THOR (3 page)

Olivia

The morning sun beats down on my head and I wonder why I didn’t get up a little earlier to run. I’m four miles into a five-mile run with my friend and office manager Charlotte. I’ve known her since middle school. She’s kind and smart, and, most importantly, she believes in me. Not a lot of people do, but Charlotte does. When she looks at me, she doesn’t see a high-school dropout, even though she knew me back then. She just sees me, so I run with her every chance I get.

This morning she’s getting an earful.

“He doesn’t know that I know who he is,” I snarl.

We climb a hill. Everything is wet from the storm. The air feels like water. Sweat drenches me, pouring down my back.

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“I’m sure. Fucking fucker. Lying liar. I had a feeling last night. Something about his eyes. They’re grey and cold. He and his dipshit friend strolled into the Cabaret and he asked if I’d do some extra work on the side. Luke totally thinks I don’t remember. I remember. I’m telling you, I totally remember.”

Charlotte doesn’t say anything for a moment. She casts a few sidelong glances my way and I see a smile on her lips. “So you’re saying you remember?”

“He wanted to know if I’m a whore. Just because I worked at a strip club.”

“But you’re about to get a huge payout. Just think about that and forget about him.”

“I don’t close for another five days. That’s five days of being babysat by Luke. This morning, he wasn’t going to let me leave. He made me put a tracker app on my phone. He said if someone stole me, he’d know where to find me… whenever he got around to looking.”

We come to the five-mile mark, finally, and slow to a walk. A couple approaches, pushing a baby in a stroller. Walking single file, we let them pass.

“He talked about someone stealing me like it was amusing.”

“Have you gotten any more texts?”

“Not in a couple of days. Maybe whoever it is has given up and is stalking someone else.”

Charlotte doesn’t say anything. While we’ve worked together at the club, we’ve seen more than our share of crazy people, but this one feels scarier than the rest. Usually, they prey on the younger dancers and there have been times when I’ve had to hire extra security. I’ve never gotten text messages like this. I have no idea who it is and have no face to go with the threat.

“Tell my about day one of the cleanse,” she asks, in a clear attempt to change the subject.

I groan at the idea of this torturous diet I have planned. Like a dumbass, I told all my friends I’m doing it for ten days. Now, I have to follow through because everyone will be asking how it’s going. I don’t need to lose weight, or that’s what people tell me, but I wouldn’t mind if I lost a little if only for the bragging rights.

“Today I have to eat my weight in kale. That’s day one. Tomorrow, I eat my weight in kale, avocado
and
something else… a half a banana, I think. Somewhere in there, I get some egg whites.”

“Mm…that sounds-”

“Awful. I know.” I make a mental note to stop at the store and buy a couple of avocadoes. I’ll have to hide them from Luke.

Charlotte snorts. She doesn’t buy into all the diet craziness that makes the rounds. She eats whatever she wants and she’s got the curves.

“Don’t go crazy and have the
whole
banana or something,” she teases.

“I’m suffering diet remorse big time.”

We cross the parking lot and stop by our cars. Charlotte’s pretty face glows from the early morning run.

She smiles mischievously. “Want to know what I’m having for breakfast?”

“Don’t you dare tell me.”

Dieting is a form of bonding with women. The only person who tries more diets than I do is my mother. Right now, she’s doing macrobiotics. Before that, it was paleo. Growing up, most of my friends, Charlotte included, were too afraid to ever accept my dinner invitations. Working at the club only fueled my fascination with finding the perfect diet. The girls pooled their money to buy a scale that measures everything. I’m certain Charlotte never stepped foot on it.

“I’ve been blabbing all morning. What’s new with you, Charlotte?”

“Nothing, really. Trey called the other day and wanted to talk to you.”

“Trey?” I hadn’t heard his name in ages. He was the manager of The Cabaret when I started working there. He was always hitting on me, but he hit on all the girls. He was a pure sleaze bag and I was glad when he lost his job. Of course, I had a lot to do with that, when I put him in the hospital with a baseball bat.

“Yes. It sounds like he wants a job.”

“Like that’ll happen. I can’t stand that guy.”

“I know. If he calls when I’m there I’ll take care of it. I’ll tell him there are new owners and he’ll go away.”

“Ok. Thanks.”

She pulls out her keys. “Still on for Pilates tomorrow?”

