Read Online Desperate Housewives of Olympus by Saranna DeWylde - Free Book Online

her where she’d been and she declined to tell you?”
    “I don’t care what she does, so I don’t ask.”
    “I bet that would change if she were banging the shit out of, say, Poseidon?”
    “Have you heard something?” He narrowed his eyes at her.
    “No, just an example.” Abstinence shrugged as if she couldn’t care less.
    He studied her for a moment. “Let’s not talk about my wife.”
    “Why not? I met her today.” Abstinence was having more fun with this than she probably should have. It was just that he was so sure of himself, so sure of his place in the universe and really believed he wasn’t governed by the rules that applied to everyone else. So the startled look on his face pleased her immensely. It made her wonder what other things she could say that would shock him.
    “You what?”
    “She’s hot.” Another blow he wasn’t expecting, by the look on his face.
    His eyes glazed over. “Yeah? Because you know we could—,”
    Why did this reaction not surprise her? She interrupted him. “Maybe. But I don’t want to, you know, die to do it. So why don’t you work on finding me a loophole?” This flirting thing wasn’t as hard as she’d thought it would be. “But you already said you didn’t want to talk about your wife. So let’s talk about you while we get the DVD fired up.” Abstinence gave him a guileless smile. All males like to talk about themselves, or so her sister had been fond of saying. She was about to put all of that sage advice her sister had handed down to her in those midnight whisper sessions to use.

PERSEPHONE
     
    “You can’t be here,” Persephone squeaked when she saw Eros coming up the stairs to her room. Holy balls, her mother would skin him like a rabbit and wear him like a winter coat. Demeter would have a two-headed epileptic cow if she knew Eros was not only in the house, but on his way up to see her. In her bedroom. She’d die of the horror and then she’d smite everything for miles. It would be nothing short of Chernobyl.
    “No, it’s okay. She’s the one who let me in.” Eros took another step to stand on the foyer.
    Persephone narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh. What kind of arrow did you shoot her with to get her to do that?” It would’ve had to have been one that knocked her out for oh, say the next year.
    “A really sharp one.” The corner of his mouth curved up in a smirk.
    Seriously, there would have to be something wrong with Demeter on a basic level to let a god in the house. “No, really. Is she okay? She must be sick or something.” Persephone stepped around him to go down the stairs, but he grabbed her wrist.
    “She’ll be okay, but she actually is kind of sick. Demeter is resting in her room.”
    “Oh no! Let go of me. I have to go see if she needs me.” She tugged at his grasp and continued down the stairs.
    “No, Persephone,” he admonished gently. “You don’t. You need to let her be on her own and you, you’ll come with me.”
    “Have you lost your mind? I can’t leave with you.”
    “I have her permission .” He said the last word as if it was a coveted sweet and it stopped her dead in her tracks.
    “You’re kidding?” Persephone’s eyes went wide. She knew she probably looked like a startled anime character, but she couldn’t help it. Demeter had told her shit would stick to the moon like peanut butter before she let some sex fiend god take her anywhere. Not that she thought Eros was a sex fiend. In fact, he’d been nothing but a resident of the friend zone the whole time she’d known him. He seemed to be comfortable there. Demeter had always told her gods would do anything to get into her knickers, even lurk in the friend zone until the time to strike was ripe.
    “Nope. I can take you out and about today and I told her about the picnic in Elysium.”
    “She must really be feeling horrible.” Persephone wrinkled her nose. “Wait, is she on her death bed or something?”
    Eros’ face was unreadable, but he