“…No.”
“I didn’t think so.” I don’t know if reminding her that I’m her victim is a good thing or a bad thing, but I have limited cards to play. “Indulge me.”
She sighs, and it’s so exasperated that my smile threatens to shift from charming to genuine. For an assassin, she seems rather out of her element. If the situation were different, I think I’d like her quite a lot. Medusa curses. “Well, spit it out. You obviously want something.”
Got you.
“I want you.”
She makes a choked sound. “That’s not funny.”
“Neither is knowing that I won’t live to see the morning.” This time, I can’t entirely keep my shrug loose. “As I mentioned earlier, Odysseus is a selfish lover.”
“You didn’t say that.”
“I said I faked it. It’s the same thing.” I flick my hair off my shoulder. “He wasn’t one to share, so I’ve been enduring mediocre sex for the better part of a year. If I’m going to die at your hands, I’d prefer to do it well sated.”
She’s still making that delightfully shocked choking noise. “No. Absolutely not. Out of the question.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yes, why?” It’s tempting to step forward, to attempt to close the distance between us, but I’m already giving her the hard sell. If I push physically, too, then she’s liable to shove me out a window or something. I shudder at the thought of falling thirty stories to an untimely end. “Do you find me attractive?”
“We’ve already established that I do,” she grinds out. “But it’s still wrong. I know what you’re doing and it won’t work. This only ends one way.” She lowers her voice, almost as if talking to herself. “No matter what I think of it.”
Just as I suspected, she’s wavering. She has to be, in order to have given me the opportunity to talk to her at all. An assassin without conflict would have just ambushed me and gotten it over with. I’m not sure what Athena was thinking sending her, but then Medusa has a reputation for always getting the job done. Maybe she didn’t realize her sharpest tool was faltering.
I like her for that faltering. I like her even better that she’s reluctant to take advantage of me.
Unfortunately for her, I’m the one taking advantage in this situation.
“Assuage your conscience with the knowledge that you sent me to my fate well-loved.”
She sputters again. I spare the thought to wonder if she’s blushing, too. I’d bet good money that she is. I’m a fool because that pleases me entirely too much. After spending years moving among people who take it as a point of pride to act like they’re better than others—better than me—and conceal their emotions and thoughts, Medusa’s frankness is rather refreshing.
She finally clears her throat. “I can’t believe you’re asking for this. I don’t even know how to respond. This is wrong.”
“Another sin to add to the list.” I take a gamble and step forward. She doesn’t protest, so I do it again, except this time I let my leg buckle.
Medusa catches me before I hit the floor.
She’s strong. Taller than me by a good six inches and with a body that is carved with muscle. It makes sense, given her line of work, but I can’t quite help an appreciative noise as I run my hands over her arms. She sets me back on my feet easily but can’t quite seem to make herself release me. Her grip pulses on my hips as if she wants to touch me more but is working hard to restrain herself.
In the past, when I’ve made this same offer—albeit for different reasons—no one has ever paused before they’ve all but leapt on me in an effort to take what I’m giving before I can change my mind. Ironic that an assassin is the one who hesitates, who acknowledges the motive beneath the offer. “This isn’t right,” she murmurs. “You can hardly consent when I’m here for…the reason I’m here.”
I reach her broad shoulders and feather my fingertips over her collarbone. “Plenty of people have taken what they want with less care over my feelings on the matter.” I cup her jaw with one hand and drop the other to her hip so I can tug her closer. She follows my guidance without hesitation. “Please, M. If this is to be my last night, I don’t want to die with the memory of his hands on me. Kiss me.”
CHAPTER 4
MEDUSA
I don’t know what’s happening.
I came here with a plan but now that Calypso’s soft body is pressed against mine, I’m having a hard time thinking of anything but her. This is so far beyond wrong that I’m not sure there’s a word to describe it. The blindfold should make her less powerful, but it only seems to embolden her. She tugs me against her and, fool that I am, I allow it to happen.