Cupid (10 page)

She cleared her throat. “I’m wondering if the guest will be. . .alive or. . .what I’m trying to say is. . .Will the guest be more like your mother?”

“A woman?”

Grace opened her mouth, but said nothing.

“I’m not sure what kind of question that is,” Asher said. “But, I’m going to be patient with you and answer. Yes, the guest will be a woman, a lovely one at that, which means that if anything is out of place, I’ll probably roar. Let’s make sure everything is perfect.”

“Okay.” Grace still seemed unsettled. “And are we going to say anything about your mother?”

What is wrong with her? What kind of questions are these?

Asher crossed his arms over his chest. “Is everything okay, Grace? Are you having problems within your life? Is someone bothering you?”

“Oh what?” She touched her chest. “I’m fine.”

“How’s your ex-husband? Has he been doing everything he’s supposed to? Paying child support and seeing the kids?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Let me know if he stops or causes you and the kids problems.”

“Um. . .okay.”

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Uh. . .will your mother be meeting your
real
guest?” she asked. “Would I be making places for both of them?”

“No,” he said with annoyance. “Mother is going to Paris.”

The women in this place have lost their minds. It’ll be good to have a fresh feminine presence in this household.

Asher walked past her and finished going up the steps. “Have a good evening, Grace.”

A
sher spent
the rest of the evening reading his book.

Asher paused from his book and considered that moment with Diana. The first time he spotted her, she’d walked into a dark kitchen, not knowing the horror that lay inside. Asher had gazed upon Diana when he was really himself—bow and arrow in hand and blood all around him. No other women had ever caught his eye in that way. Most of the time if a female was around right before or after he killed, he’d either let her go, if she wasn’t guilty, or take her life with the male monster next to her.

He didn’t have to do that with Diana. She’d stepped into the darkness, sensed the electricity of him across her skin and backed away.

Too bad she hadn’t backed away from him farther enough, because he’d started the first step to intimacy with her, right in that moment.

He returned to his book.

Asher laughed as he thought back to his first date with Diana. She’d done more than feel him out with her words, she’d tongue twisted him, made him thirsty to taste her. That dress had snared his attention, her mind had caught his heart. And even the darkest side of him was intrigued with her fascination with Cupid.

I can’t believe she named me that.

He grinned and returned to the book, scanning the pages for the steps that dealt with physical intimacy.

When does the touching begin and how do I get us there, immediately?

Blowing out a long breath, Asher shut the book close and decided to make his own steps. With Diana inside of his mansion, there would be no way he could keep his hands to himself enough to slowly follow each step.

He wanted her now, could taste the sweetness of her flesh right on his tongue. He licked his lips at the thought.

I should go back over to her house and check on her.

His cock grew in his pants. His body and mind both knew that sneaking back over to watch Diane in her bedroom had nothing to do with keeping her safe. The only danger in her life would be her husband’s killer, Cupid.

And he was Cupid.

I think I’m starting to like that name.

Asher unbuttoned his suit pants, stuffed his hand inside, and freed his cock. In his mind, he pictured the view from her balcony last night.

She’d been naked when she went to bed. Drops of water glittered along that flesh. He’d dug his nails into his hands just to keep him on that balcony and not diving into her room.

Her body lay perfect. Tight, dark nipples rose up and down on her breasts as she touched herself with such sensuality. She dripped with arousal and filled the whole room with that lush scent.

A hunger had rose in Asher.

His hands itched to dip his fingers between that wet flesh between her thighs. All that cream would cover those wicked digits. All of her. And he’d lick and lick it all the way, right before diving between those legs, lapping at her clit, and feasting on every inch of that warm pussy before his eyes.

That night, in the shadows of her balcony, he wanted to do more than fuck Diana.

He wanted to make her his—legs spread open, her screaming out Cupid, and him moving inside of her with enough energy to satisfy both of their hungers.

“I don’t know what my plans are for you.” He slipped his hands along his cock, stopped at the tip, and squeezed the throbbing point as he thought more of Diana touching herself. “I just know that no one touches you, until I’m done.”

And there he sat in his bedroom.

Light bathed his half-naked body as he stroked himself and whispered Diana’s name over and over. By then he’d gotten the tiny bottle of rose-scented lotion in his night stand and lathered his length with the perfumed cream. Sweat beaded along his forehead. He ripped his shirt apart to get more movement and be relaxed. His pants now hung at his ankles.

