By the time I had myself under control and had turned back around, the only one in the room was Siret. He was wearing tight guy-style underwear.
“You and I are the dirtiest.” His grin was pure wickedness. “The guys are waiting outside to make sure that we don’t get any more naked.”
“We can be quiet.” Wait, what? “I mean … let’s clean ourselves. Because that’s what we’re here to do. Obviously.”
I marched off to the first room, the one with the fine mist of water smelling faintly like a field of flowers. I could feel Siret close by, even though I had my eyes closed. When I finally did look around, I noticed that the water running off me was dark and thick with muck, the dirt felt like it had pretty much been embedded in my skin. Unable to look away any longer, I turned to Siret and was startled to realise how close he was, not to mention the way his eyes were locked onto me. For once, he wore no grin. There was no Trickery evident in his gaze. Instead, his eyes were full of heat, with an underlying gravity that made my chest thump. I sensed that he hadn’t looked away from me since we stepped into the room—which was a bit weird, actually, because it meant that he was watching the dirty water running from my skin.
“What?” I whispered, needing to break the tension. His look was doing funny things to my stomach.
He still didn’t speak, and I found myself watching the way the water dripped down his now clean and bare skin. In the other room I had tried not to look too hard, but now I couldn’t help myself. He was perfect. His body was defined and well-muscled. He wasn’t as huge as Coen and Rome, but those two were literally giants. Siret’s lines were smoother, not as bulky. His chest was broad, tapering down to narrow hips, and I caught his abdominal muscles shifting as I stared at him.
“You need to stop looking at me like that, Soldier.” His voice was a husky murmur.
“Are all gods so perfect looking?” I found myself stepping closer. There was barely two inches between us now. I finally managed to lift my head from his body to see his face.
“I feel so objectified right now.” He was trying to joke, but I could see the heat flaring in his eyes, lighting the green up so that it almost glowed.
My hands were moving on their own, lifting up to rest against his chest. I had never kissed Siret, even though both of his triplet brothers had kissed me. I wondered how he would taste, how it would feel. Would it be all consuming like Aros, or gut-wrenching like Yael?
“I promise that you will find out.” He then scooped me up into his arms, pressing our bodies together. A moan slipped from my lips, and a pained expression crossed his. “You will definitely find out. But just not this sun-cycle.”
Aching regret filled me, the emotion so strong that for a click I was worried I would cry from the pure frustration of it.
Siret closed his eyes, his arms tightening around me, sliding my slick body closer to him. “Right now I really need to not hear your thoughts. I can’t kiss you just after Aros. Your body is still reacting to his power. I won’t be the one to tip you over the edge; I’ve grown pretty fond of you by now, Rocks.”
I swallowed hard, desperately searching for some moisture in my mouth. It was odd how dry it had become, considering I was soaking wet in a room full of mist. I eyed a droplet which was trailing across Siret’s neck. So clean and clear now, all of the dirt gone.
“Don’t even think about it. I only have so much restraint.” His chest was rumbling, which caused the droplet to move faster.
“Restraint is my least favourite word right now,” I grumbled, before wiggling to let him know I wanted to get down. Back on my feet, I moved forward into the next room. The one with the steam that felt like it cleaned from the inside out. Siret followed me, and together we breathed deeply for a few clicks, which actually served to calm me down.
Part of me knew that my reaction to Siret was because of Aros’s seduction powers, combined with my stupid soul’s co-dependency, but I was starting to feel as though I would self-combust if one of them didn’t kiss me. If one of them didn’t touch me … everywhere. I wondered what it would be like to be truly loved by an Abcurse. They thought I couldn’t handle it, and part of me agreed, but most of my other parts really didn’t care.
When we were finally clean and covered in robes, we stepped out of the bathing chamber. Rome, Coen, Aros, and Yael were leaning against the far wall. Just waiting there. None of them wanted to leave me, or each other, while the gods were so close.
“So, which one of you wants to dress me tonight?” I lifted my hands up and did a little twirl, which caused the longer robe to flare out, my feet getting tangled in it. I went down in a heap on my stomach, a cool breeze washing across my bare legs as they sprawled out behind me.
“That’s ten tokens.” Yael sounded pleased with himself; I wasn’t in any position to see who he had bet against, but I did hear the exchange of currency. Assholes.
Coen set me on my feet in one easy movement, and I narrowed my eyes on Yael. “Stop betting on me. It’s rude.”
His grin was a little worrying, and I realised that I’d given him an order. Something he hated.
“What will you give me if I stop betting on you?” he asked.
“What could you possibly want from me, Four?” Even though it never worked out for me, I couldn’t stop myself from goading him further. “I have nothing you want.”
His eyes lowered, running across my body before landing back on my face. “I disagree, Willa-toy.” Then with a large step he was right by my side, his hand landing on my lower back. “But tonight I’ll be the one to give you something. Tonight I’m going to dress you in my colours. Tonight you’ll wear green.”
Yael had said that he would make me a dress, but in reality he only stood next to Siret, murmuring low instructions. Since he apparently had no idea how dresses were made or which parts of the dress were called what, the process was painful and long.
“There,” he finally announced. “Done.”
I was about to step away from beneath Siret’s hands, but the fingers laying over my shoulders curled inwards, anchoring me there.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Siret asked Yael.
Since I was facing the both of them, I got to witness the look of annoyance that flashed over Yael’s face. His gesture had been nice in theory, but apparently he wasn’t any better at dressing me than he was at letting go of his feud over Coen’s nickname.
“I have no idea what I’m forgetting,” he admitted with a growl. He didn’t like admitting that.
His eyes were on my chest—not in a sleazy way, but in a way that suggested he was looking for some flaw or another in the cut of the dress.