Goddess in Training (2 page)

The kids stared up at him in awe. He
smiled, turning to watch Lisandra’s denim skirt swishing mid-calf,
her ass wiggling suggestively. She would be his without a doubt,
when the silver sphere rose in all its glory this very eve in the
house of the gods.

“
Where are you from?” a
wide-eyed, brown-skinned girl asked. She looked like a youthful
version of the serving girl to an Egyptian princess he had once
pleasured.

“
Mount Olympus. And
you?”

The girl giggled. “From right
here.”

“
Oh, the
library.”

The children all laughed.

Lisandra walked back into the room
carrying a T-shirt against her silk-clothed breasts that jiggled
with her hurried step. Before long, he had every intention of
suckling on the taut nipples that strained for release against the
hint of a lacy bra.

She glanced at the giggling children
and seemed pleased Asarian had entertained them. “Here,” she said,
offering the pale blue shirt to him, embossed with red hearts.
“It’s for a library fund drive to support the children’s library.
We’re supposed to charge for them, and the participants are to walk
and encourage businesses to support the effort. But we always have
a few extras for volunteers.”

“
I will volunteer to do
anything for you,” he said most sincerely. She smiled, and the look
was as sexy as any siren’s. Even Aphrodite, goddess of love, could
take a hint or two from the innocent sensuality of the mere
mortal.

Taking the cotton fabric, he brushed
his fingers against hers, figuring to send a sizzling sensation
through the nerve endings in her skin, to trigger the ache in her
groin that already plagued his own. For an instant, she seemed
shocked. He smiled. It had worked, only his shorts had grown
increasingly tight, nearly strangling him.

“
I can’t do anything about
your feet,” she said, then retook her seat. “If anyone complains,
you’ll have to leave the library.”

“
We won’t,” a redheaded,
freckle-faced boy enthusiastically said, grinning. The other
children quickly agreed verbally or with exaggerated
nods.

Though he had nothing against
children, as god of pleasure he’d never concerned himself with
them, only to think that the girls would some day grow to be his
students when they reached an acceptable age. But it amused him to
be so well-liked by the small ones, and it seemed to even please
the librarian more, which could only help to aid his
quest.

Lisandra motioned for Asarian to sit
on one of the chairs situated on the outskirts of the room, but
instead he sat down on the floor, cross-legged, just like the
children. If they could garner her attention in such a manner,
mayhap he could, too.

Her mouth lifted at the corners, full
pink lips that glistened with some kind of gloss that intrigued him
to no end. Her eyes sparkled with mirth, and he wondered then how
he was going to get the woman to agree to go with him to Mt.
Olympus. It would be so easy to pleasure her here, amongst the
dusty books of learning, a place that seemed to capture her heart,
of course, after the children and other patrons left for the day.
But Zeus insisted that if he won the challenge, the lady would
become the goddess of fertility and needed to see who her rulers
would be on Mt. Olympus beforehand. Hera insisted also, saying that
it was where she fell in love with Zeus, and if her plan were to
succeed, Asarian would have to make love to Lisandra
there.

But she didn’t seem to be the kind of
woman who cast aside her inhibitions and did whatever she felt
like. Not like some of his conquests, one of whom joined him in a
deep-sea cave after they scuba dove to the hidden spot, and another
who made love to him in a cruise ship’s swimming pool with the
water rising and falling while the ship tilted on the high seas,
while most of the passengers slept. This woman, if he could even
bed her, would more than likely opt for the sanctity of a bed, the
first time around.

But, maybe not. Only time would
tell.

***

Ohmigod, he was hot!!! Even though the
air conditioner was always on way too high in the big meeting room,
Lisandra wanted to fan herself to alleviate the effect of the hot
flashes that were flooding her body.

How could the man look so devilishly
appealing in the one instance and so sweetly innocent in the next?
Sitting with the children, fascinated with her story, just like the
children were, he appeared to be just one of the kids. Thoroughly
enjoying himself.

She might have thought he was
childlike if it wasn’t for the sinful way he eyed her clothes,
which for a librarian were perfectly—well, straight-laced. But the
way he looked at them made her feel as though she was half dressed,
wearing one of her skimpy baby doll nighties—see-through, perfect
for muggy summer nights. And it wasn’t just her clothes he
considered as if he saw right through them, but the way he studied
her face, her eyes, her lips and every word she spoke, as if her
voice had some kind of mesmerizing quality.

Well, some did say she had a way with
words, a way that kept the children entertained and quiet with her
hypnotic voice. Unlike other library storytellers who resorted to
banging on drums, and dancing or making strange faces to make the
children laugh. But her way was different as she wove her story,
catching the children up in them as if she waved a magic wand and
enchanted them.

And the man, too. Who sat in awe. He
looked like the kind of man who was not awed by much and the notion
made her smile. As soon as she did, his eyes caught her expression,
and he smiled, too, but not in a sweet way. More devious, as if
he’d ensnared her instead this time.

“
And they lived happily
ever after,” she whispered, her gaze focused on the man’s
compelling eyes.

Soon families were ushering their
children out of the room, breaking the spell, and Lisandra tried to
keep focused on the families and not on the man with the bare feet,
who remained in the room behind her somewhere.

Her co-worker hollered, “I’m shutting
off the lights. Are you coming?”

“
Be there in a minute. Go
ahead and leave.” Which she knew was a mistake as soon as she said
the words. The hunk of a man was already pulling off the T-shirt,
exposing his gorgeous abs as if he were getting ready for a
love-fest.

With her.

Ha!

“
Y-you can keep the shirt.
It’s yours. To keep.” She locked the back door, then tried to herd
him toward the front door without touching his remarkable backside,
hoping he’d pull on the shirt and cover his sculpted muscles that
were just imposing from the backside as they were from the
front.

