Chapter 16 - Austin
I’m pretty sure a blind date involves seeing eye dogs.
~ Walker Thomas
Well shit, I almost swallowed my tongue when Bee reappeared in the living room wearing a pair of short denim shorts, with a midriff top and four inch heels. Her hair was free and flowing down her back, she was sans makeup except for her lips which were touched with gloss. How the hell was I going to keep my hands off her?
I’d showed up on Bee’s doorstep with a plan; I was going to woo this woman so good that those icy walls around her heart melted like smooth butter. I was going to seduce her like she’d never been seduced before. But then she opened her door wearing nothing but tiny black panties and a black t-shirt that came nowhere near covering her ass. Brain fried, plan ditched. The blue balls this woman gave me was about as fun as an ingrown hair inside one’s foreskin. Lust burned like acid in my veins, desperately needing an outlet, and my hand wasn’t going to cut it. My need to have and taste this woman was outweighing my chivalrous need to wait.
Holding open the door to the exhibition center, I turned, expecting Bee to be hot on my tail with that teasing sultry smile she had been outright mocking me with for the last hour. Instead, she was frozen in place in front of the large banner that advertised the main exhibit currently on display. She looked almost comical with her mouth hanging open, her surprised gaze glued to that damn banner.
Mac had given me the idea for this date, telling me how much Bee loved this kind of stuff. The Gods of Greece: A Mythological Journey. The only part of ancient history I remembered from school was Mrs. Palomino and her spectacular cleavage that she shared with the class by dipping down low in front of the boys to answer questions. It was hot, entirely inappropriate, but memorable stuff for a fifteen-year-old boy.
“Did Mac suggest we come here?” Bee asked, finally dragging her gaze from the promotional banner to me.
“She said you would love it, that you’re kind of an expert on this subject.”
Bee’s lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. Had Mac purposefully doomed my date to fail? She claimed she was on my side and that watching the “love hater” crumble would be the show of the millennia. Nerves rarely got the best of me, but I was beginning to doubt myself.
“As it so happens I am an expert on Ancient Greece and its mythology,” Bee confessed as she strolled confidently towards me. My nerves vanished with the smug look Bee sported. Her hips swayed as she walked, her shoulders were proudly back, and she looked like a fucking queen, my queen.
Her moods would likely grow to give me whip lash, yet I enjoyed her unpredictability; it kept me guessing. Smiling, I reached out my hand, and Bee gently placed hers in mine. I pulled her roughly into my body and took a moment to feel the warm, soft curves flush against my side. Raising the back of her knuckles to my lips, I pressed a gentle kiss to them which seemed to render Bee completely immobile and speechless. Her skin was soft and warm, and maybe I was crazy, but it almost seemed as if it had a sweet taste to it, like candy apple. The way Bee looked up at me through her lowered lashes and her flushed cheeks, I knew she felt the same burning lust that I felt. Game on, Sugar.
“Fake, fake, fake, false, false, fake,” Bee murmured as she strolled along at my side.
She was so serious as she took in the exhibition and refuted just about every single display, and if her eyes kept rolling back in her head the way they did, I feared they might just roll out of her skull.
“What a load of fudge,” she spat out, pausing at the display in front of us.
The painting was enormous, and according to the small tablet to the right of it, the picture portrayed Poseidon in all his near naked glory as he watched with a dispassionate expression as a Minoan palace sunk into the deep oceanic waters. The information on the tablet went on to describe Poseidon’s power of ‘earth shaking’ as the reason behind the collapse of the Minoan civilization. Bee’s obvious irritation over the painting and its accompanying information was fascinating to say the least.
“What’s your take on it?” I found myself asking.
“Effing ridiculous, the destruction of the Minoan civilization was all on Ares when he and his warmongering wing-man, Phobos, had an argument over who had slaughtered more on the battle field. An entire race wiped out because of a pair of arrogant gods arguing about penis size.”
Choking back a laugh, I quickly covered it with a cough when Bee’s fiery gaze landed on me. I guess satisfied I wasn’t laughing at her, she spun around and I watched as her lip curled with distaste.
“And this is just humiliating.”
Following her gaze, I found a small display featuring Cupid, with chubby cheeks and a slip of fabric covering his nakedness, an arrow nocked in his bow ready to fire.
“Ah, there’s that aversion to all things love and romance,” I murmured.
“Hardly,” Bee said a little sulkily. “This isn’t even Greek, it was the Romans who decided to degrade the memory of Eros by reducing him to this ridiculous . . . thing.”
With her hands on her hips and her eyes practically shimmering, like really shimmering, with churning unearthly wonder, I had never seen a more magical and beautiful sight.
“Gods are beyond prideful. Do you honestly think Eros would appreciate this manifestation of his very being?” She shook her head. “The Romans deserve a kick in the ass for this atrocity.”
I couldn’t help but be impressed with her knowledge and in awe of her passion. I barely knew Eros from Ares, so I would have happily accepted the displays with all their gleaming pride and falsified information.
“You realize you just said ass.”
