Mr. Muse (5 page)

“Excuse me, just a romance writer? Romance
is
one of the fastest growing genres in writing and the most lucrative. In fact—ch—”

“Ah, sorry to interrupt you, Hemingway, but I have to have a chat with Eric here. Why don’t you find yourself a book and settle in for a read, honey?”

Missy saw Eric backing away with a smile on his face. That’s it. She’d had enough from this she-man. Time for Missy Duncan slam-time.

Missy scooted forward with her fingers outstretched. She couldn’t reach her face, but could do damage to those nonexistent breasts of hers. Kyla stepped up and sharp blades slid out from her hands.
Shit, does she have knives?
Girl-on-girl knife fight, how could she work that into her book?

“Hey, whoa there, girls. Put your claws away. Please, no more bloodshed today, hey?”

Eric moved between them and pushed them to opposite corners. Missy shook herself to get rid of the built-up anger that surged through her veins. What was she doing? Fighting over an oversexed man who couldn’t keep his deluded hands off women? Missy stared at Kyla. Had she wanted to scratch her boobs off?

Eric and Kyla shared an intimate smile over his comment and the need to hurt came back with a sizzling flare. Missy stared at Kyla’s hands as she contemplated knocking the knife away and going for her again.

“What the…?” There was no knife. They were long, razor-sharp claws which slid smoothly back under Kyla’s fingernails while she watched.
But no knife
.

“What the hell are you?”

Kyla turned to smile at her when the comment registered on both her and Eric.

“Sweet pea, your small human mind would never understand me. Now, Eric, I’ll put the guards on standby in case you need them. Do you want us to check over her house and sniff things out?”

“No, that’s fine, Kyla. I’ll head on over there myself later. Thanks for the extra clothes, too.”

“My pleasure, Eric. I’ll be seeing you. Touch base regularly with me. Besides, I miss you.”

With that, Missy watched
the bitch,
as she would now call her
,
stride out of the room.

“How many bimbos do you have hanging around, you oversexed lothario?”

Chapter Four

“Oversexed lothario? No wonder your books tank at the store. You need new words.” Eric shook his head. Oversexed? The first person in forty years he’d even considered getting intimate with and she called him names. The decades-long sex drought made her comment laughable.

“Excuse me, the books did not tank. It wasn’t the right market or release time for them. That’s all.”

“Whatever. Kyla’s my family and I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“And the Cassandra your friend mentioned?”

“My cousin’s new wife. I met her at the wedding and we’re close. Are you jealous?” He couldn’t believe it. All those questions about Kyla and Cassandra, nearly having a fight with his Amazonian cousin. Green-eyed over him? It’d been too long since someone had cared enough for that.

“That’s your wishful thinking. Overgrown she-male pissed me off. That’s all.”

She avoided his gaze and stared at the wall behind him. Damn, he didn’t know what to feel, but Eric sure wanted to see where this led. “Kyla bought stuff. Why don’t you get dressed? I need to speak to my boss and fill him in on what’s happening.” Eric smiled and stalked toward her. “Unless you want me to help you take your clothes off?”

Disappointment flared for a moment when she fled with a squeak to the bedroom. Maybe that was for the best. He made for the spare room and its closet. You never knew when you’d end up naked and in need of emergency clothes.

* * * *

“Muse Coordinator? What’s that?” Confused, Missy stared at the door. After the debacle in the suite with Eric and his bimbo, she was loath to make herself look the fool again, but this was weird.

“That’s my new boss. He wants an update, so after you, Ms. Duncan.”

Eric gestured her inside and stepped in behind. The warmth of his body pressed momentarily against her when he closed the door. Tingles zapped up her spine. Hands shaking, she cleared her throat and moved out of his range.

“Hey, Apollo, how’s it going?” Eric moved forward, plunked on the corner of the desk and gestured with his hand for Missy to sit.

Missy stayed put and eyed his boss. A paunchy, fiftyish gentleman met her stare. A sense of familiarity nagged at her. She’d seen him somewhere before.

The older guy turned to her and smiled a high wattage grin of hello.
Whoa, blinding white teeth
. You couldn’t even tell he was an old man anymore. What’s more, Missy remembered where she’d seen him. He bore a startling resemblance to her bronze doorstop of the Sun God Apollo. It couldn’t be the same person…

“Tone it down, boss. You’ll blind me if you’re not careful. I have to update you on the situation. We may have a problem.”

