Goddess of Love
G riffin's sisters were enchanting female whirlwinds. They reminded Venus of forest nymphs. They also reminded Venus of why she could only spend a limited amount of time with forest nymphs. The little creatures were exhausting.
“Yep! We've been tellin' Griff for years that he shouldn't be so hush-hush about his art. It's cool, really. And it doesn't make him less macho. It's not like he's an interior designer or somethin' like that. He's a fireman. You don't get much more macho than that,” said Alicia, rolling her eyes in the direction her brother had disappeared with the gallery owner. Alicia was the youngest of the group, and Venus thought she was cute in a spaniel-like way, even though she was clearly the most scatterbrained of the sisters.
“You wouldn't believe how hard it was to get this show together,” said Sherry, the oldest and also the prettiest. She looked a lot like her brother with her thick, dark hair and her amazing blue eyes.
“Yeah, Sherry took the slides of Griff's work on the sly, and then snuck with them to the gallery owner, pretending to be his publicist,” said Kathy. Venus loved her short, spiky haircut and thought it made her neck look incredibly swanlike. She also liked the sparkle in her blue eyes, which definitely reminded her of Griffin. And Kathy's job fascinated Venus, too. She was a radio personality on something called a soft rock station. Venus would love to question her about what that meant, especially because that would mean she could listen to her talk more – Kathy's voice was a smoky mixture of woman and sex appeal, and it was truly a sensual experience just to hear her speak.
“I wasn't pretending,” Sherry said, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder. She grinned at Venus. “I am a publicist. I just usually promote bands and not artists.”
“And Griffin's not paying you,” Stephanie said. She, too, had Griffin's dark hair, but her eyes were more green than blue. She'd explained that she was working on an advanced degree at the University of Tulsa. Venus wasn't sure what a jurisprudence was, but it sounded important, and she liked Stephanie's intensity.
Sherry laughed. “No, he's not paying me. But he is going to change the oil in my car for the next fifty thousand miles.”
“Hey! He's going to change the oil in my car,” Alicia whined.
“You girls fighting over me again?” Griffin grinned at his sisters, then handed Venus a fresh glass of champagne. “Here ya go, my goddess. Thought you might need a drink after spending time with this group.”
“Your goddess? That sounds awfully presumptuous of you,” Sherry said.
“Yeah, don't you need a goddess's permission before making her your own personal deity?”
Kathy practically purred.
Venus smiled and caught Griffin's eye teasingly. “Your brother is the kind of man who lays claim to what he wants. I suppose it's a good thing Venus is Goddess of Love and not war. Love has a more docile temper.”
“Docile? You?” Griffin's lips tilted up.
“She didn't say she was docile, doofus. She said she was more docile than the freaking Goddess of War, which still means you should watch yourself,” Alicia said.
“Exactly,” Venus said.
“I've already decided that she's more naughty than nice.”
“Is he insulting me?” Venus asked Sherry.
“I don't think so. In his own way I think our Griff means it as a compliment.”
“Hey. I'm right here.”
In perfect unison all four sisters rolled their eyes at him.
“You're driving her away from me and dooming me to a passionless, lonely existence where I'll be known as the crazy old fireman/artist who spends all his time changing the oil in his sisters'
cars and never has a moment to himself.”
“And the problem with that would be what?” Sherry said sweetly.
“Hey, would you get all hunched over and put on a French accent like Kevin Kline in French Kiss, and mutter stuff like, Those girls make my ass hurt, while you suck on a disgusting cigarette and drink little glasses of red wine?” asked Kathy.
“Kat, you've got to give up that Netflix subscription. You're spending way too much time watching and rewatching movies,” Sherry said.
“I like movies.” Kathy pouted.
“Are you feeling the need to run screaming from this place?” Griffin asked Venus. She laughed. “I like getting to know your sisters.” It was clear from the way his sisters doted on Griffin that they adored him as much as he obviously adored them. What a multilayered man he was: fireman and warrior, artist and loving brother. The sisters continued to argue about the oilchanging schedule and Griffin. Venus sipped her champagne and glanced up over the lip of her glass, catching his gaze. While he watched her she took the strawberry that garnished the rim of the glass and licked the tip of it. She saw Griffin's breath catch. Yes, he certainly was multidimensional, which included the healthy dose of passion she knew all too well was simmering just beneath his surface. A passion she would love to sample again and again and…
“Yoo-hoo! Love birds! Jeesh, get a room.” Alicia giggled.
Griffin laughed good-naturedly. Then he held out his hand to Venus. “Well, my goddess, are you hungry? I could take you home and feed you.”
Venus smiled at his use of her nickname and realized, now that she didn't feel so nervous about their date, she was actually hungry, and she'd definitely like him to take her home. “Yes, I am.”
