Chapter 5- Hera

I do not know which is worse, inviting Blaze over to seduce him just so that I can find out whether he is attracted to me, or the fact that he is here now and I am about to let him inside, wearing nothing but a black, lace lingerie two-piece with only a transparent mesh dress covering the atrocities underneath.

As I head down the grand staircase, anxiety nearly making me take the steps two at a time, I feel utterly bare. And though I try to suppress the uncomfortable tingling, focused on the warm lights of the ludicrously elaborate chandelier hanging from the lobby's domed ceiling, for some reason, cold creeps up along my skin, raising the goosebumps there- on the chunk of exposed flesh that would give Blaze or anyone else pause.

And while it is about eight p.m., quiet this far out of town and very chilly outside, it feels even later up this hill, the shivers even more brutal, spreading across every inch of me until no part is left untouched… especially the cold feet I have now grown. I am about to meet Blaze at the door and turn him away because I have changed my mind. Being alone with him in the house given that particular context will only end in extreme awkwardness.

I reach the landing, headed for the double doors, and my phone rings in my hand. I slide a thumb over the screen without a glance at the caller ID.

The crunching of snacks sounds before the voice. Astrid. "Is he there yet?"

"Yes. He rang the bell some moments earlier."

"So, what are you waiting for? I need audio pronto. I have to hear everything. Well, right until you really get down to it…"

I rub my face.

"Well…?"

"I am on it. "

I rush back upstairs, get my portable, Apple-branded wireless headsets and slip one of the pair in my ear. I then drop my hair over my shoulders. As I bound down the hallways, I call Astrid. And because she is now listening, my anxiety levels are higher as I sprint for the lobby again.

I finally stop at the full length mirror on the patio and try to talk myself out of this behavior. Ash-blonde locks, wide, sapphire eyes, high cheekbones, an oval face and a bottom lip going through more than its fair share of suffering as I bite down hard on it and fidget before the intricately panelled glass, all stare back at me.

Yet as if this isn't enough, my reflection only goes ahead to remind me that I am covered in just mesh and black lace. And at this point, the lingerie under the sheer dress could pass off as tattoos, stuck to every curve like a second skin.

"What are you still doing?" Astrid says in my ear. "You're going to keep him going. What if he leaves?"

He is not going to. This is beyond misguided conceit making me think I am irresistible. It is just an understanding that nature is going to let my suffering endure. "I am heading there now."

"Stop staring at yourself in the mirror. You rock. Now get to the door and get yourself some man meat."

She knows me so well.

With a sigh that could only be agony's firstborn, I pull myself from the patio and head for the main doors to open them. The look that comes on Blaze's face when I do could have warmed up a small cup of coffee.

But before he can say anything, I pull him inside, lock the door behind me and lean against it, chest heaving. His eyes are still on me. Yet when I meet that molten gaze, he averts it.

"Are you dressed for bed?" He finally asks, swallowing.

"Yes."

"Should I come back tomorrow?"

"What is wrong with tonight?"

"The netting covering your breasts and crotch leave very little to the imagination."

I take in a sharp breath. So does Astrid. Soon after, I hear her cackle.

"You sexy nerd... what are you wearing? You have him all worked up," she says in the wireless earpiece.

I ignore her and turn to Blaze. "So… you do not… like it?"

"I do," he answers quickly. "They look so beautiful. Sorry, I meant, erm... you don't mind that I am seeing you like this?"

"Not except you do. I won't want you to feel uncomfortable."

He blinks, chokes on laughter just before he sputters. "Uncomfortable? Are you kidding me?"

The sigh that breezes out of my lips is relieved. "Perfect." Silence passes. "So, what now?"

"Where do you want your shelf?"

"Oh, yes. Follow me."

I lead the way up to the first floor, and soon, we are walking down a hallway lined with gold and royal blue wallpaper. While for seconds on end, locked, heavy oak doors wave at us on both sides, we pass by one with that is slightly ajar. A table and chair are visible through the sliver of space.

"Is this your bedroom?" Blaze asks.

I pause in my stride. "No, I investigate in here."

He looks unbelieving. "You work for the cops?"

