The Viking Queen's Men

by Holley Trent

  Holy mother.

  He cast his gaze to the ceiling and flitted through his mental Rolodex for the name of the appropriate god to call on. Certainly one of the numerous deities in the pantheon had in his or her domain the prevention of premature ejaculation.

  Her breasts were even more amazing in person than they had been in his dreams. They were round and heavy and would fit perfectly into his Paul Bunyan palms.

  “My nightshirt is under that pillow,” she said with a laugh.

  Mercifully, he turned to the headboard and lifted the pillow. He pulled the folded garment from beneath it and held it in front of him.

  She took it, still laughing. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

  “I didn’t expect you to be so uninhibited.”

  “And why does that bother you?”

  “It doesn’t. Just makes it more difficult for me to be a gentleman. I don’t want to overwhelm you, but when you’re in front of me like that… Well, you don’t want to know what’s going through my head.” Ollie pulled the pillow over his lap to hide the clues as to just what was going through his head. Or heads.

  Is it Thor?

  No, Thor wouldn’t give a damn about his dick. Thor would want him to thunder and rumble, which was the exact opposite of what Ollie needed.

  Fabric rustled behind him, and he turned to see her nightshirt skimmed her knees.

  Thank gods.

  She propped her hands on her hips and cocked her head to side. “Actually, I do want to know what’s going through your head. The big head, I mean.” Her grin was wolfish.

  Little minx…

  He grunted and tossed the pillow away. Standing, he pulled her against him so quickly she gasped. He held her tight so his erection ground against her belly.

  “The big head cautions patience, yet at the same time, expects that I’ll find the limit to my self control sooner than I’d like.”

  “What’ll happen if you lose your self control?”

  “Let’s just say that what’ll happen when I do won’t be sweet and gentle.”

  He expected her to flinch, but she didn’t. She didn’t recoil. She just took the whiskey bottle from him, uncapped it, and said, “Good.”

  Well, damn.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Tess let the whiskey burn down her throat and kept her gaze locked on the live wire seated in front of her.

  With him so close, and with Harvey gone, she recognized the crackle in the air that had been sending cascading tingles up and down her spine wasn’t merely her anxiety, but Ollie’s energy. He seemed to fill the room, not just with his stature—which she pegged at around six-eight—but with his personality.

  She’d been around a lot of Afótama during her crash course, but none had gotten under her skin like him.

  “Tell me something.” She set her glass on the nightstand and moved closer so her knees touched his shins.

  Immediately, he wrapped his hands around her legs and skimmed them up the backs of her thighs. “Anything.”

  She gasped, and pushed up onto her tiptoes.

  It was just a little, inconsequential touch, and yet her body registered it as a prelude to a main event. Some little voice in her head said she’d been made to respond to his touch, and that it was meant only for her.

  But, that couldn’t be true. That was just her ego piping up. Of course she didn’t want to think he’d touched some other woman with the same sort of familiarity, but she knew better than that. A man of thirty-eight would have had many women, and Tess couldn’t even hope to be the best amongst them—queen or not.

  She pressed his shoulders and forced her feet flat to the floor. “You said you wanted to take me home. Why wouldn’t you want to stay here?”

  “I don’t belong.”

  Rough fingertips skimmed the edges of her lace panties and set her toes to curling against the hardwood. Common sense said she should have pushed his hands away because she already had a mate, but nothing else within her wanted that. Her body liked his touch. Her heart had nothing to say about the matter. Her brain, and the crackle of voices that lived in it, asked What’s the harm?

  Something had to be seriously screwed up if her flight instinct wasn’t kicking in. Nothing was telling her to stop him. Nothing said she should make him leave. Nothing cared he was a usurper and could only want her for her perceived power and wealth. Those things that kept her out of harm’s way, more or less, for most of the past twenty-eight years had left the building.

  She didn’t understand anything, but her gut said that he was right.

  Slowly, he lifted her nightshirt at the front, exposing her thighs inch by inch, and then stopped with the hem just above her navel. He pressed hot lips against her belly, making her abs flutter and pussy clench. He kissed along the waistband and dragged his tongue along the edge.

  Her nipples peaked against her soft shirt, and she put her head back with a gasp, clawing at his shoulders.

  Her already disjointed thoughts scattered further, ripping her from the here and now to someplace she’d never seen.

  The desert stretched endlessly around her and the retreating sun was chased by the red and purple hues of dusk. It was quiet—barren except for a few scrubby bushes and cacti, and should have been altogether inhospitable.

  But, it wasn’t.

  She didn’t feel lost or frightened in the unidentifiable place. It felt like…home.

  Ollie’s home.

  And the voices went away.

  The vision pulled free as if on a cord being yanked from across the room, and her body moved as if to fetch it back, but Ollie held her firm.

  Tess opened her eyes and took a bracing breath to ground herself.

  What just happened?

  The static and the low roar in her head were both gone.

  Ollie’s head dipped farther, and he’d nudged down the front of her panties. His tongue probed enticingly at her mound, separating the slit and teasing her clit.

  She’d never been all that hung up on morality, but although what he was doing felt so right, she’d promised herself to someone else.

