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Authors: P. C. Cast

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BOOK: Goddess of Love
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“Thank you.” Pea blushed a little.

“Which makes your personal appearance all the more confusing.” Pea's spine straightened and she stopped filling her mug midpour. Venus hurried on. “I don't mean to insult you—just the opposite actually. What I mean is that it seems to me that you shouldn't have had to invoke my aid at all. You seem to understand style and aesthetics very well.”

“Only when it has to do with my home or even my work. When it's me, well, that's like a whole other world, or at least it's seemed like that since high school.”

“Very interesting,” Venus mused. Then she smiled brightly. “But now I'm here and Love herself will aid you in attaining your dreams!”

Pea joined Venus at the table, handing her the buttercup-colored mug and a vintage blue linen napkin that was hand embroidered. As an automatic afterthought Pea reached for a tin on the nearby granite-topped counter that was decorated with pictures of Scottie dogs. She opened it and offered Venus one of the imported sourdough cookies she always kept inside. Venus took one and chewed daintily, then sipped her hot chocolate. “Pea, this is delicious.”

“Thank you,” Pea said.

They ate and drank in silence. Venus looked around her with obvious curiosity at the lovely little home, and Pea tried not to stare too openly at her beautiful, but mysterious and mentally unsound, guest.

“The yellow of the walls is the same color as that of the cups from which we're drinking. That's an especially pleasing touch,” Venus said.

“Okay. Who are you? Really.”

Venus blinked in surprise. “But I already told you.”

“It's impossible that you're Venus.”

“If you really believe that then why did you so earnestly invoke my aid?”

Pea fidgeted with a cookie. She looked up into the woman's unusual violet eyes and saw only kindness there. “I was tired of being invisible.”

Venus didn't have to be bound to Pea by an oath to recognize the pain and honesty in her words. She took her hand. “Tell me.”

“I'm worse than plain and ordinary. Where men are concerned”—she paused, thinking about the nerdy guys who did ask her out and grimaced—“or at least men I might find attractive, it's like I don't exist.”

Venus squeezed her hand. “Go on.”

“As you've already noticed, I have no style. My hair and clothes are never right.” Pea moved her shoulders restlessly. “It started when I was about fourteen. I made this great dance squad at school—one that was tough to get on. I never really thought about how I looked or dressed or whatever before then.” She smiled sheepishly. “I guess I was dorky, but too busy getting good grades and taking zillions of dance classes to know it. Anyway I thought I fit in with the rest of the girls.” Pea hesitated and pain flashed through her eyes. “I was wrong. I was a good dancer. I made good grades. I tried to be nice to everyone, but I wasn't good enough.”

“Oh, darling, of course you're good enough!” Venus felt very close to tears again.

Pea smiled bravely. “Well, I am smart. So I taught myself how to keep a nice home, how to cook like a gourmet, how to excel at my job. And today I decided that maybe, with, uh, your help and a how-to book, I could learn to be a better woman.”

“Oh, child. I can already tell that you are a wonderful woman. You don't need to learn to be a better one. All you need to learn to do is to show the world the truth of what you already are and to leave the past in the past.”

“I wish that were possible.”

“Of course it is possible!”

Pea smiled. “With the aid of Venus, Goddess of Love.”

“So you do believe I'm Venus.”

Pea blushed again. “Well, no. But I think you're beautiful enough to be the Goddess of Love.”

“Actually, I'm Goddess of Sensual Love, Beauty and the Erotic Arts,” Venus corrected her, and then sighed. “What shall I do to convince you? Do you have something you would like me to gild in gold? Have you a tree you would like coaxed into bearing fruit?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Winter is still upon us, not that that matters, although I'm sure Persephone would say making a tree fruitful in winter is imprudent behavior.”

In spite of the crazy circumstances, Pea had to smile. “Why not make Chloe a cat? She's been around Max since she was a puppy, and she's grown up believing she's a Scottie cat, rather than a Scottie dog.”

Venus glanced down at Chloe, who sat by Pea's feet. “So you think you're a cat?” Chloe thumped her tail happily against the floor, and the Goddess grinned at the precocious black dog. “Well, then I suppose you should be a cat.” With a small, simple gesture Venus flicked her fingers at Chloe. The air surrounding the dog suddenly began to shimmer with diamond-colored glitter, and with a popping sound, the Scottie disappeared and in her place sat a big black cat with over-large ears and odd-looking tufts of fur around her face that made her look like she had a beard.