I click open my car and wrinkle my nose. “I’m going to skip that. Between the diet I already hate, and the jerk that needs a smack down, I’m not feeling it.”

“You can always come stay with me if Luke is a jerk.”

“It’ll be fine. The house is huge, probably has its own zip code. It should be easy enough to avoid him.”

Charlotte shakes her head. “I’m a phone call away.”

I drive home and when I pull into the driveway, I push the button for the gate and admire the picturesque grounds. Howard has something like three houses, maybe four, and I wonder if they’re all this grand. So different from last night… in broad daylight, it looks almost inviting. I wonder what Mr. Charm is doing this morning. Probably thinking of ways to irritate or offend me.

I pull into the garage and stop the car. Maybe propositioning girls in strip clubs is something Luke does all the damned time. And now, I actually hate him a little more, that entitled little dickhead. He probably likes to toss out a few bills and have girls list off all the things they’ll do for him.

The thought makes me grip my steering wheel so hard my knuckles whiten. Women have to be at a certain point in their life if they agree to do private things for a man in exchange for money. It makes me a little sick to my stomach to think that Luke is the type of man who preys upon desperate women.

It’s hard to imagine him being like that, seeking out women in dire circumstances so he can take advantage. He’s tall, gorgeous, built like a brick house and with his sort of wealth, I’m certain he attracts women just by stepping into the room.

I get out of my car. Until this point, I had seriously considered packing up and going to stay with a girlfriend, but I’m rethinking all that. Maybe I do want to stick around this dickhead’s mansion and teach him a lesson, or ten.

I step inside and the smell of bacon hits me full-force. My mouth waters and I have to stifle a small moan. Bacon. Why did it have to be bacon?

He’s standing in front of the stainless steel range wearing nothing more than a pair of pajama bottoms. He has his back to me. His back is broad and rippling with muscle. My gaze starts at his neck where traps flare down to powerful shoulders. Muscles band across his torso. His tattoos mesmerize me. I stand, rooted to the floor, half-afraid to view him from the front.

When he turns, his mouth curves into a sexy grin. “I know you’re trying to eat healthy, so I’m putting some of that kale in with the bacon and onion.” He holds up an empty kale bag, crumpled into a ball, and with a flick of his wrist, it arcs through the air and lands in the trash.

The bacon sizzles and my stomach rumbles its approval. Pulled by some invisible force, I cross the kitchen to the stove. The kale is bright green, glazed with bacon fat and wilting beautifully amidst the crisp, chopped bacon. Diced onions caramelize and release an aroma that makes me a little dizzy. I didn’t eat before I went running and forgot my water bottle. Now I’m feeling a little off.

I turn to face him, not sure if I want to thank him or tear into him. My gaze is captured by the sight of his chest, and unable to resist, I drop my eyes to look at his abs. They… don’t disappoint.

“See something you like?”

His voice is a sexy rumble that sends a shimmer of sweet torment across my senses. I fight the arousal. Standing so close to him is a giant mistake because the man smells amazing and I’m not talking about bacon. I’m talking about some hyper-masculine smell that makes me want to stand on my tip-toes, press my face to his neck and inhale.

The scent doesn’t come from cologne, just him, and it’s devastating.

I’ve never felt a surge of attraction like this before. I’m notorious for being the ice princess. Warning bells clang in my head.

His smirk fades just a little, enough to make me wonder if he feels something, too. In the morning light, his eyes aren’t grey anymore. They’re the color of blue suede. He holds my gaze and I see a flicker of what… interest?

The feeling of light-headedness grows and I sway a little.

“Okay?” His voice is gentle and now I see unmistakable concern in his eyes.

I start to say that I’m fine, but the words die in my throat. Dark spots fill my vision. My knees buckle and I pitch forward. The last thing I hear is Luke saying my name and I feel his hands around my waist.

Luke

Olivia has starred in every fantasy I’ve had since I first laid eyes on her. She fucked with my thoughts every mile of the entire Pacific Highway and I’ll admit I didn’t handle it well. I imagined she’d lured me, enticed me like some sort of siren because that’s what girls like her do.

Lure men.

All that goes away the instant she falls into my arms. The fucked up, savage things I thought about her vanish when she faints. She’s out for about three seconds and then she’s muttering and telling me to put her down.

