Vegas Mythbehaving/C3 Miss Predictable: Chapter Three
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Vegas Mythbehaving/C3 Miss Predictable: Chapter Three
+ Add to Library

C3 Miss Predictable: Chapter Three

Stuck with Mr Hottie himself wasn’t the best of ideas. Cassandra fanned her face with her hand and strove for calm.

Soft breath touched her neck and ignited a firestorm right to her toes. She opened her mouth to squeak out a question.

Hermes placed his finger on her lips in the age-old sign for silence. She waited, breathless, as he feathered around them then slipped inside. Cassandra all but collapsed. The temptation to clasp him in her wet mouth battered at her willpower.

He eased his finger in and out. The imitation of such a carnal act had quivers of delight bashing on nerve endings, causing them to stir and tingle. His flavor exploded on her taste buds, bitter and sweet. Rich and tangy, like salted caramel. Contradictions.

Cassandra gasped as Hermes trailed his hand along her neck to the top of her breast. Arching her back, she invited him to go further.

Her arms went around his waist. She wanted this, wanted him. He affected her like a drug. She needed, hungered, for just one hit. To hell with her old self. When he touched her, she didn’t care if her drag-Mom-back mission failed or not.

A womb of dark sensuality cocooned them. The warm, closeted atmosphere of the elevator closed heavy about them. Their mouths met. Tongues dueled in a sexual fight where everyone was a winner.

“God, you taste good.” She couldn’t believe any of this. Her inhibitions crumbled. Hermes swept everything away. Nothing but him. His fingers skimmed over her chin, dipping onto her chest before flitting back to her shoulders.

She had to be closer, needed to climb inside him. She whimpered, clawed at his chest. Gripped him tightly and writhed against him. She was hungry, needed more. He consumed everything. There wasn’t a Cassandra anymore, just Hermes.

An explosion of sensual delights tantalized her every sense. The scent of him—raw maleness, coffee and sweet promise—enticed her to throw caution away.

With a groan that vibrated against his mouth, she mimicked his act of possession with her tongue. She caught his lip in a playful nip then sucked hard, sweeping her tongue over the bite. Hermes growled and pressed closer, the hard ridge of his erection nestling against her center.

Rational thought suddenly detonated. Sensations dragged her into a quicksand of passion as Hermes bucked against her. His movements sped up, each thrust of his hips diving Cassandra to distraction. She clung to him, hands about his neck, and gloried in the ride.

A maddened wolf-snarl ripped from him as he pushed her shirt aside and reached around behind her to unhook her bra. Her aching, swollen breasts sprang free and she breathed a sigh of relief at the release of constriction. He cupped her curves and her mind short-circuited, her breathing fragmented. She was so lightheaded she thought she might pass out. She struggled to fill her lungs then lost focus when his thumbs rubbed across her sensitive nipples. Hands clutching at his hair, she angled her head back and started to pant.

Growling, he bent toward her and took one nipple into his mouth. Cassandra moaned, the sound echoing around them. He caught her nipple between his teeth and rolled it hard.

God help her, she wanted him so badly. Without her brain giving the order, she slid one hand down and cupped his cock. He ground himself against her palm, groaning deep in his throat when she released him and concentrated on undoing the zipper of his trousers.

“God.” Her head dropped groggily. She swayed and stared unseeing at the back of Hermes’ head nestled against her.

Oh, if only my mother knew what I was up to, she’d no longer call me Miss Predictable. The thought of her mother blasted through her brain, breaking the web of sensuality holding her in thrall. The fog lifted, and her eyes widened. What the hell are we doing?

The silent question lost its impact when Hermes swapped to the other deprived breast. The warm blackness of the elevator took hold again. A strong scent of jasmine wafted around them and drew her back into the web. She wanted to scream and shout. Claim him with teeth and claws. Mark him as hers.

They both moaned as they moved together. His reaction made Cassandra powerful, a goddess. Every time they brushed, the hint of jasmine thickened, encouraged them to writhe faster. Touch harder. She wanted him now or insanity would claw her mind away.

He tugged at her pants and tore them away. She grabbed his shoulders and clung to him for dear life, her short nails marking sharp grooves into the fabric of his shirt.

First one, then two fingers deep. She lost her smile, couldn’t catch a breath.

White-hot fire ripped through her. A sea of bliss rolled over her and brought her down in a spiral. She rode his hand and the wave of sheer delight.

The pleasure crested, and she broke into heavy pieces as she came. Short and sweet, but the passion aroused between them rocked her foundations and put a Grand Canyon crack in her control.

Hermes dragged her to a wall and lowered his weight until their bodies meshed.

He ground his cock against her mound and his own shattered growl mixed with her lighter moan. The curl of his breath snaked over her neck and shoulder. Who knew she had so many erogenous zones?

He shifted and a crackle ripped through the elevator, a gunshot of noise. She flinched and her lethargic state of satisfaction lessened. She focused in the dim light on what lay in his hand. The faint glow of the emergency lights showed the metallic wrapper of a condom. Reality dropped a bombshell. God, sex in a public elevator?

Cassandra pushed against Hermes, shoving him away from her. Shaking her head, she forced the remnant of fog away from her addled brain.

“Stop. I can’t. How could I be so stupid?”

“Pardon? Us together is stupid?”

Her answer flowed without fight. “The power of your reactions magnified tenfold. Miss Predictable had inducement not of her own making. Now fix the fallout.” Could the words be just a tad more helpful?

Hermes ran his fingers to the juncture of her thighs and she couldn’t control the involuntary lift of her hips.

“You deny this? Is this a game you’re playing?”

