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Olivia’s chest heaved. She couldn’t get her breathing under control, and it wasn’t because she’d run the forty feet from the elevator to the room while trying not to step on the sheet she wore as a chiton.
Hyperion was a Titan. The real, actual kind that was the root for the adjective.
He had been a statue. He could move the earth. He made diamonds with his bare palms.
He made her come, repeatedly.
He was scary. Unstoppable.
She wanted him.
“Fuck,” she said, not for the first time.
Christina sat on her heels, watching her. “Honey, please tell me what happened. Did Hyperion attack you? Should I call the police?”
Olivia shook her head. “No. No police.”
“But he did attack you?” Christina’s usually playful gaze turned murderous. “I can’t believe I liked him. Where is he? I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.” She dug into her purse and fished out a very illegal can of pepper spray. “Mr. Titanas is going down. I’ll call Manolis, to keep you company, and then Hyperion’s ass is mine.”
This new, fierce side of Christina was thrilling, but also more than a little funny, considering her petite, curvy frame and large, innocent, blue eyes. Olivia was amazed to hear herself laugh. “Sit down, Rambo. You don’t have to kick anyone’s ass tonight. Anything I did with Hyperion was consensual. It was the talking, afterward, that screwed things up.”
As she said the words, she knew them to be true. She hadn’t been coerced into giving Hyperion her body. She’d wanted him since she’d met him. But had that all been her?
It must have. If he could control her, he’d have made her his that first morning. Hell, she’d still be in the suite with him now, unable to run away.
But just because he couldn’t didn’t mean he hadn’t tried. And he’d had no compunction telling her so. Ugh. Was that good or bad? It made him honest, but not ethical.
Christina snapped her fingers in front of Olivia’s face. “You still with me? Did he drug you?”
His lovemaking could be considered a drug. It was certainly addictive. “I’m fine. Honest,” Olivia said. “He told me some things about his past, and I freaked out.”
“Ooh, so he was in jail?” Christina hopped to her feet and planted her hands on her hips.
Olivia chewed on her bottom lip. “Sorta.”
“You can’t talk about it?” Christina clapped her hands. “Is he CIA? FBI?”
“Yeah, because he’s so obviously American.”
“Right. What’s the name of the Greek secret service?”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “He isn’t in any secret service, and I can’t tell you more about it.” Was that so Christina wouldn’t think Olivia was crazy, or to protect Hyperion? And should she be hiding the true nature of a man who could destroy a city at a whim? Shouldn’t she be turning him in to the authorities? But what authorities could contain him?
Heavy steps sounded outside the door, and after a moment, knuckles rapped against the wood. “Olivia? I know you’re in there. Please open the door.”
“Should I tell him to leave?” Christina asked in a hushed tone.
Olivia doubted that would stop him. “He’ll probably huff and puff and tear the door down.”
Christina arched an eyebrow. “If he’s the big bad wolf, we could do with reinforcements. Are you sure I shouldn’t call the cops?”
“Olivia, let me in. I need to talk to you,” Hyperion called out. He sounded patient, but Olivia sensed his urgency.
“Come in,” she said. He would anyway, if he decided to. No door could keep out this man. This Titan.
The door swung open hard enough to hit the wall, and Hyperion stepped inside the room, naked like a newborn and hung like a horse.
So not looking at that thing.
“You didn’t have to run. I told you I would never hurt you,” he said.
“Don’t get any closer, mister.” Christina stepped to Olivia’s side and rested a hand on her shoulder.
“Is everyone hard of hearing today?” Hyperion asked the ceiling. “I do not wish to hurt Olivia. I love her.”
Olivia felt her jaw go slack. “You what?”
“I love you. I was created to love you. You and I are supposed to be together, for my existence to make sense. If I’m not with you, I might as well be a slab of rock again.”
His existence might make sense, but his words sure didn’t.
Christina squeaked, “Again?”
Olivia narrowed her eyes at Hyperion. “You’ve only known me for a day.”
He scowled. “You can’t tell me you’re not feeling this... this connection between us. I’m ancient, Olivia. Eternal. And yet I’ve never felt for a female, mortal or divine, the way I feel about you.”
Christina’s eyes were open impossibly wide. She looked as shocked as Olivia felt.
Olivia swallowed around the lump in her throat. "I... I can’t..." Return his feelings? Say the words? Sleep with him again, when she knew he could be as big as a house and possibly crush her in one fist? “I just can’t.”
“Look into my eyes and tell me you don’t want me.” His voice brooked no argument.
She met his gaze, trying for defiant. His warm, amber-gold eyes melted her resistance, though. “I do, God help me.”
“Then stop fighting it.” Hyperion glowed with an ethereal light so bright, she had to shield her eyes.
When the light dimmed, she saw him look at Christina, his brow furrowed. “You will forget what you witnessed tonight,” he said.
Christina snorted. “Yeah... That’s not happening, dude. What are you?”
Olivia ran her tongue along her dry lips. “He’s a Titan. Original version.” Christina had heard enough; there was no hiding from her at this point.
“Huh.” Christina crossed her arms over her chest. “And where can I get me one of those?”
Hyperion roared with laughter. “At the bottom of the sea, most likely, but I’ll save you one if I find them.”
This was too surreal. Olivia needed time and space, to process. She stood and held out an arm toward the door. “Hyperion—”
She didn’t get to ask him to leave. He wrapped an arm around her legs, threw her over his shoulder, and turned to Christina. “I promise she’ll be safe with me.”
“You’d better keep that promise, if you don’t want me going to the media with this.”
He nodded and carried Olivia out of there.
Why wasn’t she fighting him? Why wasn’t she demanding to be let go?
Because deep down, she wanted nothing more than to have him inside her once more— filling her, stretching her to this side of pain, and driving her to ecstasy. And maybe his declaration of love spoke to something primal inside her. It wasn’t hormones, drawing her to him. Oxytocin wasn’t affecting her thoughts.
She was in love with him too.