Grounded (2 page)

"You’re welcome," he said and smiled at her as he reached for the doorknob. He paused a
moment and looked at her kindly. "By the way, I might know of a place that’s hiring." He handed her a business card. "Come by in the morning, you might be surprised."

"Thank you," she said and took the card from him. His fingers brushed hers and again,
she felt an electrical shock run up her arm. She watched him step into the elevator and waved as the doors slid closed. Then, shutting the door of her apartment and leaning with her back against it, she squealed, "Oh-my-god! I don’t believe this!"

She looked at the business card
.
Dionysu
s
was printed in the middle of the card, followed by an address and phone number, but it gave no hint as to what his business might be.

Patty sighed. It didn’t matter, though, maybe her luck just changed for the better.

Dion slid onto the barstool and ordered a vodka tonic, which he didn’t drink, but only used for affect. When Dion was in the human realm, he was in his element. Humans were so easily manipulated, especially the females. In the realm of the gods, Dion was really no different than everyone else. Every male in his world was tall, blonde, muscular, powerful, telepathic… but in the human world, Dion was the god he’d been born to be.

Just because he enjoyed it, just because he reveled in it, just because he used it to his
advantage, his brother, Ira, got all pissy. Ira needed to lighten up. No, Ira needed to get laid.

And that was exactly what Dion was planning on doing tonight. He hadn’t been on the
barstool for more than two minutes before three big-boobed, long-legged, scantily dressed women in high-heels surrounded him. Two brunettes and a redhead had their hands all over him and their lips battled with his. Sliding off the barstool, Dion wrapped his big arms around the trio and escorted them out the door.

Squeezing into his 1957 300 SL
Gullwing was nearly impossible, but somehow they managed. For Dion, driving the hot sports car was like putting on a shirt that was three sizes too small, or shoes that belonged to his mother. If not for the unique wing doors, he doubted he’d be able to fit at all. But the women loved it.

Driving them to the Continental Suites, an exclusive, richly appointed hotel where Dion
kept a penthouse as his own personal den of iniquity, he escorted the three ladies through the lobby and into an elevator. He inserted his key into the panel, insuring the elevator wouldn’t stop until it reached the uppermost level of the hotel. The elevator exited directly into his apartment. As they stepped into the living room, all three women

ooh’d
and
ahh’d
at the opulent decor. Of course, Dion would have settled for nothing less. If he couldn’t have the finest there was to offer in this world, what would be the point?

Tiffany, Devon, and
Chrissy giggled with one another as Dion opened three bottles of champagne and gave one to each woman. They turned the music up loud and the women began dancing together while drinking their champagne, and it wasn’t long before what clothing they wore wound up on the floor. Braless, wearing thongs that were no more than tiny pieces of rectal-floss, the three women discarded their empty bottles and were soon rubbing their hands over one another. Dion, who had already shed his own clothing, simply lay back on the king-sized bed, propped up with pillows and watched the show.

Tiffany wrapped her arms around
Chrissy and kissed her deeply, while cutting her eyes over at Dion. He smiled and patted the bed beside him. Breaking the kiss, Tiffany slunk her way to the bed and crawled on all fours up onto the mattress. Licking a line from the sole of his foot, up his leg and over his stomach, she stretched out on top of him. Her mouth tasted of the champagne she’d drunk, and her tongue knew exactly what to do with his.

While she kissed him, Devon and
Chrissy joined them. Chrissy sucked his cock, and Devon lay on her back between Tiffany’s legs and lapped at her pussy. Dion took it all in, allowed them to use his body for their pleasure, even as they gave one another pleasure. Devon nudged Chrissy from between Dion’s legs and mounted him, sheathing his hard dick deep inside her pussy. Tiffany straddled Dion’s face, sitting with her pussy just above his mouth while his tongue flicked over her clit. She was facing Devon and the two women began kissing and massaging one another’s tits. On her knees between Dion’s legs, Chrissy pressed her tits against Devon’s back, and reaching around, she massaged her tits.

