Apollo (Contemporary Mythos Book 2)
Apollo: Chapter 14

I sat on my couch, eating cookies ‘n’ cream ice cream straight from the carton. Roy called me when I drove home last night, asking about my shin splints. I lied and told him it still hurt, and he encouraged me to take an extra day off. Usually, I’d feel horrible for lying, but I needed the time to clear my head. Given the sinking realization I’d danced with, kissed, and thrown insults at a Greek god, there was no way I could concentrate on rehearsal today.

There was a knock at the door, and I let the spoon flop in the carton. I didn’t budge at first—even contemplated pretending I wasn’t home. Sighing, I walked to the door and yanked it open. Ace leaned on the doorframe with one arm. He wore a tan suede jacket with a white T-shirt underneath. His hair pulled back in a bun, and his blue eyes gave me that sexy squint.

“Hey.” He twirled one of his rings with a thumb.

I twisted the doorknob back and forth. “Hi.”

“Can I come in?”

In? To my apartment?

“Uh…sure.” I stepped aside.

He walked in, shoving his hands in his front jean pockets. “Remember that favor you owe me?”

My stomach twisted into knots as I closed the door, pressing my forehead against it before turning to face him. “You really think now’s the right time to call it in?”

“Honestly.” He leaned forward. “I think now is the best time.”

“And what is the favor?”

“I want to take you somewhere. The favor is you coming with me and keeping an open mind.”

Where exactly did he want to take me? Mount Olympus?

“That’s it? Just go somewhere with you?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s not exactly right down the road.”

“Where is it?” My pulse sped up.

He stepped closer and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I know I don’t have the greatest track record lately, but this is where I need you to trust me. Can you do that? Even a little?”

“Yes?” I elongated the “e.”

“Close your eyes.”

I closed them both and then peeked out the corner of one.

“Laurel.” He half-smiled.

I thinned my lips. “Fine.” Pinching my eyes shut, I felt his arm snake around my waist.

There was a gust of wind, sending my hair flying behind me. My stomach gurgled with nausea, and for a moment, the floor felt weightless.

“You can open your eyes now,” he whispered in my ear.

We stood in the middle of a vast room filled with statues and artwork. The floors had geometric shapes carved out of marble, a high ceiling covered with art, a framed painting of a man grabbing for a woman entangled with tree branches, a cherub flying above them, in the center. Corinthian columns bordered the room, colors of vibrant yellow, gold, and various shades of brown. Aside from us, it was empty and silent.

“Where are we?” I asked, my heart racing.

Ace rubbed the underside of his bottom lip with his thumb. “Rome.”

“Rome? As in Rome, Italy?” I pointed in a random direction as if it represented the entire country.

“That’d be the one.” He remained laser-focused on me, searching my face.

I power walked to one side of the room, gazing at one of the paintings. “How did we get here?”

He moved his hands back and forth. “I just—well.” He made an explosion gesture. “And then we were here. I’ve never had to explain it before.” His brow quirked.

Dizziness threatened me. “You’re saying you popped us here? How?”

“Apollo.” He pointed at himself.

I clapped my hands over my mouth. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Why did I think yesterday was all a dream?

He ran over, bending down so he could see my face. “Laurel, you’re not about to pass out, are you?”

“It’d be pretty convenient if I did, to be honest.”

He frowned and delicately touched his fingertips to my cheek. Warmth surged through my head, and my breathing normalized.

I pressed my hand over his. “What are you doing when I feel like that?”

“Calming you.” He cocked his head to one side. “Healing isn’t always physical.”

Staring up at him, I tried to imagine the real him. Did he wear white robes? Float through the sky with a bow and arrow?

“You said you weren’t up on your Greek mythology, so I wanted to share with you a bit more about me—about my life. Maybe it won’t make things as crazy.” He let his hand fall away from my face.

No sooner had his touch disappeared, I missed it. With a nod, I slipped my hand into his. “Alright. Tell me everything.”

He ran a thumb over my knuckles. “I’m sure you mostly know me as the god of the sun, but I also have healing, sickness, knowledge, and…music.”

“I’ve gotta say, disguising yourself as a rock star is rather ingenious.”

He laughed, leading me back to the room we’d first appeared. “I thought so. And it gives me a way to inspire mortals on a mass level. There are nine Muses. I lead them. Send them off where they’re needed most.”

“Muses? They’re gods?”

“Goddesses, yes.”

We stood in front of a statue, which mirrored the painting on the ceiling. A long-haired man, a piece of fabric wrapped around his lower half, held onto a woman transforming into a tree.

“What is this?” I cocked my head side to side. The woman looked frightened.

