Page 9

9

Icarus

I needed the food, but what I didn’t need was the confusion this meal brought. Poseidon isn’t playing a game like I originally thought. Some of the other Thirteen I’ve met have been almost smarmy. Power does weird things to people, particularly the Olympians. But apparently not Poseidon.

At least he’s talking to me. It’s very hard to seduce someone who flees the room the moment you enter.

“No one’s going to murder you, Icarus.” He says it intensely, forcefully. As if he can will it into being true. “You’re under my protection now.”

“So that means I can leave?” I say, testing exactly how far his so-called protection extends. From the way his expression shuts down, that’s a no. It’s nothing more than I expected. I just wanted to see if he’d admit as much. I shrug, the very picture of nonchalance. “Like I said, it’s fine. I knew what would happen when I decided to stay behind so Ariadne could get away. I accepted it.”

Poseidon plants his large hands on the countertop and glares at his plate of food as if it’s insulted his mother. “It was a very brave thing you did.”

I stare. Did he just compliment me? Surely I’m hearing things. “I took you captive, threatened to murder you, and then when that didn’t go to plan, almost drowned us both.” It wasn’t brave. It was reckless and desperate and more than a little fatalistic.

I honestly didn’t think they’d let me leave the docks alive once they pulled me out of the water. My sister has spent her life enduring the same gilded captivity that I have, but it hasn’t broken her. She still has hope, and joy, and plans for the future. She deserves to be happy. My life is a small price to pay to ensure she has a real chance to make it happen.

But going on and on about how I’m sure to die obviously won’t garner the sympathy I was aiming for. Time to try a different tack. I stand, doing my best to cover up my wince as the movement sends a jolt of agony through my chest. Poseidon is watching me closely, but he doesn’t leap forward to stop me from moving, so I must do a good job of masking my pain. Perfect. It’s hellishly hard to seduce someone who thinks you’re about to fall unconscious at any moment. That sort of thing puts a damper on the mood.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know…on one condition.”

Poseidon doesn’t move as I circle the island and come to stop in front of him. I’ve been close to him before now, but it feels different in this moment. Charged. That adorable flush is back in his cheeks, drawing my attention to the smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose. I’ve never been one to enjoy beards, but his close-cropped beard looks good on him. It smells good, too; obviously he takes care of it.

And then there are his shoulders, stretching the fabric of his shirt damn near to bursting. Some people wear too-small clothes to show off their bodies, but on him it feels almost like…neglect. Like maybe he yanked on the first shirt he found and it just happened to be a tiny bit too small. It pulls tight across his muscular chest and even tighter across his round stomach.

It…makes my mouth water.

“Icarus?”

Right. I’m staring. From the tension in his thick muscles, I can tell he’s considering putting some distance between us. I make the big guy nervous, and it delights me to no end.

He takes what I can only assume is an attempt at a fortifying breath. “What’s your condition?”

“I’m very scared, you see. I went to bed alone and woke up being carved to pieces.” It takes effort to put a quiver into my voice…but not as much of an effort as I would like. The truth is that Polyphemus scared the shit out of me. I have no tolerance for torture, it seems. Not for enacting it and not for receiving it.

Another way my father was right about me.

I shove the thought away and focus on the man before me. “If you mean to give me your protection, I want it twenty-four seven. I want to be by your side every hour of every day.”

“Out of the question.”

I didn’t honestly expect him to agree, but when bargaining, it’s important to start with the most outlandish ask and then negotiate your way to what you really want. “I understand that I can’t attend confidential meetings, but aside from that.”

“The shipyard is no place for tourists. You’re going to get yourself killed, and I just got done promising to keep you safe. No.” He shakes his head sharply. “I’ll put Orion on your security detail, but you’re not leaving the house.”

We’re getting closer, but we’re not quite there yet. “Poseidon.” The way his body clenches when I say his name brings to mind all sorts of interesting possibilities. I’d love to say that my focus is solely on manipulation, but the truth is I’ve been depressingly celibate since arriving in Olympus. It’s too dangerous to take people to bed not knowing where their alliances stand. Ironic, considering the very outcome my father was afraid of is the one I’m living right now. Captivity. Being used against Circe. A traitor to my people.

Poseidon licks his lips. They’re very nice lips. Sensual and full and completely at odds with his perfectly groomed beard. He’s such an interesting combination of rough and gentle. It intrigues me despite myself. Finally, he says, “What?”

“You’re the only person in this city who seems to give a damn if I live or die.” The words are intentional, but it doesn’t make them less true. Fuck, that’s depressing. I push through, not willing to spiral right now. There will be plenty of time for that later. “I only feel safe with you.”

I’m close enough to him that he has nowhere to back up to, but he crosses his arms over his chest, almost as if they can be a barrier between us. “There are places I’m going on a day-to-day basis where you can’t come with me, Icarus. You want safety, and not being at my side is what’s required to give you that safety.”