Every bit of color drained from Pea's face. “Chloe?” She choked out the word.

The cat's tail beat happily against the kitchen floor.

With a trembling hand, Pea reached down and touched what used to be her dog. Chloe purred riotously and her tail thumped harder. Pea's wide-eyed gaze shot to Venus.

“You
are
Venus, Goddess of Love.” She put her hand to her head. “I think I may be sick.”

Concerned by her sudden pallor, Venus fanned her with a linen napkin. “Should I get you something? I could conjure a lovely goblet of ambrosia. It's really very refreshing.”

“No! I just need to breathe.” Pea gulped air. Max sauntered into the room, took one look at Chloe, hissed and backed out of the room so fast that his claws slid and paws skittered like he was on ice instead of tile. Chloe just tilted her head to the side and meowed questioningly.

“Could you please change her back?” Pea asked faintly.

The goddess shrugged. “Of course.” With a flick of her wrist and more glitter, Chloe was once again a Scottie dog. As if she'd just come in out of the rain, Chloe shook herself and then sneezed violently before padding out of the room to find Max. “There! She's good as new,” Venus said. Pea was still staring at her. “What?”

“Well, uh, ma'am. I mean Your Highness—no that's a queen, not a goddess,” Pea murmured nervously before blurting, “I don't know what to call you!”

The goddess smiled. “Darling, Venus will do.”

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN


T
ell me about your love life,” Venus said.

“It's nonexistent,” Pea said.

“You're a virgin?”

“Oh, god no!” Pea's hand flew to her mouth. “I mean goddess no. I think.”

“You think you should say, ‘goddess,' or you think you're not a virgin?”

“Venus, talking to an actual goddess is nerve-wracking enough without adding expletive confusion into the mix.”

Venus grinned, glad the little mortal had begun to relax. “When in doubt, feel free to use the genitals of the gods as expletives. I certainly do.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“So you're not a virgin?”

“No.”

“But you're also not very experienced sexually.”

“No.”

“Do you masturbate frequently?”

Pea blushed. “Do we really have to talk about this?”

“Do you really want to change?”

Pea drew a deep breath. “I don't masturbate very often.”

“Why not?”

“For the same reason I don't like talking about it. It makes me feel uncomfortable, embarrassed and kinda guilty.”

“What a shocking attitude!” Venus snorted her disbelief. “Before we change your hair, clothes or your makeup”—the goddess squinted at Pea's face—“or rather your lack thereof, we must change your attitude about pleasure.”

“Okay…” Pea said doubtfully.

“Do you feel guilty and embarrassed when you prepare a sumptuous meal?”

“Of course not.”

“Even if you are the only one eating it?”

“No, that's silly. Just because I'm alone doesn't mean I can't—” Understanding brightened Pea's face. “Oh! I see what you mean.”

“Pleasure, like this excellent hot chocolate, is meant to be savored and enjoyed, not denied.”

“Okay.” This time Pea said it with more certainty.

“If you don't know your own body and what pleases it, how can you expect a man to know how to give you pleasure.”

“That's logical.”

“Of course it is. Love isn't always illogical, no matter what Persephone says.” In response to Pea's questioning look, she said, “The Goddess of Spring can be remarkably unromantic. I'll have to remember to work on that little issue in the future….” Venus shook herself and refocused on Pea. “But one problem at a time. So—first I want you to begin pleasuring yourself regularly. Be uninhibited.” With a mischievous smile Venus made a graceful gesture with her hand and a crystal bottle of sun-colored wine appeared on the table in a wave of glitter, causing Pea to yelp in surprise. “Do you have wine glasses, or shall I conjure some of those, too.”

“No! I have glasses.” Still staring at the sparkling golden liquid, Pea backed to a cabinet and pulled out two white wine glasses, and then brought them to the table. “Can you make anything appear like that?”

“Of course I can. I am a goddess.” Venus poured the wine. “This will help with your inhibitions.” She raised her glass and Pea did the same. “To pleasure,” Venus said with a purr.

“To pleasure.” Pea took a hesitant sip. She swallowed, and her entire face became suffused with joy. “This wine is amazing! I've never tasted anything like it.”

