God of Ecstasy by Lena loneson Read Free Book Online

anymore.”
    “Why not? Did you hurt your hands?” He looked alarmed,
reaching for her.
    “No, I just—well, you don’t make a lot of money from art
these days.”
    He nodded. “There aren’t many patrons anymore. I remember
that much from my last few stays out of the bottle.”
    “So I used to keep it up as a hobby, but well, paints are
expensive and there really wasn’t room for a studio, Keith and I each needed an
office. My ex-husband.”
    “He doesn’t live here anymore? So now you have room for a
studio.” He grinned at her, pleased to have solved one of her problems.
    She smiled back. “I guess? I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe
it would be fun to paint again. But I think I’ve forgotten how to be an
artist.” They had settled back into regular conversation and she was starting
to feel comfortable with him now. “Maybe I’ll paint the house, make it my own
again—I hate these cream-colored walls. I’ll paint them some crazy color that
would make it impossible to resell. Purple everywhere. I could get the girls to
help. If I ever get around to it.”
    He was studying her face carefully, a serious expression on
his own. “That sounds beautiful.”
    “Well, maybe you can help. Can you paint?”
    He cocked his head and seemed thoughtful. “No, but I might
be able to help.” Then he changed the subject abruptly. “What do you do, if you
don’t paint?”
    “I’m a web designer. The sites I just showed you, Missy’s
and Giselle’s and Liv’s, I made those.” She explained the coding again and
pointed out the online albums presenting photos of their art, the menus she’d
designed, the choice of fonts and colors. “It sounds so technical coming out of
my mouth, doesn’t it? I don’t even remember how to talk like an artist
anymore.”
    He took the tablet from her again, staring at Liv’s website
with a photo of her up close and center. “But this is beautiful. You’ve pulled
out the green in her eyes for the background, just as if you were to paint her.
The letters—what did you call it, font? They’re smooth and mysterious, like her
smile, and curled in the same way the brushstrokes in her paintings are. You’ve
captured her perfectly.”
    Jaime blinked, looking at the website as if for the first
time. Of course she’d known all this already—she’d chosen everything
deliberately, she supposed, even if she didn’t think of it in terms of
painting. But to have someone else see it that way, her boring day job as art?
    A grin played at her mouth. He really understood. She turned
and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” she said.
    “Of course. Now what is it you wanted to ask me?”
    Jaime pushed down the last of her disquiet. What did history
mean, anyway? Especially history from thousands of years ago. “It doesn’t
matter.” And in that moment, she was almost convinced that it didn’t.

Chapter Four
     
    After they’d showered together, necking like teenagers and
washing each other’s hair, Dionysus asked Jaime what she’d like for her second
fantasy. She refused to tell him, saying only that she had a plan, but needed
to go out for supplies. His black curls bounced as he nodded and smiled at her,
waving goodbye. Then lowered his head back to her tablet computer, which he’d
been obsessed with since their last discussion.
    She was tempted to dismiss the fantasy concept and tear off
her sundress, pushing him to the floor and taking him there in the foyer, but
instead she grabbed her purse and let the door close behind her.
    As Jaime’s heels clicked down the stones of her walk, she
pressed down the questions that were bothering her now. If tonight would be her
second fantasy, the next would be her third. What would happen then? Would he
vanish back into the bottle, forever, or at least until his next mistress
called?
    It had been over forty years since the last time he’d
surfaced in her world. Would she even still be alive the next time it