Page 20 of Resist
Taking yet another step backward, the plastic of my sun lounger burnt my calf muscle, halting my retreat. It made me wince, but I held my ground despite nearly falling onto my arse. I wasn’t backing down. Helena Smerdonneverbacked down.
“Lucas, that’s—”
He leaned in, his lips near touching my ear, his voice low, his breath warm. “We can do this the hard or the easy way.”
“What’s the easy way?” I breathed out.
“You let me take you in my arms and we get wet together.”
“And the hard way?”
“You end up in my arms and we get wet together.”
I tried not to smile. “So either way, we’re getting wet?”
“Yes, we’re getting wet.”
My eyes chased his while his chased back, our breathing mingled as we stood toe-to-toe, his chest almost touching mine, his determination just as fierce. He looked so young and playful yet somehow wise and strong. It was a delightful combination I wasn’t used to, and that excited me.
Lucas’s lip quirked, as did mine.
“So, what’s it gonna be, Helena?”
God, the way my name rolled off his tongue. It was both good and bad, dominant but kind. It sounded like a dangerous temptation; a forbidden fruit. One I wanted to bite despite being backed into a corner — something I said I’d never let happen again.
Bad things happened in corners; there was no escape.
With Lucas, though, it was different. I didn’t feel intimidated, coerced or … trapped. I felt exhilarated and, funnily enough, young, playful, and incontrol.
“How ‘bout this …” I said, placing my hand on his chest, gently pushing him back.
Lucas was a wall, a firm, hot, silky wall. And my hand was instantly in love, feeling all the things a hand should and shouldn’t feel.
I swallowed, and he noticed, so I quickly continued, “How ‘bout you jump back into that pool and keep your job as my upcoming star, and I’ll go take a seat and read my book.”
He glanced down at my hand, lifted his to cover it, and then pried it from his chest and directed my trembling fingers to his mouth. A surge of adrenaline, electricity, or something not entirely of this world shot straight to my heart when his lips caressed my skin, and for a split second, I wasn’t sure if it were still beating at all.
I was dead … at age forty-two … by a pool with a hot as fuck man-kid latched to my fingers.There are worse ways to go, I guess.
Lucas let go of my hand, turned around, and took a step toward the pool before pausing to look back. “Ah fuck it!”
The next thing I knew I was hoisted into his arms, both of us plummeting into cool water, my arms and legs flailing like a sock in a washing machine.
“Goddamn it, Lucas!” I spluttered as I broke the water’s surface. My finger shot out and pointed directly at him, water dripping from my eyelashes to my cheeks. “You, you …” I seethed, scrubbing my face and looking from Lucas to Matt, to Noah, Brad, Josh and Corinne, all of them stunned but smiling in anticipation of my next move.
Part of me — the delicate me, the me that felt needed protecting — wanted to scream bloody murder and fire them all on the spot for reducing me to an embarrassed, submissive, soaking mess. But the other part of me — the me that had been buried, the fun-loving, carefree me — well … she just wanted to laugh and enjoy life for the first time in a long time.
She also wanted to plot her sweet revenge.
So that’s what I did.
“You’ll keep, Lucas Malone. You just wait.” I splashed him again then flicked water at every single one of them. “Youalljust wait.” My eyes flared with purpose. “This is war, and I am Ares.”
“Athena,” Lucas corrected.
My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
“You’re Athena, not Ares. Ares is a man.”
