Deep Water (Olympic Cove Book 3)
Poseidon, God of the Sea, has spent millennia alone due to a single terrible act. His consort Amphitrite has sworn never to forgive him, and he’s forced to live with the knowledge that he drove an innocent girl to her doom.
But when one of the Olympic Cove cottages gets an occupant with an all-too-familiar soul, Poseidon discovers that the Fates have given him a second chance. Now he must try to right the wrongs of the past and win back both his beloved consort and the mate he betrayed.
Assuming, of course, that the Mad Nereid Thetis doesn’t interfere…
Books in the Olympic Cove series:
Rated Four and a Half Stars. “I enjoyed every minute of it!”
– Book Junky Girls
Rated Four Stars. “Gods and demi-gods aside, it is Griff’s character who I feel really solidifies this story. His intelligence, sense of humor, and mortality add much needed realism among a world of divine beings.”
– Coffee Time Romance
Where to Buy
Griffin opened his mouth for another grape. Lisa popped it in, and he bit into the juicy fruit with relish.
“You like?” she cooed. Somewhere along the line she’d shed her gold dress, and was now wearing a very well cut bikini in the same color. She lounged next to him on the huge pouf, a bowl of chilled grapes between them.
“’S great,” Griffin said, swallowing.
“My turn,” Jennifer said, leaning across him to snag a grape. Her blue dress was also gone, replaced by an azure bikini filled with a beautifully curved, ripe body that would have made his pre-cancer cock sit up and howl.
She held the grape up to his lips. He opened them obediently, taking the treat.
“Feh—grapes. What you need is the liquid version, sweetheart.” Patricia knelt gracefully in front of him, red bikini blazing in his field of vision as she refilled his champagne glass yet again from the magnum. It had to be a new one by now, didn’t it, he thought muzzily as he was encouraged to take a sip. They’d finished the first bottle in the car, then another one on the boat, and now…
Where were they again?
He blinked up at creamy silk fabric overhead. They were in a little pavilion, like something out of 1001 Arabian Nights, filled with huge velvet poufs and smaller cushions for their feet. Little tables scattered around the pavilion held a staggering variety of food and drink, and he could hear soft music playing in the distance. Out front was a perfect blue sea almost exactly the color of Jennifer’s bathing costume. It was the ideal location for a party, just as they’d promised.
Oh, right. They were party planners, and wanted to show off their skills. “When are the others getting here?” he asked, blinking at the pavilion.
The women shared an amused look. “I’m afraid you’re the only one who took us up on our invitation, darling,” Lisa said with an adorable little pout. “You don’t mind having us all to yourself, do you?”
A flicker of guilt penetrated the pleasant haze. “No. But I wanted to invite my friend—”
“We don’t really need anyone else, do we?” Jennifer added, leaning closer. He couldn’t help staring at two round, creamy breasts as they pressed against his arm. “We’ll have so much fun, honey.”
“You are having fun, aren’t you?” Patricia said, big blue eyes wide and ingenuous. “If there’s anything you need, we’ll get it for you. All you have to do is ask, sweetheart.”
He nodded, and his head spun from the movement. Beautiful women, good wine, amazing food, gorgeous surroundings on the beach. It was all he wanted, wasn’t it?
Something niggled at the back of his mind. Something about kisses and a soft, baritone moan.
He blinked, struggling to sit up. “Dunn,” he croaked. “I need Dunn.”
“No, you don’t,” Lisa said firmly, pushing him back. “You’d much rather be with us, wouldn’t you?”
The other two moved in until he was surrounded with lush feminine beauty and a perfume that spun his senses.
But part of his mind was still fixed on Dunn. “Why can’t we invite him?” Griffin said woozily. “He’s my friend. I like him. I think I’m falling in love with him.” He grinned in wonder. “I’m falling in love with a bloke. Fancy that.”
Lisa tsked. “He’s a party pooper and an old grouch. And he’s married. You don’t want him.”
“You want us, sweetheart,” Jennifer purred. “We’ll take such good care of you.”
He could feel hands on his belt now, tugging it loose from its buckle. “No,” he said, putting his hand on a feminine one.
Patricia frowned at him. “Why not? Don’t worry, honey. We’re all clean, I promise.”
Another hand moved lower, caressing his still-clothed and flaccid penis. It felt … wrong.
“What’s wrong, darling?” Lisa asked, biting her lower lip. “Don’t you want us?”
All of them jumped when an authoritative voice barked, “No, he doesn’t, you vapid harpy. Now get your hand off his cock.”