He slipped his hands into his pockets with a sigh and stood in front of the statue. “It’s Daphne and me.”

“Daphne?”

He licked his lips. “Eric in Toronto isn’t, Eric. His real name is Eros, or as you may know him—” Our eyes locked. “Cupid.”

“The bartender? He is Cupid? I always imagined him to look more like, well—” I pointed at the cherub in the painting. “That.”

Apollo nodded. “Mortals have never met us in our true forms. How could they know what we looked like save for what they created? Though Eros was a chubby child. Very chubby.”

I stared at him wide-eyed, talking about gods being chubby kids.

“Are you okay if I continue?” He motioned at my face with a wave of his hand.

I nodded, still staring at the statue.

“When he said I was still sore about losing an archery contest to him, that wasn’t true.” His nostril bounced in a quick snarl. “I’ve wiped the floor with him every time, and it’d be no different now.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, in our formative years, I’d just returned from slaying a dragon with my bow and arrow and—”

“Hold on. Hold on.” I made a time-out gesture. “You slew a dragon?”

Apollo’s eyes sparkled with an extra twinkle. “Why yes, I did, Laurel.”

My insides flipped several times. “Continue.”

“Well, naturally, I made fun of Eros because he only ever used his bow to help people fall in love. I may have said something insulting like, let the bow to true warriors like me, blah, blah. He got so insulted, he decided to torment me.”

As Apollo talked, recalling the statue’s real origin story, I walked around it, eyeing the detail and care the sculptor took.

“Daphne was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Eros struck me with an arrow, and I became insanely infatuated with her. I’d have run to the edges of the Earth in pursuit of her.” He rubbed his chin, glaring at the cherub painted on the ceiling.

“She became frightened of me, wanted me to stop so badly, her father turned her into a tree.”

I stopped and stared at the particular kind of leaves snaked around Daphne’s arms. “A laurel tree…”

“Mmhm. My infatuation didn’t stop when she became a tree. Eros had the power to lift the curse at any point, but he enjoyed seeing me squirm.”

“Do you still love her?”

He leaned past the sculpture to look at me. “No. Eros eventually saw it in his good heart to lift the spell a hundred years ago.”

“A hundred years ago? How long were you obsessed with a tree?”

His gaze dropped to his feet. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

A sore subject for good reason.

“This doesn’t look like you.” I tapped my finger against my lips, focusing on the man’s facial features in the statue.

Apollo stepped beside me. “Can’t say I’ve ever met Bernini, the artist. How would he know what I looked like?”

I studied his face as he looked at the sculpture. How strange it must’ve been to see artwork of yourself from people who never knew you.

“You really are him. Apollo.”

He turned to face me. “And that’s the first time you’ve sounded convinced.”

“You were right to bring me here.”

He traced a fingertip over my eyebrow. “Good.”

His touch left a tingle in my cheeks.

“Come with me to one more place?” He sucked on his bottom lip as if he were nervous.

“Of course. Is there any better way to travel?” I drummed my feet against the floor.

He wrapped his arms around me, burying his nose into my hair. I closed my eyes as the sense of weightlessness washed over me. When I opened them, we stood in the middle of half-worn pillars, statues, and rock foundations.

“This is beautiful. Where are we?”

He closed his eyes. The sun in the sky made his blonde hair glisten like gold. “Delos in Greece. To mi kryfó.” He displayed his hand across the horizon. “The Unconcealed One.”

“Delos? Like Club Delos?”

He chuckled and interlaced our fingers. “Before the club, it was this island. It’s where I was born.”

I tightened my grip on his hand. “You were born on an island? Why not Olympus?”

That question sounded crazier hearing it out loud.

“Hera hated my mother, Leto. She seduced my dad, but honestly, that was never difficult. Hera despised her nonetheless.”

He led me to a row of lion statues, all facing the same way.

“Hera forbade anyone from sheltering Leto in her childbirth.”

I frowned, marveling at how much of the ancient ruins still stood. “That’s awful.”

“When my mother found this place, it wasn’t even solid land, but as soon as she stepped on the dirt, it welcomed her.”

Here I was in Greece, standing next to Apollo, listening to the story of his birth. The realization made my breath hitch.

“This dried up strip of land here used to be a lake. And on the bank were several palm trees. She leaned against one trunk and gave birth to my sister and me.”

“That’s incredible. And the Greeks kept up this island because it was your birthplace?”

“They were very devoted. The real stone lions are in a museum now, these are replicas, but they constructed them all facing east toward the lake as symbolic guards.” He rubbed his hand along my lower back.

“How many times have you been back here?” I rested my head against his taut chest.

