Lucy naked on a moonlit bed popped into his head, arms open, beckoning to him. He had to blink it away before she realized what he was thinking. Of course, if the look on her face was any indication, she already knew. And welcomed it.

“But I am curious how you found my place. It's a little… out of the way.”

And there again, he got the sense that she wasn't exactly happy he'd found her. “Would you think I'm a nut job if I told you I went to the courthouse to track down your name?”

Her gaze narrowed as the start of a smile lifted the corners of her beautiful mouth. “You checked out the address on my season ticket application?”

“Yeah, I did. And found out it was bogus. But I wanted to meet you and when I want something, I don't stop till I get it.”

Her head cocked to the side. “Why go to so much trouble to track me down?”

Because
you
invade
my
dreams
and
drive
me
crazy
with
lust?

Probably not what she wanted to hear. “I think you're beautiful and I wanted to meet you.”

There was that smile again, the one that made the bottom fall out of his stomach. The one that grabbed hold of his balls and squeezed.

“Then I guess I can't be mad, can I? Because I must admit I'm glad you're here.”

So can we get the hell out of here to somewhere more private?
was on the tip of his tongue but he managed not to embarrass himself by blurting that out. He wasn't a real smooth talker, not like some of the guys on the team, but he did have enough sense and years on him to know what
not
to say to a woman.

And this was a woman unlike any he'd ever met. So confident, so in charge.

Sure, they were sitting in a bar, but she was the owner. And this was no dive. The wood floors gleamed, as did the bar, and the glass mugs were clean. It didn't smell of smoke or grease, but there was an underlying scent of something musky, kind of like the forest in spring, woody and fresh.

“Do you sing every night?” He finally managed to form a coherent sentence.

She shook her head. “Not every night, but several times a week.”

“I'm glad I got to hear you. You do a decent business.” It was Friday and nearly all the seats in the place were taken; decent was an understatement.

“I'm blessed with loyal customers.”

“I'm kind of surprised you do so well out here. It was hard to find.”

She laughed and he swore everyone in the place stopped what they were doing to listen. He completely understood. That husky, sexy, purring laugh made every part of his body strain toward her. He had his hand on her arm, his thumb stroking the fast-beating pulse at her wrist, before he realized he'd moved.

“Yes, it is hard to find.” Her gaze met and held his and the heat began to build into an inferno. If he wasn't careful, he was going to kiss her and he had a feeling every male in the place would jump him for daring to. “But you managed just fine. How is that?”

Her voice held an undercurrent of something he couldn't put his finger on, something a little dangerous. “I have a great sense of direction. And a GPS unit in my truck.”

“I suppose that would do it, wouldn't it?” Taking a sip of her beer, Lucy swallowed, and Brand found his gaze drawn to her throat. Her skin was such a pale cream against her dark hair. The sight mesmerized him. Damn, he wanted to grab her and pull her close so he could lick her neck.

“So, Brandon, how late are you allowed to stay out and play tonight before you have to get home to bed?”

He cleared his throat and took a sip. The only bed he wanted to be in right now was hers. “I've got a few hours yet. I'm not
that
old.”

She laughed, a quiet exhalation of air. “I didn't mean to imply that you were. I guess that was my sloppy way of asking if you can stay for a while. I have another set to perform but I'd love to talk to you some more afterward.”

Hot damn. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. “I can stay however long you want me to.”

“Good.” She wasn't smiling now but her eyes glowed with promise. “Because I might want you to stay all night.”

Chapter 3

Brandon's expression made Lucy light up inside.

He looked pole-axed and lust-struck at the same time.

She hadn't meant to be so blatant, hadn't planned to lay her cards on the table so fast. But she'd been lusting after this man for almost two years, since the first time she'd seen him skate onto the ice.

She'd denied her need of him for what seemed like forever but she'd been denying other, darker needs for so much longer. Decades. Centuries. She'd denied them to take care of her sons and her
lucani
. So worried that the mistakes of the past would bite her on the ass.

But even a goddess deserved to reward herself every now and then, didn't she? And Brandon looked like the kind of man who could give her what she needed.

“I'll stay as long as you want,” he said, his gaze warming to molten hot. Then he blinked, as if realizing the implication of what he'd said, and he turned the conversation back to safe ground. “So, where are you from, Lucy?”

Well, not really safe. The question was one she couldn't answer truthfully. But she gave him as much of the truth as she could. “I'm originally from Italy but moved to the States several”—
hundred
—“years ago. I never really settled in one place until I bought this property about ten years ago.”

“Was the bar already here?”

“No, I converted the first floor myself. Took about a year, but I did most of the work with the help of friends.”

His gaze left hers to travel around the room. “You've got talented friends. It's beautiful. The acoustics are perfect. You don't need a sound system.”

She smiled. “Yes, my friends are rather remarkable.” More so than he would ever know. “What about you, Brandon? Do you like playing in Reading?”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” He eased back a little, as if getting comfortable. His smile… Blessed Goddess, that smile. “I get along well with the coach and the team. And the fans are great. We're having a good year and that always helps.”

