Chapter 29: An Act of Distraction

Alicia had been terribly worried for her friend, Ares knew that. But he also knew that what had come back wasn't Angel. It's why he hadn't told Alicia yet and why he dreaded doing it now. Because in the end, he wasn't sure which alternative would be worse. He'd planned out an entire speech. Quick and succinct. But in her usual form, Alicia had thrown a monkey wrench into his plans by being the most adorable woman he'd ever seen.

Ares tipped back his head and laughed hard, though Alicia found nothing funny about her outfit. He was standing in their bedroom doorway, still dressed in his armor and leathers, painfully attractive. Though she felt her arousal sputter as he laughed at her expense. She scowled.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, glazing her form in shimmery light. Ares could hardly breathe. He'd been so tense on his way here and yet, somehow, she always soothed his nerves, whether or not she meant to. She looked positively ridiculous, but he'd never seen hideous look so good.

"Why do you look like an extra in 'Gods of Egypt' baby?" he gasped for air. Recently she'd made him watch the movie with her and hell if it hadn't been terrible. He'd spent the entire hour explaining how many of those depictions hadn't been real. Alicia didn't appreciate his firsthand knowledge much, grumbling about creative license and whatnot. And here she was, weeks later in some awful costume that screamed "I watched a terrible c-list movie and loved it." He couldn't stifle the snort.

"It's not fucking funny, Ares," she grimaced, already imagining how terrible she must have looked to him, "I thought…well, the advertisement said "Greek goddess" costume and I swear it didn't look this…baggy? Cheap…ugly when I saw the pictures online…" She pouted, tugging at the weird bunches of fabric everywhere. "It wasn't supposed to look Egyptian at all but…the more I look at it…the more I think they use the same for both costumes."

"Dammit, it came with a headpiece too, but now that I see it," she thumbed towards a plastic monstrosity on the bed, "I don't even know what it's supposed to…It looks like a princess crown? Ugh I'm just confused."

Her groan of displeasure snaked down Ares' spine. He knew it upset her, but that sound was all he could hear. Gods, he loved those sounds: the deep ones, the shallow ones, the inhales, the exhales, the gasps…His mouth dried as he forced himself to focus. The terribly ugly dress looked like someone had clipped recycled drapes in place with cheap, plastic sashes. Ares had the sudden urge to howl with laughter once more, but he didn't want to make her even more mad. The make-up sex was great, but he had things to tell her, and he wasn't sure her anger would make them easier to hear.

"Why are you shopping for Halloween costumes now anyway, my dove? It's not for a long while yet," he swiped some hair out of her face as he cleared the room, taking up a place behind her in the mirror's view. She ran her hand over his, pressing it to her abdomen.

"Because it's probably the last one we're ever going to have. I want to look nice," her tone was trying to be calm, trying to mask the deep well of anxiety she felt every time she thought of another involution. Ares' large, warm hands braced her stomach tighter. If he was going to go to war…

"Baby…"

"Can we not? Not right now. I just…Let's just talk about the end of the world later, okay?" she maneuvered out of his grasp, heading into the bathroom. He watched her as she kicked open the door and tugged the dress up. Wiggling and jumping, she finally pulled the sticky, scratchy fabric over her head and blew out a breath. "That thing was fucking hot."

The sound of the bathtub cutting on startled her. She whirled to find Ares behind her, leaned over the soaking tub as he sprinkled in some herbs and a capful of bubble bath. Her eyes shot up to his in question. He merely shook his head. Later, it said. Her shoulders tensed, noticing the way Ares' eyes danced across her skin, now bare except for a bra and a lacy bit of fabric that could barely qualify as underwear. He cleared his throat.

"Bath?" his voice faltered, and his eyes were still unable to find their way back up to her eyes. He lost himself between her chest and her stomach. His mind struggled between calming her down and working her up. He couldn't tell which he wanted more.

"See something you like, my handsome god of war?" His throat bobbed again. Alicia knew his weakness was calling him by his title. It was a brief flirtation between them, a reminder that she had seen all he was, all he could become, and she wasn't scared of it.