I would rather walk on red-hot coals.

"No. I like to call myself an unconventional detective with an eye for overlooked information and a fixation with questionable methods- the same ones that have been very instrumental in investigating my parents' disappearance," I say. "As it stands now, I have gone farther than even the police... ever since I took the matter into my own hands."

"That is very impressive," Blaze says, then pauses and clears his throat, mildly embarrassed. "The fact that you've made a lot of progress, I mean. Not that your parents are missing."

"I know." I give him a warm smile and he returns it, meeting my gaze. Soon, his stare glides lower, down my chin and collarbones to the place where the neckline of my bralette plunges into my cleavage. My breath catches in my throat. He steps closer, eating up some of the distance between us, and though my feet are rooted in the marble, my body seems to lean into his.

My phone rings then and I swear under my breath. Astrid.

I give Blaze one apologetic look and point him down to my room close to the end of the hallway while I drift farther from him to take the call.

"What happened?" She asks as soon as I pick up the call. "For about three minutes, there was just radio silence. Did you give him a heart attack?"

"He was spending an inordinate amount of time checking me out, and for a moment there, he looked as if he was going to kiss me," I answer. "But now we are never going to know. You ruined the moment."

"Well, go get it back," she says, remorseless, still crunching on her… chips? Crispies? Peanuts, I think. "I want to hear some action, Hera. You already set the stage. Now is your chance. Ask him how he feels about you. Again, you have to push Humphrey. If you don't, he might take ages. Do you want him to take ages?"

"No."

"Now go in there and shatter his world."

I sigh, agreeing. "But please refrain from making comments on the headset. They are very distracting."

The sound of nuts being crushed soullessly follows. "What do you mean? I have been very discreet."

"Astrid."

When I reach my bedroom and stand by the doorway, Blaze is crouched over the pile of white, filed soft wood that is soon to be my new crime thriller book shelf, packets of screws and nails laid before him as he runs his eyes over the attached DIY manual.

He doesn't seem to notice that I am standing on the threshold, my hands clasped over my phone, too busy turning the huge paper this way and that. A message pings into my phone from my Messager app. Astrid.

Ultra-viole(n)t: Well?

I blow out a sigh and begin to type.

Miss Dangereuse: I am getting there.

Immediately I hit send, she is typing again.

Ultra-viole(n)t: I was hearing more graveyard silence, that's why... No words, just lots of breathing, and not the deep, raspy kind we're aiming for tonight, either.

My gaze goes to Blaze. He is still fiddling with the manual, but he definitely knows I am in the room. I see it in the tenseness of his shoulders. He still hasn't turned yet.

Miss Dangereuse: I think he is avoiding me.

Astrid blows out a huge sigh and I hear it on my earpiece. And while she has agreed to not distract me with her voice, she verbalizes her annoyance by text.

Ultra-viole(n)t: No, he is not.

Miss Dangereuse: He is. Apparently the shelf is more interesting. I am about to send him home.

Ultra-viole(n)t: Hera.

Miss Dangereuse: Astrid.

Ultra-viole(n)t: Hera.

Miss Dangereuse: Fine. I am going.

I enter the room and clear my throat loudly. Blaze turns to me. "Hey, Hera-"

"How do you feel about penetration?" I blurt out thoughtlessly, and at once, I want to smack my own head. But the fiasco does not end there. "Ting. Penetrat-ing," I correct.

He looks puzzled. "Penetrating… what?"

"Me."

"Oh," he says.

"Do you think you would enjoy it?"

Ultra-viole(n)t: God, I'm dead. Call 911.

I toss my phone onto the bed and head for Blaze's side, ignoring the ping behind me as another message buzzes into the device. When I am before him, barely an inch of space separating us, my gaze slides down to the fly of his pants and I notice his erection.

"So?" I prod, stepping even closer, invading his personal space. We are so close our bodies are touching. "Do you want to penetrate me?"

As soon as the words leave my mouth, an aggressive vibration sounds on the pure-white sheets of my bed, but I ignore it. As for Blaze… He swallows, leans down, gripping my shoulder, his other hand at my waist as his eyes bore into mine… just before he bolts.