“Oh, Diana.” His thighs flexed as he pounded his cock into his closed fists.

In his mind, she bounced on top of his cock as he lay on the beach. An ocean breeze whipped through her long, black hair. Those supple breasts bobbed as he thrust back into her. All around them the night air smelled of salted sea and sex.

“Oh, Cupid,” she groaned.

And he didn’t mind that she didn’t moan Asher because, in the end, who was Asher?

Haven’t I been a sort of fucked-up Cupid all along?

He stroked himself some more, groaning so loud he was sure some of the staff had heard him. He pounded into his hand, probably abused a finger or two, but he didn’t care.

“Diana!” he roared and pictured her beautiful lips as she groaned Cupid again.

In several hot, tight seconds, his seed spilled all over his fingers and dripped onto the floor.

Still he couldn’t stop stroking, not even when the lust trickled out of his cock, and the rim went numb.

When had been the last time he’d even satisfied himself this way? Sex tended to come out of need versus want. When he had the urge, he simply went to a club, picked someone up, took them to a hotel, and fucked their brains out.

Masturbation was never necessary, although he’d been wanting to touch himself more and more since he bought the rose-scented lotion.

“Diana, you’re in my head.” Asher stared down at his now limp cock, wet with lotion and cum. “But I’ll have you in reality soon enough.”

D
iana sat
in the back of Asher’s limo, while his driver brought her to the Bishop Estates.

And what a sight to behold. Green, lush grass spread out for miles. When they passed the first entrance, three guards had stood in the booth and waved.

Rose bushes outlined the path as they continued onto Asher’s property. A small pond sat on the right. On the left, huge trees had been manicured into perfect oval shapes and dotted with Florida’s famed oranges.

Diana pressed the button on the side of her door. The window slid down, and she breathed in sweet, fruity air.

Besides the tires skidding along the road and the few birds chirping in the tree, the property held a natural quiet. It was a vibration of silent rhythm that held no real sound, but told the average person walking by that things were alive around them.

A peaceful bliss rose within her.

She should’ve been nervous, or at least taken aback by the past days horrific events as well as the uncertainty of each future day in front of her.

But she wasn’t.

Instead, excitement skidded all over her skin, jumping around from pore to pore like tiny little fairies giggling and playing in spring.

Then they reached the second entrance. The limo paused as two security guards walked out of their booth, did a quick peek of the limo’s back window, waved at her, and then gestured for the driver to enter.

A huge iron gate beeped three times and then slowly slid open.

He has some serious security happening. When did you get all of these men, Asher? Before or after you learned about the possible serial killer on the island. Are you that scared? Maybe you should be.

Suddenly, capturing Cupid rose to an even higher importance. Diana yearned for justice, just because it was the right thing to do when some crazy person took lives. She would’ve exhausted herself with this investigation, regardless, just for the simple fact that she lived on the island. Neil being a victim, propelled her need to find this guy. Maybe, putting Cupid away would get her some closer.

But now that she added Asher to the mix, things had gotten even deeper.

I don’t want him to die by Cupid’s hands. Asher deserves better. He’s a good man.

Despite her desire to capture Cupid, there was a small nagging at the back of her brain that cautioned her. Cupid was doing Ovid Island a service, like a superhero. Who would rid the island of it’s scum if he was caught?

The limo rounded the corner, and a massive mansion appeared right in front of her eyes and all her thoughts floated away as she stared at the architecture. It was made out of huge blocks of gray stone that had little flower and leaf carvings around the edges. Diana guessed the place possessed at least three levels and could probably provide housing for twenty large families.

Wow. And I thought Neil liked to spend money. This place is insanely big. Why have I never heard about this property? Why don’t I remember meeting Asher before Neil died? Was he involved in the island society? He doesn’t seem like someone that can stomach the people here.

Diana was no stranger to dirty, unrighteous wealth.

She'd grown up watching men and women steal, cheat, and even kill to gain their financial superiority. She couldn't deny that she had done some of the same things herself to get to the top. She justified it with her rags-to-riches past. The spirit of the tough streets always beat in her heart. She could never forget where she came from. Or the price she had to pay to get where she'd ended up. That mentality served her well, when she lived in rough places like Miami and New York City.