"Always," he rasped, as if he knew what she had been thinking. His eyes darted to the water, steaming and ready. Ares twisted the handle and tugged at his armor, letting his chest plate disappear as it fell to the floor, followed by his armored bracers. Alicia studied the linen shirt and leather sleeves as he undid the ties and pulled it over his head. His armored shin plates followed and disappeared.

He gave Alicia a lazy smile, unlacing his leather pants and stepping out of them. Those were by far her favorite of his clothes. It harkened back to something ancient, a time long before she'd ever existed. Ares ruffled his hair as he slipped below the water, the proud length of him settling under the bubbles.

She fought her own shyness, something that had slowly disappeared the longer she spent with the war god. He had no qualms with nakedness or displaying his body in ways that made hers flush at the sight. He certainly had no issue making her his own personal display, either. That's what she kept in mind—that he loved every inch of her, worshipped it as thoroughly as he could every time that he could. It's what held her anxiety at bay as she unsnapped her bra and slid her own panties down until she was bare. She heard the groan from across the room.

Alicia didn't dare a look at him until she was already lowering herself into the water and it was a good thing too, because one look at those hooded, glassy eyes had her ready. She positioned her legs, one on either side of his own as she drew lazy circles on the outside of his thighs with her toes. He flinched at each whisper of friction, his body becoming larger with every pass of her skin on his.

His authentic form lay across from her, closing in the far distance between them. Meaty, muscled thighs, thick, straining shoulder blades, corded lengths of lean muscle from his jaw to his collarbone and again from his elbow to his hands. She shivered into his grasp as he tugged her around until her back hit his chest.

"So…" his voice rumbled behind her, beneath her, through her, "I have some news…" His fingers trailed her arms on either side until they slipped under the surface of bubbles.

"Oh?" her voice breathless and baited as she waited to see where his hands would go next. Sparks lit up her left knee, then disappeared. Another set of sparks licked across her spine. She gasped, leaning further back into that sensation.

"Mm-hmm," his mouth curved to her throat just as he cupped between her legs, gripping her against his hardness. Not just because it drove his blood pressure up, but because he didn't want her too angry as he said his next words, "Your friend is back."

She tensed. Her hands gripped his thighs roughly. "Oh my god? When? Ah—" He slid a finger in, distracting her from the panic and the wild fear. Kissing her spine, he pressed into her favorite spot.

"She's not the same, though, baby. She's not Angel…not underneath," his breathing grew shallow as she arched into his touch. Gods, this kind of control always made him ravenous. It had been a while since he'd truly unleashed on her. The guilt he carried from shattering her hip was always enough to curb his urge. But as she slipped her hand between them, stroking her hand urgently and tightly against him, he thought about letting that control slip.

"I don't care…Whe-when can I s-s-see her-r?" she purred as his other hand slid up to clasp her throat. His teeth scratched her neck before his tongue lapped the area and sucked.

"Soon," he promised, "I just want to make sure—" His words choked off as she circled her thumb over his sensitive head.

"Fuck, I-I just want to make sure she's not a danger." He could tell her head swum in and out of focus. One moment she wanted to wheel on him and demand answers, the next, she wanted to bite down on her own lip until it drew blood because the pace his fingers had reached was punishing and mind-blowing.

"Say you'll let me choose when you see her," he whispered in Alicia's ear, pulling his finger from her slickness. Alicia whimpered, moving, and grinding herself against him. "So needy," he teased, licking the full length of her neck in deep strokes.

"Say it…" he lifted her hips, positioning himself exactly where she wanted him, exactly where he wanted to be. He nudged but didn't push further. Another of her whimpers. He could tell she was debating whether to give in. He could tell she didn't know what to make of it. But if she trusted him, she would let him choose when. If she trusted that he would protect her at all costs, she wouldn't fight him on this.

"O-okay," she panted, sliding down on his tip.

"Oh, thank the gods," he growled, releasing the little hold of control he had.