Daughters of Olympus (Reverse Harem Romances)

But I didn’t have a choice. Not really. This was meant to be, as crazy as it sounds.

I walk past a bedroom with two bunk beds in it and go into the bathroom. I quickly clean myself up, looking in the mirror and try to see if I remember the girl in front of me.

But it’s like I changed overnight. And not just like... I did change. My legs are freaking me out, not to mention my sexual prowess and my appetite for risky endeavors.

Running my hands through my hair, I turn away from my reflection. If I try to actually understand this, I’ll only end up more confused.

I climb up to the main deck, my breath catching as I take in the gorgeous sunrise.

My head falls back, and I want the morning sky to soothe my worries. However, the view does nothing to ease my confusion.

What the actual fuck am I doing here? I don’t think an orgy with four strangers was exactly the kind of risks Chloe was talking about last night when she said I could be all kinds of badass with this new tattoo. I basically just asked for an STD, or probably worse.

I’m insane. Last night, I literally let the ocean sweep me away.

Bright pinks and purples streak the morning sky, and the waves crash onshore, relentless as ever. I want to understand. Something.

I lift my head, blinking back the tears that forever threaten to roll down my cheeks.

And that’s when I see him.

Poking his head out from the white foam of a wave.

I shake my head in disbelief at the seal. His head bobs in the water, his dark eyes locked on mine.

My pink hair whips in the wind and for a moment I consider how many more risks I want to take before I swim home.

But this seal is like a lighthouse in the eye of the storm raging in my heart.

A beacon.

A safe haven.

It makes no sense, yet I find myself moving to the edge of the boat, raising a leg to the railings.

My heart catches, as with a backward glance, I think about the men below deck. The men who gave me a night I will never forget, a night that changed me.

But then the seal barks, calling for me.

Even if a large part of me wants to stay right here on this boat, knowing the men will wake up and have their way with me all over again--a stronger impulse forces me to turn back to the water.

I can’t stay away.

I dive into the current.

8

Eric

I wake up feeling like part of my heart has been torn from my body. I lurch forward, reaching for her... but Harlow isn’t here. Instead, there’s just a pile of naked guys.

“Dude!” West shouts at me. “Don’t even.”

I move my hand away, realizing I was unintentionally touching him. We may have been more than okay sharing Harlow last night, but there is still a line in the sand. These are my teammates. Nothing more.

Except after last night, I doubt that is the truth. It sure as hell felt like more as Harlow took each of us, repeatedly. Her flesh against our flesh, her skin glowing more and more as she came against us.

Damn, I’m getting hard thinking about it. Which is not cool considering my bedmates.

I get out of bed, reaching for my shorts, and pull them on, wanting to know where Harlow is.

Needing to know where she is. The urge to protect her is fierce, and after our night together like she’s rooted herself in my muscle memory. I am less of a man without her here.

She isn’t in the cabin, and before I even start a pot of coffee, I climb the stairs to the deck.

“Harlow?” I crane my neck, moving quickly, then with intensity. She isn’t here.

“Hey,” I call down to the guys who are all beginning to get out of bed. “Is she in the bathroom? The shower or something?”

I hear movement and then Crew calls up. “She isn’t here.” He bounds the steps quickly, as do Kai and West.

“What the fuck?” West asks. “Where’d she go?”

We lean over the railing and look out to the sea.

“No way, she wouldn’t have,” Kai says. “That’s suicide. We’re in the middle of nowhere.” His voice shakes--and Kai is the cockiest SOB I’ve ever met--he doesn’t waver. Until now.

“She isn’t entirely human though... is she?” West asks quietly. It’s strange because even he seems shaken.

Like without Harlow, we don’t know how to be ourselves.

“I don’t know what she is,” Crew says. “But what she did last night... I mean, what we all did, it wasn’t of this world. I’ve fucked a lot of women and that wasn’t sex... that was...,”

“Love.” My voice, shockingly enough, is steady. Like the truth, when uttered, leaves a calm on the boat that should be rocking with fear.