Mr. Muse (4 page)

Hermes smiled. “No problem. Eric, Cassandra’s out at the moment, but she’ll want to catch up with you. I’ll give you a call when she gets back. Did you want me to send Kyla up when you’re dressed?”

Cassandra? Kyla? Who were they and why did they want Eric? Missy bit her tongue. Unfamiliar pangs gripped her stomach. Cramps or hunger? Eric was her partially naked invisible hunk, at least for the moment. If it had been him in her room when she’d been writing her love scene, then she needed his inspiration to write the rest of the manuscript, otherwise her career was done. And if she had fun along the way, at least it would make for good research for her next book.

“Great, Hermes. Tell Cassandra hello for me.”

Cassandra again? How many women did this guy have after him? Missy fought against the pull of his arm as he towed her into the elevator and out the other side after only a short ride.

She was no submissive to be ordered and pushed around like a virginal heroine. Not anymore. Her ex had cured her of that. She was a take-charge woman now. Her hand and no one else’s held the reins.

Her throat grew dry and her teeth clenched. She bit back the caustic words trembling on her tongue while Eric swiped a card through a lock on the suite door.

He shoved her into the entranceway and shut the door behind them.

“So how long do we have to lie low from the government? Are you going to expose your agency online or through a shadowy journalist willing to break the story?” She snapped her fingers. “Or are you the mercenary type and you’re selling your invention to the highest bidder?” Missy shook her head. “Money is great, but considering your family owns this place, you don’t need the cash. So I go with exposé.”

Eric’s eyes bugged out of his head. “What are you babbling about?”

“Because of your invisibility potion and the fact quasi good guys will use it for covert activities that break your moral ethics.”

Eric snorted. “Okay, I am not a secret agent. I’m a teacher.”

“Of course.” Missy winked at Eric. “Just like Indiana Jones, except take out artifacts and add in the invisible stuff. You can trust me.” She mimed locking her lips and throwing away the keys.

Eric banged his head against the wall. “I’m here to help you work. That’s it. No secret stuff.”

“You are helping. This intrigue is great for external tension. But none of my stuff is here, except for my flash drive.” Missy pulled it out of her pocket and swung it around her finger.

“You can always work in the suite. Hermes can get you something to write on.”

Poor man. He was trying so hard to make everything normal for her. But he had such a pained expression on his face that she wondered if he’d hurt his head while banging it on the wall. “Thanks, I’m on a deadline.” Missy stared around the opulent cream and gold suite. “So is this a cover? Are we booked in here under an alias? Because I’ve always wondered what my secret agent name is.”

“I. Am. Not. A. Secret. Agent. If you weren’t nutty, you’d understand.” He zoomed to the stocked mini bar and grabbed a beer.

Nutty?
Here she was admiring his muscles and he called her names.
That’s it. The last straw.
“How dare you? In a few hours I’ve had a naked intruder and my house blown up—not to mention being dragged without any consultation to a casino. You might be an ax murderer. And you can’t even offer me a beer? Well, go to hell.”

She marched over to Eric and swiped the beer out of his hand, raising it to her mouth before taking a long swallow.

A dribble of beer drizzled out of the corner of her mouth and down the side of her throat. She let it go.
Take that, you ass
. Missy smirked, toasted him with his own beer and wondered what he’d do next.

She didn’t have to wonder long. He turned and took six steps toward her before pausing and dragging in a deep breath.

“I’m sorry your computer and half your house exploded, but I didn’t put the bomb there. However, I was there, naked, watching you enjoy your writing and I did save your shapely ass from frying. Pardon me if I don’t seem too concerned about consulting you when I’m busy doing the saving thing.”

The words tumbled from his mouth in a soft purr. Missy swallowed the lump that appeared by magic when he’d mentioned her butt and naked in the same breath. She’d wanted a reaction. Feminine satisfaction cartwheeled inside at the image of this strong, erotic man stalking her. But on second thoughts, Eric might be a bit harder to handle than she’d thought.

His eyes narrowed and his teeth were bared.

Missy may have bitten off more than she could chew. Time to backtrack. A sense of self-preservation had her backing up a few paces.