Bee’s cheeks filled with color. I knew that she and Mac didn’t curse; in fact, they had a long standing bet on who would be first to cave. It hardly surprised me that Bee’s temper got the better of her. She was a firecracker.
“Are you going to tell on me?” she asked with a raised brow.
“I’m a big believer in blackmail, so I’ll just tuck it away and save it for another day,” I confessed with a smile. Giving my attention back to the display, I asked, “What do you think Eros really looks like?”
Bee sighed and wasted no time with her answer; she had clearly thought this through.
“He’s tall; stacked, of course; sky blue eyes that are fathomless; and he holds such great power it equals that of Zeus and Apollo, but he uses it in more understated ways. He can be your worst nightmare if you get on his bad side, his ruthlessness knows no bounds, but when he looks upon those he cares about, he softens with such love it makes you feel like the most important person in the world.”
“Like that?” I wondered, pointing out another display.
I watched as Bee’s gaze settled on the marble statue of a man and woman wrapped lovingly in each other’s embrace. As if drawn by an invisible string, Bee stepped towards the display, her eyes wide and something I could only describe as awe and adoration on her face. I followed close behind her, completely fascinated by this woman’s love for Greek mythology.
“Eros,” she whispered.
The name off her lips was filled with wonder. She spoke of this being as if she knew him, as if she might actually care for him. Jealousy in all its ugly, undignified horror flared. It had been so long since I had felt the emotion that I wasn’t sure what it was at first. The wistful look in Bee’s eyes as she had described the God of Love made my stomach churn. Jealousy, over a mythical god . . . I was losing my fucking mind.
“Be careful, Sugar, you speak of him as if you might love him.”
I couldn’t help the slight barb, and was surprised by her answer.
“I do,” she whispered. “Like no other.”
How would I ever understand a woman who clearly doesn’t believe in love between living, breathing beings, yet holds such profound love for one who doesn’t exist. Irritation pushed aside the jealousy. “The God of Love?” I remarked. “Of all the gods, you choose the one who wields power that you hate?”
“Love is what you make of it; hate is what it makes of you.”
Jealousy, irritation, anger, it was all swept away. Her words were tragically beautiful and the look of longing in her gaze made my heart crack open a little wider. Soon it would be fully open and this woman would consume it all. If she refused to return the feeling, I would be doomed.
“Who’s the woman?” I asked, not looking at the statue of the couple embracing, but rather watching Bee’s awestruck features.
“Psyche, his wife.”
If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it, but Bee’s eyes shone with unshed tears, and I thought for a moment she might let them fall. Damn, her love for this world bordered on fanatical. Rubbing a hand down my face, I looked away, feeling like a voyeur in some heartfelt moment.
“Holy hell,” I gasped as my eyes settled on a painting right across the short corridor, hanging innocuously on a wall with strategically placed lights, “that looks just like Mac.”
I felt Bee move alongside me as we wandered toward the painting. It was an image depicting Hades adorned in full battle attire, his face covered by a steel mask that only allowed his dark, bottomless eyes to show. He was surrounded by two hounds of hell and a few lingering souls in the background, like a posse from hell. Among the entourage, I easily picked out a woman who looked eerily like Mac. Immodestly dressed in wisps of fabric that barely covered her lady bits, she had a smirk on her face that looked sensual and defiant. Turning to take in Bee’s expression, I found her smiling, her eyes crinkling at the corners with laughter.
“Beautiful.” The word trickled effortlessly off my lips.
Bee’s smile fell instantly, and her accusing gaze landed on me.
“Mac?” she scowled.
“Not even a little bit,” I confessed, still holding her gaze, intent on making her realize I was talking about her.
A blush filled her cheeks as her baby blues dropped from my eyes to my lips. When her tongue brushed her full bottom lip, I was a goner.
Fuck it, I couldn’t hold back the need to kiss her any longer. I had to taste her. Leaning forward, I watched her reaction, begging her to allow me this one small taste, and when she leaned toward me, I closed my eyes and allowed Bee’s sweet breath to touch my lips. Right when the tactile sensation of her full, soft, sensual lips should have reached mine, the sound of Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get It On broke the spell.
Unable to fight my grin at the unfortunate timing of that particular song, I pulled away just a little and watched as Bee’s cheeks heated with a mixture of embarrassment and irritation as she pulled her cell phone from her bag.
“This better be good; otherwise, I am going to poison the crud out of you!” she hissed into the phone.
“Hi Austin!” I could hear Mac loud and clear. “Sorry to interrupt your tour down memory lane, but we have a problem.”
Bee didn’t even try to move away for more privacy. “I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle.”
“If you don’t get your love sick butt home in the next thirty seconds, I am going to pick the meat from Goth Boy’s limbs and leave a grizzly mess on your kitchen floor.”
I probably should have been shocked by the violent imagery, but I was currently stuck on the ‘love sick’ part. She was totally falling for me. Even her best friend could see it. I grinned and Bee’s distracted gaze lingered on my lips for just a moment before shaking her head and continuing her conversation with Mac.