But he just gave her a hint of a smile
and tucked the shirt into his waistband like a flag saying, “Tag
me! Me!”

She groaned inwardly at her sinful
thoughts and motioned to the door. “After you?”
He bowed his head, the smile still tugging at the corner of his
lips. And the heat flooded her body again with a
vengeance.

***

Asarian waited patiently while
Lisandra locked the front door. Never, did he grow impatient with a
woman. It was one of his many virtues.

“
Did you need a ride
somewhere?”

“
My chariot awaits,” he
said, motioning to a gold Jaguar shining in the fading
sun.

“
That’s yours?” Her voice
rose with the pitch of her brows.

He pulled out a set of keys. “Would
you like to take a ride?”

She grabbed her purse and locked the
front door behind them. “Thanks for the offer, but I only live a
couple of blocks over and it’s nice weather this evening.”
Instantly the warmth she’d shown him turned chilly. What had he
done wrong?

He glanced up at the
sky.
Zeus
? he
implored.

Suddenly a blue norther blew in;
clouds blocked the sun and rain spilled from the
heavens.

“
Come,” Asarian shouted
over the punishing winds. “I’ll take you home.”

Already Lisandra’s wet silk blouse was
plastered against her lace bra leaving nothing to the imagination,
her nipples hard and exposed for his visual pleasure. Without
waiting for her agreement, he yanked the car door open and helped
her in, then dashed to the other side with a glance heavenward.
“Thank you, Zeus.”

He couldn’t have planned it better
himself as he jumped into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.
The winds whipped into tornado strength, sending trees crashing
across the road.

Before Lisandra could react, the car
lifted, swirled, disappeared into a black void, and reappeared in a
sky filled with fluffy white clouds against a pale blue
backdrop.

He was home. His mission nearly
done.

With a jolt, the car landed on Mount
Olympus.

“
Ohmigod,” Lisandra said,
staring out the window. Clouds ringed the purple mountains. White
marble pillared porches of Grecian temples housing the various gods
and goddesses dotted the mountainsides.

“
Ohmigod,” Lisandra said
again, her hand resting on her breast.

“
Come, Lisandra. I don’t
think we’re going to be able to return the way we came.”

“
Ohmigod.”

He smiled. Aye, and
goddesses.

“
Let’s see if we can find
anyone, shall we?” Although he was hoping everyone would be
enjoying some time on the human’s world while he had Olympus all to
himself. He pulled her from the car, but her knees buckled, not
quite what he had expected, for a woman of learning, and who had
told such a great fairy tale.

Mayhap his mission wasn’t quite done.
Nay, as soon as he took her into the Pool of Wonders, she would
succumb to his every wish, and he hers.

Lisandra stared at the
spectacular vista, the
Greek
temples
built just like the Parthenon and
the temples on the Acropolis of old. “We’re not in Kansas anymore,”
she whispered under her breath.

Glancing at Asarian, she
thought he looked like one of the
Greek
statues
she’d studied in college. She
could imagine a grape leaf positioned over his naked privates, his
torso, legs and arms well muscled, his hair dark and curly, his
eyes aquamarine blue, a Grecian god carved in marble. She
envisioned a wreath of grape leaves encircling his head after
winning a marathon against competitors from other Greek states,
competing naked, his body shimmering in olive oil.

She wished she hadn’t given him the
T-shirt now as it hid many of his physical attributes that vied for
a prominent place with the other wonders of the world.

His arm wrapped around his waist,
supporting her, he led her toward a building where white marble
pillars decorated with the figures of maidens held up white
roofs.

“
Where…where are
we?”

“
Mount
Olympus.”

“
Right.”

Their footsteps echoed on the marble
floor and when they reached a circular pool of blue water, a woman
leaned against the edge, a goblet in one hand, her hair curled
around her fingers with the other, a smile affixed to her lips.
“Welcome, Asarian and…”

“
Lisandra,” she
offered.

The woman rose slightly in the water,
and Lisandra realized the woman was stark naked. Her heart raced in
overdrive. “You…you know her?”

“
Demeter, Goddess of the
Harvest,” the beauty said, her skin glistening with water, smooth,
toned, beautiful. “I’m leaving. Make yourselves at home.” She
glanced at Asarian and raised a brow, her lips smiling. “Hera told
me everything. Good hunting.” Winking, she stepped out of the pool,
then left the room.

Lisandra closed her gaping
mouth.

“
Would you like to swim?”
Asarian had already removed his T-shirt.

She stared at his bronzed chest. Her
gaze dropped lower. His shorts were already bulging. “I…I think I
need to find my way home.”

“
You’ve read
Greek mythology
,
aye?”

“
Well, yes, of
course.”

“
Here we have a library
filled with the deeds and stories of all the Greek gods, goddesses,
demi-gods and goddesses. Maybe you’d like to read them sometime.”
His fingers trailed down her arms to the tips of her fingers,
sending shivers through her. He raised her hands to his lips and
kissed each. “You have the prettiest hands.”

“
Right.”

He examined one, then the other. “’Tis
true. Every bone is delicate, perfect. Your skin is like
unblemished peaches.” He nuzzled her neck and her whole body
heated. “You smell like jasmine, sweet and summertime
fresh.”

His fingers pushed the pearl buttons
of her blouse through the holes. Too mesmerized by his actions, she
didn’t make a move to stop him. She was dreaming. It was all a
wonderfully sexy dream, and she didn’t want to ever wake
up.

Reaching up, she encircled his neck
with her arms and pressed her breasts against his bare chest. No
sense in letting the dream go to waste.