The Wager- BBW Erotic Curvy Paranormal Romance (TOUCH OF THE GODS) (14 page)

By the time I made it to my destination, a valet came to the driver side and helped me from the car, snapping his fingers for a young, curly haired blond to take it away. The man who wrapped my arm around his, leading me into the extravagance of the restaurant, was more than handsome. I couldn't help but take in his features as he moved us effortlessly through the packed place.

At first glance, his hair came off as jet black, very much like Ares', but when the glint of candle light hit it, the hue was more of a purple. The bone structure of his face was perfection, and instead of being rugged and handsome, he was delicate.

If there was one way to describe him, I would say he was beautiful. To the point that one would think he was born of grace. A sudden image of a woman, being born from the sea came to my mind and if he had long blond hair and breasts, I'm sure he could be her twin.

Shaking my head, to clear it of the odd thought, it took me a moment to see we had stopped at a small, intimate table. The chair was already pulled out and he was peering down at me, waiting for me to seat. It was awkward to say the least, and I noticed from his height, he could easily see down my dress, which didn't help ease my embarrassment.

He chuckled as he sat me down and pushed in my seat, his voice deep and calm. “Do not fear, Vanessa. I’m only here to make sure you wait on Ares. Your waiter will be with you soon.”

              Despite the peaceful serenity that was his voice, it left me feeling a sense of dread and fear. Looking up into his eyes, coldness wrapped around me and the fear I felt, as I stared into their ice blue depths were enough to keep my night terrors alive and well.

Why would any place like this, hire a man like him? And how did he know my name? Had Ares told them I was coming? I wanted to believe his treatment of me was for a special cause, but my gut told me that I was in the presence of another god. Perhaps lesser, but by no means nicer. On his name tag, it read P. Hobos and I wondered what it stood for.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the chance to ask, as I was suddenly interrupted by a familiar squeal of delight and my nails automatically bit into my palm, as my parents approached my table. Of course, this was the place they were going to be.

My mother led as usual, her smile bright and cheery, and I couldn't help but respond in kind. Even at her age, Ginny Dramsmith was still the most beautiful woman I knew. My father, though he rarely showed emotions, believed so too. Her hair was reddish-brown, but graying at the temples in a graceful manner, while her blue eyes shimmered with that ‘cup half full’ mentality.

Tonight, I could see they were rimmed in red from the tears I had most likely caused, but as always, she never wanted us to know she cried. Leaning down, she grabbed my hand and kissed me on the cheek. “Oh baby, I didn't know you'd be here! How wonderful to finally see you. And your outfit is so—different!”

             
“If by different, you mean a disgrace to all eyes that see it!”My father piped in.

             
“Brian! Be nice. I'm sorry, Nessa, your Dad is having a rough day today. You know, with Graeme and all.”

             
Yes, my brother probably was up to something, and now I was adding to the worry that etched my father's face. Unlike Willa and Graeme, who took after Mom, with the exception of our hazel eyes, I was like my Dad, from his peppered brown hair to his stocky frame. We were the responsible ones in the family and I was the child he always counted on. Trying hard to adjust my dress and cover my skin was a fail, so I opted for slouching down and changing the subject instead. “So, how's Willa? I heard she lost her job.”

             
“Of course she did, Vanessa. You were the main reason for it!”Brian again interjected with disapproval.

             
There went changing the subject from me. My mother's eyes grew wide as my father stepped closer to the table, his cheeks mottled with anger and hurt, while his clenched fists trembled. All the ideas of things I wanted to say wouldn't change what I had done, and explaining would not work. How did one justify their behaviors while being led by mythical people, spells and curses? It just wasn't done!

             
“Where is this boy that you're seeing? This guy on the bike? I raised you better than this, Vanessa. What has happened to you? Where's my daughter?”

             
My heart broke as I choked back a sob. I wanted then and there to leave with them. But even though I could, just as Hephaestus told me to do, the very thought of separating myself from Ares was both terrifying and seemingly impossible. His hold was unlike any drug that existed in our world.

As though I conjured him up with my thoughts, the smoky aroma of his presence snaked around my soul. The devil had arrived.

Immediately, I stood to welcome him, my breath catching at how delicious he looked dressed up, a first for me to see.

Wearing black slacks, they might as well have been painted on him, considering the way they cupped his muscular thighs, buttocks and groin. Instead of wearing a blazer, like most of the male patrons, Ares wore a maroon dress shirt that strained under the wide expanse of his shoulders while accentuating his tapered waist. Over that, the black vest was tailored just for him, making his whole ensemble, and the way he strode towards us, a work of art.

Stopping before me, he ignored the gaping stares of my parents and jerked me against his body, before ravaging my mouth in a domineering kiss. I barely registered my mother's gasp, as his hands molded and squeezed my ass, sending waves of pleasure through my body until I was ready to burst.

I didn't get the chance of course, as my father wedged himself between us, and stared threateningly at the god. “Who the hell do you think you are, son? That's my daughter you’re disrespecting and this is a public place.”

              The dead tone of my father's voice told me he was beyond pissed, and though I should have been scared, it was the look on Ares' face that frightened me more. My heart pounded as he straightened, standing a full foot over my Dad and I prayed that he didn't kill him where he stood.

I had to give the older man credit though, he didn't back down, because no matter how upset he was at me, he would always protect me. Let’s just hope that protection didn't end him. Time ticked by slowly as they stared at each other, matching sneer for sneer, then by the grace of whomever, Ares broke out into loud, boisterous laughter.

Around us, several others most likely affected by his abilities, joined in his merriment, even my mother nervously giggled. The only one not making a sound was my father and when the god saw this, he sliced his hand through the air to silence them. With a deep, exaggerated sigh, he walked past my parents and took his seat, motioning for me to do the same. Once down, he pulled out his constant supply of cigars.