“It's ambrosia—the nectar of the gods.” Venus took a long, luxurious drink. “Harvested by nymphs from rare flower blossoms found only in the Elysian Fields. It is simply divine.” The goddess took another drink. “So, my plan to bring happiness and ecstasy to your life is really rather simple. First, you learn to accept pleasure.” Her shapely brows drew together. “What do you think of while you masturbate?”

“I—I don't know. Not much of anything I guess.”

Venus shook her head slowly. “Sad. Terribly sad. That must change, too. The next time you bring yourself pleasure—which should be tonight—I want you to fantasize.”

“About what?”

“Oh, darling! How tragic that you have to ask. Although I am, of course, the perfect goddess to ask.” She patted the mortal's hand. “Pea, fantasies are personal. Let your mind roam free
without
guilty retribution. For instance, is there a particular man you find especially attractive?”

Pea's cheeks flushed with more than the potent wine.

Venus smiled knowingly. “I see there is. Tell me about him.” She poured Pea more ambrosia.

“His name is Griffin. I guess you could say I've had a crush on him for awhile, but we sort of formally met just today. Actually he's what prompted me to get your book. He's the most gorgeous man I've ever seen, and he seems really nice, too.” Pea's slightly woozy grin faded. “But he barely knows I'm alive. Wait, no. He probably does know I'm alive now. On the way out of the restaurant I tripped and dropped the bag you gave me. The dildo fell out and rolled, vibrating, to his feet. I'm sure he thinks of me as ‘that girl with the penis.'”

Venus sipped her ambrosia, remembering the exquisitely handsome man who had retrieved Pea's phallus, and at the same time ordered herself to forget the spark that had passed between them. Pea was the focus here, not her own pleasure, and that beautiful man could definitely help bring Pea happiness and ecstasy.

“Then we'll just have to change the way he thinks of you,” Venus said with finality.

“Too bad it's not that simple.”

“Darling, with Love on your side, everything becomes much simpler.”

“And you”—Pea's hand was wobbly when she pointed at the goddess—“are Love!”

“And you”—Venus laughed lightly—“are finished with the ambrosia.” She scooted the bottle out of Pea's reach, reminding herself that mortals were highly susceptible to the rich wine of the gods. “Now, this is what I want you to do—”

“Homework?”

“Well, you're at home, but I scarcely think pleasuring yourself would qualify as work.”

Pea giggled.

“Pay attention. When you pleasure yourself tonight I want you to think about Griffin.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“Good. I want you to fantasize.”

Pea frowned.

Venus sighed. “Imagine how it would feel to have his hard, masterful hands on your body, and his clever tongue exploring the wet cleft between your legs, licking and teasing your pleasure center until you can bear it no longer, and then imagine him impaling you with his throbbing phallus and stroking and stroking until you're both shuddering with the force of your mutual orgasms.”

“I can do that,” Pea said breathlessly. “Well, good night!” She started to hurry a little unsteadily out of the room.

“Darling?”

Pea stopped and smiled back at her goddess.

“While this room is, indeed, comfortable and lovely, it doesn't appear to have a bed.”

“Oopsie!” Pea giggled. “Come right this way.” She tried to gesture grandly, but ended up looking so unsteady that Venus had to grasp her arm to keep her completely upright.

“I need to remember to water the ambrosia next time,” she said under her breath as she supported a still giggling Pea down a short hallway.

“This is the guest room,” Pea said, managing to draw herself up and slur only slightly. “The bathroom is through the other door. Make yourself at home. There's a bathrobe in the armoire. We'll take care of your clothes and stuff tomorrow.”

Venus gazed around the tidy, comfortable room decorated in different shades of white, eggshell and champagne, with antique-looking, lacy white dresses adorning one wall like three dimensional art, and a large framed picture of a wildflower-filled meadow decorating the other. The bed was white wrought iron and heaped with a thick comforter and pillows made of cream-colored vintage lace.

“Thank you, Pea. This is another lovely room.”

“Okey-dokey then. I'm off to do my homework.” And, giggling, she tottered away.

Smiling, Venus watched her go. She really was a delightful young woman. Fulfilling her desire for happiness and ecstasy couldn't be that complicated.

