“You don’t like it careful, though,” he whispered back. “You like it hard and rough. That’s how we’re the same.”
“We’re not the same.”
“We’re more similar than you know. Tell me you don’t want just a little.”
Skyla sucked in a breath that echoed through the car. Maelea’s skin grew warm as she pictured the scene: him touching her, her responding. And for just a second, she wished it was her he was talking to. Not because she was attracted to him, but because part of her would like to know what it felt like to be wanted again, even half that much.
Orpheus’s chuckle drifted up to Maelea’s ears. “I thought so, Siren. All you have to do is beg.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Skyla asked. “Me to beg. Well, I’m not going to. This isn’t happening again, daemon.”
“A challenge.” Amusement echoed in Orpheus’s husky voice. “Let’s make a little wager. I get you to come without using my hands, and you tell me just what kind of enchantment you’re casting on me.”
“I’m not casting an enchantment.”
“Then you’ll tell me whatever the hell this weird connection is we seem to have.”
Silence drew out through the car, mixed with the craving swirling in Maelea’s blood. A craving she hadn’t felt in years and didn’t want. What was the point of looking for someone special? Just to get her heart broken all over again?
No, thank you.
Olympus. That would be her relief. That was what she needed to stay focused on. Not silly relationships that would never amount to anything important. Look what sex had done for these two—created tension and distrust, two things Maelea didn’t need more of. The sooner she got away from Orpheus and Skyla and got serious about her goal, the better off she’d be. Because now more than ever, she was determined to make it to Olympus no matter what it took.
Once she was there…maybe then she’d think about sex and relationships and finding someone special again. When she was finally where she was supposed to be.
“I’m not having sex with you again,” Skyla said. “I already made that clear.”
“No sex,” Orpheus answered. “My clothes will stay firmly in place. So will yours, I promise. What do you say? Afraid I’m that good?”
“I know you’re not that good, daemon.”
“Then take the bet.”
“What if I win?” Skyla asked.
“Then I tell you whatever you want to know.”
“You’d answer my questions?”
Silence. And then, “Three,” he answered.
“Any three?”
“A bet’s a bet.”
For a heartbeat, no one spoke. And in the quiet, Maelea had a sinking suspicion they were going to go for it. Right here. Her stomach tightened with a mixture of anticipation and dread.
“Well?” Orpheus whispered.
Chapter 8
Orpheus knew he was playing with fire. Just sitting across from the Siren in the confined sleeping car, he’d been juiced to the max. Now, seated next to her on the bottom bunk waiting for her answer, the heat from her body swirled in the air to mix with some sweet honeysuckle scent from her skin that left him light-headed and on the edge of control.
Gods, he wanted her. Wanted to taste her again. All of her this time. Even knowing who and what she was.
The easy move—the smart move—would have been to ditch her ass in Seattle. But he hadn’t. Partly because he needed to know what this weird connection was between them. Partly because she was no real threat until he actually had the Orb. And partly because seducing her in the meantime was a way to screw with Zeus. If there was one god Orpheus didn’t mind screwing with, it was the King of the Gods.
“Well, Siren?”
Her eyes lifted to his, held. Brilliant violet eyes, the color so unusual he wondered if they were real. The color so familiar he was sure he’d looked into them before.
She pushed her hand against his chest. “You’re radiating heat, daemon.”
So was she. And her touch only amped the fire in his blood to lava-hot levels. Her hand flat against his sternum sent a shot of wicked heat through his chest. A hand that wasn’t moving or forcing him back farther. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
A crash sounded outside in the hall. Skyla jumped to her feet. Before he could reach for her, she was out the door and into the narrow hallway.
“Sonofabitch.” Frustrated, he pushed off the bench, looked out to see a steward picking up plates from the floor.
“Excuse me,” the steward said when he caught sight of them. “Sorry for the disruption.”
The steward quickly swooped up the dropped utensils, set them back on the tray, then disappeared down the corridor.
Orpheus looked at Skyla, a good foot away from him. The door between this car and the one behind clanged shut as the waiter left. With a one-sided grin, Orpheus stepped toward her. “Where were we?”
She held out her hand and eased away. “We weren’t anywhere.”