Accidentally Aphrodite (Accidentals #10)



Someone sat on the edge of her bed, and she stirred. Rolling over, she focused in on Khristos, his hair wet from a shower, his olive skin made deeper by the dark stubble littering his jaw. “A match needed?”

He shook his head and smiled down at her as she tried to sit up, placing his hand on her shoulder to encourage her to lie back down. “Nope. I was just checking on you to be sure you were all right, or if maybe you wanted something to eat? You missed dinner.”

She knew he was doing this out of his sense of duty to the apple and his mother. She knew his kindness had a string attached. She just wished he didn’t make her heart beat so fast or her knees feel so wobbly. Or worse, have that compelling way of making her feel as if she was important, as though he actually cared about her beyond her duties as Aphrodite.

But that was all in her head. She knew it. She’d do well to pay attention to it.

So she decided to avoid how she was feeling in favor of something she’d wondered about all the way home. “So, my dad…”

Khristos peered down at her, brushing her hair from her face. “What about him?”

“He knew. He always knew about my mom and he never said a word.”

“I think he knew it wasn’t his story to tell. Those words had to come from your mother. It was her secret to share, and no amount of reassurance from anyone would have helped until she was ready.”

“I’m glad she was finally ready.” The relief she felt over her mother’s confession was full bodied.

“You were amazing tonight, Quinn. Exactly as Aphrodite should be.”

His words of praise made her cheeks warm and her breathing hitch. “It was obvious my mom and Maude should be together. There wasn’t much to do but let that arrow fly.”

“Still, you’re getting better, stronger, more sure. That’s a good thing.”

“Will it make a difference in leniency for you if I’m making the grade?” she asked.

“Don’t think about me.”

“I can’t help it.” She really couldn’t help it. He was impossible to not think about.

“I just wanted to check on you, not put another issue on your plate. Go back to sleep.”

But she grabbed his arm as he began to rise. “Wait. How did you know what was really going on with my mother?”

He sat back down, the scent of his freshly washed hair wafting in her nose. “I did a little digging. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was off, ringing untrue for me. You were pretty wrecked and I hated seeing that. So I reached out on the forums—”

“And poof—like magic, right?” she whispered up at him. God, he was decent, and as men went, sensitive but gruff all at once, and so many adjectives she was rapidly losing count.

“Yeah,” he whispered back with a grin. “Poof.”

“Thank you, Khristos with a K. I feel like I’ll never be able to say that enough.”

On impulse, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him hard, forgetting she was completely naked under the covers. When her nipples, rigid from the cool air, brushed his chest, Khristos groaned, and so did she. Long and low, their breaths mingled, their moans winding together.

Their mouths found each other on a surprised breath, their tongues tentatively touching before Khristos drove his deep.

Her hands clenched his thickly muscled shoulders in a moment of pure bliss. White flashes of light appeared behind her eyelids at the taste of his tongue.

His hands drove into her hair, wrapping the long length around his wrist, pulling her head back until his lips left hers and his mouth found the sensitive flesh at the base of her neck.

Khristos nipped it, running his tongue over her flesh to ease the sting then nipping again, making her arch against him.

Quinn pulled the hem of his T-shirt up and over his head, her mouth watering at the idea of touching his naked flesh. She flattened her palms and ran them over his pecs, relishing the tightening of his nipples, luxuriating in the heat of his skin as he rained kisses over her shoulders.

They fell backward on the bed, Khristos shoving the covers aside with his feet and pulling her flush to him. His cock was rigid beneath his jeans, rigid and pressing against the apex of her thighs.

He ran his hands over every inch of her, roaming the slope of her hip, the curve of her ass, setting her on fire with each pass he took. Skimming her ribs, he settled his hands beneath her breast, and she held her breath, forgetting about her impromptu boob job and instead arching into his palm.

Khristos grazed her nipple with his knuckle, making her writhe against him, press into his hard length until she thought her spine would break from the wave of heat settling in her belly.

Quinn fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, tearing it down and driving his pants over his hips until he was able to shrug them off.

And then they were both naked.