Ovid Island reeked of a different sort of toughness. If not for Neil, she probably would’ve never moved to the place, never been exposed to the disgusting gorging and spending of the elite.

Diana’s first few months there, had been hell.

She’d been unprepared to live around the truly filthy rich. Instead of guarding her purse from the happen-to-run-by-pick-pocketers like she’d dealt with in Central Park, she had to protect her back from being stabbed by wealthy housewives with nothing to do. Instead of gripping her mace and looking out for attackers that crept in the shadows of South Beach, she had to guard her tongue and keep her cool, as evil CEOs tried to gag her articles and limit her reporting.

She’d had to claw her way through Ovid Island’s upper crust society with only her intuition. Having several literary awards and a sparkling writing career didn’t hurt either.

Maintaining her figure and classic look also worked. Instead of being looked down upon because of her dark, smoothened skin, she was reveled. Wherever Diana’s face appeared, men took notice.

I should look more into Asher when I have time. I wonder who he spends his time with around the island? What clique does he run with? Who’s back has he stabbed to get to where he is today?

From Asher’s limo window, she stared out at the monstrosity of the mansion, and realized that maybe they weren't too different from each other, after all. That perhaps, their rise to glory was more alike than she wanted to admit.

The driver stopped, got out of the car, came to her door, and opened it. “Mrs. Carson, are all of these your bags, or will I be returning to pick up more?”

Diana gestured to her laptop bag, full of her computer, phone, and tape recorder for any quick voice notes. "I have everything I care about at least. Of course, there’s some luggage in the back.”

The driver punched buttons on his cell and talked into it. "Sir? Yes, she is here. Okay. Only a few bags, Sir. Okay. Yes. I will send Jenkins down to fetch the rest of her luggage from her home."

Excuse me? Who is he talking to? What do you mean the rest of my luggage from my house? I don’t need that much stuff.

“Yes, Sir.” The driver shut off his phone, and turned toward Diana. "We'll take care of your bags, Ma’am. Mr. Bishop is coming out to greet you."

“What did you mean about getting the rest of my luggage from my house?”

“I was told to get all of your belongings.”

“But I have everything I need, right here.”

“I understand.”

“So you won’t be returning to my house to get the rest of my things?”

“I regret that I must still go as per Mr. Bishop’s orders.”

Diana stifled a laugh.

He was so proper.

So rigid.

So… butler-ish.

I wonder what type of boss Asher is. Does he provide his employees with more than just financial security?

“Okay, now I understand,” she said. “I’ll just handle this with Asher.”

“Mr. Bishop will be out shortly.” The driver went back to the limo.

Go back to get all of my belongings? That’s silly. I only need a few clothes for a few days. There’s no need to move in everything with me. He’s absolutely ridiculous.

In front of her, the gigantic, wooden doors swung open.

Asher stood in the doorway, dressed as impeccably well as every time she’d seen him before. Black slacks hugged his long, lean legs. A white button down, formed nice against his muscular torso. He looked like the spitting image of goddamn Bruce Wayne.

If only we had a Batman to conquer Cupid
.

She laughed then, as visions spun through her head of Batman with his expensive toys battling Cupid and his deadly bow and arrow.

"What’s so funny, Diana?" Asher asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Trust me. It’s foolish.” She waved his curious look away. “I figured you’d have work or some previous engagement since my move was such short notice. Were you waiting for me?"

His smile deepened. "Of course, I wouldn't let you spend your first night here alone. What a terrible host that would make me." Asher studied her belongings as his driver brought them to the door. “This only looks like enough for a few days.”

“I only plan to be here for two days at the most.”

“Diana—”

“I’ve thought about this and although your concern for my safety and your investment is nice, there’s no real threat.”

“He could be watching you, this Cupid guy.”

“If he is going to come for me, it will be in the next few days. Until then, I don’t believe I have anything to really be serious about. There’s been no threats from him or even a substantiated break-in. You’re basing all your fears on what I
thought
I heard, and it was probably just the wind.” She looked around. “Besides, I think Cupid will be focused on his next kill, not some women that he probably doesn’t even know or care to concern himself with.”

Asher tilted his head to the side and grinned. “And you know this how?”

“His victims have always been men. I explained this already.”

Asher wagged his finger. “And what about Neil’s mistress?”

