Zeus jumps onto my lap—a rarity. His weight is warm and grounding as he settles himself against my chest, his purr reverberating through both of us as I whisper into his fur.
“What am I going to do, big boy?”
TWENTY-SEVEN
RUBY
My phone buzzes beside my laptop. It’s after nine, and I don’t usually get messages on a Saturday night. The Morrison contracts blur in front of me as I reach for my phone.
I can see you.
My lips curve into a smile as I read Athena’s text. We exchanged numbers last night, but I’ve been restraining myself all day from reaching out. I didn’t want to seem too eager after everything that happened between us, but I never expected her to break first.
I glance out my office window, scanning the premises for a glimpse of her.
Where are you?I type back.
After sleeping most of the day—my body finally surrendering to exhaustion after our all-night conversation and mind-blowing make-out session—I’ve only been up for a few hours. It’s too early for the club, too early for Athena to normally be home from the Olympus. Perhaps she stayed home and slept as well. My phone buzzes again.
I’m in my car on the drive.
I peer through the darkness and notice her Aston Martin. The roof is up, windows tinted black so I can’t see inside.
What are you doing there?I ask.
Her reply comes quickly:I was about to go for a drive, then saw you. I decided I preferred this view to the desert.
I chuckle and feel my cheeks flush. How long has she been there? I’m wearing a simple black nightdress, comfortable enough for working late but quite revealing.
So you like to watch too, huh?I type, feeling bold.Like what you see?
The three dots appear, disappear, then reappear as she composes her response, and I hold my breath.
I do. Now,take off that dress.
My breath hitches. It’s not a request; it’s a command. Even through the impersonal medium of text, I can feel the authority in her words, the same dominance that had me pinned beneath her at dawn.
My heart pounds against my ribs. The woman who kissed me senseless is sitting in her car, watching me and asking for a show. Everything in me screams that this is madness and so unlike me, and that’s precisely why I stand and reach for the hem of my dress.
In one fluid motion, I pull it over my head and let it drop to the floor. I’m left standing in my black bra and matching panties—not the fancy new lingerie I purchased, just my everyday set. But Athena can’t discern the details from that distance.
Positioning myself directly behind the French doors, I’m silhouetted by the light of my office. I’ve never done anything like this before, never felt this combination of vulnerability and power.
My phone buzzes in my hand.You are exquisite.Then,another message follows:Take off the rest. I want to see you naked.
The directness of her demand catches me off guard and something shifts inside me. The disciplined attorney who calculates every risk dissolves, replaced by the version of myself I’ve only just met. Not the grieving widow. Not the corporate shark. Someone entirely new.
I set my phone down on the desk, face up, and a boldness overtakes me. I’ve never been the type to perform, to put on a show, but something about the anonymity of the distance between us, the darkness hiding her and the light exposing me, makes me want to play.
I turn my back to the window, giving her a view of my behind, my shoulders, the clasp of my bra. I glance over my shoulder, imagining her eyes on me, and slowly reach up to gather my hair, lifting it off my neck as if I’m about to tie it up.
I arch my back and hold this pose for a moment, then let my hair cascade back down. My hips begin to move in a slow, rhythmic sway. I’m channeling every dancer in every music video I’ve ever watched, every fantasy I’ve never acknowledged.
My fingers find the clasp of my bra, but I don’t unhook it immediately. Instead, I trace the edge of the band, running my fingers along my back. I roll my shoulders, continuing the sway of my hips, feeling both ridiculous and incredibly powerful.
When I finally unclasp the bra, I hold it in place, keeping my back to the window. I look over my shoulder again, imagining Athena’s face, the way her pupils would dilate, the way she’d grip the steering wheel tighter.
I let the straps fall from my shoulders but cross my armsin front of me, holding the cups against my breasts as I slowly turn to face the window again.