Whatever he’d planned, Missy didn’t want to know. Maybe ignorance was bliss.

Chapter Three

Was this woman on drugs? Hadn’t he saved her from a towering inferno of a computer? Hadn’t his head been sideswiped by a bust of his boss, Apollo, the God in charge of the Muses? Did Eric complain about Workers’ Compensation for an injury on the job? No, all he’d done was save her and she bitched about lack of consultation. Eric considered leaving until he cooled down.

On the other hand, he could tie her to the bed and inspire her. He did have a job to finish here and until she completed the book or released him, she had a Muse of erotic inspiration. What better way than hands-on experience?

Eric felt like a large predator when her body quivered. He grinned savagely as she twisted to the side and took off for the back of the suite, bolting for exactly where he wanted her to go—the bedroom.

The scent of smoke perfumed the air as he followed her. Stalked her. Projected a sense of menace. He wanted her off center, the way he’d been since watching her touch herself in front of him. He pushed the closed door open and moved into the bedroom. He paused and stared at her. His mouth twitched and he forced himself to stifle his laughter. Missy stood next to the bed brandishing a lamp at him.

“I’m sorry, Eric. You got me out of the house, but aren’t you behaving a tinge psychotic? I haven’t met you before. You might be an escaped mental patient for all I know.”

“Have you any idea how turned on I was when I saw you touching yourself? When you stroked your fingers in and out? Hell, even what you wrote on that damn computer.”

“I had no clue you were there. Well, I
thought
I saw someone, but figured it was my imagination. I assumed no one was there when I…er…”

He raised his eyebrows. “When you came, Missy?”

Her pulse pounded a visible beat at the base of her throat. It wasn’t just anger moving her. He saw how dilated her pupils were, her hard nipples pebbled under her shirt. Their games were getting to both of them. He was rock hard and liable to stay that way until he found relief.

Eric wanted to sink his teeth into her and bite until she howled. He wanted to taste her. Thrust his tongue deep into her core. Draw her clit into his mouth and apply enough pressure to make her scream out his name when he made her climax. Then he’d start all over again. Bury his cock to the hilt in her pussy until they were both so satiated they couldn’t move.

His cock hardened, pushing against the fabric of his borrowed sweatpants. His balls tightened and he knew if he didn’t stop with the raunchy scenarios, he’d never last and, by the Gods, he wouldn’t be satisfied with a quickie.

“You asked for me, Missy. Your exact phrasing… ‘Please, please send a Muse here, because unless I can write red-hot scenes, I’m out of a job’. And that’s me, Mr. Muse, and I plan on delivering the goods.”

“What? How on earth did you know what I was thinking? I didn’t say it aloud.”

“I’m a Muse and I inspire erotic poems and stories and you asked for me.”

“Right, so no invisible potion, but you are a Muse from Greek mythology. Like that’s any easier to swallow. I prefer my mad-scientist-on-the-run idea.”

“I’m more than up to the job of inspiring you to whatever erotic escapades you need to fulfill you.”

“You mean my characters.”

He smiled again at her and watched her shift restlessly on the spot. “Whatever floats your boat.”

Jerking forward, he grabbed the bottle of beer she’d kept hold of and with the other hand, threw the lamp on the bed. Time to show Missy what he meant.

Moving her backward until her ass hit the wall, he bought the icy bottle of almost-empty beer up to her mouth. Condensation had pooled around the outside. He rubbed it across her parted lips. Tipping the bottle up, he allowed a minute trickle of beer to run out. His eyes followed the motion of the liquid.

Saliva pooled in his mouth at the thought of following it with his tongue. A harshly drawn breath from Missy snagged his attention again and he concentrated on moving the bottle against her satiny jaw and neck. She arched and he eased the glass to her luscious breasts. Her hard-tipped nipples jutted out from under her thin shirt and he moved the top of the bottle over her right nipple, eased around it and over the top until she moaned a sharp, breathless pant at him.

Switching the bottle to her left nipple, he lavished the same attention on it. Soon the glass warmed and Eric needed her so badly, his hands shook and his legs wavered. The bottle fell from his hand and hit the carpet. He ignored it, more intent on watching Missy.