“You've played all your life, haven't you?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I've been to the NHL a few times, played AHL mostly. Got hurt year before last and decided to take the assistant coach position here so I could play, too.”

“You're very good.”

His smile broadened, setting off a firestorm of lust in her blood. “If I were really good, I would've had a career in the NHL instead of bouncing all the hell over the place.” He shrugged, not looking like he had any regrets. “But I like to play and it leaves my summers open to help my parents with their place in Maine.”

“What do they do?”

“They run a bar.”

She let out a little laugh. “Really?” Sometimes the world worked in mysterious ways. “Something else we have in common. Besides hockey, of course.”

“Have you always been a fan?”

“Oh, yes. I was thrilled when they built the arena. I love the game. The men are big and brawny. They swear, they sweat, and they don't back down from a fight. What's not to love?”

His smile set sparks glowing in her blood. “A woman who gets it. Where have you been all my life?”

If he only knew. “I guess I've been waiting.” She may actually have been waiting for him. The thought made her pause for a brief second. “I have another set to perform. Will you be here when I'm through?”

His gaze never left hers. “Absolutely.”

***

By the time the bar cleared out around 1:00 a.m., Brand thought maybe he'd regressed back to his teenage years.

He'd had a hard-on all night. His throat felt like sandpaper and his heart pounded like he'd just finished a half hour of sprints.

Her last set had been in Italian. Well, he was pretty sure it was Italian, though there were a few times he was pretty sure it wasn't. But it might have been Latin. Whatever language it was, she sang it beautifully. And the kid accompanying her on guitar should've been playing arenas to sold-out crowds. Brand didn't move the entire forty-five minutes of the last set.

When she finished the last note, the crowd got to their feet and gave her a several-minute standing ovation.

So did he.

With a smile, she stepped off the stage and made the rounds again, this time as everyone in the bar made their way out the front door. She acknowledged everyone by name as they approached her to say how much they'd enjoyed the show and to say good night.

And he could have sworn some of them bowed or curtsied. Weird.

When all the guests but Brand had gone, she walked to the opposite end of the bar and spoke to the bartender for a minute. Brand couldn't hear a word and his hearing was pretty damn good.

After a few seconds, the guy nodded but the look he shot Brand was a warning. The woman obviously inspired loyalty from her employees. Brand returned the guy's gaze until the bartender disappeared into the back room.

Then he looked at Lucy and found her watching him with a sexy half grin that made his blood flow like lava through his veins.

“Did you enjoy the second set?”

She accompanied the question with a little tilt of her head and he watched, spellbound, as one midnight-silk curl slipped over her shoulder to curve around her full breast.

Damn, he was going to spontaneously combust if he didn't watch out. Not that that would be a bad thing, but he didn't want to come off as too eager and scare her away.

He was sorry to say it'd happened before. He weighed over two hundred pounds and was built to take more than a few hits. Luckily, he still had all his teeth but his nose had been broken a few times and showed it.

His hands were chapped and rough and he knew his shoulder had probably turned about five shades of purple by now. Still, he'd never had much trouble picking up a woman when he wanted one. And he wanted this one.

“I did, though I couldn't understand most of it. Italian?”

Her lips curved a little higher. “Some, yes. And a little Latin.”

He expected her to go on but she stopped, as if waiting for him. To what? He felt like he was missing something.

“Do you have classical training?”

Now her smile broadened into a full-blown grin. “Yes, you could say that. Would you like another drink?”

He glanced down at the tumbler on the bar in front of him and realized he couldn't remember finishing it. He'd been that engrossed in her performance. “Yeah, sure. It's a—”

“Seven and Seven.” She moved behind the bar, mixing his drink with deft hands. She placed it on the bar. “A good bartender always knows what her customers are drinking.”

He smiled and he swore he could smell her arousal. “My dad has the same saying.”

“Your dad sounds like a smart man.”

“He is. The bar's been in the family for almost sixty years.”

“So, Brandon, would you like to come upstairs?”

Oh, hell, yeah. I will follow you anywhere.

Instead he nodded, swallowed and said, “Sure, I'd love to.”

Motioning for him to come around the bar, she led him through the spotless kitchen to a narrow staircase.

As he followed her up, he was damn lucky he didn't trip and fall back down the stairs. The ceiling was so close to his head, he felt he had to hunch. Which meant he was staring right at her ass.

She had a great ass. Hell, she had a great body. Even a step above him she was shorter, but she packed a lot of curves into so little real estate.

By the time they reached the second floor, the erection he thought he'd controlled returned with a vengeance. Luckily, she didn't turn to look at him but continued across the room.

It took him a second to notice his surroundings, but when he did, the sight made him stop and gape. Moonlight poured in through the two solid walls of windows, illuminating the room.

Lucy flicked a switch on the wall, and the faint light from recessed fixtures in the ceiling made the other two pale gray walls shimmer with the opalescent sheen of mother-of-pearl. Nothing hung on the walls, no art, no photos. Thick crown molding that reminded him of waves was the only decoration.