He slid his arms around me and nestled his chin on my shoulder. “Artie and I try to come back at least once a year. We usually go invisible and get pissass drunk watching the mortal tourists all day.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Gods can get drunk?”

“Only if it’s Ambrosia wine.” He winked.

“Say something else in Greek.” I chewed on my bottom lip.

He nuzzled my neck with his nose. “What would you like me to say?”

“Anything.”

His smooth cheek pressed to mine. “Eímai o ílios, allá fotízeis ton drómo.”

“Mm. What does it mean?”

“I am the sun, but you light the way.”

I turned to face him, tracing my finger over his jawline. “Is that a song lyric?”

“It is now.” His gaze lifted to my hair, and he ran his fingers through it.

I rubbed my lips together, contemplating my next question. “Can we go back to the studio? They should all be gone by now.”

“An odd request. But your wish is my command.” He playfully nipped the air in front of me.

Already within his embrace, I forced my eyes to stay open. When he popped us, it was like time-shifting for a millisecond. To blink would’ve meant missing it. It was like one of those time-lapse videos but a million times faster.

I gasped, feeling my feet against the studio floor. My stomach gurgled, and I pressed a hand over it. “Not sure I could ever get used to that.”

“Probably not. It’s a lot for a human brain to process.” He nudged me in the arm with a snicker.

The studio was quiet, and the only illumination spilled from the emergency lights in each corner.

“Now, I’d like to ask a favor of you.” My heart thumped in my chest like a galloping horse.

Apollo cocked an eyebrow. “I’m intrigued.”

“Play for me again.”

His eyelids grew heavy. “Play what, on what?”

I hooked my fingers in the belt loops of his jeans. “Wicked Game on the cello.”

A masculine moan formed in the back of his throat, his gaze locked on my fingers. He held out a hand. In a progression of orange shimmers starting at the neck of the cello, it appeared from nowhere. Or somewhere.

He grabbed the back of a chair and dragged it to the center of the room, sitting. As he held his fingers over the strings, a bow materialized.

“On one condition,” he started, sliding the bow over the strings once in a whisper. “You dance. And you don’t hold back.”

“It all depends on how…” I bit my thumbnail. “…inspired, I feel.”

He locked his eyes with mine as he played. The music hit me like a tidal wave. An overwhelming intensity surged through me, surpassing any of the previous times he sang. I closed my eyes and kicked off my shoes, tossing them aside. Dancing barefoot, I forgot about posture, forgot about form, and strict guidelines to follow. The music dove into me and a vibrant chord struck in my soul.

As I bent backward, I opened my eyes to see him staring at me. A sultry squint, his lips parted, an intensity in his gaze—like a lion ready to pounce. Standing upright, I slipped my hands under my shirt and slowly pulled it over my head, tossing it in a corner. Liberation coursed through me, dancing half-naked. Especially in front of him. In front of…Apollo.

I turned to face him, sliding my hands across my stomach, caressing my cleavage, and resting on the back of my neck. He kept playing, not daring to look away. I was a woodland nymph, and the studio was my unending forest. Turning my back to him, I unzipped my shorts and let them fall to my feet, kicking them away in one swift motion. With complete abandon, I swayed to the music he made with his cello in nothing but my underwear.

He stood up, finishing the song, gazing at me like a starving predator. I walked over to him, knowing the music drew to a close, crossing one foot over the other, my hands playing through my hair. He slid the bow across the strings for the last note and dropped it and the cello. They disappeared in a shimmer before they hit the ground. He pulled me to him, pressing his hand against my lower back.

“Are you going to run away this time?” He whispered against my lips.

I let out a shaky breath. “Not a chance.”

He growled as his lips devoured mine, his hands splaying to press against my shoulder blades. His kiss was powerful enough to bend me backward, and I curled my arms around his neck. The sounds of our breathless pants echoed off the walls, and his finger undid the clasp of my bra. He stood me upright and pulled away from the kiss. A piece of his blonde hair escaped the bun, and it hung down over his eye as he slid one strap of my bra down, followed by the other. I let it fall away, my nipples on full alert from the chill in the air.

I slid my hands under the hem of his shirt, caressing the taut dips and grooves of his abs. He grinned, letting me grope him as I pushed the shirt up. He reached behind him and yanked the clothing away, his pecs bouncing in the effort.

“You look cold.” He took one of my breasts in his mouth, his tongue swirling around my nipple. Heat surged through my chest, traveling down to my toes.

I dug my fingers into the back of his head, my neck craning back. The warmth was particularly intense in my stomach and between my thighs. Groaning, I pulled on the rubber band holding his hair, letting it fall in its golden god of the sun glory. He leaned back, biting down on his lower lip. He dragged a finger across the lace of my underwear, and it morphed into golden sparkles, floating away.

