Dionysus (Greek God Romance Book 1) (16 page)

Artemis swiftly turned and had her bow in front of Dionysus’ face. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would and I wouldn’t stop for
years.

She slung her bow and placed the arrow back in its holster before Rebecca could blink again. Rebecca asked, “What will you be having?”

“Nothing for me.”

Dionysus said, “Why are you here?”

“I—uh—”

Rebecca suspected and said, “You did want a drink. I’ll whip you up something nice.”

Artemis did a slight nod and returned to her stoic manner.

Dionysus chuckled and found the bow pointed at his face again. “What’s the point of that?”

“It’ll hurt and that’ll make me feel good.”

Dionysus smirked. “I know what would make you hurt so much more.”

She squinted again and put the bow away. “You are a bane.”

“Thank you.”

“Not a compliment.”

“Rebecca,” he yelled, “make it stiff.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Who hunts with you these days?”

She did a sharp exhale. “I keep my own company.”

“Oh, hell, that’s terrible.”

The bow was pointed at his face once again. “You’re riding a fine line, Dionysus.”

“I never got you, Artemis. I mean, uh, I don’t get anyone all that much. But you. . . I don’t get how you ended up this way.”

“I am the way I was meant to be.”

“Bullshit.”

She chuckled. “
You
are the one that everyone thinks is peculiar.”

“I’ll cheers to that.”

Rebecca came back with a piña colada, figuring that Artemis must have heard from the “monsters” about the
famous
drink.

∞∞∞∞∞∞

One hour later. . .

“I need some dick.”

Dionysus mouth hung open, shock ran through his face. He almost had her repeat what she said. She obliged without him having to. “I need some dick.”

Rebecca put her arms on the counter. “Artemis, how have you gone all this time without having sex?”

Artemis sighed and said in semi-slurred speech, “Did you know I watched
The 40-year old Virgin
?” She continued before Rebecca or Dionysus could reply, “It is true. I did. I related so much to that guy. I tried to find him.”

Rebecca asked, “You tried to find the actor?”

Artemis laughed at herself. “I thought it was a documentary.”

They all laughed. She pursued, “Ah. . . I’m just
completely
inexperienced. And I’m too old, I can’t do it now. Everyone knows. Everyone knows I’m the virgin goddess. What can a girl do?”

Rebecca said, “You have to pull a Zeus.”

Dionysus tilted his head, intrigued. Artemis did the same.

Rebecca perused, “I read he would disguise himself to get into women’s pants.”

Dionysus agreed, “That is true. He is a con man. Con man was invented as a phrase to describe Zeus and the schemes he would use in his never-ending campaign to seduce women.” He gestured with his hand. “The craziest one I ever heard was he got himself locked up in prison.”

Rebecca said, “What?”

“It was insane. He had the hots for this girl who was into bad boys. She told him her obsession with criminals, and he got himself locked up to set up a conjugal.”

“That can’t be right.”

Artemis slurred, “I—I heaard that one too.”

Rebecca said, “All right, well, don’t go that far but you need to get out there.”

“Where?”

“Chicago.”

Dionysus shook his head. “She will kill too many people in Chicago.”

Rebecca frowned. “You’ll have to control that.”

“I caanot con—control my nature.”

“She’s got that right.”

“Heeey!” Her head bobbed around.

“How about this? If you’re serious, meet me at my apartment and we’ll go over some things.”

Dionysus said, “I don’t know about this.”

“Not your call.”

“That’s riiight, Dionysus. Not
your
call.”

“Fine. Fine. Don’t look for me when it goes sour.”

“I—I—I will talk to Apollo if it comes to that.”

“Oh, great, get another hothead in the mix.”

Rebecca laughed then filled up a glass with water and handed it to Artemis. “Let’s sober you up.”

HELLO, HERA. HELLO, ZEUS.

Dionysus and Rebecca walked down Zeus Boulevard. Dionysus was frightened for her safety in his company. He was even more frightened for her when she traveled alone, but he had to put these emotions aside. She was right. They had to live. Hiding and missing opportunities, it went against everything he stood for as a god.

Rebecca had not said anything about Hades’ note even after a love-making session last night that left her vulnerable and wanting to never let go of what she had. She realized to mention it would change everything and therefore work against her intentions.

They turned the corner around Heph’s shop to stroll and circle back to her apartment as they had done before; however, before any reaction could be mustered and tamed, mere steps away were Zeus and Hera.

Dionysus and Rebecca stopped. She meant to keep an air of casualness but was hampered by Dionysus’ look of dread.

Zeus and Hera kept their pace, bearing down on them. Dionysus took a big gulp. Here, the mother of the Olympians, better known as, the biggest bitch in the wild west.

It was tradition in Olympus, or anywhere a god ventured for that matter, to greet an elder god first. Dionysus almost stumbled on this fact as Hera raised an eyebrow.

“Hello, Hera. Hello, Zeus.”

Zeus said, “Greetings.” He turned to Rebecca gave her his winning glossy white smile, teeth as perfect as any dentist’s.

The act of whitening teeth had come about because of Zeus. Whenever he came to roam around a city and look for a good time with some lewd ladies, he smiled. This smile was always the whitest thing any mortal had encountered. The inspiration for the whitening procedure came to a particularly vain dentist who happened to find Zeus lying with his wife as the god whipped his head around and beamed without remorse.

Zeus felt slightly sullied by Rebecca’s forced smile in return. He blamed his wife for it and would hold it against her—another excuse to go out and be an adulterer for the upcoming night.

