Page 9 of Perfectly Matching Again

WHERE A GODDESS ASSERTS HER WILL (AND THE MUSE IS DEFINITELY INTO THAT)

The door behind Hera closed with another loud bang.

“Well, she has always been too dramatic for her own good.” If she was concerned about anything that had just happened, Demeter’s voice gave nothing away. She didn’t even tug at the now invisible thread, the ghost hold of which Erato still felt around her wrist and fingers. She stood there, shoulders thrown back, her face a mask of unperturbed calm, eyes emptied of emotion.

Erato hated seeing the usually serene features like this. But then, what did she know outside of sex? How often had she and the Goddess of Harvest really crossed paths?

Some random cabal here and there. Or a gathering Aphrodite dragged Erato to, since she never actually went to any of the events the Olympian’s organized on her own accord.

For someone whose job it was to ensure that sexy was back, Erato was never one to be recognized. And with Hades, and even Hera in her own fashion, showing her that she meant less than nothing, Erato could not fault her own impeccable decision making.

Still, for a brief moment in Vegas, Demeter’s face had not held the bareness that lived there now. Granted, Erato hadbeen knuckle deep in her, and very busy sucking bruises on her flawless shoulders, but such a sight sure did etch itself in a muse’s mind.

For some reason, Erato wanted to bring that blissed out look back, even if the tearing off of clothes would clearly no longer be involved, judging by the way Demeter was looking at her now.

As if she regretted her. As if she regretted Vegas and as if she regretted getting caught in a lip lock like a teenager by her older, meaner sister.

Erato stepped back, her own regrets suddenly too much for her pretty little head, and the moment she found herself six feet away from Demeter, her arm was pulled back. It wasn’t painful, not even truly uncomfortable, but it was undeniable.

“Ahem, I’d say this qualifies as over the top dramatic.” She ran the fingers of her free hand through the carefully mussed blonde strands and looked at Demeter for help. She even gave it her best puppy dog eyes. Which had the most unfortunate effect of making Demeter laugh. It was so unexpected, especially after the open regret a few moments ago, so out of place and yet so beautiful, Erato just stared. She immediately wanted to make Demeter laugh again. And again. She wanted to make it her mission in life to be the one who got Demeter to let out this carefree, joyful sound.

Then the dizziness of the realization passed, and Erato nearly smacked herself. Fates, what was going on in her head?

Meanwhile, Demeter, clearly oblivious to the totally uncharacteristic emotions she was eliciting, stepped closer and lifted her hand up, inspecting the charmed wrist. There was nothing there and yet Erato craved to place her lips where the pulse beat strong and steady?—

“I fear we shall have to go along with her charade for a bit, before Hera either reconsiders, or…” Suddenly, the previous carefree expression was gone.

“Or?” Erato prompted, but wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to know the answer.

Demeter was silent for far too long before looking over her shoulder where the sea was foaming and waves were crashing against the ginormous yacht.

“Or I start spring.” Erato couldn’t for the life of her understand that now familiar emptiness in the tone of the low voice.

“So start it. I mean, do the abracadabra thing, the blahditti, bloopitti… and voilà! Blooms, leaves, cats in heat, me running naked with the nymphs in the woods?—”

“Enough. There will be no nymphs or naiads or any other naked women. I shall start spring when I’m good and ready, Muse.”

Erato tucked a tuft of hair behind her ear and stared.

“I mean, okay, no nymphs and since I am afraid of the water, I have mostly steered clear of the naiads my entire life, but what do you mean when you’re good and ready? When will you be ready? In case this,” Erato tugged on the invisible thread and pulled Demeter ever so slightly towards herself, “is not inconvenient enough, can you imagine explaining to Hades, Persephone, fucking Zeus if he shows up, why you are literally attached to a muse? And to one who is so obviously beneath them?”

Demeter was about to interrupt her, of which Erato was certain, except the moment the final words landed between them, she closed her mouth and gave Erato one of those long looks through narrowed, calculating eyes.

Then, after apparently coming to some sort of decision, Demeter nodded to herself before speaking.

“It is inconvenient. But I am not ready for spring. Nor am I much for joining the damn orgies Zeus and his ilk will be starting any minute now to keep warm. I do have business totend to though, and if you’re so intent on ‘fixing this’ as you have assured Hades and myself since you arrived, maybe we could find a way to attend to said business of mine, while also making the appropriate pretenses at attempting to actually fix whatever this is. If you can spare some time away from your nymphs, that is…”

Demeter lifted her chin just a tad in clear challenge. Erato knew that look. The challenge in it. Was she up for it? And what was that “it” anyway? She wasn’t even entirely certain what it was she was meant to fix. And there was definitely something under the breezy—too breezy, if you asked Erato—dismissal of Hera and her demands for spring. “I’m not ready for it” was not a very subtle way of avoiding the whole truth.

But then nobody asked Erato. And she was just a muse. And so she extended her hand and clasped Demeter’s soft, warm palm.

“I’m in. With one condition.”

Demeter raised an eyebrow. What a cliché. All these Goddesses were so damn good at it. Surely they practiced, because it was the sexiest move a woman could pull and it was also in absolutely all the romance novels. Erato knew that much.

“Earlier silliness aside, there will be no repeat of Vegas, Muse, if that’s what you’re about to demand.”

The weariness in Demeter’s voice was loud and clear. Erato rolled her eyes at the assertion that kissing her was silliness and at the implication that she’d force anything. Like she’d ever blackmail a woman into sex. Yes, her stock on Olympus was pretty low, but out there? In the big wide world? Fates, all she had to do was whistle. Erato smirked and watched Demeter’s eyes narrow with something… Could it be? Did the gold in them for one tiny moment become tinged with acid green? Just to test herself and the seemingly unwelcoming water, Erato pulled on the hand still clasped in hers and saw Demeter visibly shiver.Her eyelids lowered, her lips trembled, and a shy tongue peeked out to moisten them. Oh, yeah… Silliness, of course.

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