“Wait, Goth Boy? As in the weird man-child who needs to wash his hair and lives across the hall?”
When she looked up at me through those dark lashes, I raised a curious brow. Did she have a problem with a neighbor? She took a subtle step away as she whispered into the phone. Not wanting to look as though I was eavesdropping, even though that’s all I wanted to do, I took a tour through a small gift shop to the right of the exhibition. A key ring caught my gaze, one of a silver bow and arrow. It reminded me of Bee’s love for archery. The draw towards the small silver piece was inexplicable, and I was paying for it before I was able to acknowledge what I was doing.
“I need to go.”
Turning at the sound of Bee’s words, disappointment hit me hard. She looked a little unsure of herself and a whole lot disappointed, which made me feel a little better. At least she didn’t want this day to end either.
“Everything okay?” I asked, hating the uncertain look she wore. I much preferred a smiling Bee, or an even angry Bee. Sad Bee kind of sucked.
“Yeah, just a Mac emergency, which means everyone in the entire realm needs to stop what they’re doing and attend to her beckoning call.”
“Realm?”
Bee looked like a deer caught in the headlights before she shrugged and smiled. “Sorry, I might have got a little sucked into the mythology and everything.”
“You need a ride?” I asked, hoping she said yes because I’d get to keep her with me for another twenty minutes.
“No, I’m fine,” she whispered with a cute pout in her tone. “I owe Mac a favor, which she has called in at the most inappropriate time, but I need to make a few stops first.”
“I don’t mind stops, Sugar. It gives me more time with you.”
Her eyes lit up like stars, and once again I found the woman shrouded in a glowing light that maybe even had a tinge of pink to it. Before I had a chance to look at the ceiling for the light that may have created such a curious glow, Bee’s voice brought my attention back to those full lips I was so enraptured in only a few moments ago.
“Really, I need to do this on my own. It's something of a delicate female nature and Mac would give me the beat down of the century if I let you tag along. How about I make it up to you and take you out this Friday?”
Having grown up with two sisters, there really wasn’t anything of a female nature that could embarrass me or keep me away. Even so, I didn’t want to push Bee and come across as an obsessed, needy stalker, which I kinda was. The thought of saying goodbye to her was a physical pain in my chest.
“You’re going to take me out on a date, Sugar?” I crooned, hopefully hiding my pathetic obsession.
“I plan to take you on a ride you’ll never forget,” she murmured, a sensual grin tilting those delicious lips into a gorgeous smile.
“Damn,” I chuckled, rubbing my chest.
The need to kiss that smile right off her lips was a force to be reckoned with, but I refrained from attacking her like a voracious animal.
“Close your eyes.” I murmured.
One of Bee’s perfectly arched brows rose, and her nose scrunched in a way that made me want to lean forward and kiss it. Pressing one hand to her hip and tilting her head curiously to one side, she kept those fathomless eyes glued to me.
“Don’t be such a baby, close your eyes.”
Reluctantly, she let them slide shut. Reaching out, I lifted her hand and opened her palm, taking a moment to relish the warm skin, so much softer than my own. I placed they keychain in the middle of her hand. Seeing the silver bow and arrow cupped in her pale flesh looked right, and somehow I just knew she was going to love it.
“Open,” I whispered.
Bee’s eyes flickered open and her gaze dropped to the keyring. She stared at it for the longest time, the awkward silence making me wonder if she thought I was some sort of lame asshole buying lame-ass gifts. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I rocked back slightly on my heels and waited for her to say something. In the short time I had known Bee, I had come to realize she never stayed silent for long. Her mouth fell open but no words spilled.
“W-What . . .” she began with a stutter. Giving her head a little shake, she tried to speak again. “What is this for?”
It wasn’t quite the reaction I was hoping for, but the way her finger traced the little silver bow with such reverence eased my nerves.
“It’s a gift, you know, when someone willingly bequeaths someone else with something which is given without an obligation for anything in return.”
“I love it,” she finally whispered.
Grinning, I closed Bee’s fingers to encompass the gift before leaning forward and pressing my lips to her warm, silken forehead. However much I longed to kiss those sultry lips, kissing her like this felt natural. My palm curved around the delicate arch of her neck as I held myself to her for a moment longer than what was probably appropriate. Possessiveness and passion flared inside me and moving away from her was a physical feat in itself. I’d never felt possessive of a woman before, but right here and now, I wanted to somehow mark this woman as mine, to publicly claim her and ward off any other man who might think he had a chance at seducing such a sensual creature. The dreamy look in Bee’s eyes as I backed away made me feel about ten fucking feet tall.
“See you Friday,” I murmured with a wink, before turning away from the exquisite woman and heading in the direction of my car.
The further away from her I drew, the more hollow my chest felt. I already missed her smile and her unique, sweet scent. Her personality that I had once thought of as acerbic and defensive had softened as I had gotten to know her. In its place was a complex woman with a multifaceted nature that sometimes seemed to contradict everything I thought I wanted in a woman. Once upon a time I thought I wanted safe and sweet; but right now I found myself wanting wild and sassy.