She took his hand, liking the way he wrapped it through his arm, as if he were a gentleman warrior, escorting his lady love who belonged to him and only him. And she thought again how much she enjoyed being treated like a woman and not like a deity. Then she remembered exactly why they were there and added, “But you can't leave your own art show.”
“Why not? My publicist is here. She's better than I am at this kind of stuff anyway,” he said, grinning at his sister. “See you girls later,” he called over his shoulder as he pulled Venus with him toward the warehouse door.
“Good-bye girls,” Venus called over her shoulder.
The sisters waved at her while they blew kisses at their big brother. Outside the sidewalk was busy with people going to and from the art show and the other little shops that had purposefully stayed open late to capitalize on the gallery opening. It was a beautiful, clear night, but the wind had whipped up, making it a little cool, and Venus snuggled closer to Griffin.
“Here, take this.” He slipped off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. “And let me walk on the street side of the sidewalk. You never know when some idiot will drink and drive and jump the damn curb.” Then he threaded her arm back through his, and tucked her on his left side, keeping her close to him. She was enveloped by his warmth and she felt protected and cared for – two feelings that were foreign to the Goddess of Love. She usually made certain such things were brought to others' lives. Had anyone, god or mortal, ever worried about anything as simple as whether she was too hot or cold or whether she was protected? She knew the answer too well. She'd been worshipped for eons. People made pilgrimages to ask boons of her and to be granted the blessing of love in their lives. But people didn't care for and protect her. She was a great goddess – they wouldn't believe she needed or desired their care. Well, they were wrong.
“Thanks for being patient with my sisters. I know the four of them together can be a little overwhelming.” His words broke into her internal reverie.
She smiled at him. “They're going to be mad at you for leaving early.”
“Nah, I'll just be changing a lot of oil. And here's the secret.” He bent down and whispered into her ear. “I don't really mind doing it. The girls are always grateful, and I like knowing that they're taken care of. I still change my mom's oil every three thousand miles.”
Venus wasn't exactly sure why oil needed to be changed so much, or from what into what it needed to be changed, but she liked the fact that Griffin did it for the women in his life almost as much as she loved the way his breath tickled her ear and sent sensuous shivers down her neck.
“Too bad you didn't get to meet my mom tonight. She's on a cruise with two of her girlfriends. She'll be pissed when she gets back and finds out she missed the art opening.”
“What about your father?”
Griffin's open, warm expression faltered. “He left us when I was a teenager. Found a younger wife and made a new family.”
“I'm sorry,” Venus said. So he'd been father as well as brother to his sisters and the man his mother depended upon. Little wonder he understood women so well. Griffin shrugged. “Don't be sorry. It happened a long time ago.”
“It was his loss,” Venus said.
“That's what I used to tell the girls when they'd get down about it.”
They'd stopped at the passenger's side of Griffin's huge truck. On impulse, Venus said, “You're a good brother, Griffin DeAngelo. May you be richly blessed for your kindness to your family.”
Then she kissed him softly on the cheek, purposefully sending just a hint of her magic through him with her blessing – not enough for him to notice, but enough to bring him unusually good luck for the next several days.
When she pulled back she thought he would smile, open the door for her, and help her into the truck's maw. Instead he surprised her by taking her in his arms and lowering his mouth onto hers. Over his shoulder she saw the fullness of the winter moon and it seemed to be shining a beam of silver light down on them. An omen, she thought as her eyes closed and she opened her mouth to Griffin's possession. A lover's moon shining for us alone is an excellent omen. It's saying I should allow myself a lover who isn't a suppliant or an immortal. It's saying I should allow myself to love. And then she wasn't able to think about anything except Griffin's mouth and the perfect way they fit together as she slid her arms up around his neck and molded herself to him.
“Come home with me,” Griffin murmured roughly against her lips.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Griffin's two-story stucco house was just down the street from Pea's snug little home. He unlocked the door and ushered her into a dimly lit, spacious room. Instantly a huge long-haired calico cat began winding around his legs, purring a welcome. Griffin scratched the top of her head.
“Venus, meet Cali Alley Cat. She's not really an alley cat, or at least she's not since she adopted me, but the name stuck to her. I'll get her saucer of milk. If I don't she'll never leave me alone. Make yourself at home.” He hurried toward a room at the rear of the house, and then called over his shoulder. “Oh, the real lights are there by the door. Sorry, I should have flipped them on for you.”
He disappeared into what Venus assumed must be the kitchen, and she reached behind her and flipped up the light switch. She turned back to study Griffin's home, and felt herself freeze with shock as she stared with disbelief at the huge iron sculpture that predominated the room. Though he had borrowed the subject from another artist, she knew the work was Griffin's. It had the same graceful, sensuous lines as did all of his sculptures. It was exquisite, and it made her feel breathless and humbled and more surprised than she had been in centuries.
