My stomach flipped as I did as he’d ordered.
Eventually, he came out, got on his bike. And I got on the back.
“You’re here!” a feminine voice screamed at me the moment we entered the backyard of a beautiful home. It was like mine in that it was in the middle of nowhere, the sprawling desert surrounding it. The driveway was full of Harleys. There were a few fancy SUVs as well, several with car seats. I hadn’t gotten to gape at the beauty of the home’s interior because I’d been too overcome with nerves, but it was definitely more boho than mine, and impeccable. I noted and appreciated the Lord of the Rings paraphernalia scattered around the place, the shiny KitchenAid appliances. Despite my nerves, the warmth of the home washed over me. This was a home. The photos, the smells. The sounds of people and music filtering through the open doors.
It was getting chilly in the desert, and I wasn’t wearing enough clothes, but I didn’t feel a hint of it.
Not with Hades pressed against me.
We hadn’t walked in holding hands or anything, Hades was definitely not a hand holder, but I’d rode here on the back of his bike. I still smelled of him, he still smelled of me. There was no mistaking it.
And then I was holding someone else’s hand. Or more accurately, they were holding my hand.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to meet you,” the woman clutching my hand yanked me into her small frame for a hug.
I was not a person who hugged strangers. Sure, I gave off that vibe since I was friendly and warm—or at least I liked to think so—but hugging strangers, or even hugging friends, was something I just didn’t do. It brought back things I did my best not to think about.
But there was something about this hug. No, something about this woman. She smelled of vanilla perfume. But with an edge. Hugging her didn’t make my skin crawl. It was warm, comforting, just like the home itself.
Eventually, she released me, but she still held my wrists in her hands.
She was stunning. Petite, wearing a long-sleeved, maxi dress that molded over every inch of her body. For a woman that small, she had curves. She was also wearing sky-high wedges that still didn’t put her at my height. Her hair was cropped into a pixie cut which totally suited her. Like perfectly. She looked like a bohemian fairy princess, and her eyes were glowing with warmth. Well, they were until they darted to the man still standing at my side.
“You,” she snapped, letting go of one of my hands so she could point her finger accusingly at Hades. “You have kept her from me for too long.” Her eyes then went back to me. “I fucking love your channel. Love it. Everything about it. I’m a little star-struck right now. My bikini line has been forever changed thanks to you.” She looked to Hades once more and made a shooing motion with her hand. “You can go now. I want to talk about things a lot more intimate than my bikini line, and Hansen gets pissy with me when I do that in front of other men.”
I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone shoo away a fully-grown man. And I hadn’t thought anyone would ever be brave enough to shoo away Hades. Unless they weren’t overly attached to the hand that did the shooing.
Amazingly, Hades shooed. But not before he yanked me out of the woman’s—I’m assuming Macy’s—grasp so he could kiss me. Not on the cheek. Not on the forehead. Not a chaste peck on the lips. No, a kiss. French. As. Fuck. For about one point five seconds I was worried about the audience, about the woman I’d just met standing inches away from such a sexual kiss. Then I forgot the woman existed. I forgot anything existed except Hades, his kiss and the hands that found themselves on my ass.
Eventually, he pulled away, which was good since I never would’ve, and things could’ve gotten even more inappropriate.
Hades did not let me go entirely, though. I was still pressed against his body, his head tipped down, his eyes on my face. “You gonna be okay, baby?” he murmured against my mouth.
If I hadn’t already been liquid, I would’ve melted.
Instead of answering, I pursed my lips and nodded once.
Still, he didn’t let me go completely. He just stared at me in that way that made my insides turn inside out. In a way I hadn’t thought he would do outside of the bedroom let alone in front of witnesses.
“Later,” he murmured, too low for even the woman to hear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard that your screams will echo through the fucking desert.”