Hera said, “Hello, Dionysus.” Without looking at Rebecca, she continued, “Who keeps you company?”

Dionysus paused. Hera was a poisonous snake in high bush—one wrong step meant a devastating blow, he knew all too well. “This is Rebecca.”

Zeus said, “Oh, the talk of the town.” He bowed and kissed her hand. Who had been more displeased and irritated by the act was called into question, Dionysus or Hera.

Dionysus trusted Rebecca but. . . he could not tell Zeus that Rebecca and him were seeing each other, not that it would curb his advances, but at least he would ease up a bit. He could see it in his eyes. Zeus was enamored. He would have to be
very
careful with him.

And for Hera, she saw that her husband had found another toy. He was much like a boy traveling from toy to toy, and
especially,
wanting to play with a toy another was doing so with. Everyone in Olympus knew it. It was mildly surprising to her that the world did not. They had for a time but that was when they lived on Mount Olympus and he had fucked almost every woman that had legs to spread.

Rebecca said in deadpan, “Thanks.”

Hera said, “Where are you two off to?”

“Just walking.”

“A stroll for a couple?”

Zeus raised his eyebrows. As luck would have it, Rebecca could tell that Zeus had an interest in her and Hera had an interest in their relationship. It did not appear to her that Zeus cared either way—which was true. She knew that they needed a destination, a reason to be out wandering or it would look too suspicious to Hera. And given Hera’s history with Rebecca’s man, not a chance she wanted to take. If Hera had been a human, Rebecca would’ve walked up to her and punched her in the nose. But given her godly-hood, Rebecca decided the best course was evasion. “I’m sorry. I think he feels weird about saying what we’re up to.”

Dionysus said, “Uh?” Horror streaking across his face.

Zeus licked his lips like he was a lion about to feast on a zebra.

Hera’s eyebrows skyrocketed up and her eyes widened, seeing that she was about to confirm her suspicions and what Ares and her followers failed to do in one simple stroll in an afternoon. She said, “What could that be?”

Rebecca put on a performance, blushing then bowing her head, having one leg nervously move side-to-side. She said, “Well. . . um. . . Hestia did not stock me with any feminine products.”

Hera said abruptly, “Oh. . .?” She immediately clenched her jaw, infuriated with herself.

Zeus asked, “What do you mean?”

Hera slapped him the chest. “Mortals, the women bleed until a certain age from—”

“Ooooh. . .” He said then looking around. “How bad is it?” He wanted to know so that he could decide if he still wanted to have sex with her immediately. Hera smacked him the chest again and he made a slight cringe.

Rebecca looked over at Dionysus then bowed her head again. “He offered to take me to Hestia, so she could get me what I need.”

Hera said, “I see.”

Zeus not having been answered, asked, “Does it flow now?”

Hera smacked him again.

Dionysus scratched the back of his head and looked to the side. “So. . . we better get going.”

Zeus nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. I hope to see you around.”

Hera smacked him again then they walked away as she nodded a good-bye.

When they were no longer in earshot, which was about two blocks since they were gods and goddesses, after all. Dionysus said, “You know we have to go to Hestia now, or she’ll know you lied.”

Rebecca shrugged. “I had to ask her for them soon.”

He chuckled. “When?”

“I start in a week.” She looked at him and grinned. “Worked out well, huh?”

“Yes”—he nodded absently—“it did.”

“What’s the problem?”

“What happens when we bump into them again
if
we keep walking around Olympus from time to time?”

“You think?”

“Oh. . . Rebecca, I count on it.”

ANAL RECIPROCATION?

Early morning, crack of dawn, some unreasonable hour of the day where the sun just came over the horizon and its balmy rays could be felt on Earth. Artemis knocked on Rebecca’s door and she moaned, her voice cracked as she let out another groan, hoping that the pounding would stop.

It had been a few nights since Artemis’ drunken night where she confessed she wanted some p in the v—as Rebecca would refer to the conversation. Rebecca had thought that Artemis would never show up, not for a lack of wanting to, but because of her pride and the embarrassment she felt.

Rebecca answered the door, rubbing her eyes trying to will them to see the world and hope that it wasn’t the time she knew it to be.

She said groggily, “He—llo.”

Artemis barged through her. Rebecca stumbled back.

Artemis surveyed the apartment with her hands on her hips then said, “I’m here.”

Rebecca ran her hands down her face. “Yes, you are. Can I get you something?”

“No. Wait. Maybe.”

Rebecca went to the cabinet that she had Hestia’s followers stock with some human liquors. She grabbed a bottle of vodka, Grey Goose, nothing smoother in the morning and to wake her up—the both of them. She sat down two glasses in front of Artemis and poured into them, grabbing one then leaving the bottle on the table. She sat in a chair while Artemis sat on the couch.

Artemis downed the shot and poured another, doing this three times before taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to be here.”

“I see that.”

“It’s just so—so damn silly. I have to get advice from a mortal.” She sighed. “I’m too old for this.” She looked over to Rebecca seeing a smidgen of pity in them. “I normally kill anyone who looks at me so.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened, and she started the conversation up at an earlier point. The non-killing type of direction, the way she liked it. “You’re never too old. You’re a woman, a man can get too old, I suspect.”

“What if I’m terrible?”

“Do you remember the movie?”

“The 40-year old Virgin?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Of course, I remember. I never forget.”

“Right. . . What advice did the main character get?”

“When?”

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