I shake my head. “Forget I said that.”
He nods slowly. “There’s someone here to see you.”
The change of subject leaves my head spinning. For one eternal moment, I’m sure it’s him. The one I sacrificed everything to escape. But no, as cruel as Hades can be, he’d never throw me to the wolves so explicitly. I take a careful breath, and then another. When I answer, all the quaver is gone from my voice. “Who?”
Hades motions to the door behind me. “Room Two.”
He’s in one of the overnight rooms?
I cross my arms under my breasts. “I scene, Hades. I don’t fuck like that. Not in the overnight rooms.” I can’t pretend I don’t have sex on the job. I do. But it’s only when I choose to offer it up in negotiations. Going to the private overnight rooms meant for patrons instead of the playrooms with built-in safety measures? Absolutely not.
“No one in my employ ‘fucks like that.’” He pushes slowly to his feet. I don’t believe in magic, but the way Hades unfurls his presence is as close to it as the real world is capable of. He’s not a large man, but when he wants to be, he’s overwhelming as hell. “He requests discretion for the conversation. This was the simplest way to honor that request. As always, Allecto and her people will monitor through video and microphone. I don’t expect it to be an issue, but you’ll hardly be alone.”
Not yet, at least.
Not for two more days.
I give a shaky nod. I should probably apologize for assuming the worst, but I won’t. I’m too raw, too exposed. “I’ll go now.”
He doesn’t respond as I turn on a heel and stride out of the office. In the hallway, I briefly consider changing, but my black panties and equally lacy black bra aren’t out of the ordinary for working a shift as a submissive. The only little rebellion I’m indulged with is wearing heels instead of having to go barefoot like the others. At five foot, two inches, I’m what Meg fondly calls pixie-sized. A plus-sized pixie, rather. I snort.
Whoever this guy is, he’s obviously connected with the Underworld or Hades wouldn’t allow this kind of meeting. Which means there’s no need to change or worry about appearances. I don’t allow myself to wonder why it’s me meeting him instead of Meg or even Hercules. They’re Hades’s inner circle, the people who can make calls with the authority he extends to them. I’m only me.
I make my way up to the private bedrooms. They’re usually reserved for people who choose to spend the night rather than people who want to fuck. In the Underworld, most of the sex happens out in the open, or at least in the individual rooms off the public playroom. They can be altered to fit a whole range of themes, all in the name of lust.
There’s no point in knocking. Whoever is on the other side of the door knows I’m coming. I cloak myself in anger, allowing it to soak into my very pores. A suitable shield if ever there was one. By the time I open the door, I’m fucking untouchable.
Until the man on the other side of the room turns to face me.
Hook.
Chapter 2
Tink
Any other day, I would already be out of the room, throwing up a middle finger for good measure. For five years, I’ve gone out of my way to ensure I’m never alone with Jameson Hook. Apparently I no longer have that option. Even though I’ve seen him time and time again since I made my deal with Hades, I’ve never let myself look. It’s only surprise that has my curiosity slipping its leash now. Shock at his presence in this room overriding what little good sense I have.
The man standing before me is a far sight from the skinny guy who used to look like a rough touch would shatter his bones. He looks good. His medium brown skin practically glows from health, and he’s let his black hair grow out over the years. It’s not tied back for once, falling to his shoulders in waves that gleam. He’s filled out over the years, growing into his body in a way I intrinsically recognize.
I’ve done the same thing, after all, albeit in a different way. I love my curves, love the fact that I get to choose my beautiful. If anyone has a problem with that, they can fuck right off. Hook has gone in a different direction. His body looks like a sculptor spent a decade lovingly carving out the definition of his muscles. I can’t see them now, not with him fully dressed in street clothes, but a person doesn’t spend much time in the Underworld without getting pretty comfortable with public nudity. Especially if they have an exhibitionist streak.