She fought the rising tide of desire and shame. Grabbing her clothing, she then tried to put a barrier between them. Her hands trembled. The decision to pull away left her weak. Her answer slipped quietly from her tightened lips. “The question should be who is playing games with the unwary?”

Hermes moved away from her as the lights flickered on and the elevator jerked upward. His gaze bored a hole straight through her heart.

What must he think of me?

She flinched from his soul-searching stare and closed her eyes. She was a fool for allowing her needs to overwhelm her, but she’d had no choice. He consumed her. She’d lost herself. She’d never experienced obsession, but that’s what it felt like. Cassandra fought a tide of bile. She’d been controlled and wanted to run now. Shame buffeted her when she caught the sweet scent of release filling the air.

What have I done?

Steeling herself, she opened one eye. She had little time to dress before the doors opened.

The driving, clawing sensation to have him eased, but the need to see him naked still simmered, a rioting heartbeat away.

“No games. I don’t do that. With men, I’m Miss Predictable. Meet them and ignore them. Sometimes I have boring, quiet sex with a close friend, but that’s it.” Cassandra swallowed hard and wondered why that admission had popped out. A tangled knot in her throat threatened. Her chest rose and fell with a shudder, a by-product not of their passion, but of her tension.

Hermes, now fully dressed, the image of sartorial elegance, towered over her. He must have dressed lightning quick while she’d hyperventilated. Her fingers raced along the front of her blouse. She smoothed her hair and pushed from the wall until she stood opposite him. She knew she wanted him, but at what price? Her own self-worth? Her sanity? He was more than she could handle.

“You’re less predictable than you realize. I didn’t coerce you. We were both participants. Granted, an elevator isn’t the best place. But when an opportunity presents itself…” He raised his eyebrows.

Cassandra chewed her lip. “I’m not like that .” The last word came out more forceful than she’d intended. “Whatever women you’re used to, buddy, that ain’t me. Mature women do not have indiscriminate sex in elevators with strange men,” she yelled into his face.

Hermes rubbed the back of his neck. His pinched, tight expression dropped as he shifted and traced the side of her cheek instead.

“Did I hurt you? Did I imagine your groans and the nail marks on my shoulders?”

She gulped and focused on his chin. His strong, masculine chin and the slight darkening of stubble. A peppery hint of danger dissipated the scent of jasmine. It was easier to form words instead of drooling. For all that she loved routine, his unpredictable nature appealed. God only knew why . Maybe her base side wanted out. And now he’d asked her a question and she couldn’t lie to save her ego or bolster her own delusions.

“No. You didn’t hurt me. As for screams and nail marks, you were spot on. But whether or not you get lucky again will be the fates’ decision…” Cassandra bowed her head. She was over this truth disease.

Hermes leaned closer and purred in her ear. “I was lucky and so were you. Admit it to yourself if you are too much of a coward to speak out loud. You wanted me. Your inhibitions disintegrated. Now you can’t handle it.”

She placed her hands on his chest. Fighting not to give in and snuggle, she made a snap decision and—pushed. Hermes fell against the other side of the elevator and glowered back at her.

“Excuse me? You need to get a life.” Cassandra narrowed her eyes and rocked back on her heels. “Fine, I’ll be a rational adult. I liked and wanted you, but I changed my mind. You won’t control me.”

And that was what had happened. He’d been in control the entire time. Sure, she might have been a willing participant, but he’d been the driver. And it wouldn’t happen again.

Hang on… Why shouldn’t it? Why not use some time for her? Always the predictable one. For once, she’d be the passionate one, the demanding one—but only if she controlled their relationship. She’d find her mom and leave him before he left her .

That was if he wanted to spend time with her. Most guys wrote her off as hard work.

She drove him insane. Hermes ground his teeth and ignored the flash of pain ripping through his chest. She’d pushed him away. Why did it matter if she wouldn’t acknowledge their connection? Her reactions were a mass of crossed signals.

The elevator floor vibrated underneath him. Hermes shoved himself off the wall. “I have a life, thank you. As for being a rational adult, we’ll see.”

Hermes’ stomach roiled, and bile seeped into the back of his throat. He should have told her after she sprayed her spritzer what had happened. But he hadn’t wanted to stop her, and now she’d run screaming, her outrage plain. He needed her. He growled again as she smiled saccharine sweet.

“Cassandra, there’s something I have to tell you.” He had to explain Aphrodite’s potion. She’d never forgive him otherwise.

“Hermes. I’ve changed my mind.”

She sidled up to him and trickled fingers along his arm. “In fact, I’ve made a decision. Why not have sex? Be together?” She coughed. “Maybe not in an elevator, though.”

Confusion rolled through him. Did she mean it? Did she want him? Without the potion? Hermes grabbed at straws and winced at his eager image. A mature adult and he was desperate for her crumbs.

“No more chances.”

“I’ve decided. You only have to agree to me being in charge.”

Hermes shoved his hands into his pockets and shuffled forward, forcing Cassandra to move away. He curled his hands into fists, the nails digging into tender flesh as he struggled against his need to grab her and pull her close. May the gods help him, he couldn’t walk away.

The god brought low by a mortal. How the nymphs would talk. The Fates knew why, but Cassandra was important to him.

“Whatever you want, I agree. But in my hotel I rule. Got it?” He held his breath, waiting for her answer.

She smiled and settled herself next to the door. “Whatever you say, Hermes, but remember, this is only until I find my mother.”

He groaned and rested against the elevator wall. “Your mother. What’s she going to say?”

Cassandra turned and raised her eyebrows. “What else? If only she was twenty years younger…”

Libre Baskerville
Gentium Book Basic
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