  She clamped her hands on his shoulders and brushed her thumbs over his collarbones. Huge, like everything seemed to be on him. “W-we should stop,” she said breathily.

  Sighing, he put his forehead against her thighs. “You’re right. We should. Me getting carried away like that is unforgivable.” He straightened up and turned that odd-hued gaze to her face. “I do have better manners, but I feel like I know you already.”

  She knew exactly what he meant. And it wasn’t the same kind of familiarity she felt to the others in the clan. Most of them were little more than generic faces in a crowd, but he stood out. If she were to stand on a pedestal, he should have been on it with her.

  But…not just him. The pedestal seemed big enough for three, and that was insane.

  He started pulling away and the roar seeped back into her head.

  “Ollie, wait.” She grabbed his forearms and held tight. As long as she was touching him, she could compartmentalize the activity. When he pulled away, it came back even worse than it was before, because suddenly, she was not only linked into the Afótama, but also to all the people in Ollie’s group whom Nan hadn’t been connected to.

  If her brain had possessed a dam, it would have broken upon his first touch.

  “Don’t pull away from me,” she said, and she rubbed her palms up his muscular forearms, drawing on his strength and control.

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong. I haven’t been at this long enough, but when I touch you, I—”

  Could she tell him? She trusted Harvey to know her secrets because he was her mate. He couldn’t hurt her, and he had the best interests of the Afótama at heart. She could tell him how she was struggling, and he’d be helpful, if he could be, and discreet.

  But she didn’t know Ollie that way. He wasn’t Afótama, and she didn’t know if “close enough” counted.
<
br />   “You don’t trust me,” he said.

  “How much of what I’m thinking can you hear?” It’d be a huge embarrassment if word got out that she was flawed in that way—that she couldn’t lock down her thoughts.

  “It’s not what I’m hearing, baby, but what I’m feeling. You’re closed down pretty tight, but I see the turmoil in your face and you’re clinging to me for dear life. You’re breaking my heart because I feel you’re scared, and you won’t tell me why so I can fix it.”

  “Fixing me isn’t your job.”

  “It is my job, and that’s why I came here. Fifteen hours on my bike, Contessa.”

  “You should have flown.” Lame comeback, and she knew it. She only had half her heart in the argument.

  “I’ve spent enough time in the air. I like staying close to earth now.”

  “You said you feel that I’m scared. How? We do thoughts more than feelings.”

  He fidgeted the heirloom ruby ring on her right hand and furrowed his brow. “I don’t know how much of this you’ve been told. Back when the groups split off, there was a definite delineation of skill sets. It was more common for the folks like you—descendants of Ótama and her kin—to hear. You were communicators. Politicians. People like me were more typical. Farmers and raiders. Our skills evolved a bit differently. We needed to be strong with excellent defense capabilities. We can’t connect over long distances the way you can, but we’re more sensitive to emotions.” He moved on to the ring on her other hand. The pearl was new, but the setting was ancient. “I can tell when people are lying, for instance, and when I’m being insulted. Skills like mine help us in battle because we know when to wait, and when to strike.”

  “But you didn’t like being told what to do.”

  He shook his head. “Still don’t. We lean more toward anarchy than monarchy, but do obey laws of the jurisdiction.”

  “Then why do you want me? I stand for everything you don’t like.”

  He chuckled. “You’re getting far off-topic. We were talking about what’s bothering you. I already told you why I’m here. The gods chose to favor me by pairing us up, and I’m not so stupid I’d ignore a fated match. Most folks don’t get a second chance.”

  “Second?”

  He dragged his tongue across his lips and fixed his gaze on her nightshirt’s buttons.

  Maybe he didn’t trust her.

  And maybe he shouldn’t.

  “Ollie?”

  “Yes?” He still didn’t look up at her.

  “You’d really fight for me? A stranger?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know the rules for this. Nan says it hasn’t happened in her lifetime.”

  “It doesn’t happen much of anywhere nowadays, not in any of the groups. No one’s willing to fight for that one great love. That’s what’s breaking us all down now. We get weaker with each generation. I know you think you’ve taken a mate. I believe you’re being honest about that, and being with him has plugged some of those psychic holes, just the way the joining is supposed to. But, something’s missing. He didn’t get all of them.” He pressed his palm over her thrashing heart. “You’re not full here. He left too much room, and that’s why I’m challenging.”

  “That’ll come in time. I’ve known him for a long time, but—”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Sure, you like him and respect him, probably. You’re attracted to him, maybe, but you don’t love him yet. All I ask is that you give me a chance. I won’t force anything or pick a fight with him unless he goads me. Let me prove to you that I’m worthy of your trust, and that I can be a helpmate to you. I’m a patient man, but if I think I’m being driven away, I will force a challenge. I know the gods are on my side, and that’s not something to be said lightly.”

  Tess swallowed and, speechless, stared at slight iridescence of her pearl.

  She’d been at home for two weeks and was already being forced to make major life decisions, and permanent ones at that. She may have been a flake, but even she believed that relationships weren’t things to be trifled with. Hearts weren’t meant to be trifled with.

  She rolled her gaze up to his and tried to find the lies in it, the deception. There was only eagerness there, and…wonderment.