There’s no way I’m letting her go. The feel of her in my arms derails my thoughts because even though it’s the first time I’ve touched her, she feels both familiar and so right. She’s growling at me but her body fits perfectly. A few moments ago, I might have entertained fucking her hard and fast, Now, I imagine what it would be like to make love to her for half the night.

I should take her up to her own bedroom, but the last time I was there, I was distracted by piles of lacy underwear. I shouldn’t go back. That’s what I tell myself as I mount the last steps and turn down the hallway towards my room.

I force myself not to stare at her, but her pretty face draws my attention. Her lips are parted and she looks innocent, even though I’m sure she knows more about sex and sin than me and all my buddies put together.

When I get to my room I lay her down on the bed, take off her sneakers and admire her feet. They’re small, with a graceful arch and toes painted cherry red. I’m struck by the color. I shake my head in an attempt to think straight. I never had a foot fetish before, but I’d never seen Olivia’s feet. But, it’s not just her feet. It’s her legs, slim and strong, the flare of her hips and her gorgeous tits. It’s not a foot fetish, it’s an Olivia fetish.

I want to stare at her and drink my fill. I want to lean down to nuzzle her neck. She just went for a run so she’s not wearing makeup, just a t-shirt and shorts. Her honey-colored hair is done into two braids, making her look younger than her twenty-two years.

Her lids flutter and she scowls at me. “Leave me alone.”

I leave her and return to the kitchen, turn off the stove and pour her a glass of juice. By the time I get back, she’s stirring. I sit on the edge of the bed. Her eyes widen.

“You fainted.” I put my arm around her shoulders and help her up to a sitting position.

Her hands tremble as she accepts the juice from me. She takes a sip and hands it back.

“I remember that night at the club, Luke. You offered me money to do nasty things.”

With that accusation shot in the air, my lust returns full force. Electricity crackles between us and I want to push her back to the pillows and kiss her hard. I want to taste her lips and mark her pale skin. This woman makes my iron self-control melt like butter in a pan. My thoughts whip-saw between lust and tenderness.

“I was just testing the waters,” I reply. My voice is rough and her eyes flare. She should be worried. “I liked what I saw and I wanted your attention. I’m sure all men do.”

“That’s not who I am,” she whispers.

I shrug a shoulder. “I don’t care.”

Her eyes darken and tell me that was the wrong answer.

“I’m sweaty and gross,” she says. “I shouldn’t be in your bed.”

“You smell sweet. Like flowers.” Lame, but better than saying I don’t care.

She rolls her eyes and tries to push me out of the way so she can get up.

I put a hand on her shoulder. “You just fainted. You need to go slow.”

She shakes her head. “I need to get out of your bed, and shower.”

“No shower till you’ve eaten.”

“Mind your own business.”

She’s full of sass and I want to push her back to my pillows and taste that smart mouth. Not a good play, but my self-control slips when I get close to her. I remind myself this is what Olivia does for a living, make men weak, and I’m determined not to be one of her fawning admirers.

“All those years in the military, you think you’re everyone’s commanding officer,” she snaps.

“You need a boss.” A look of fury comes over her face. I shrug. “I could help you with your shower, but you’d probably expect me to give you a tip. Tuck a twenty under your towel when you’re finished?”

She slaps my shoulder and it actually has a little zing to it. I guess she thinks I might smack her back, because she scrambles off the other side of the bed and pops up to her feet. Getting mad has made her a little steadier. Her color is returning. She glares and bolts from my room. I follow. I don’t want the girl to fall on the steps or something.

“Why did you faint?” I ask.

“Don’t worry about it. Remember? You don’t care.”

Walking behind her offers me a great view of her ass as she hustles downstairs. Olivia definitely has a money-maker and she likes to keep herself in shape. That part of her I can respect. I have to keep in shape, too. Working out hard keeps me lean and helps me work off my aggression. I flex my hands and curl them into fists. I’m definitely going to need a run today.

She holds the railing as she descends, and for an instant I worry she might really fall.

I jog to her side, in case she stumbles. “Olivia, tell me why you fainted.”

She stops at the bottom of the steps. “I was just a little light-headed. Usually, I run two and a half miles and today I did five. I was trying to burn off those nachos.”

“Maybe I need to run with you from now on.”

Her mouth opens and snaps shut again, like she wants to tell me something. There’s an expression of vulnerability about her and it sends a jolt of some unwelcome emotion through me.

