Page 23 of Muzzled

She slid off the hood of his car and fluffed out her skirt, smoothing the fine fabric over her thighs. “Of course you were. You told Alex you needed me, and here I am.” Motioning for him to come closer, she cupped his chin in her hands and tilted his head from side to side. “I do love this freshly shaven look.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, slipping his phone from his back pocket and trying to take a subtle peek at the time. “I appreciate the visit, and I do have a few questions and updates, but unfortunately, I have some place to be this evening.”

Persephone’s perfectly manicured brows lifted. “The hunt can wait. I would like a few minutes with my favorite boy.”

Her favorite boy.

He’d heard those words come from her lips thousands of times over the centuries, but for the first time, he didn’t feel a sense of pride or a flare of desire for a goddess he was forbidden to touch. If anything, he felt a small flicker of annoyance.

Maybe it was witnessing the openness with which Micah spoke with her festival friends or the unapologetic baring of her soul she laid out in her art for all to see. Perhaps it was the way she slid her hand into his as though it was the most natural thing to do or the softness in her gaze when she listened to him, but Seph’s words suddenly sounded fake. Almost manipulative.

His eyes flicked to the street. “I’m actually meeting up with a friend for a movie. And since they don’t hold the shows for latecomers—”

“Orion.” Seph’s voice took on a hard edge as she regarded him with narrowed blue eyes. “I’ve played this game twice this year. No ‘friends’ allowed.” Her gaze softened, and she placed her small hands on his chest. “What was it you needed to ask me?”

The usual rush of heat her touch sent through him was absent, a peculiar sense of wrongness settling in as her perfectly shaped nails grazed along his shirt. Fighting the urge to recoil from her touch, he took a deep breath. “The Pirithous is guaranteed to be male, right?”

“The bloodline is male, yes,” she replied, tracing circles on his shirt with her thumb. “You know this, Orion.”

Gently removing her hands, he took a step back. “Just confirming necessary intel.”

“This friend,” she pressed, moving in closer. “A woman?”

“A lead,” he stated. “I believe she may know the identity of my target. Maintaining a positive relationship may lead me directly to the guy I’m hunting.”

Seph adjusted his collar and ran her fingers along the nape of his neck. “Leads are acceptable,” she said slowly, keeping her arms around his neck. “But you’d do well to remember you belong to Hades, and through Hades, me.” She gave him a cheery smile and patted his cheek. “Of course, with Bo’s cursed thread interwoven into your lifeline now, I know you’re too smart a boy to take senseless risks with that damaged love line of yours.”

Keeping his expression neutral while she studied him, he nodded tersely. “Just a lead, Seph. I’ll be home soon.”

He waited until the air shimmered and she disappeared back to the underworld before he rolled out his shoulders and hopped in the car. His eagerness to see Micah grew with every passing block until he pulled up to her place to find her laying on her back on the small patch of lush green grass in front of the house, eyes closed and her hands skimming the tips of the blades.

Getting out, he walked over to her and held out his hand. “Inspiration-seeking, exhaustion, or laziness?”

“Impatience with a hot accountant who insists on being punctual instead of early,” she replied as she took his hand and brushed off a short, flippy black skirt, which would definitely provide a show if the wind picked up even a fraction. “You look good.”

Glancing down at his typical black button-down and jeans, he frowned. “I look the same as always. Your outfit, on the other hand,” he said, motioning to the sheer, black, bell-sleeved shirt she wore over a turquoise tank top, “is…lovely.”

Lovely.

He winced at his weak description.

The word on the tip of his tongue wassexy.Deliciously fuckable. Hotter than hell.

Butlovelywas safe. And a good reminder he was here with her for intel, not to bury himself between her thighs.

She rose up on her toes, her lips turned up in an amused smile as she kissed his cheek. “I love this whole awkwardly shy, sex god thing you have going.”

He knew he was blushing and doing a poor job hiding it as he opened her door for her, closed it, and got in the driver’s side, then adjusted his mirrors far longer than necessary to avoid responding.

He’d been called a lot of things over the course of his long life—loyal, obedient, even gorgeous by hundreds of goddesses and nymphs and women—but ‘awkwardly shy sex god’ was new. And he wasn’t opposed to it.

The mad dash they made to the theater after he got himself re-centered made the first few minutes of their date a whirlwind of repeated apologies for his lateness, anxious hunts for a parking spot, and a few frustrated mutterings when the line for food moved at a snail’s pace.

But when she stretched out in the large armchair and moaned in happiness, lateness and Persephone and parking were long forgotten.

“Why isn’t every theater like this?” she sighed, lolling her head to the side to smile at him. “This is more comfortable than my bed.”

He waited until she was settled and passed her a box of popcorn, knowing this was neither the time nor the place to think about her in her bed. “The money generated by the thirty minutes of trailers we’re about to sit through is the reason we can endure them in luxury.”

---