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But he and Pothos are too busy rounding the corner of the bookcase.
I make it there before them, finding Aradia doubled over on the floor, clutching her splitting sides and laughing. “If he’s impotent, considermehis Viagra!”
“OhmyfuckingZeus!” Pothos curses.
“Oh. My. Fucking. Cherub!” Himeros gazes down at her, eyes widening, studying her mortal glow.
I growl, lowering my eyes to Aradia, plotting countless methods of revenge on her pretty bottom.
Crescendo chuckles in the background, playingI Knew You Were Troubleby Taylor Swift.
“Who is she? Who is she? Who is she?” Pothos jumps up and down, nearly pouncing, but I grab his fanciful collar and jerk him back.
I narrow my eyes upon her. “I’m going to take a fucking belt and bloody your backside, Butterfly.”
And like the brat she is, she bats her eyes at me before sticking out her tongue.
“Oooh!” She jerks up, eyeing Himeros. “Did you bring back any of those heart-shaped sunglasses? I might be a bit of a Valentine’s Day slut, but don’t tell him.” She points at me and giggles.
“Himmy!” Pothos whines and scrambles over to him. “She’s a mortal, she’s a mortal!”
“Thosie, quit tapping on my back like that Morse Code operator we did back in 1901. I have eyes, too,” says Himeros.
Muttering under my breath, I make my way to Aradia and lift her to her feet, regretting my choice of her clothes today since the pastel pink dress is far too sheer, displaying the rosy circle of nipples that pebble as I press her close to me, gratified when she touches my stone chest and leans in.
Himeros blinks, and I imagine his brain is short-circuiting.
Chuffing a laugh because I should have known it was inevitable, I make the introductions. “Aradia, this is Himeros, the God of Desire. And Pothos, God of Longing. Brothers, this is a little Butterfly who wandered into my realm and has become somewhat of a leech. Aradia.”
“Call me Aria,” she tells them, glancing between each.
Himeros takes the lead as always and steps toward us. I bare my teeth into a snarl when he gets a little too close while his eyes lower to study her breasts.
“Yes, her tits are quite full and exquisite. Now, quit looking at them!” I bark.
When Himeros leans in to cup her cheek with a tilt of his head, I stiffen, vying with all my strength not to shove him away. “What a marvelous little monster she is!”
Fuck…should’ve known he would fathom her energy.
Aradia curtsies with a proud grin before lifting her hand like claws and saying, “Rawr.”
Longing sweeps into a bow, but he takes it further and gets down on one knee while scooping up her hand. “My Lady, I grovel at your feet!”
She swings her head to me, tugs at my arm, and leans in to ask me a question.
“No, Butterfly. We arenotfucking adopting them,” I say firmly.
“Eros, in all seriousness, what the bleeding hearts?” Himeros interjects, his eyes instinctively skirting across her breasts and lowering to her sex. “A mortal in Purgatory? And an untried maiden!”
“Hey!” she protests, brushing her curls out of her face and knitting her brows into a frown. “I thought I was a monster.”
Pothos gapes. Himeros deadpans with me. “Eros, you have some explaining to do.”
“Aww,” she pouts, flirting openly, and I can’t blame her with all their damn pheromones. “I wanted to hear more about these exploits. Have they renamed love letters after you yet, Himmy? Oooh, I got it. They could call them ‘Himerograms.’!”
Pothos rises, his mouth still agape.
“And you…” she directs her gaze to Pothos. “Do they hold festivals of longing in your honor and play heartaches as their national anthems?”
