I need more than twenty-four hours.
Denied. I’ll be back, wife.
∞∞∞
Iam
I’m addicted but I’m not surprised. Access to my wife even in a mortal’s body is the best kind of drug. We’re connected. Tethered. I can feel her like she’s a part of me. The only way I can truly leave her alone is if it’s an order and she mean it. Until then she must accept that she’s mine. I’ve looked for her far too long just to have her disappear.
She’s tried avoiding me but her mortal tactics will not work. It’d be comical if it weren’t annoying. The thing my sweet mortal doesn’t understand is that running requires chasing. She’d have more freedom if almost every waking thought didn’t express her desire to get away from me. We’ve been going at this for about a week. She’s stubborn, I’ll give her that. It’s actually arousing.
Let’s see, where is she today. A remote island. Nice. I’m watching her. She spins in her bikini as she takes in the pristine sand andclear water. We had a spot like this. I marvel at the mystery of her mind as I watch the sun bounce off her back. Her memory was wiped yet she feels compelled to do things or visit places that are linked to the Sigyn I know. Linked to us.
I wait until she settles with an alcohol concoction. I want her to be at the happiest when I ruin her day. I withhold my snicker. She flew hours on a plane to a place I could have brought her in seconds.
Ah. This is the life!
That’s my cue. She jumps, spilling some of her drink on her belly when I appear.
“If you wanted to go on a honeymoon, all you had to do is say so.”
“You! How…”
“We need to review human vocabulary words. I’m a god. What does that mean to you? I don’t think you understand the concept. Tell me how you think it works. Like did you think I am a regional god who cannot track you anywhere in the world?”
I inhale her as I collect the alcohol from her belly with my tongue. The issue mortals have when dealing with gods is, we know shit before your mortal brain can process it. Her body is hot for me and her arousal has the effect of flashing red at a bull.
I’m lying on top of her before she can respond to my question. “Stop playing with me, Sigyn.”
She flinches at her name. It’s like although the memory isn’t there, the feelings are. “That’s not my name,” her light brown eyes shine with defiance. “And since you know so much, mighty god, why can’t you catch a hint?”
My wife flinches when I grab her jaw. I squeeze a little more to ensure she’s paying attention. “Youare the one who needs to fucking pay attention. You’re mine. That’s what the fuck you need tocatch.”I deliver a bruising kiss that ends with me biting her lip. “Enjoy your vacation. Good luck relaxing while wondering when I’ll pop up next.”
I leave her there before I kill her and wait for a new version to appear. She’s infuriating but my dick likes it. I return home to relax. I may have been tired of my life on earth, but shit just got interesting. I’d either need to “kill” my current persona or get back to work. I don’t have to work but it’s a good distraction.
There is no way I would’ve been able to roam the earth for a century and not meddle in some kind of way. It’s not my nature. I’ve done the mob boss thing, a doctor, a musician, a movie star, led a cartel, ran a Ponzi scam, been a cartoonist, lived as a rich person’s dog, headlined at the circus, and been a porn star. Good times. Now, I’m an illusionist. Talk about getting paid to do nothing.
I giggle to myself as I walk in a Vegas hotel for my show. Being a world-famous illusionist requires travel. Good thing I can appear anywhere at any time. Gotta love the commute.
“Iam! There you are!”
My assistant Astrid continues to hope we’re going to fuck but I’ve been over mortal pussy. Only Sigyn can get a rise out of me, literally. Everyone else is meh.
“Hey, Astrid. Give me the details of the show.”
She follows me and gives me a run down of our schedule. Reno tomorrow and LA Sunday.
“Let me book the hotel for you,” she offers for like the hundredth time.
I turn to look her in the eyes. The lost puppy thing used to amuse me but now I’m on the level of bitch-take-a-hint.
“I love my privacy. I never let anyone know where I’m staying. No one. That’s final.”
Truth is. I always sleep in my own bed no matter where I go, I return home. Now, I havemore motivation. She pouts and leans her fake breasts onto me -I could’ve given her a better boob job- and fixes me with chocolate eyes filled with naughty promises. I’ve already read her mind. The sex ideas are so basic I almost laugh.
She can’t begin to imagine what I could do to her body. Astrid could be so broken by me that she’d land in the psych ward after one good fuck. No thanks.
“Tell me about the show,” she concedes for now. I know she’ll start up again, but it doesn’t matter because the answer is no for eternity.