The women intermittently traded places. Sucking Dion’s cock, kissing him, sitting on his
face, riding him. They also licked each other’s pussies, and sucked each other’s nipples, until they all wound up completely exhausted, satisfied, and sleeping soundly. They spent two days and nights in bed, getting up occasionally to wrestle with each other in the large Jacuzzi, to lather one another in the shower, or to allow room service to enter and bring more food and drink.

On Monday morning, Dion slid from beneath the tangle of arms and legs, went into the
bathroom and stepped into the shower. Lathering up, he washed his hair, then brushed his teeth and thought about the day to come. There was a girl with shoulder-length dark hair he was going to see today. Patty would call his office and he couldn’t wait to hear her voice, to see her again.

Thinking of his first meeting with her, Dion pictured her as he’d first seen her. He’d
simply been strolling along, and had no intentions of picking up a woman. Yet there she was, sprawled on the sidewalk, pleading for someone to help her, but as was typical of most city-dwellers, no one had the time to notice a solitary female with a broken heel, trying to get herself together and out of the way before she was trampled.

Flustered and frustrated, she’d been a vision that he wanted to get to know better, so
he’d picked up some of the things that’d spilled from the box she was carrying, and instead of putting everything back in the carton, he’d slipped a couple of envelopes with her name and address on them into his jacket pocket. It would get him another meeting with her, he knew, and it had. He was extremely pleased with himself for having figured it out on his own, not having used a single bit of the magic that was always at his disposable. Of course, he rarely had to use magic in the human realm. Mortals really were quite a naïve lot.

Quietly dressing so as not to wake his three sleeping companions, he left an envelope
with three thousand dollars on the dresser and a little note thanking them for the terrific weekend. Whether they’d be offended by the implication of the money, he didn’t know, and he didn’t really care. Money was the universal common denominator. Even if they voiced faux indignity over the cash to one another, they’d take it and be secretly thrilled by such a gift.

~ * ~

Twenty minutes later, Dion opened the door to his office. He kept a suite in one of the most prestigious office complexes in town, and even though he didn’t need to, he actually did business as a security consultant. He had seventeen employees who were at the top of their field and the business did very well. Well enough that he also employed three accountants and a former IRS man who did his taxes. Dion grinned. Yeah, he even paid taxes!

"Ms. Reed," he said cheerfully, "how are you this morning?"

"Wonderful, Mr. Vine. How was your weekend?"

"Same as usual." He grinned and went into his private office.

Still thinking about Patty James, Dion looked out the window that filled the wall behind his desk. The city lay before him, the river and mountains in the distance. What was it about the girl that captivated him? She was nervous to a fault, very naïve—she’d allowed a complete stranger into her home—and she seemed unable to carry on a decent conversation. Much shorter than his six-foot-four-inches, with hair the color of honey, eyes that weren’t exactly green, but not exactly gray either, she was not even close to being his type. He liked the long-legged, model types… the ones who were short on conversation because they had better things to do with their mouths.

Yet, there was something intriguing about Patty, som
ething that drew him to her. He couldn’t quite put a name to it, what it was about her that called to him, but he was going to find out.

Shortly after nine, Dion’s intercom buzzed. "Yes," he said smiling. He already knew what
the call was about.

"There is a Ms. James to see you, Mr. Vine. And she doesn’t have an appointment," his
secretary added.

"That’s quite all right, Ms. Reed. Send her in." He clicked off and stood as the door
opened and Ms. Reed ushered Patty inside. Dion caught the look on her face as she gave Patty the once-over. "Thank you, Ms. Reed. Please bring coffee and beignets, and then I don’t want to be disturbed for any reason."

Ms. Reed nodded curtly and shut the door.

Patty stood just inside the door, looking extremely nervous.

"Good morning, Ms. James. How are you?" He offered his hand.