“Do I get those back?” I greedily reached for the zipper of his jeans.

He kissed me, pressing our foreheads together. “Yet to be determined.”

He rested his hands on mine, halting my movements. When I looked down, his jeans were gone, and he stood in front of me, naked from head to toe. His manhood was everything I could imagine a Greek god to possess. He scooped me into his arms, carrying me over to the sidewall. Propping one of my legs on the barre, he wrapped the other around his waist and pressed my back against the wall.

“You have no idea the effect you have on me, Laurel.” He searched my face. His heartbeat synchronized with mine through our pressed together chests.

I sucked on his ear lobe. “Then show me.”

He smiled into my hair, and I felt the tip of him pushing at my entrance. I curled my hands around his neck to hold on for dear life. My back arched as he filled me. He hugged one arm around my ribs, the other cupping my ass, all while using the barre to balance me.

He drove into me like searching for the last note of a concerto. Searching, searching for the right tone to make all the pieces fall into place. And I was right along there with him. His music played in my head, sending a spark down my spine. I bucked against him. The heated comfort he exuded melted over me like candle wax.

As if he were the one soothing the melody within me, his thrusts were in perfect timing with it—an added element to the masterpiece unfolding between us. The warmth in my lower region escalated, twisting into a bout of exquisite pleasure that sent me over the edge. My thighs clutched his hips, and I hugged him against me as my body shuddered through its climax.

I nuzzled my nose against his cheek. “Apollo,” I whispered.

“Yes?” He cupped the back of my head, running his thumb over my cheekbone.

I looked up with satiated eyes. “I just wanted to repeat your name out loud.”

He hoisted me up, wrapping my legs around his torso. “You can scream my name if you want to, Sparky.”

I kissed him. Pouring everything I had into it. My heart. My soul. My inspiration. His lips slid over mine. He sunk to his knees, tracing the tip of his tongue over my bottom lip. Holding onto me with one arm, he splayed his other hand on the floor. As he lowered me, I expected to feel a cold hard floor on my back. Instead, it was soft, fluffy, and warm. White wisps contoured my shoulders.

“Am I on a—”

He smiled. “Cloud? Yes.”

I reached up, pulling him down and kissing him, spreading my legs for him. He dipped his hips and drove into me, making me gasp. He framed my head with his forearms, keeping my gaze as he rolled his hips. The man’s danceability translated directly to the bedroom. My hands traveled down the toned muscles of his back, landing on a firm rear—muscular, round, and squeeze-worthy. It flexed with every rock into me. His motions, combined with the never-ending heat and the comfort beneath me, was like another celestial plane.

He dragged his fingertips over my cheek, making it tingle with whatever his orange magical power was. He continued his sparkly trace over my shoulder, through the dip between my breasts, my stomach, and stopped below my belly button, resting his hand there. What happened next could only be described as an earthquake inside my body. A good kind, if there was such a thing. Seismic vibrations coursed through my veins, and I shrieked out in pleasure as it overtook me.

He lowered his head to my neck, kissing, licking, nibbling as I pulsed around him. He pressed his cheek against mine, his body tensed, and he groaned, reaching his own peak, letting part of his weight press against my stomach. He propped himself on one elbow, staring down at me through strands of hair.

“I think I’ve forgotten how to speak,” I whispered, pressing a hand to my forehead.

He chuckled, tracing his finger from one freckle on my chest to another. “I already have an ego. You don’t want my head to explode now, do you?”

“You know.” I cupped his sun pendant in my palm. “You’re not that arrogant.”

He pressed a hand to my knee and trailed it up to my shoulder. “I am. But you…inspire me.”

“I inspire you?”

“Don’t sell yourself short. Humans are capable of artistic wonder you couldn’t even imagine. All they need is that little—” He snapped his fingers, igniting a spark like a firecracker. “Spark.”

“Is that why you call me Sparky?”

He touched the tip of my nose. “You finally got it.”

With a wide grin, I bucked my hips like I tried to throw him off.

He laughed, pushing himself harder against me.

I sighed. “I suppose we should get out of here. Not sure I could explain this if someone were to walk in on us sleeping on a cloud naked.”

“What’s your hurry?” He curled his arms in closer to my head. “We’ve got all night.”

I laughed. “Oh, do we?”

“Mmm,” he purred. “Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to conjure a cloud and keep it in one place?”

“I haven’t the faintest. No.”

“Let’s just say we should probably make my effort worthwhile.”

We kissed, breathing in each other’s scents, and making the most of his cloud. The second time, he didn’t have sex with me. He made love to me. And it may have been the first time I ever truly experienced it.

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