Once a Myth
“I’m not some sexually starved beast who—”
“No.” She wrapped an arm around my waist, one part threatening and all parts understanding. “You’re a woman. And women have forgotten who we are because we give ourselves to others, over and over. Husbands, children, bosses, friends. We change to fit their ideal of us. We change to fit an ideal that we create. Tonight…just forget.” Dropping her arm, she grabbed my hand and tugged me gently out of the villa. “Tonight…just be free.”
* * * * *
“Holy…what is this place?” My mouth dropped open as Jealousy guided me through the double doors of a hexagonal villa I hadn’t explored. If she hadn’t guided me here, I would never have found it.
Nestled within a small glade, tucked at the end of a ten-minute walk from the residential area of the island, this new place held an aura of secrecy and temptation that dripped from the thatched roof, permeated the ground, and decorated the exposed rafters.
“This is where we play.” She smiled, striding forward with familiarity while I stayed struck dumb as I drank in the majesty of such a place. The front foyer glowed with sun from the glass roof interspersed with thatch, five stories above us. Palm trees grew through the floor, stencilling the marble tiles with their fronds. The villa ached with opulence even though none of the usual garish strappings of glitz and glamour existed. The walls were a simple alabaster plaster. The wooden doors huge and left natural so their knots and grain were visible in their imperfection. Hinges of black metal were a feature, along with the simplicity of openness and no furniture.
It was like a church.
A church where no respectable god would reside.
A church of sex and sin.
“Come…this way.” Jealousy opened one of the six doors all leading off the main foyer. Cracked open, the sense of space and sunlight continued bright and welcome, even as twilight cast the island in cocktail-happy hour.
Padding behind her, I drank in yet another offshoot of splendour. Unlike the grandness of the foyer, this space held furniture. A small nest of burnt orange chairs by the window, enjoying the babble and view of an exquisite waterfall splashing into a lily pad pond, and a lounger stretched by the wall with a rack of glossy magazines.
A waiting room.
A waiting room for a man about to have sex.
“This way.” Through yet another door, the villa once again shrank. A building-size version of Russian dolls. Huge then large then medium then small…all fitting inside one another in a magic trick of cohesion.
This room needed no explanation.
A bathroom fit for a queen…or a goddess.
Part covered, part open, I drifted from the large vanity and stone-tiled shower to the private garden where a quartz bathtub waited filled to the brim with rose petal-dotted water.
Butterflies darted in the spiels of sunlight, their jewelled colours of blue and purple flashing like weightless gemstones.
Jealousy turned toward the vanity, touching the row of items laid out on fresh white towels. “This is where you’ll bathe. Shower or bath, the choice is yours. Shave your legs, underarms, and if you shave between your legs, then do what you are naturally comfortable doing.” She didn’t blush talking about trimming pubic hair, far too confident and experienced in her own sexuality.
Giving me a kind smile, she tapped the wrapped toothbrush. “Clean your teeth, dry and brush your hair, dress in that dressing gown behind you, and when you’re ready, join me behind that next door for the final preparations.”
I eyed the door in question. Simple frosted glass leading to unknown horrors.
Was that where I would sleep with him?
Was that the bedroom where all of this would end?
“Any questions?” Jealousy asked, joining me by the bath.
Shaking my head, I dipped my fingers into the flower petal water.
Warm.
Fragrant with essential oils.
“No.”
She squeezed my arm. “It will be okay…I promise.”
I gave her a tight, worried smile.
Backing away, she added, “I’ll be waiting, but take all the time you need. Don’t rush.” Blowing me a sweet kiss, she vanished through the smoky glass door and left me alone.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
IT TURNED OUT MY willpower was shit.
I found Jealousy in the VR room, sitting on the couch by the wall, reading something on her e-reader. “She ready?”
She shook her head, tearing herself from whatever material she found engrossing. “I left her in there about fifteen minutes ago. I told her to take her time.”
Nodding, I deliberated just leaving.
I didn’t need to be here.
The program code was complete. Jealousy had Jinx’s cleanliness in hand, and my other staff knew their jobs backward. But…fuck it.
Without making eye contact with Jealousy, I marched to the glass door and pushed it open. The moment I entered the muggy, steamy bathroom, I shut and locked the door behind me.
Jinx wasn’t there.
My stomach knotted, and I darted forward, searching the shower, the toilet, the little koi carp pond made from a huge porcelain pot.
Nothing.
Goddammit.
Tearing my phone out of my pocket, I spun around and brought up the number for Calvin. I’d get him to hop in the fastest speedboat and circle the island.
She can’t have gotten far.
Just as I was about to connect the call, a caique parrot with the energy of a cocaine-snorting flea shot through the air and into the bathroom thanks to the open-air garden. He chirped and flapped around my head. “Not now,” I growled.
He landed on my head and did his trick of hanging upside down, latching onto my hair to stare me dead in the eye, making me go cross-eyed if I wanted to look at him.
“Pika…” I bared my teeth. “If you want to be useful, find that damn goddess that’s run away.”
My hand curled around my phone. I’d expected the worst from Eleanor…but it was highly fucking inconvenient that she’d decided to bolt mere moments before having to serve Markus Grammer.
The tiny parrot did an acrobatic flip off my forehead and flapped noisily around my ears. I rolled my eyes, holding up my hand so he could perch on a finger.
He landed instantly, still cawing and cackling as if telling me all the reasons I shouldn’t be here and why I should’ve done myself a favour and kicked Jinx off my island days ago.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Bringing my hand to my face, I nuzzled into the little bird. Letting him peck my lips and coo into my cheek. He settled, still jumpy from my rage at finding an empty bathroom but content that I still loved him, and it wasn’t him I was mad at.
A gentle slosh and a trickle of water ripped me around.
I blinked.
A wash of red-hot need fired through my veins.
She hadn’t run away…after all.
Jinx sat up in the bath, water streaming over her face and hair, flower petals sticking to her bitter chocolate strands. The scent of sandalwood, orange, and vanilla coated her skin from soaking in a specially prepared blend.
The bath held so much water that only her face was visible, but it didn’t stop my cock from thickening to a steel rod.
Her grey eyes flickered from me to Pika and back again. For the longest second, confusion blended with something akin to shock. Her tongue swiped on her lower lip, sipping the droplets left there. Her hands curled around the edge of the bath, white-knuckled as if my presence drove her to homicidal rage.