"I’m fine," she replied, taking his hand. The same feeling of an electrical current raced up her arm and Patty felt her knees begin to shake
.
I’m going to carry on a decen
t
conversation an
d
no
t
act like an idiot today
,
she told herself. "How are you Mr. Vine?"

Dion Vine. D. Vine
.
Patty almost laughed out loud as the thought crossed her mind, and

she wondered if he realized it, too. "Please call me Patty."

"And you can call me Dion. I think we are past the formality stage, anyway," he said with a chuckle.

"Yes," she agreed, smiling. "I think we are."

"Please, sit down," he offered.

"Thank you." She took a seat in a comfortable, oversized chair just as Ms. Reed returned
with the coffee and pastries. Everything smelled wonderful and Patty’s stomach growled loudly. She blushed. "I’m sorry."

Ms. Reed frowned but said nothing as she left the room.

"No need to apologize," Dion assured her. "Help yourself to a beignet while I pour the coffee."

"Thank you," she said and reached for the plate of scrumptious-looking pastries. Patty
almost hadn’t come downtown this morning. After lying awake most of the night, obsessing over the situation and her lack of a job, she had decided that Dion was just being nice to her, feeling sorry for her. That he was taking pity upon a real loser and she just didn’t want to be humiliated any further. But after finally falling asleep sometime around three in the morning, she’d dreamed of him. And my, what a dream it had been!

Patty had awakened looking around to see if he was actually ther
e, and then she checked herself to make sure she wasn’t nude like she’d been in the dream! The only reason she actually did come to his office was so she could get one more look at him.

Dion watched as she licked icing from her thumb then took another bite, her tongue
snaking out to lick her lips. An innocent action on Patty’s part, he was sure, but what it did to him was anything but innocent. Sipping from his coffee cup, he wondered what it was about this particular woman that had him tangled up like this. He’d had hundreds of women over the past several thousand years, and yet, not a single one had lingered in his mind for more than a few days, at most. Women were handy to have around if a man needed someone to cook, or clean, or fuck, but in the modern era, he’d not even needed one around for the cooking or cleaning.

Now here was this woman in front of him who was causing all kinds of weird thoughts to
go through his brain, along with emotions he’d never had before. The thoughts weren’t really bothering him so much as the emotions were. Emotional over a woman? How was that possible? On top of that, he wasn’t even sure what those emotions were. On the other hand, he was very sure what the thoughts were. Very basic, very primal, and the desire to have her naked and beneath him was nearly overwhelming. Tipping the coffee cup back, he drained it. Then he clenched his jaw as half a cup of very hot liquid burned all the way down.

"Are you all right?" Patty asked.

Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, Dion forced a smile. "Yes, thank you."

"If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is the position you told me about at my
apartment?"

The position? His mind whirled around the possibilities of that idea, but he remained a
gentleman, much to his chagrin. Smiling, he looked at her and answered, "I am in need of a personal assistant."

"What about Ms. Reed? I thought—"

"She is my secretary," he said. "What I need is someone who is able to travel, to take notes, transcribe tapes, keep me organized and schedule appointments. It’s a hectic pace when I’m traveling and I have enough to do without trying to keep up with everything else."

"I’m sorry, but I don’t even know what you do here, and you don’t even know my
qualifications."

Dion sat in the chair opposite her, taking her in as he watched her pick up her coffee cup
and take a sip. The sun was starting to slant through the window and rays of light danced off her hair, bringing out the red tones hidden in her deep brown tresses. No, she wasn’t what he’d call beautiful, not in the classical sense, but she was pretty, young, and soft. She was also more innocent than any woman he’d ever known. Not that he thought she was virginal—that had nothing to do with it. There was more to her than met the eye.

              Unassuming. That was the word that came to mind. What you saw with Patty was exactly what you got. Folding his hands together, he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees.

"I’m a security consultant," he told her. "I test security systems for private individuals
and corporations alike. I make sure the things they want protected are truly protected."

"So you’re like a technician that makes sure their burglar alarms work?"