Almost there. I have him just where I want him. I allow my shoulders to dip, my spine to wilt. It hurts, but it’s worth it to see the way his eyes go soft. “But what about at night? I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep, considering the last time I did, I woke up with a knife embedded in my skin.” Not strictly the truth, but it serves for dramatic purposes.

He shifts from foot to foot. It’s a slight movement but it’s there all the same. I really do make him nervous. How fucking delightful. He swallows. “What do you suggest?”

“I want to sleep with you.” I sink enough insinuation into the words to make his flush deepen quite prettily. I laugh and press a hand to my cheek. “Wow. That sounded like I was coming on to you, didn’t it? But you understand what I mean, don’t you? I feel safe with you, which means I’ll actually be able to sleep. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

He stares at me for a long time. Long enough that I have to fight the urge to fidget. There’s a wealth of knowledge in his amber eyes, and I have the sudden sneaking suspicion that he sees right through me. I’ve done this song and dance before; I’ve used seduction to ensure safety or gather information or any number of things I’ve needed in the moment. It’s seduction that paved the way for my archive of blackmail material. I’m good at it. Fucking spectacular, even. And yet this big man doesn’t seem to be falling for it.

I guess I need to up my game. Or that’s what I tell myself as I take the small step forward that brings us almost chest to chest. He drops his arms in surprise and I take advantage of that new space to press my hands to his pecs. Fuck, he’s huge. He’s easily six inches taller than me and his shoulders are twice as wide. He could destroy me.

But he stands there, perfectly still, as I shift up onto my toes. “Unless you want me to seduce you?”

His mouth moves and he stammers. Actually fucking stammers. “I…uh…what?” It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Poseidon clears his throat. “No. That isn’t necessary. I said I would protect you, and you don’t need to be in my bed to ensure it happens.”

Maybe not, but it’s a good way to tip the scale in my favor. Sex creates intense emotions in most people. Maybe not at first, but give it enough time and that shared intimacy starts to mean something. I’ve never let that get in the way of my end goals, but my partners start to feel special, valued, like they can trust me with their deepest secrets. And that’s where the real value is. Having sex with Poseidon is no great sacrifice. He’s handsome and shows every evidence of being kind and considerate. I’d still do it even if he wasn’t, but it certainly makes for a more pleasurable experience.

I press even closer until our breath mingles in the bare space between our lips. “I don’t need to be in your bed…but maybe I want to be.”

“Icarus.” On his lips, my name is a plea for mercy.

Too bad I have none. “Poseidon.” I shift one of my hands to the back of his neck and dig my fingers into his thick red hair. I pull, mostly to angle his head to where I want it, but the moment I do, his knees buckle.

His. Knees. Buckle.

He catches himself on the edge of the counter and stares down at me with something like wonder. Maybe that’s the sensation in my chest right now, warm and strange and confusing. Surely Poseidon isn’t submissive. He’s one of the Thirteen, for gods’ sake. I’ve read my father’s reports. He runs his teams of people with an iron fist and a mutual respect. I anticipated him being tough and strong and maybe a little kind, but not enough to outweigh his dominance.

And yet that same man is staring down at me with his eyes too wide and his lips parted. As if I’ve shocked him. As if I’ve introduced him to something he didn’t even know he needed.

This development should be enough to cause me to retreat, to come at this from a different angle, but I can’t escape the look in his eyes. I can’t stop myself from tugging on his hair again, harder this time. He whimpers .

Holy fuck.

I don’t make the decision to kiss him. My body does it for me. I guide him closer, and he moves with my touch, putty in my hands. And then his mouth is on mine, and all my plans dissolve in the rush of sheer need. He tastes like the spices of the meal we just ate, and he has to be approaching forty, but his lips are almost tentative against mine. As if he’s waiting for me to guide this connection.

Later, I’ll have to figure out what the fuck I feel about this, but right now I’m riding on instinct. I bite his bottom lip, wanting to hear that whimper again. Wanting to taste it. He gives me exactly what I desire. I suspect he’s gripping the counters right now because he very carefully doesn’t touch me. He lets me touch him .

But only a hand in his hair and one pressed against his chest so I can feel his racing heart—and it is racing. For me. Because I’m kissing him. Power surges through me, heightening my desire, turning it into something even stronger than I could have anticipated. I kiss him harder, deeper. This was meant to be a soft, careful seduction. But there’s no room for either of those things now. Not when his hands finally touch me, his palms pressing to my hips, his fingers digging into the curve of my ass. He moans against my tongue and pulls me hard against him, obviously craving more contact with as much fervor as I do.

The press of his chest to mine sends a wave of agony through me. My wounds. I’d completely forgotten. My sound of pain is barely a whisper, but somehow he hears it. Poseidon rips his mouth from mine and uses his hold on my hips to set me away from him. “That’s enough.”

I stare at him, my breath coming hard in my lungs. There’s no space for argument, but as my heart slows and my lungs settle in my chest once more, knowledge takes root inside me. It’s not enough.

It won’t be enough until I possess him fully.