“Kyla’s updated me on what’s going on. Keep an eye on your client, but make sure you finish the job. I don’t want any complaints from unsatisfied customers.”

“It’s in hand. There’s nothing you or my sister have to worry about.”

“Speaking of Erato, how is she?”

“Fine, fat and ready to drop any day now. She can’t wait to get back to work.”

“A Muse on maternity leave, married to a mortal screenwriter. What has the modern world come to? Centuries ago, I’d have ordered their deaths, but I suppose times change.”

Missy’s eyes grew large. Were these people crazy, talking about death, mortals and Muses? Okay, Kyla’s nails were freaky, retracting and all, and Eric had been invisible, but he hadn’t done that since the explosion and now this guy? Missy’s stomach cramped and let out a huge roar and she contemplated doing a runner.

“Why don’t you feed your client, Eric? She seems hungry. She might believe you when you tell her what’s happening.”

Apollo glanced at Missy and smirked. She didn’t like this man. He was way too confident that he knew what was best for her.

“Lunch is on the hotel and Muse Central. Sit back and enjoy the job and Eric. And if we can ever service you again, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

He made a shooing motion with his hands and hustled her out before she could voice her shock.

“What the hell did he mean by service me?”

“The Muse gig. I told you. No secret agent here. Where did you want to go for lunch?”

Missy’s stomach clenched again. Fine, she’d get a meal and take off afterward. Besides, if they were paying… “Chilidog with chili-cheese fries on the side.”

“Fine. The Fatburger it is.”

* * * *

Missy took a massive bite and placed her chilidog back on the plate, wondering why such a delicious hunk was so crazy. She understood the invisible potion thing, but this Muse story? Too way out, even for her. She sighed, grabbed hold of the ketchup bottle and smoothed her hand up and down the sides, deep in thought.

Okay, he might have sanity issues, but Eric could still help with her scenes. She might have to get a restraining order later, but for the moment, he was hers. Missy moved again and concentrated on the cold, smooth touch of the glass while she nutted out her problem. She fingered the end of the sauce container. Then put her finger in her mouth, sucking the drop of sauce off it.

A strangled groan from Eric caught her attention and she looked up. His face screwed into a grimace and he slid deeper into the corner of the booth.

“Ah, you okay there, Eric? Is the food too hot? Did you burn your mouth?”

“I know whose mouth I’d like to burn.”

He reached over and removed the sauce bottle from her hand. “I’m an erotic Muse, at least for the moment. Do things like that with the bottle and you’ll find something else in your hands to lick if you’re not careful.”

Missy stared back at him and considered her actions of a few minutes earlier. “Oh, you imagined…
O-kay, sorry.”
Mind you, now he’d mentioned it, she’d never gotten a good look when he’d been naked and his words were erotically inspiring. Her muscles tightened in a jerky spasm and she crossed her legs as her core pulsed.

It didn’t help much. Her nipples tightened and she coughed, pretending to cover her mouth. The bastard had known what he was doing when he’d said that.

“
Mind you, I
am
here for your pleasure. We should have a brainstorming meeting right now, here.”

She watched as he leaned back in the booth and smiled wolfishly. “Still denying the mad scientist or secret agent thing, I see. So if I agree to listen to your Muse story, what would a session entail?”

“Thinking up hot ideas for your somewhat flat storyline?”

“Flat? You have no idea what writing a romance novel entails. What did you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you have a ketchup scene in the book then follow it by sex in a diner?”

Eric fluttered his eyes like a femme fatale and smirked at her. He thought she wasn’t up for this? Well, she wasn’t backing down. She slid her shoe off and rubbed her bare foot against his ankle, his resulting jerk of shock more than satisfactory for her feminine ego. “Whatever you think, Eric. After all, you
are
the so-called expert.”

She grazed her foot up his calf and moved it back and forth behind his knee. Thank God they were in the back booth in the darkest corner of the restaurant, but they still had to look normal. “Why don’t you fill me in on what’s going on with my exploded house?”

