FREYA
I didn’t see Hades the next day. Not fucking once. I’d woken up excited, giddy, with fucking butterflies in my stomach. Butterflies.
I’d decided my bruises had faded enough for me to put on makeup. They fucking had to be. That had to have been the reason why Hades didn’t want to fuck me last night. He hadn’t wanted to look at the bruises another man put there. An alpha male thing. Or maybe he hadn’t thought I was ready, hadn’t wanted to take advantage of me. The latter was much less likely. That was a good guy thing to do. Hades wasn’t a good guy. And I fucking loved that.
So I’d taken a shower, a long one. I’d exfoliated, shaved, used my fancy body wash. Then I used a fancy moisturizer and curled my hair in loose waves that tumbled down my back. I’d had to use more makeup than I typically would’ve for daytime, but it covered all of my bruises. The cut on my face was still visible, but I looked good on the whole. My blue eyes glowed with happiness, excitement. My lips were full, thanks to a plumping lip gloss that was like filler in a tube.
Matching underwear was a must. Pink. Light pink. Silk. A bra that showed my nipples. Underwear that barely covered the small triangle of hair on my pussy.
Then I slipped on a t-shirt dress, one that clung to my every curve and finished well above my knee. Yes, I looked good. Great. Fuckable.
But Hades wasn’t there when I walked out. Anderson was. He was sipping coffee at the breakfast bar, Sirius at his feet. When I got closer, I saw that he was reading a baby book.
“Morning, Freya,” he greeted, looking up with a grin.
“Morning,” I replied weakly, walking toward the coffee he’d thankfully brewed. It was nothing on Oliver’s, but I needed something.
“Where’s Hades?” I asked with my back turned. I could almost make my voice casual, even, but no way could I control my face.
“Club business.”
As much as I liked the prospect, I currently wanted to wring his muscled fucking neck.
Club business. The blanket statement that could be used for any number of things and something I couldn’t ask questions about.
The door opened and closed, and my body froze despite not hearing the telltale roar of a Harley. “Put that filter coffee down right now,” Marilyn’s voice came from the archway. “It’s an insult for it to be in the same room as the nectar of the gods.”
I forced a weak smile on my face and turned toward Marilyn.
“Woah, you look fucking amazing!” she whistled. Her eyes flickered to Anderson, familiar with him now. “Good thing that I wagered that there would be a man with muscles and a cut sitting in this kitchen.” She placed a coffee cup in front of Anderson then a paper bag that no doubt contained pastries. He beamed at her. She winked.
I gratefully took my coffee from her.
“You putting on mascara requires celebration,” Marilyn decided. “After caffeine, after pastries, we’re going to the mall. We’re going to spend a lot of money then have tacos and margaritas for lunch.”
Hades came back just after Marilyn left. Anderson had some kind of powwow with him in the driveway before he came in. Anderson had thoroughly enjoyed our day today, surprising both of us. Though he was technically our bodyguard, he’d spent the day as our very alpha shopping partner. We’d had a ball, buying things for Hannah as a reward for putting up with Anderson spending so much time with a younger woman. A stripper at that.
Then there were the baby clothes. They’d just found out they were having a boy. Marilyn and I might’ve gone a little wild, fueled by the margaritas that we’d had for lunch. Then we’d gone to Anderson’s little house, a bungalow on the outskirts of town with flower boxes and a perfectly mowed front lawn.
Hannah was a beautiful brunette with freckles covering her tanned face, glowing in her seventh month of pregnancy. She was warm, welcoming and kind, not jealous in the slightest and did not resent me for taking her fiancé away from her. We spent two hours there, watching her unwrap the gifts with glee, helping with the nursery decorations and drinking iced tea to sober us up.
Hannah promised to come over for dinner the following week with Marilyn and Jed. Jed doing all the cooking, of course.
After Marilyn left, Des called me and told me he was coming over and dragging me out of the house if I didn’t meet him at the usual place at the usual time.
I put on a new dress. It was silk, flowy and whimsical, empire-waisted with a butterfly print. I’d paired it with slouchy, tan boots and styled my hair in a messy updo. I’d even put on false eyelashes. I almost felt like myself again. Of course, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Hades, but there was no controlling that.