 

Vulcan told himself that he was checking on Venus. He knew she hadn't returned to Olympus, even though Persephone had. And he was, after all, supposed to be paying attention to the men she met—keeping in mind that perhaps one of them would have the potential to take his place. He was curious about the little mortal he'd watched in the restaurant, and yes, he'd been thinking of her. But that certainly wasn't the only reason he called open the thread of fire and gazed into his window to the modern world.

“I don't masturbate very often.”

Vulcan felt the jolt of Pea's unexpected comment down through his loins. Venus was there—in Pea's home—and, as usual, she was preoccupied with someone else's sex life! But why was she there? He continued to listen, intrigued by the sweet, shy mortal. Apparently, the Goddess of Love was there to give Pea guidance and help her find happiness and ecstasy.

“It's just like Venus to meddle in a mortal's personal life,” he said with a growl.

But the more Vulcan listened, the more he understood that Pea had asked for Venus's aid—that the little mortal wanted to change who she was—to become
more
, which was something the Fire God understood perfectly. He studied Pea. Yes, she was rather plain and dressed in an unflattering manner, but Vulcan could see through the dowdy charade to the compassionate woman beneath. He could also see that most people wouldn't bother to look below her surface—just as the immortals didn't look below his surface.

Pea spoke of a handsome man from the restaurant. Vulcan glowered, remembering how the mortals had laughed at her embarrassment. A man like that didn't deserve a rare creature like Pea! It wasn't that he was jealous. (How could he be?) It was just that he was concerned. He, too, was compassionate, though no one seemed to understand that about him.

His fierce expression changed to unaccustomed laughter as the ambrosia worked its magic on Pea. Surprised, he saw that Venus was going to stay the night in Pea's home. How odd! And then his surprise multiplied tenfold when the thread, which should have stayed with Venus, split, allowing him to move invisibly with Pea as she swayed happily down the hall to her bedroom.

His vision followed Pea into her comfortable bedroom, and he watched, filled with curiosity as she turned on soft, slow music and then began to light the candles that rested on her nightstand. Humming to herself, she pulled down her thick bed linens, and turned out the bright overhead light, leaving only the candles to illuminate the room. Obviously she was getting ready for sleep, but she didn't appear to be tired. Then Vulcan's eyes widened as Pea began to dance. Slowly, sensuously, she raised her arms over her head, rounding them gracefully as she moved to the music. Vulcan was amazed. Until then she'd given no evidence of such exquisite grace or, he admitted, such beauty. When she danced it seemed she cast off the skin of her awkward shyness and became an entirely new person. Hypnotized, he hardly breathed when she peeled out of the shapeless, one piece sleepwear and continued her dance, turning, dipping and stretching elegantly in only a pair of snug fitting, unadorned panties.

The thought passed through his heated mind that he shouldn't be watching her—that it was not entirely honorable to spy on so intimate a scene. But he could not stop his compulsion to watch her. Vulcan ignored his mind and, for once in his life, allowed his desire and his heart to rule him instead.

Pea's body was another surprise. She'd seemed so small and even fragile in the overly large clothes she wore. Now he could see that her body was sleek without being thin and lithely muscled without being bulky. Her breasts teased him. They weren't large, but they were exquisitely formed—no, they were more than exquisite. They were pouty globes that puckered invitingly. Her buttocks…Vulcan was mesmerized by the sight of her well-rounded, womanly bottom moving so seductively. It seemed to cry out for his touch—for him to cup her sweetness in his hands and lift her to him and…

He couldn't bear it any longer; she was like a drug invading his body. Vulcan succumbed to the overwhelming urge to touch her. Just for an instant he sent a single strand of his divine essence through the fiery thread and let it lick her body.

Pea writhed.

Shifting, he loosened the tie of the short linen wrap he wore slung low about his hips and his erection lifted, full and hard, against his belly. As if she could sense his desire, Pea concluded her dance and, skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat in the flickering candlelight, she lay back on the bed. She closed her eyes and let her hands glide over her body. Hesitantly at first, and then with growing passion, she cupped her breasts. As her thumbs rubbed over her nipples her head fell back against the pillows. Vulcan saw her mouth open with a moan and watched as her caresses went from unsure to heated.

The god's breathing deepened with hers. His heartbeat increased. Mirroring her moan he wrapped his hand around his phallus and began to slowly pump while he continued to watch her.

BOOK: Goddess of Love
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