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No, no, no. We can’t have that.
I wrap my hands around his neck and hang from him, staring up into his handsome face like a love struck puppy. “You’re so strong.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters and rolls his eye. Then he does something strange.
Hesmiles. Tight-lipped, but real, nonetheless.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. He frowns at me, smothering his emotions, locking them in a concrete box. I poke his left cheek. “Nice dimples.”
He grunts and then swings his arm down so he can grab my legs. Hoisted into the air with ease and out of harm’s way, Odin brushesthe broken glass under the bed so that I won’t split the soles of my feet. Then, he steps toward the bed and places me into the sheets. The mattress swallows me greedily. I should sleep, but my head won’t stop spinning.
Hesmiledat me.
Odin backs off, retreating to the chair that’s too far away. I pat my hand on the bed next to me. “Sleep next to me. I promise I won’t snore.”
“You, sweetheart, can’t promise a thing.”
My body feels like it’s been electrocuted when I hear that sentiment.Sweetheart.It curls around my stomach, squeezing the place inside of me that has been lonely and tired and broken for so long.
Oh, to be cherished.
It’s as sweet as I remember, and when Odin walks around the bed to the open space next to me, I think I might cry.
Maybe I still hate him, maybe this night and the way we are interacting will disappear from my mind as quickly as it blossomed, but it’s as clear as it can be in my drunken state that there’s an emotion that’s taking over, pushing all others out of the way.
Pure, unfiltered, immeasurablelust.
18
Odin
‘Cold Blooded Creatures’ - AlunaGeorge (Feat. Bryson Tiller)
Harriet twists herself on the bed so she’s facing me as I stand by the bedside table. She positions herself like a painting of Aphrodite resting on a linen cloud and she has no idea how much the sight of her in those thin pajamas is pushing me close to the edge.
Fucking hell.
Her body pressed against my chest, her sweet breath tickling my jaw, the way her fingers pressed into the skin of my face. Not an ounce of fear, or disgust, or even hate.
There’s a voice telling me to leave. To pack a bag and stay with Ford and Dom. This isn’t moving in the direction I thought it was going to go. She doesn’t seem to be the same person she was in Scotland who attacked me with a knife. She’s evolving, shedding the part of herself that was frightened and embracing her new role with vigor.
No, you idiot. She’s embracingyou.
She can’t possibly come to like me. She’s clearly had too much to drink. Though the way she openly stares me up and down like a lioness ready to mate is downright sinful. If we were any other people at any other time, we’d fuck like we were going to die in the morning.
“Are you coming to bed shirtless again?” she asks quietly, almost a purr.
I should shut her down. Ineedto shut this down. But when she looks at me like that. Like I’m something she wants to explore. Like I’m not a monster, but a man she could trust with her body, her pleasure. I want to give her what she wants.
Maybe I’m the one that’s had too much to drink.
“I don’t normally wear pants, either. Do you have a problem with that?” I ask and start to unbutton my damp shirt.
She gulps. “No, not at all.”
My fingers move with a purposeful slowness. In my periphery, I notice how her lips part slightly and her legs rub together. I know my body is appealing, but when she looks as though she’s desperate for me to hurry, I feel like a God. My own desire flickers to life. An intense heat that ignites some part of me that seems like it’s dormant for centuries.
The final button slips out, and I peel off my shirt slowly. Her startled inhale is so pure it sends a shiver skating down my arms.
