Let's end Episode 9 with #Axria on the Greek islands...


Scene 13: Lovers

A.D. 2015

The isle of Ios downright pulsated with life at night - by day, the place was painted all in soft pastels and pristine white, but once the stars came out to play, the streets reflected all the vivid, varied shades of every nightclub's flashing lights. Just the kind of scene where Atria and Axel always thrived. They passed by countless bars and clubs, many named after various sexual positions and other classy things, until they hit their favorite, the popular spot known as Party 69.

"Still down with the plan?" he asked her as they arrived.

"You mean grabbing and going home with some random hunk?"

"Or watching me hit on another chick and coming home with us."

"Keep dreaming. Just make sure you've kicked her out by morning, so that I can skip out from my new short-term fυckbuddy's place before he, like, gets clingy or anything," she matter-of-factly ordered him.

"What if I want to keep the other girl around awhile?" he goaded, solely to gauge the look on her face, since that was not even remotely in the realm of possibility. Although he never wanted to admit it, he hated the idea of going home with any girl other than her, in all honesty.

"That's not the plan. We're each indulging in a one-night stand, just for the sake of 'seeing' other people, but you're still my sugar daddy. So I get first dibs on access to your dick, your digs, and your money, with priority over any other bitches you might 'see', until you decide you're officially done with me. Which I doubt you ever will be."

Axel blinked, wondering whether this was how Atria dealt with all her sugar daddies. "That's, uh-"

"Shut up and good luck finding someone else to fυck," she huffed, then strutted off into the club, a sheet of her sable hair grazing his face as she sharply swiveled her head before walking away. The scent and the feel of her smooth, silken hair always did things to him, and she knew it; she had obviously flicked her sensuous tresses on purpose.

If Axel didn't know better, he might have sensed some bitterness in Atria, about this whole arrangement he'd suggested. But he did know better - he knew that he was stupid and was surely just imagining it. Wishful thinking never failed to turn him into a deluded piece of shıt. By tomorrow, once she'd had a grand old time sleeping with someone else, he should be able to conclude once and for all that she felt nothing toward him, that he was not her weakness, and that - as essentially the only other option, damn it - Eldor probably was. That if she couldn't be with him, her savior and sort-of-but-not-really-big-brother, then she would settle for sex with anybody else and just pretend that she was cuddling with Prince Motherfυcking Charming.

Whereas if she couldn't bring herself to fυck someone else, then maybe, just maybe, some part of her would rather be with Axel only...

Maybe this thought process was not exactly logical. But it was as close to logic as his easily bruised, confused alpha-male ego could get.

Entering the club, Axel hid all of these troubled thoughts behind his go-to mask, a roguish shadow of a smile and beguiling bedroom eyes. It wasn't hard for him to keep up a constant awareness, a sort of supernatural sixth sense, of Atria's location all the while. Even from across a crowded room, amidst a sea of strangers - hell, even from halfway across the world - the hound inside him never once lost track of her.

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