GODDESSES INC

5

Inna turned her head to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window. The city stretched before her. It was buildings, freeways, and palm trees as far as the eye could see. However, the view this afternoon was different. It no longer beckoned. Its charms replaced with curses. Uncertainty glared from the buildings. Fears glinted off the glass towers. Worry hovered like smog. The view offered no harvest, no justice, and no protection for her new life as a mortal.

Inna lifted her hand, pinched the top. The skin snapped in place. When would the aging begin? When would the cold hand of mortality grab her by the throat and squeeze the celestial breath from her lungs?

"Are you watching me play today? You'll sit courtside."

Inna turned, her lithe naked body illuminated goddess-like in the window, to regard the gorgeous hunk of handsome sprawled on the custom-made king-size bed.

"You're my lucky fuck."

Inna smiled hard through her wince. She hated that word. It was so...primitive. So base. Goddesses didn't fuck. They made love, copulated, indulged in hedonist pursuits, engaged in fleshly delights.

Duncan Eze, point guard, playboy, and basketball shoe maven, rolled over and propped himself up on an ebony muscled arm that would make anyone salivate. His whole body looked like a carving of strength and raw masculinity.

Inna stretched her arms to the ceiling, wiggled her body. "Lucky fuck, am I?"

"You're more than that, babe. You've gotten under my skin. You're the first woman I've ever..."

"Ever what?"

"Think about afterwards." His huge hand patted the sheet. "Basketball. Food. You." He grinned. "Damn girl, you wear me out."

Inna pursed her lips and shrugged, a ripple of fear skittering up her spine. Would her luck run out too? How long would she be Duncan's lucky charm?

"What's wrong, babe?" Duncan sat up, swung his long, muscled legs over the bed, and planted size seventeen feet on the Turkish carpet.

"Why do you ask?"

"Usually you beg for round two." He stood, walked across the room in long strides.

"I was fired this morning."

"Fired? I didn't know you had a job." Duncan opened the double-doored closet. Another room, actually. "Thought you were a Nigerian princess or something." He pulled out a custom-made dress shirt.

"Goddess," Inna mumbled under her breath.

"Huh? You say something?" He shrugged on the shirt, buttoned it up.

"I wish I were a princess, then at least I could sell my tiara and jewels to survive."

Duncan stopped dressing, his jaw tightening. "Money. All the bitches want money."

"I don't want your money." Inna stomped toward him. "What did I say about calling women bitches?" She reached out, stroked his face.

"Not to." He flicked her hand away. "You're not my mother."

She caught his hand, kissed the palm. "I was very clear about what I do and do not tolerate when we started dating."

Duncan's face softened. "A woman with relationship rules. That's what I like about you." He smiled. "Here's Duncan's rule. I'm tired of women who are after my money."

"That's not a rule." She ran her hand down his arm, gave his massive bicep a squeeze.

"No money talk."