Eros thought he knew everything about love. Being a Cupid and all. But that was before he met Penelope...
For nearly a decade, he's tried-and failed-to match her and her true love, Trevor. If he doesn't make the match by the ten-year deadline, he fa...
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I guess I'm going with Andris's plan after all. When I asked Penelope over to watch a movie, I was still on the fence. Taking mortal form was a rash decision born out of desperation when I realized I only had another six months before H-Day; the day they'll demote me to Harbinger and I'll grow ugly horns. I didn't have a plan as much as a grim determination to make sure no horns would ever tarnish my face and a willingness to do anything in my power to keep that from happening.
Seducing Penelope, however, had never occurred to me as a potential plan until Andris mentioned it. At this point, what have I got to lose? If a broken heart won't send her into the arms of Trevor, then nothing will. I ignore the warning bells ringing in the back of my mind as I resolve to forge ahead. Step one of my new scheme: make sure she knows this is a date.
We're facing each other on the couch, and I lean in closer, keeping my eyes locked with hers. She looks adorable tonight in an oversized jumper she keeps hiding her hands in because the sleeves are too long, and her chocolate-brown hair tied up in a messy bun after it kept getting stuck on her pizza. Her cheeks are dusted with pink from the alcohol, and her eyes sparkle as she stares back at me.
"Let's see if I can clear it up a little..."
When she doesn't pull back, I lift my hands to cup her head, my fingers touching the hair behind her ears. It's nearly as soft as Leonard's. Closing the space between us, I brush my lips over hers. Once. Twice. I only meant to prove my point, but her lips are so soft and inviting beneath mine that it's not nearly enough, so I capture her mouth in a fervent kiss.
She smells lightly of vanilla and almond after her shower, and she tastes like heaven.
Maybe this is a terrible plan, but right now, I don't really care. She's responding to my advances with a reckless abandon that might be partly because of the alcohol, but I like to think it's because she's enjoying herself. I certainly am, even if I shouldn't be. This is just another job, I remind myself as I deepen the kiss, exploring her fully.
Her arms snake around my shoulders and her fingers bury in the hair at the back of my head. A moment later, I'm sitting back against the couch and she's straddling me. I'm not even sure who made that move. It might have been me. The idea of just giving her a quick kiss to reaffirm my intention to date her is long forgotten.
I love the feel of her on top of me and my hands drift down along her back to cup her bottom, a part of her I may have admired for years without admitting it to anyone. Including me. It's truly a marvelous ass, though. My fondling makes her grind against me, and those warning bells are sounding a little louder as my body immediately responds. This is just another job.
Cupids aren't really meant to have relations with humans. It's not exactly banned to be with mortals, just frowned upon. We definitely shouldn't dally with our targets. Not that we're celibate, but most of us hook up with each other, or some of the other supernaturals. If someone is desperate enough, they might even deign to meet a Harbinger in a dark corner somewhere.