The waiter, who hadn't been there before, appeared to light it. Patiently, the young man waited for our order, which came after Ares took several puffs. “I'll have the surf and turf, but I want lobster and filet mignon. Baked potato on the side, a beer and chocolate cake for dessert. The lady will have a house salad with water.”

              The man nodded, grabbed our menus and whisked away to the kitchen.

I looked from my parents to Ares, wondering who would be the first to punch who. From the look on my father's face, I figured it was going to be him. Thankfully, my mother's hand was clenched around his arm, which meant he had to settle with talking.

              “She is capable of ordering her own food,” Brian growled.

             
“I'm sure she is, though she's never had time to do so around me. Her mouth is always busy, if you get what I mean,” Ares casually stated.

             
My father sputtered and choked at the vulgar statement, before taking a step forward in a threatening manner. A calm man, usually, I had never seen him so furious and feared that he would lose control of his inner emotions and let loose on the War God. I didn't want to lose my Dad because he was standing up for my honor, I didn't deserve it.

Ares ignored them both, puffing away on his cigar.

              Before I could say something to deter the situation, my mother placed a gentle hand on his chest in a way that looked as though she was using her own body's energy to center and ground him.  “Brian, maybe we should get back to our table and leave Nessa to enjoy her date. I'm certain she'll speak with us later.” My mother looked at me with eyes that said she wasn't asking,

  I nodded, swallowing because it was a first that she used that kind of tone with any of her children. I was in serious trouble.

Still holding my Dad’s arm, my mother steered him back to their seats and the air finally seemed a little less filled with tension.

Only minutes later, did our food arrive and eating in silence, I waited to find out what he wanted from me to make right my wrong. The salad was large, thankfully, but with my anxiety I mostly picked at it, while he devoured his own plate. Part of me wondered if this was the way he ate in the halls of Olympus, which made me wonder what his immortal home looked like. Timidly, I spoke, broaching the subject as if it were a normal question of mortal curiosity. “I've always been fascinated with all things Greek, you know? It must be fabulous living in Olympus.”

              “It's okay. I enjoy toying with the humans from there.” His words were muffled as he spoke with a mouth full of lobster.

His words didn't comfort me. Was that how the gods saw us? Did Hephaestus see me that way? The voice in my mind told me no, but it still made me wonder. He did commit to a bet to get me, despite saying he loved me and all. He was no different—right? What also made no sense to me was why I was thinking about my ruggedly, handsome neighbor when I was on a date with his brother and trying to appease his ire with me.

With a deep sigh, I pushed my meager meal away and watched him finish off his beer, food, and chocolate cake, salivating at the sinful dessert. I really wanted some cake and would bet my left foot that Hephaestus would allow me to eat it.
Stop it, Vanessa! Get him out of your head!
If only it were that easy.

“Are you ready to make me happy?”

              Ares' voice interrupted my warring thoughts, his voice caressing me like the touch of a lover. A lover I really wanted inside me once again.

             
“Yes! What must I do?”

             
Tilting his head, he directed my attention to the restrooms. “Go in there lady's room and wait for me.”

             
I wanted to know why, but remembered what happened the last time I questioned him and didn't want a repeat nightmare vision. Instead, I kept my gaze down, as not to accidentally make eye contact with my parents, and headed straight for the women's bathroom where I waited patiently for him to join me. Fidgeting with my dress, I coyly smiled at a woman as she came out of stall and washed her hands.

When she saw me from the mirror, she jerked her thumb at the one she’d just come from. “It's clean and working.”

              “Oh, thanks. I'm—I'll go when it's clear. Shy bladder.”

             
She shrugged, drying her hands and left me alone in the vacant, eerily quiet restroom.

As time ticked by, I began wondering if he forgotten me. Once more, I tried readjusting my outfit, but neither pulling nor tugging made it any better.

A wave of heat encompassed the sterile room and shrank down until standing before me, the vest gone and shirt opened, was Ares. His eyes blazed with raw hunger which soaked through my skin and saturated my entire being with blood pumping lust. I licked my lips and stared as he walked closer to me, his body a symphony of motion until he pressed me back against the cold tiles of the wall.

His sure hands gripped the bottom of the leather dress and hiked it up to my waist, while an unseen force pulled down the top, exposing my breast to his sultry gaze. “Open your legs, sklávos and prepare to scream.” With a hand under my left knee, he lifted me up onto the sink next to me, which opened me to whatever he had planned. He then, pulled his heavy, veined cock and positioned it at the entrance of my wet pussy.

My breath lodged in throat. Surely he wouldn't! But it was obvious he was going to, and as Ares dipped his head to suck my nipple into his mouth, he dug his fingers into my hips and pushed his way inside me with a force that would leave bruises in the morning. Swiveling his hips, Ares crammed me full of his meatiness and the pain filled pleasure it created drew a moan from me that echoed in the small space.

He lavished my breasts equally, switching from deep suction to stinging nibbles that left every nerve awakened and on fire. Perhaps, it was his godly powers, but my own body became an inferno of arousal. His movements were stilled while he licked along the column of my neck, and up to my ear, finding a fleshy spot to tug between his teeth, while an electrified jolt coursed down my spine. An explosion of juice flowed around where we were joined, until my vaginal cup overflowed and spilled down my thighs.

              The scent of our musk tickled my nose and I watched his own nostrils flare before he finally pulled back, in a slow, calculated manner and met my eyes. They burned me up with their intensity, and within the span of a single heartbeat, Ares plunged even further than the last thrust, driving a scream from my throat loud enough that I knew all outside the bathroom doors heard. Moving up to look me dead on, he picked up a steady rhythm, each solid stroke digging deeper and harder, my moans growing louder.