“This piece is my favorite. I didn't exhibit it tonight because it'll never be for sale,” he said softly, handing Venus a glass of white wine.
“It's Botticelli's The Birth of Venus.” She was amazed her voice sounded so normal. “Only it's not.”
“His painting inspired it, but Botticelli's Venus never felt right to me. So I fixed her.” His laugh was a little nervous. “Or at least I tried.”
“You fixed her,” Venus said, still staring at the sculpture. The seashell had been hammered from what appeared to be a single huge sheet of copper, and Griffin had aged and tarnished it, so that it had a green mossy tint that reminded her of the sea. The Venus that was rising from the ocean was created by more of the copper, only this metal had been polished until it glittered like faceted gems. His lines were sweeping and erotic. He'd fashioned her hair from tiny pieces of metal that lay over one another, giving the effect of a mermaid's tail as it wrapped around the generous curves of her body. She was no longer nymphlike. Instead she had the alluring sensuality of a more adult woman who was ripe and experienced and intriguing. Venus moved closer to the sculpture. “It's hard to believe you did this all of metal. It looks too warm – too realistic.”
“Kind of a switch on what women are, don't you think? They look soft, but are really stronger than men usually give them credit for being.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him and caught his cocky smile. But she found it sexy and endearing rather than overly arrogant. The man certainly did know women. Smiling, she asked,
“Why Venus?”
He grinned back at her. “Don't you remember? When we met I said she's my favorite goddess.”
Venus nodded faintly. She hadn't remembered. She hadn't really even thought about it.
“Yeah, I'm intrigued by her,” he said, staring at the sculpture. “The Goddess of Love, born from the sea – not even needing a man to come into being.” He shook his head. “I suppose it's always seemed a little sad.”
“Sad? What do you mean?” Venus felt her mind fluttering about like it was suddenly filled with confused butterflies.
“Well, think about it. The Goddess of Love doesn't need a man. It makes me think that the goddess carries love around with her, creates it for other people, but doesn't keep any of it for herself. It makes her seem untouched and untouchable.” He raised his glass to her and his playful grin was back. “But your hobby is mythology. What do you think of your namesake?”
She waited a long time before answering. Then she said the most honest thing she could. “I think she would love your sculpture of her.”
He walked over to her and fingered the escaping wisps of her silver-blond hair. “So, my goddess, have you decided what I am yet?”
“What you are?” His nearness was making her breath come faster.
“Before we got to the gallery you said a man who is an artist and a warrior had to be either exceptional…unusual…” He paused, twining a strand of hair gently around his finger. “What else was it you said?”
Venus raised one brow at him. “I said a man who is an artist must be either exceptional, unusual, abnormal, aberrant, or maybe simply peculiar.”
“And, my goddess, what is your decision about me?” His blue eyes were boyishly mischievous.
“I'm leaning toward exceptional or peculiar.”
Griffin moved even closer to her. “Let me see if I can shift the vote in favor of exceptional.”
He didn't give her time to respond. He simply cupped her face in his hand and bent to possess her mouth. She let him take her in a kiss that blazed through her skin. Venus reveled in the fact that this man took her, without hesitation, without making his touch a game of worship that ended in his begging a boon of her. She'd heard it so many times for century after century: Accept this offering of my body to you, Great Goddess of Love, and please grant my request to have the maiden I desire love me. Even the immortals weren't above asking for her to help them. Vulcan had even married her, ironically, because his desire had been to hide from love. She was well and truly sick of it. Tonight she wouldn't be Venus the Goddess. Tonight she would be a mortal woman who was being loved by a mortal man, which meant she would relinquish her famous control to Griffin.
Without a word, Griffin put her glass of wine next to his on a low metal coffee table. Then he took her hand and led her to the wide stairs to the second floor and the loftlike bedroom that opened to below. His bed was large, with an iron frame and covered with a thick dark comforter and king-sized pillows. He didn't turn on any more lights, but let the illumination from the room below spill softly over them, creating an effect much like candlelight. Griffin sat on his bed and pulled her close to him so that she stood between his legs. Then he tunneled his hands into her hair, causing the precarious updo to come undone and fall down her back and around her shoulders.
“I wanted to do that from the moment I saw you tonight,” he said. She shook her head so that all of her hair came free. His hands moved from her hair, down her neck, and then slowly, slowly, they continued down, outlining her body as if he wanted to memorize her shape and form. She shivered, thinking how his hands had the ability to create such beautiful, sensuous works of art – how they had somehow been able to create a perfect rendition of her without his even knowing it.
“Are you cold?” he whispered. His hands moved from the back of her thighs up and around, until his thumbs caressed the core of her womanhood. Venus's breath caught on a moan of pleasure.
“I can warm you up,” he said, his voice going all rough, like speaking had suddenly gotten difficult. She rocked forward against his firm touch, thoroughly aroused by the sensation of his hand stroking her through the layers of soft panty and rough slacks.
