Chapter 73

73

Persephone woke up in the dark, with a slight headache and screaming thirst. Her body was soaked with sweat. Ugh, gross. A glass of water waited on a side bed table; she downed it and staggered to the adjoining bathroom to drink some more.

Her shoes were gone, and gods, where was her purse?

She should never have come out when she was so tired. How long had she slept for? She looked around but she didn’t see a clock. She searched for her purse so she could look at her phone, again, no luck.

She stumbled around the dark bedroom but still couldn’t find her purse. She must have dropped it downstairs somewhere. Crap.

After looking around the bedroom one last time in vain, she slid into the dark hall. Pulling a shaky hand through her hair, she leaned on the wall to rest a moment. Where was Fats? Or Slim? The upstairs was one long hallway with rooms off of it.

Which direction led downstairs? Well, she wasn’t getting anywhere just standing here, so she turned left and started walking. As she got closer to what she suspected was the front of the house, she heard a man talking. He sounded a little like Hermes.

It wasn’t until she’d opened the door and was halfway inside that she realized she’d entered another bedroom.

And it was occupied.

In the low lamp light, she couldclearly see the couple on the bed. She recognized Hermes immediately, he was the one on top, the angel wings tattooed on his back moving as his shoulder muscles worked. A woman’s long legs wrapped around his body, as his rather beautiful backside pumped to the rhythm of the music.

Oh shit. She did not need to be seeing this. Persephone backed away in horror, fumbling for the door handle, but not fast enough.

A new partner entered from another side door, coming from the master bath, Persephone guessed. The newcomer was the blond, stunningly beautiful Andrea Doria. She put her hand up to straighten her wig, and Persephone saw the large onyx ring she wore. Andrea’s robe fell open to reveal a very masculine chest and, lower down, male parts. Impressive, very aroused male parts.

“You all ready for me?” the drag queen drawled to the panting couple on the bed.

Hermes reared back and Persephone caught sight of the woman’s face who was beneath him—it was Olympia. Her dark skin was slick with sweat, but her head was propped on the pillows and she looked as a regal as ever.

She saw Persephone, too, and glared daggers at her as she addressed Andrea, “He’s ready. Climb on.” Her toned arms pulled Hermes back down over her and Andrea leaned forward, climbing on the bed. Hermes hadn’t seen Persephone and she’d rather it stayed that way.

Persephone backed into the hall before Olympia could alert anyone to her presence. Andrea noticed the movement by the door, though, and called to her, squinting through the darkness. “Come on in, honey, plenty of space on the bed.”

Reversing hard, Persephone turned and hustled down the hall the other direction, hoping the tall drag queen didn’t decide to chase her down and insist she join in.

Persephone passed a second door that had drifted open, but she didn’t look. The noise of moans and cries made it sound like an entryway to hell, but she was sure the occupants were having a blast.

She hurried by. The hall turned and finally, stairs!

Persephone ended up in the kitchen, so it must have been a service stairwell. She looked around. Where was everybody? Her eyes moved to the digital clock on the stove. 1:30 a.m. Seriously, where was everyone?

More importantly, where were her bodyguards, shoes, cell phone and purse? Persephone was ready to get the hell out of here and curl up on her bed back in her apartment. Maybe she’d break her own rule and let Cerberus sleep up beside her on the mattress tonight. She could use a little comfort cuddling, even if it was only with her Great Dane.

Continuing her search, she walked out of the kitchen. The lights were low and all Persephone could hear was some sexy, throbbing music. Without thinking, she flipped on an overhead light, and gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

Olympia’s living and dining room was filled with naked people.

A few looked over at Persephone briefly when the lights turned on, but the rest were too caught up in the throes of lust to pay attention. For her part, Persephone couldn’t move. Even her hand was frozen on the light switch.

The food had been cleared off the table, making way for the long, sexy body of a naked woman, who lay shuddering in pleasure as the mouths of three men traveled over her pale skin. One of the men briefly turned away, grabbed a spoonful of thick whipped cream, and dabbed it on her perky breasts before licking it off.

Beyond them, several couples were in a clinch, making out while leaning against the wall. Right before Persephone’s eyes, one of the couples embraced as the man lifted the woman and started thrusting into her, pressing her against the wall. His partner moaned and wrapped her legs around his naked body, digging her nails into his muscular shoulders and urging him to go faster.

Above all of this, Aphrodite stood on the arm of a large armchair, naked but for her signature red lipstick, watching the goings on with a satisfied smile. Seated below her was Max Mars, his own legs spread with a woman kneeling between them.

As Persephone watched, the movie star reached up to Aphrodite, and Aphrodite stepped down so she was standing on the chair cushion with one leg cocked up on the armrest, straddling Mars’s face. Gripping his blond hair, she thrust her pelvis forward, her head falling back as his mouth moved between her legs.

Persephone was blushing so hard, she was sure her face would explode. Hades had always teased her that she was na?ve and sheltered. But even after two years living in the city watching Hermes flirt with every hot thing that moved and Athena delighting in saying the most graphic things to embarrass her…Persephone still wasn’t prepared for this.

“Come on, babe,” the man with the whipped cream beckoned to Persephone. When she still stood frozen, he grinned. “Oh, I get it. Here, there’s a few left.” He set down the whipped cream bowl onto the side board and reached for a little bag filled with white pills. “One of these will loosen you right up.”

Persephone couldn’t find air to speak. The man shook the bag impatiently. “Olympia won’t mind. She scored them for all of us.” He came towards her, a lanky Adonis, smiling as she stared at him, wide eyed. His own green eyes were long lashed and mesmerizing.

“Here, beautiful,” he took a pill out of the baggie, and proffered it to her. “Down the rabbit hole.”

A squeak may have escaped from her throat. She backed away even as she stared at the pill that looked identical in shape and color to the pills Hermes had given her.

“Persephone,” she heard someone call, and she looked across the room, grateful for the interruption.

At first, her eyes flew to Aphrodite and Max Mars. Aphrodite had fallen to the couch, her body arched backwards over the arm of the chair as Mars’s gorgeous muscular torso reared over her. The woman who’d been between his legs before now was kneeling behind him, still doing her best to lick him as he pounded Aphrodite aggressively.

Persephone reluctantly tore her eyes away from the threesome, looking past them to see the man who’d called her name. A man in an olive-green suit, dapper except for his hair, tufted unusually in blond spikes.

Oh shit. It was Spike Hair. Poseidon’ thug, the one who’d been there when she was kidnapped.

Persephone didn’t even stop to question what he was doing here. Her hand shot out and she hit the lights. As the entire room went dark, she jerked backwards, away from the man offering her the pill, back into the kitchen, escaping the man who’d called her name.