In the center of the room, six chaise lounges upholstered in a pale gray material formed a loose circle. In the center of the circle sat a pair of low, bleached wood tables elaborately carved with trees and flowers and animals.

No, not animals. Wolves. Howling with their snouts pointed upward or running, long and sleek. Beautiful.

Lucy moved to stand before a huge, ornately decorated buffet that matched the tables. Opening the doors on the front of the piece, she pulled out an old-fashioned bottle of Coke and twisted the metal cap off.

He watched as she lifted the bottle to her mouth, then followed the line of her throat. He drew closer without realizing he'd done it and, when she turned, he was only inches away.

Not startled at all, she smiled into his eyes. He was damn lucky he didn't drop the heavy crystal glass in his own hand. That look fried the synapses between his brain and his mouth, rendering him mute. And really, what did he have to say? Probably would've embarrassed himself, anyway.

So he took a sip of his drink and let her lead him back to the chaises. She sat on one, lifting her legs and draping her body on the thing like she was setting up for a photo op. He would have thought she was trying to pose for him, but she looked completely comfortable, as if this was how she sat all the time. And considering it was her house, she probably did.

He debated sitting next to her, but she hadn't asked, and his mother hadn't raised a fool. He took the chaise opposite so he could stare at her.

And damn, she made terrific eye candy.

But they couldn't just sit there and stare at each other all night. “You've really got a great voice.”

She smiled. “I've been singing for… more years than I care to admit. I'm fortunate enough to be able to indulge myself at the bar.”

“You never wanted to make a career of it? 'Cause you certainly have the talent.”

“Thank you, Brandon, but no, that path wasn't in the cards for me. I enjoy singing but I can't give it my full attention. The bar takes up much of my time.”

He got the sense there was more to the story. “Just the bar? No family?” He didn't ask about another man.

Her pale gaze grew intense. “Many good friends. But no mate or lover at the moment.”

His brain stumbled over her use of the word mate instead of husband but his body only recognized the fact that no man had a claim on her. It was all he needed to hear. Leaning forward, he set his glass on the table in front of him and stood. She tilted her head back, her gaze following his every move as she, too, set her glass aside. He watched her draw in a deep breath, her lips parting as if she was having trouble getting enough air.

Good. He was having a damn hard time breathing through the lust. He hoped like hell she was having the same reaction to him.

When he reached for her, she moved into his arms and he lifted her easily against his body. He swore she weighed less than his gear bag.

Her hands threaded through his hair a second before his mouth covered hers, sending a jolt of lust through his body as they molded together from knee to chest. Free of a bra, her breasts flattened, nipples already tight and pointed. Her slim hips tilted into his body, catching the tip of his cock as she rubbed against him with maddening pressure.

She opened immediately to the thrust of his tongue, and he slid into her warm mouth, flicking at her tongue, encouraging her to tangle with him. Slanting her head to the side, she opened farther for him.

Damn, she tasted great, like hot, sweet honey. He wanted to consume her, to mark her. Make her his. His inner caveman pounded his chest, wanting to take her to the ground and fuck her senseless.

His knees actually bent in preparation, but he came to his senses a second later. Christ, he wasn't a green kid anymore. Somewhere in this house was a bed. But first, he needed to slow down. Enjoy the moment. He hoped like hell that he wound up in her bed soon enough. And if she didn't let it go that far, no problem. He'd deal.

But he'd probably have a better damn chance of making it all the way to her bedroom if he made her beg for it first.

Fuck it all, he wanted her to beg.

Concentrating on their kiss, he indulged in the silky feel of her lips, warm and clingy as they moved against his. He pulled his tongue back and let her play with him, moving one arm under her ass to hold her so he had one hand free to do… whatever.

For now, he let it rest on her hip as she licked at him with delicate flicks of her tongue, fanning an already red-hot lust.

That delicate little tongue stroked until he was panting and he couldn't remain passive any longer. He let his hand drift up her back then down again, the smooth velvet of her dress warming to his touch. So soft, but he knew her skin would be even softer.

Shifting against him, she moaned as she rocked her hips in a motion that made his cock stiffen in anticipation. More. He needed to touch her, to feel her skin against his.

His hand slid under her hair until he felt the warmth of her nape bared by her dress. Softer than the dress, her skin forced a groan from him.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he strung a line of kisses from her cheek to her neck, where he couldn't help himself. He opened his mouth on the pulse beating furiously at the base of her throat.

Her scent made him want to lick her, so he did. A long swipe of his tongue that coaxed a shiver from her. Her hands tightened in his hair, the slight pain cranking his lust into high gear.

He felt his body heat rising, burning, searing. He wanted to devour her right here. Throw her on the floor and ravage her. Hell, the chaise lounges were too civilized for what he wanted to do to her.

And that should be a warning, he realized.

Slow
down.

How could he when her every motion made him drunk with lust? He wanted to bite her and he meant really fucking bite her until he left a mark on her skin to show everyone whose she was. Christ, when the hell had he turned into an animal?