“I remember everything about how you felt that night. I haven't been able to get you out of my mind. You're like a drug that won't clear my blood.” His voice was deep and his breathing had increased. “I remember how hot and wet you were, how I slid into you and how I could feel you come.”
She met his passion-glazed eyes and the heat and desire she saw there had lust thrumming through her already sensitized body. “Did you think about me when you masturbated afterwards?”
“Over and over again.” He moaned. “I thought I'd lost you.”
“I thought you'd used me and then cast me aside,” she admitted.
“Never!” His eyes were bright with passion. “I would never do that to you. Come here, Venus.”
He reached up and pulled her mouth down to his. She opened her lips and accepted the heated thrust of his tongue, so that Griffin devoured her. Still kissing her, he turned and swept her off her feet so that she was lying across his bed. His hands moved down to unzip her slacks and she lifted her hips so that he could skim them from her body, pulling her stiletto pumps off at the same time and tossing them to the floor with the slacks. His fingers splayed low across her stomach, then they slid seductively down over the silky wisp of black panty she was still wearing to circle her clit with his thumb, and down still farther to gently stroke the folds of her vagina in the same caress he'd been teasing her with before he'd taken off her slacks.
“You're so wet your panties are soaked,” he said.
And then she groaned in frustration as his hand left her clit so he could pull off his own clothes in several impatient movements.
He was truly a beautifully built man. Darker and more masculine than Adonis, taller and stronger than Achilles. She wanted him to claim her as his own with a desire so fierce and so overpowering that it made her dizzy. When he lay back down beside her she found the hard length of his phallus, and she let her hand stroke him while she met his teasing tongue. He chuckled deep in his throat and grabbed her wrist.
“No, I don't want it to be over too soon. Tonight we take our time with each other.”
“I don't know if I can wait,” she said, with a rush of breath.
He smiled. “I can. I can wait. And so can you. This time I'll be the teacher.” Then he began unbuttoning her sweater, following the trail his fingers were making with his lips and tongue. When her black silk bra was finally uncovered he flicked his tongue along the top of it until he found the hard nub of her aroused nipple. He licked and sucked it through the thin layer of silk, causing her breath to pant hard and fast. His talented artist's hand caressed a path down her body, sliding off her panties. Then he cupped her ass and brought her firmly against his erection. But instead of plunging into her wetness, he positioned the head of his cock so that it could slide back and forth, from her clit down and then back up. He rocked her body against his and she gasped, grinding herself closer to him.
“You're making my cock all wet,” he whispered against the nipple he was still teasing with his tongue and teeth.
“Enter me!” She moaned. “Please…”
“Not yet, my goddess, I want you to come first.”
“Yes,” she cried. “Oh, Griffin, yes!” She rubbed her soft slickness against his engorged head faster and faster until she felt the delicious explosion build between her legs and cascade out through her body.
But instead of stopping at her orgasm, Griffin pulled off her bra and cupped her breasts in his hand, kneading and caressing while he repositioned himself against her wet heat. This time the head of his cock was pressed lower, so that it slid back and forth the length of her velvet slit, teasing her opening but never entering it.
“I remember what you taught us in class today.” His voice was rough with lust. “How, if a man truly cares about a woman's pleasure, she can have one orgasm after another. He just has to keep her aroused and then he can bring her to climax over and over.” He thrust against her, his hard phallus gliding against her soft wetness. “Is this the right place?”
“Yes.” She moaned. He slid himself over her, back and forth. One of his hands firmly cupped her ass and kept her grinding rhythmically against him, and the other teased her breast, holding it up to his hot mouth. When she came again she couldn't help crying his name.
“Now,” he said, pressing her against the bed and holding himself up so that he could look into her eyes. “Now I have to be inside you.” And he plunged into her, impaling her already engorged vagina with a ferocity that made her moan her pleasure aloud. The feeling of fullness was almost too much for her to bear. The sound of his heavy breathing mixed in perfect harmony with her own pants, and she could smell the musty scent of their mingled sex. He captured her mouth, and Venus immersed herself in the salty, sexy taste of him. Everything combined to heighten her desire for him. She reached between them and cupped him with one hand, squeezing gently and teasingly. With the other she stroked his hardness as he thrust in and out of her, loving that the cream that covered his phallus was her own wetness.
“You're mine,” he said with a growl, moving his mouth from hers to trail down the slope of her neck, where his teeth teased and nipped, as if he actually was a virile male animal marking her as his own. Intensely aroused by his possession of her, Venus lifted her hips, meeting him with equal passion. She was still stroking him when his shaft began to spasm, and he pounded against her so deeply that he found the pleasure center within her, finally releasing a gush of overwhelming sensation as her cries of ecstasy mirrored Griffin's.