Dionysus (Greek God Romance Book 1) (12 page)

They started to rise, and she opened one eye to guide them to her apartment, not letting their lips separate.

Dionysus let her lead until she lined up with her door, then he grabbed her by the butt and slammed her against it as they made out; she embraced this idea by hooking her legs around his torso.

Everything was set, everything pointed towards a fancy game of in-and-out and love and lust and heat as they fucked. . .

Unfortunately, after hitting the door, Rebecca was pulled out of the moment, hearing Andy Cohen’s voice of Bravo reality television fame commenting on a particular housewife, who was being chastised for having lied for the better part of a season.

“Who would lie about that? Come on!” Hermes added commentary to go along with Andy Cohen’s was a cockblock for Rebecca.

Rebecca’s eyes opened, her lips separated from his, and she pulled back slightly.

Dionysus gripped her shoulders. “Something wrong?”

She lifted her eyebrows as a way to signify that it was the television and Hermes, respectively.

Dionysus got the hint, but, like any other man, really,
really, really,
did not want to stop this choo choo train from pulling up to the station. “We’ll slip in. He won’t even notice.”

“I will.”

“He’s not even going to be paying attention to us. He is consumed by that TV.”

She threw up her arms and pushed him out of her space. “I’ve never had a roommate. I’m not
fucking
while Hermes watches reality television in the living room.”

Dionysus backpedaling, reaching for anything that could reinforce his argument, said, “We’ll put on some music. It’s how so many couples have sex these days.”

Although, Rebecca’s lips curled up slightly because of him using the word
couple;
she would not relent. Hermes had to be gone for this to happen. “I’m not having it. I’m not having some strange god in my home while I’m on my back, legs spread.”

“We can have you on your hands and knees then.”

She laughed, touching his cheek. “Get Hermes out of here and we will finish what we started.” She took a page out of Aphrodite’s book of seduction and let her hand slid down his body, feeling a fit abdomen, squeaking slightly then let it fall to his package that felt grandiose and hard. She did a minor body shimmy to highlight her delight, took the keys out of her pants and let herself in without breaking eye contact from Dionysus. She shut the door and sighed.

Dionysus stood blankly, seeing her leave, his heart leapt and his groin ached. He frowned, sighed, turned around putting his hands to his hips and exhaled deeply, staring back at the sun.

“Is this what mortals deal with?”

He shook his head, knowing the response and hating it all the same.

WHAT ABOUT THE VANDERPUMPS?

Rebecca heard a banging at the door, knowing who it had to be. It was some time in the afternoon, that she cared not to know as the sun shown through a crack in the maroon curtains. She had the slow drumming of a headache pulsing through that she blamed regret on. Regret for not having Dionysus take her on this plush bed while Hermes watched this and that, shouting to himself and the people inside the tube. She heard many threats about how he would pay one of them a visit, but, in actuality, he never moved from the couch besides to drain himself and get a little nourishment—and only during commercial breaks.

She had let an opportunity with Dionysus slip through her fingers,
and for what?
She asked herself.
My desire not to have a stranger hear my moans?
The fact was, many strangers had heard her moans, every single man that she brought home from the bar without knowing him, and sometimes, not even his name.

Rebecca placed her hand on her head, shook and sighed while the banging continued. She heard dimly over the sound of the television, Dionysus’ voice, which only reminded her of last night’s failure.
He’s a god for fuck’s sake, Rebecca. Imagine him in bed!
Imagine she did, the reel of “what could’ve been” started, she saw herself laying down naked and he was atop of her, knowing everything about her anatomy—a surgeon in the bedroom. He would give her passion as his aesthetic—and orgasms as his medicine. She sighed again, exasperated with herself. She never let any of the boys who were eager not get a slice—and usually within a night.
How could I let him go after he stuck around?
She had rebuffed him on the first night, and yet, he had done everything in his power to help her in her journey to survive life in Olympus. If that didn’t deserve grade A sex, she was a very poor teacher.
Very poor,
indeed.

Rebecca swung her bedroom door open, an exaggerated pull and demonstration for no one. Hermes remained fixed on the television. “I’ll get it,” she said as if Hermes would move from his comatose state. She passed by him on the couch as he watched “Southern Charm,” and muttered, “I have got to meet a southern gentleman.” And Rebecca had the stray thought to match,
what the hell would Hermes do with a southern gentleman?

Rebecca opened the door to a godly group of three: Dionysus, Hephaestus, and one she did not know, Mnemosyne. Opening the door, she could only see the legs of the third and it went unnoticed, unregistered. She stared at Dionysus, trying to get across that she had made a mistake and hoped that it didn’t kill what they could have.

Dionysus had journeyed to the entrance of the Underworld. It wasn’t much of a journey, and therefore, not detailed. He found Mnemosyne at the entrance, and she came along without a deal or goading. That was the great thing about the old gods and goddesses, they loved being needed so much that they would do things without the usual wheeling and dealing that came with Olympians and other young gods and goddesses.

Walking to the Underworld made him think of Ariadne and their tainted love and how she was ripped away from him—and the many gods and goddesses who had pointed it out, recently. He came to the conclusion that to pursue Rebecca who he felt strongly for, loved, actually, would only lead to the destruction of them both. And so, he decided to take a step back with Rebecca, many steps; therefore, when Rebecca looked at him eyes apologetic and filled with guilt, he looked down at his shoes and said, “Took all night but I have Hermes’ cure here. The river Lethe needed to be re-enchanted, or we would’ve been here sooner.”