Giving in to her heady temptation, he leaned forward and slowly licked her cleavage. He shuddered when her taste exploded on his tongue. Sweat, smoke and her spicy scent overwhelmed his senses. He moved his mouth to a nipple and bit gently through the cotton of her shirt.

Her strangled cry was all the encouragement he needed. Eric suckled hard, pressing the fabric-covered tip to the roof of his mouth. She arched her body, head thrown back and breathy little mewls coming from her mouth. Eric covered her other breast with his hand, tweaking the nipple between thumb and forefinger as he continued to feast on its twin.

Three more hard sucks had her stiffening and shaking, panting out his name. The climax caught her up and damn near dragged him along with it. The scent of female arousal in the room intensified. Musky. Earthy. Hell on his senses. He released her breasts and wrapped his arms tightly about her body. Nuzzling her throat, he jerked his hips and ground against her, his cock nestling between her thighs. He groaned, moving his hips forward and backward in a pale imitation of what he really wanted to do.

Eric shuddered when Missy slid one hand around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair. Another groan ripped from his throat as she inched her other hand down his front until her fingers trailed across his heavy erection. His cock jerked in reaction when she traced his length up one side and down the other. Then she angled her hand down and cupped the weight of his testes. She squeezed, the pressure gentle but firm, and he thought he’d gone to heaven.

He dragged in a sharp breath. His knees shook and for a moment, he thought he might end up on his ass on the floor, so great was the sexual overload. Hunger rode him, deep and hard, and it took all his control to keep it in check.

He wasn’t certain where this would end, but damned if he could walk away. Hell, he’d be lucky if he could walk at all. High-school teachers didn’t normally experience one-night stands after having a house blown up around them. No wonder his sister was on maternity leave if she saw this type of action.

Conscious thought exploded when Missy eased her hand into his pants and he felt her warm fingers clasp his cock. Lightning flashed through him and he threw his head back. His entire universe focused on this one amazing woman, not to mention those hands.

“Pardon for interrupting, but this is room service. Oh, I see you’re already being serviced. I’ll call back later.”

Shoved rudely back into reality when the dry voice announced its presence, Eric broke away from Missy, both breathing heavily. They turned to stare at the woman interrupting.

“Kyla. Uh, I’ll be right out.” Shit, his cousin had an impeccable sense of timing. He moved temptation—called Missy—away from him and strode toward the door. A time out would cool the fire between them. The last thing he needed was a workplace sexual harassment case brought against him by a sexy, nutcase writer. A nymph had been hit with one last year until a lot of money had made it go away.

He smiled when he reached up to give Kyla a hug and imagined Missy doing the same. His cousin was taller than he was and he hit almost six feet.

* * * *

The bastard had sidetracked her away from her questions by rubbing a beer bottle against her breast. How tacky. She was definitely repressed, should she get a bigger vibrator? Damn it. Men were fickle. Look at her ex and the way he’d run off with her friend. Missy stormed out of the room looking for someone to hit and ground to a halt at the sight of Eric hugging the women who’d interrupted them.

“Put it away, Eric. You’ll take someone’s eye out with that thing.”

Kyla’s gravelly tone hit her like a sledgehammer. Eric stood laughing with his large cock erect like a flagpole.

“Occupational hazard of the job, I’m told. Why did you think Era’s on maternity leave? Anyway, I have a bigger problem than this.”

“Really? From here you don’t look like you have any problem that could be bigger at all.”

Missy stuck her finger in her mouth and mimed vomiting on the carpet. Please, who did these people think they were, Laurel and Hardy?
Ha, I’ve seen bigger appendages on…on Mr. Happy than on Eric.
Okay he was a vibrator and Eric real life, but still, size counted.

“Thanks for the compliment, but we do have a problem. Missy’s house exploded, a bomb on her computer. They probably knew I’d be there.”

What bomb? He was going to be there? What was she, chop suey?

“You think this was a hit on you? What about the busty blonde over there?”

“Hey, who you calling busty? I’m curvaceous. Get it right.” Missy sneered back at the mouthy witch in front of her. They both ignored her and kept on talking.

“She’s a romance writer. Who would try and blow her up? No, I think it might be the faction of Demi-Gods protesting our interaction with the humans again.”