Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Effortlessly.
Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?
This has already gone too far, and now I’m thinking about magical kisses?
Time to pull back.
“So have you reconsidered?” I ask him.
“About sleeping with you?”
“What? That’s not what I meant. And for the record, that offer was never on the table.”
“Oh, you mean the other thing.”
“Yes… the other thing.”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
“This is a Kings of Mayhem club. I’m here on business.”
In the ethereal blue light, he looks almost angelic. But I know he’s more demonic than divine.
And it excites me.
Even though it shouldn’t.
“I can help you with a lot of things. Just not that.”
I picture his big hands roaming my body, and a wave of heat sweeps over me.
“I bet you could.”
His eyes flare, and the air crackles between us.
I get the feeling he doesn’t want to be here, but he can’t help himself. And that excites me further.
“You’re a good dancer,” he says. “Every man here couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
“Including you?”
His jaw works heavily. “Including me.”
He’s losing whatever battle he’s fighting in his head, and it’s a turn-on.
“I liked you watching me. Is that bad?”
“Yes,” he rasps.
My pulse picks up.
“Why?”
I lick my lips, and his gaze drops to them.
“Because you shouldn’t want that.”
“I shouldn’t want chocolate either, but I still do.”
His dark hooded eyes don’t blink. “I’m not as harmless as chocolate.”
I give him a wicked smile. “Neither am I.”
He opens his mouth but then shuts it again.
“Well, I should go shower.” I bite my lower lip, and a look of hunger crosses his face. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
His voice is thick. “I guess so.”
Our eyes remain locked, and neither of us moves.
But then Layla’s routine finishes, and the “Six Days” remix by DJ Shadow and Mos Def blasts into the club and breaks the spell.
I smile softly. “See you later, Thor.”
I walk away without a backward glance, but I can feel the heat of his scorching gaze heat my skin, and there is an enormous part of me that wants him to throw me over his shoulder and drag me into whatever dark and depraved cave he climbed out of and do unspeakable things to me.
Thankfully, I come to my senses back in the dressing room, where I shower and change into a pair of cut-off shorts and a tank top before pulling my hair into a ponytail. Gathering up my belongings, I pause to look at the photograph in my purse.
I won’t forget, I say, brushing my thumb over the crumpled picture.
Shoving it back inside my purse, I leave the club and exit through the back door and out to the car park.
But on the steps, I come to a halt.
Leaning up against his bike waiting for me is Ares.
He meets my gaze. “How about that coffee?”
We tumble through my apartment door, kissing fiercely as we tear at each other’s clothes, desperate to get naked.
I don’t know why this is happening.
It’s definitely not part of the plan.
We had been coming back here for coffee, but then he had stopped me on the stairs, spun me around, and kissed me until my knees were weak and my bones were liquid.
And well… here we are.
Like I said, not a part of the plan.
But his kiss is like catnip, and I can’t get enough of it.
Maybe I’m still turned on by the way he watched me dance.
Or maybe it’s because I can’t remember the last time I was touched, and I want something other than my battery-operated boyfriend to make me come, and I’m pretty sure this guy will do that well.
Once inside the door, he shrugs off his leather cut and lifts his T-shirt over his head, revealing the muscled body of a god. He’s so rock-hard and built like every woman’s fantasy, it sends fire into every erogenous zone in my body.
I stand rooted to the spot, absorbing the inked monster in front of me.
His abdomen is a patchwork of tight muscle and deep grooves that flex with each fluid movement. His skin is dark and smooth, his hair flowing past his shoulders, tattoos inked everywhere. I soak in his broad chest, the six-pack, and the way the sharp V of his obliques disappears beneath the waistband of the jeans hanging low on his hips.
My mouth is suddenly dry.
Fuck the coffee.
Our eyes lock, and all common sense leaves me.
I want this.
God, I want this.
I want this so bad nothing else in the world matters.
Shirtless and in nothing but jeans, he lifts me into his arms and takes me toward the bedroom. He sets me down, and his big hands remove my clothes slowly, piece by piece, his blazing eyes not leaving mine until I’m standing before him in nothing but a pair of lace panties.
A smile of appreciation touches his lips. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he rasps.