A pang hit her heart. The reminder of her husband's death along with his adultery still hit home at times. The wound from both were still too strong, it sat within her, festering at times, when she was alone in the emptiness of their place.

“I already explained why Cupid murdered Neil’s mistress. He thought she was just as guilty as Neil.”

“And you’re willing to leave the safety of my property in two days, on this guess?”

“No.”

“No?” He quirked his eyebrows.

“I’m going to stay with you for two days to give
you
time to gather a proper security team with all of that money that you put into my bank account.”

“Why thank you, Mrs. Carson. I always like to know my orders ahead of schedule. And who is the security team for?”

“Me. You’ll be providing this team for me.”

“And is this my only option of keeping you safe?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure I agree.”

“Doesn’t matter. And I’ve discussed this with my boss, just in case you want to use him as a threat. My boss and I both believe that this funded investigation is important to the island and beneficial to the paper. However, we also agree that a security team is more rational than an Ovid Island news reporter living under the roof of one of the wealthiest men on the island.”

His face shifted into a neutral mask. “Well, this is a twist.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. It seems my guest will only be here for two days.”

She beamed. “That’s correct.”

“Stop it.” He frowned.

“What?”

“You’re over there grinning like a child that’s stumbled upon their parent’s secret place for hiding Christmas presents.”

She shrugged. “My mother and father never could find a good place to hide the toys. I always found them a good week before Christmas. Luckily, they wrapped all of them before hiding them.”

“You never opened any of the presents?”

“No way.”

“Not even a little peek, like pulling the corner of the wrapping paper back just a tiny bit? Seeing as how curious you are, I don't believe you. Not one bit.”

“No. The goal was never to ruin the surprises. I only wanted to outsmart my parents.”

“And I bet you did,” Asher said. “As much as possible.”

“Since I only have two days with you, let’s start now.” He captured her hand. The heat radiated from his palm and warmed her down to her bones. He chuckled to himself, as if he understood the effect he had on her. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider, staying longer?”

“I can’t. Remember. I have funeral plans as well as so many other things to get done.”

“You have the money to hand all of those things down to a staff.”

“If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself,” Diana said in a sing-song voice.

Asher's left eyebrow rose. "Touche. A woman after my own heart. However, you really should consider pawning off your tasks. Then you’ll have time to stay with me, the loneliest man on the island.”

Diana eyed him. A wealthy, god-like man with good taste, good manners and the fortitude to go above and beyond for his investments.

How is he lonely? No way. But wait a minute, why is he still single? How has no one trapped this good-looking man?

He cleared his throat. “Diana?”

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Stay with me for a week, at least.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“How about we finish this conversation later, and you show me around?”

“Fine.” Asher pulled her inside and it was as if Diana stepped into a fairytale.

Diana darted her gaze around the house and couldn't settle on what to be transfixed with first. The high ceilings? The bay windows that overlooked Ovid Island? The cream and gold walls that sparkled at every angle? There weren’t a lot of things that surprised Diana anymore, but this house?

She was completely in awe.

Asher winked at her. "I take it you find your accommodations sufficient?"

Diana couldn't answer him. She was too busy staring at an archway covered by intricate iron bars with a huge door blocking the way.

"Where does that go to?" she asked.

"Ah. A woman with a perceptive eye and good taste. That would be the way to the wine cave."

"Wine cave? You're pretty serious about your wines."

His lips curved into a salacious smile. "As every well-educated man and woman should be." He pulled her forward, through the grand entrance of the kitchen. "I have the best chef on the island here. Her name is Grace. She'll make you anything your heart desires. All you have to do is ask."

He paused for a minute and sighed. “Although she’s been acting a little odd in this last year, so if all your requests aren’t met, just let me know, and I’ll talk to her.”

Diana stared at the commercial size kitchen. For as much silver and granite she could see, there were twice as many people shuffling around, doing God knows what.

"All of this is for you?"

"Not
just
for me.”

“Wouldn’t there be a lot of food wasted each day?”

“Not here.” Irritation glittered in his eyes.

Diana considered stopping the topic right there, but decided to push it a little further. For whatever reason, mentioning the waste annoyed him. She liked that. Most didn’t care. Almost all, ignored the fact that they were filling their garbage cans with pounds of untouched gourmet food every day, while people all over the world starved.