Rebecca made a magnificent sigh of relief, one, that against his own will, made Dionysus chuckle.

“That bad, huh?” He caught himself participating. But like many men, in many ages, a beautiful woman who stole his heart could not be stopped.

“I like to watch TV, too.”

He adopted business-like tone official and said, “May we come in?”

Rebecca looked to the side, frowning. She thought it was weird, and now, her feeling that she may have fucked up seemed to be coming true. She stepped to the side to let them in.

Heph asked behind, “You ask permission?”

“Treat a lady as she should be treated.”

He grunted.

“You’re right, Aphrodite is no lady.”

“Hey! Watch it.”

“You started it.”

“Started what?”

“Okay boys, let’s get this going.”

Mnemosyne giggled behind. Rebecca saw her leg bobble slightly.
Who the fuck is the giant?
She wanted to ask the question, desperately, but bit it back, taking a deep inhale and gesturing with her left arm towards the couch.

Dionysus looked stunned and turned around. “Did you just giggle?”

Her voice boomed, “Why yes, I did, Dionysus.”

Dionysus noticed Rebecca’s appraisal of Mnemosyne legs. “Everything was bigger in ancient,
ancient
times. She is a Titan.”

“Like Megalodon?”

Mnemosyne said, “Fearsome prey, I never had the pleasure of wrestling with one myself.”

Dionysus grinned. “The word
pleasure
should be used lightly.”

Heph said, “Let’s get this over with. I have my shop to attend to.”

“What shop?” It was a snarky remark and Dionysus knew he would pay for it. He had convinced Heph to help because if he didn’t, nymphs and other meddlesome creatures would run amuck without Hermes to act as a go-between. This, as Dionysus put it, would eventually reach the shop and destroy Heph’s work. Heph would not allow such a thing and begrudgingly accepted.

Heph said, seemingly not hearing Dionysus last remark, “I’ve been working on a fascinating weapon. It—”

Dionysus cut him off, “We can hear about it later.”

He grunted and they stood behind the couch as Hermes flicked popcorn into his mouth, unaware of any new developments outside of his television programming. Mnemosyne, obviously, stayed outside.

Rebecca asked, “Does it get boring always standing outside?”

Mnemosyne said, “I like this mortal. I shall make sure you have a fine ride in the Underworld. Come outside and enjoy life, as was intended.”

Rebecca, upon reflection, had no idea what she expected to see. She stepped outside and Mnemosyne stood around thirty feet tall. She gawked up at her. “You seem short.”

Mnemosyne giggled again. “A truly wondrous mortal.”

Rebecca stepped back inside mouthing the words to Dionysus, “
What the fuck?”

He chuckled. “Believer?”

“That would’ve made things much simpler.”

“And possibly dead.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hermes tried introducing more stubborn humans to a Titan upon arrival. . . a few died.”

“The Titan killed them?”

“Sort of. Many died of a heart attack,” he once again stated in such a matter-of-fact tone that it made her give him a sidelong glance.

She piqued her head back outside to see Mnemosyne and all her glory once more. “I guess, I could see that.”

“Do you think you would’ve acted appropriately?”

“Nope.”

Dionysus threw his hand out, trying to communicate to Rebecca, “Caution. Danger. Danger. Will Robinson.” Curious, but not too curious when it comes to a reality television addicted god, Rebecca took one step forward then five back and ended up hitting Mnemosyne’s leg which frightened her enough to jump and step to the side.

 Then all of a sudden. . . Hermes sprinted around the apartment. It was, after all, commercial break.

Heph said, “This again.”

“Damn it, Hermes, stop acting like a child.”

Mnemosyne’s said, “I will keep you safe, mortal.” Rebecca felt a slight gust of wind that smelled of something she could not quite remember—but oddly refreshing.

Mnemosyne, as a Titaness and personification of memory, was more magical than any god or goddess Rebecca had encountered to this point. Embodying memory, every exhale of hers, every word spoken could enact a moment of memory loss or remembrance of an event long passed. Rebecca, at the time, was not able to recall the smell of sunflowers which were draped over the entrance of the Underworld. Mnemosyne regularly pulled and breathed them in, loving the smell and fragility of the plant.

Rebecca refocused on her apartment after hearing curses coming from Heph and Dionysus and an exuberant amount of things crashing and smashing—so much so, she was unsure that there was even that much to damage, inside. Rebecca had not realized she had an affinity towards her apartment, until it sounded like a wrecking ball went through it.

Dionysus cursed some more, throwing up furniture and pieces of debris that Hermes was raining down upon them. Heph swore and did much of the same. And Hermes ran and ran and ran, a tornado through the place knocking into anything and everything. This god tornado flung Dionysus who broke through the brick wall then slowly climbed out, while Heph was thrown back and cracked the countertop, lava spewing out and burning the marble floor.

This, more or less, went on and on for a few minutes then the commercial break ended and Hermes sat down.

Heph and Dionysus looked at each other, both distinctly remembering that this was how his last episode had gone and mouthed curses at each other for not informing the other.

Each went to a different side of Hermes, as he was distracted, and lifted him up by the arms. Hermes went kicking and screaming:

No!

No!

No!

I have to see how it ends.

How it all ends.

How does it end?

Tell me!

Tell me!

His legs, kicking and flailing, created more holes in the walls and general destruction and mayhem. They escorted him out and Mnemosyne used her leg to block any hits that may have accidentally hit Rebecca. She then picked up Hermes by the head.

“What must he lose?”

“This place.”