Missy slid a fry into her mouth and sucked the seasoning off, making sure Eric focused on her mouth the whole time.

“A group called Gods First may have planted a bomb.”

She shook her head. Still going with the God thing.
Okay, maybe he’d admit the truth under pressure.

Missy moved her foot up the front of his thigh then rubbed it over the bulge in his pants. Man, he was built, a big boy in every way. She imagined him stretching, thrusting. Her throat dried. Coughing to cover herself, she jumped when he groaned again and grabbed her foot to tickle and massage the sole of it. “C-Carry on, Eric. What were you saying?”

“Originally the Greek Gods made their home in Greece. But they got bored and one had been here on a visit and told the others. Everyone up and moved here, they bought a casino and here we are now. I’m a high-school English teacher, but my sister, an erotic Muse, is on maternity leave and I’m filling in. We aren’t full Gods, just Demi-Gods, Halflings with some of their powers and longer-lived lives than a mortal.”

His hand left her foot and she let it fall to the ground. Eric’s own bare foot replaced his hand and he slid it up under her skirt. She shuddered and tried to control her breathing at the touch of his warm toes caressing her inner thighs. “Do you believe this stuff, Eric?”

“Trust me. It’s the truth and I’ll show you proof.”

Conscious reasoning shattered when he placed his foot tight and hard against her. His toes caressed the side of her panties, slipping under the elastic an inch at a time until they sank into a pool of wet.
God, that felt…
Missy whimpered and her skin tingled in response to his actions.

“Take a look around, Missy. What do you see?”

She opened her eyes, not realizing she’d closed them, and tried to focus on the people in the diner. They all appeared to be couples, hands held, gazing into each other’s eyes. Even disappearing under tables. Concentrating past the thrusting motions of Eric’s toes, Missy acknowledged the intense sensual atmosphere simmering in the air around her. The scent of sexual arousal teased her senses. It flowed over and around her, saturating the air.

“That’s what I can do, and with a flick of my fingers, I can turn it off.”

He snapped and the diners shook themselves, blinking as if awakening from sleep. The tension eased and the pent-up longings disappeared. Eric removed his foot from her lap, shocking Missy out of her sexual stupor. At least he was sweating and his chest heaved like he’d run a race. He wasn’t unaffected by what they’d done. She peered around again and the truth dawned on her.

Missy sat up in shock. “Holy crap. You dowsed them in some funky chemical aphrodisiac. How do you come up with these ideas?”

“Damn it, woman,” Eric roared. “Muse, with a capital M. How many times do I have to say it?” He leaned toward her. “And I’m at your service.”

Missy swallowed the lump in her throat.
At my service, hey?
Well, there were a few things she might have him play out. Images of scarves and surging flesh played through her mind. Heat raced through her blood, accompanied by a wash of sexual hunger that begged to be fed.

“Hermes can get you a laptop.”

Her brain was still fogged over at the images playing in her head, but Eric’s voice and the mention of a computer shocked her out of it.

“My laptop is still at the house. God, my ideas are on it, my other manuscripts. I have to get it.” She rose and tried to scramble out of the booth.

“Settle. I’ll find it. I want to nose around for clues anyway.”

Eric grabbed her hand, threw money on the table and they proceeded out of the diner. Missy smiled. The mad inventor, who’d turned out to be a crazed Demi-God instead, was not only sexy, but nice, too. She wondered if he’d be offended if she told him that. Oh, and what an inspiration he was for a hero in one of her stories.

“Watch out.”

Eric’s cry dragged her wandering thoughts from her writing. Before she could respond to his shout, he shoved her to the left and up against the diner wall, the weight of his body offering protection. “What the hell…”

A car hurtled toward them, narrowly missing them both. She shuddered, a paralyzing chill spreading up her spine. Her heart rate sped up, her breathing accelerating. Goosebumps broke out over her arms and the muscles in her stomach clenched in reaction.

Oh, crap.

Someone had tried to run them over.

“Come on,” Eric yelled. “We need to get you back to Olympus where it’s safe and I need to go retrieve your bloody computer.”

He levered himself off her and she felt empty, lost. His warm, heavy body had been a barricade of safety and now it was gone. Missy wiped her sweaty palms on her butt as she marched toward the casino, worry keeping her silent.