God of My Dreams (Greek Heroes #1) ✅ Completed

Chapter Nineteen: Make with the Sexxy Already

Make with the Sexxy Already

Gwen-Stacey walked into her apartment later that night, kicking off her work shoes and glad to be home where things were relatively safe.

“It’s about bloody time you got home,” Morpheus complained from just inside her livingroom.

Had been relatively safe she silently amended. Gwen-Stacey had spent the entire day trying hard to focus on her day-to-day functions but her traitorous mind kept revisiting her latest nighttime escapades with one sinfully hot Greek god. She’d been late to three meetings, a court appearance, and had managed to head all the way to the far corner of Queens without her necessary casefiles. Her entire day had been one hot mess of the highest order.

Now it seemed her home wasn’t even a sanctuary for her to get away from thoughts of Morpheus - especially since he could just pop in and lie in wait for her whenever the mood arose.

“Don’t you have your own home?” she groused heading into the kitchen. She was saying the hell with it and filling her tallest wine glass from the box in the fridge...maybe until the bag inside the box ran dry.

“Yes. A rather nice one if you must know,” Morpheus informed her, not bothering to get up from the couch.  

“Then why aren’t you in it?” Gwen-Stacey yanked open her cabinet door and reached for her biggest glass.  

“Because I am here,” he stated matter-of-factly.  

Gwen-Stacey sighed. It seemed her evening was going to be just as tedious as her day had been. It was bad enough she’d been thinking about Morpheus all day, but the last thing she needed was having him in her apartment so he could watch her drool like the idiot she was slowly turning into. Being friends with a Greek god wasn’t as awesome as she’d originally imagined. As a matter of fact, it sort of blew. It was like being best friends with a supermodel – sure you’d get to tag along and go to all the great parties but you’d end up looking like the frumpy, dumpy purse holder the entire time.

“Fine, why are you here?” Gwen-Stacey asked as she opened the fridge and pushed down on the cheap plastic lever on her little slice of heaven. She listened as wine filled her glass, knowing exactly when to stop so that it reached just under the rim.

“To speak with you regarding your clear violation of our agreed upon terms of last night's challenge,” Morpheus said as he glided into her kitchen on silent feet. Even to Gwen-Stacey’s sharp ears, Morpheus didn’t make a sound. And yet she could feel herself becoming even more finely attuned to his physical signature.

God, she had it bad Gwen-Stacey realized more than a little disheartened. It was one thing to crush on a normal person when you were living with a disability, but a god? She might as well spread her arms and see if she could take flight too if she was going to fall into this sort of grand delusion.

Maybe that’s why her day had been so crappy. There was no way she could allow herself to get wrapped up in someone like Morpheus. It wasn’t healthy.

Gwen-Stacey took a large gulp of the blush wine, feeling the sweet, tangy taste instantly soothe her frazzled nerves. She turned back to face Morpheus, pinpointing his exact location by the stove.

“And which violation would that be, oh-great- and- powerful-dream-master?” she asked dryly.

If Morpheus bristled under her sarcastic tone he hid it well, “According to your terms of the competition we were only to construct original ideas,” he started.