  At me?

  She furrowed her brow.

  Harvey had something she needed as queen—his level head, his tenacity, his trustworthiness. He always made her feel safe, and that wasn’t anything to be discounted given her tumultuous childhood.

  But Ollie had something, too. He made her heart bloom, and it’d been broken for so long.

  “Fuck,” she whispered.

  “Is that a request?” He grinned.

  “I’m confused.”

  “I know, baby. I feel it. But, it’s okay. It’s a lot to take in. Like I said, I can be patient as long as I’m near you.”

  She nodded, and loosened her grip on his arms. “I’m sorry to be a party pooper, but I haven’t slept well in a couple of weeks. Can I just…hold your hand until I nod off?”

  “Such a simple thing, and you act like it’d be a chore for me.”

  “I promise I’m a lot more fun than what you’re seeing. I’ve been known to dance on bar tops when I’m in a certain mood.”

  “Yeah?” He turned down the covers for her.

  She scooted to the middle of the bed and reached for his hand.

  “My buddy Jeff owns a bar, and clean freak that he is, he’d probably still find that appalling.” He relaxed with his back against the headboard and crossed his legs at the ankles.

  Tess snuggled close to his side and gripped his hand for dear life, being fairly certain her clinging wouldn’t bother him.

  His presence felt to her like what long ago Vikings felt when they saw land after being at sea for so long. It was comforting and filled her with gratitude for finally being home.

  Her eyelids were heavy, but she wanted to savor the feel of him just a while longer. “Jeff. Is he…”

  “Like us? Yeah. His bar is called The Longship. He’s got it kitted out with all kinds of Viking kitsch, and all the locals think it’s charming, but all the folks in the gang are in on the joke.”

  “Gang?”

  “Well, no better word for it. We don’t gather formally like Afótama do, but we do hang out in small groups. Me and Jeff are in the same motorcycle crew.”

  “Are they all big like you?” The thought of that many giant men in leather…

  Fuck.

  Her thoughts had gone to a decidedly pornographic place, and since she’d slammed down the gate on sex she needed to think fluffier thoughts, and immediately, or his hand wouldn’t be the only thing she’d be holding.

  “Oh, most are average height. We tend to either be tall or stocky. Jeff’s taller than average, but he’s lanky. He makes up for his lack of bulk with attitude.”

  Tess rubbed her eyes with her free hand and giggled. “He’d get along swimmingly with my cousin.”

  “Remind me not to get on her bad side.”

  “Don’t worry, I will. I like you too much to throw you to the shark.”

  It shocked her to hear her own words out loud, but she meant it. Fuck, she liked him, and he hadn’t done anything but told the truth.

  Odd.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Unlock it.” Harvey shifted the weight of the breakfast tray to his other arm and nodded toward Tess’s suite doors.

  Nadia crossed her arms and laid her head to one side, staring at him. She held her full to bursting key ring in her hand and tapped it gently against her ribs.

  He didn’t need words, because everything she needed to say was in her expression. She may not have been the most gung ho lady-in-waiting, but he knew she took her job seriously because her grandmother’s wrath was a mighty thing.

  So was Tess’s, but no other Afótama besides Harvey had bore witness to that yet. It’d been a long time since he’d seen that side of her. Two years.

  “I’d like to state for
the record that what you’re doing is foolish, and you’re fucking with the queen’s prerogative,” Nadia said.

  “She’s my mate. We’ve been halfway bonded since we were kids.”

  “Whoopdie-fucking-do. That guy thinks she’s his mate, too, and maybe he’s right.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “I’m on my queen and cousin’s side, believe it or not. You don’t have any close relatives left, so you don’t know what it’s like tuning in to the turmoil in her head. Maybe she can block everyone else out, but she can’t block family if we really try to get in. We check in because that’s what family does, and up until last night, she was sinking under the weight of her gig. Now, her mind’s quiet. Her quiet makes me calm. I like calm. Don’t you?”

  “Tess’s wellbeing is my utmost concern. I want her to thrive here and reach her true potential. No one knows Tess like I do, or believes in her like I do.”

  “I hear you. I get you. I swear I do, but this situation requires delicacy. None of us know how to navigate it, and I suggest that you stay on the high road at all times. Do you get me?”

  Given that nasty snap to her voice, he’d be stupid if he didn’t at least pretend.

  “I do understand. Please open the door, or have you forgotten she skipped dinner last night?”

  She sighed. “And, of course, that’ll be my fault when Nan finds out.” She uncrossed her arms and flipped through the keys. “I hope they’re decent. I’m sure Mr. Gilisson is lovely to look at au naturale, but I’ve seen enough of Tess’s naked ass in two weeks to last me a lifetime. I do wish she’d keep up with her underwear.”

  Harvey growled, and Nadia growled right back as she pushed the key into the lock.

  “Remember what I said,” she said before pulling the handle.

  “I’ll try my hardest.”

  “Do better than that.”

  Nadia stepped into the dim room, and Harvey followed on her heels, pausing in the entryway just long enough to see that Paul Bunyan motherfucker was still mostly dressed, and on top of the covers.