“I never took off my clothes for money, Luke. I always wore something on bottom and on top. I took that job because it paid me more money than I’d ever seen. I was able to live on my own without help from my mom or grandparents.”

I scoff at her words. “Why did you end up buying the place?”

“My grandparents didn’t like me working there, but I told them I could make a lot of money running it and then selling it. I’d sat down with a friend, did some numbers, and thought I’d take a chance. My grandma convinced my grandfather to lend me enough to buy it.”

“That’s great, Olivia. What’s next? Adult sex toys? On-line porn?”

She narrows her eyes. “Asshole.”

“Tart.”

I wonder if I’ve gone too far with that one, but her anger drains from her expression and she smiles. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile and it is pretty fucking radiant.

“I was going to go to a friend’s house till I can get an apartment, but I think I’ll stick around. It might be more fun staying here with you.”

“You go to a friend’s house and she’ll have to take me in. Even if it’s a guy.”

She lets out a small, feminine growl. “I promised Howard I’d stay and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Even if his son is a douche bag.”

She turns and strolls to the kitchen and I swear she’s got a little more wriggle in her step. My hand itches to smack the curve of that ass. She goes to the stove and turns on the flame under the pan. It crackles to life and starts sizzling as she gets the eggs from the fridge.

Cracking an egg into the pan she gives me a coy look.

“Hope there’s enough for you.”

“Funny girl. You better put in the rest of those eggs or there’ll be trouble.”

She adds the other half-dozen and scrambles the mixture.

“I have a buddy coming in a few days, a guy I served with named Nate. In the trenches we called him Tank. He’ll be staying here, too.” I’m baiting her. She won’t want to be the only girl living with two beastly ex-marines, but… oh, well.

“Tank, huh? How’d he get that name? Did he run out of gas or something?”

“No, he was as wide as he was tall. He was only five foot ten but he had to turn sideways to get through most doorways.”

“How about you… did you have a nickname?”

“They called me Thor.”

“As in,
ouchie, that hurt… tomorrow I’ll be thor
.” She giggled at her own joke.

“No, as in Thor, the god of thunder and lightning… and fertility.”

“Whatever. So tell me, is Tank at least a
good-looking
Marine?”

She’s trying to imply that I’m not good-looking. Is Nate good-looking? Not something I think about. I know Nate gets any girl he sets his eyes on, so I guess he’s all right. He doesn’t know Olivia’s staying at the house so I will explain to him that Olivia’s off limits.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend, or several boyfriends?” I ask. “Old guys who buy you furs and diamonds?”

She waves her hand dismissively. “Oh sure, but a girl can never have too many boyfriends, or furs or diamonds.”

Handing me a plate she arches her brow, the curl of her lip telling me she’s not taking my shit. Is she forgetting that ten minutes ago she lay unconscious in my arms? I take the plate and follow her to the table.

I sit down across from her. “Is that what you do? Collect boyfriends?”

“Do you collect girlfriends?”

I take a few bites of food. Kale with eggs. What a strange combination, but I guess it’s true that everything’s better with bacon. I’m ravenous despite the way this girl gets under my skin.

“I do
not
collect girlfriends.”

It’s true. I had a few girlfriends in college, nothing serious, but lately I’ve gone through life with blinders on. Without the distraction of a woman, I’ve graduated from college and served my country, both of which I’ve done with honors. A one-night stand here and there is the most action I’ve seen in a long time. I don’t care for the look women get when they find out who I am. The excursion to Alaska was supposed to be an escape in more ways than one, but meeting Olivia fucked that up.

She doesn’t reply. I’m sure I’ve pissed her off sufficiently that she’ll give me a cold shoulder. Perfect. I either need her hissing at me or moaning under me.

“I want to buy a house, but first I’m going to take a trip.”

Well that
is
interesting. I wouldn’t have thought a girl like her would want to travel. On the other hand, she has an air of sophistication about her, one I didn’t expect for a girl who dropped out of high school and got her GED.

“Where are you going?”

“The Northwest. I want to stay in a lighthouse. I think it would be fun.”

“You meeting someone?”

She gives me a coy look. “Maybe.”

What do I care if Olivia goes chasing bucket lists? She’s probably going so she can blow some fucker she met online. That’s what I tell myself so I can feel better. But it doesn’t work, it just makes me angrier, and more heated.