by Holley Trent
“Wise of him.”
“Well, I feel like that lost little kid right now who knows she’s weird, but can’t get a handle on how. I’m twenty years behind the curve. I don’t know how simple things work, and yet I can cause pain without trying.”
“You’ve got a find a pocket of serenity in your mind and cling to it.”
“You make that sound like a simple thing.”
“For me, it is. I’ve been doing it all my life, so I can’t tell you how to do it. It’d be like explaining how to draw in air. It’s something you do once, and then keep doing involuntarily. It becomes automatic. Like blinking.”
“I hope I find that serene place sooner rather than later.”
“You will.” He grasped her wrists again, and she let him pull them free of his waistband. He turned around, sighing, and cupped her chin. “You know, that’s another way you’re different from the women in Fallon.”
She felt her brow furrow. “In that I can’t control myself?”
“No, in that you don’t particularly relish hurting people.” His smile waned, and his already-sullen mood seemed to plummet even more.
No, no, no!
She needed him smiling again, and not just because he had the face of a god and the curve of his lips made her want to have very naughty things done to her. She needed him to smile, because his sadness made her feel cold inside. She couldn’t do anything else until he was content—she wouldn’t be warm again until he was happy.
Whatever had happened that would break a man like him, she didn’t want to fathom it.
“I don’t want you upset,” she said, and knew the words were inadequate as soon as they passed her lips, but she wasn’t good with words. Harvey had always been the one who was good with words. The only thing she’d been good at was running, and she was sick and tired of running.
Vikings didn’t run away from fights.
“It’s not your fault, baby.”
“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. When you’re sad, I want to fix it. That’s how it works right?”
“Should work that way, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that connection working the way the gods intended.”
“What can I do to make you happy?”
His eyes rolled toward the ceiling, and hands settled atop her shoulders. He kneaded them, skillfully rolling the tight knots with strong hands.
Moaning, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the blessed silence.
“You want to make me happy? Get on my bike and go back to Fallon with me.”
“You know I can’t. I belong in this place.”
“I know. I may be an outcast, but I wouldn’t try to upset that. Not now.” He pressed his thumbs to her temples and continued his massage there.
“Mmm. That feels nice.”
“I like that you let me touch you the way I want.”
“You haven’t been unreasonable. And you’ve been gentle. There’s nothing to complain about.”
“I know how much you value your personal space.”
“It’s hardly an intrusion when it’s invaded by people I adore.”
“Adore, huh?”
She opened her eyes and grinned at him. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You felt it the moment you walked into my suite. Hell, you could probably smell the lust on me. I wanted to climb you like a tree, even with everything that was going on in my head that night.”
“I assure you the feeling was mutual. When you turned up in my dreams, you’d tease me.” He let his hands fall to her shoulders, and down her arms. “There was this one dream I always hated. You’d undress me, and lay me down. You’d rub me with some kind of oil from my neck down to my toes and you’d just glide your nude body over me. Back and forth.”
He cupped her breasts through her shirt and pushed them together. He leaned his head to the side and looked at her with longing as if she wouldn’t let him take what he wanted.
“You’d sit on my legs, push your breasts together like this, and put my cock between them.”
“I did that?” Maybe it was time she expanded her repertoire.
“Mm-hmm.” He let go of her breasts only to pluck her aching nipples.
Moaning, she arched into him, and he grabbed her beneath the ass, picked her up, and set her on the desk’s edge.
“I always woke up hard enough to cut glass, and there wasn’t a single woman around I wanted touching me.”
“Sounds awful.”
“All your fault.” Pressing his hands to her knees, he parted her legs.
“I can’t find it in me to apologize.”
“So don’t.” He grabbed the fabric of her skirt and pulled it over her knees. Spreading her legs farther, he hissed. “Panties have a purpose.”
“Sometimes. Usually not. I figured you’d prefer easy access.” She reached for his belt buckle and paused to study it. Silver with a slight patina. It was a heavy rectangle engraved with a Viking longship. A fearsome dragon, mouth opened and tongue lashing out, stretched from the bow. “It’s pretty,” she said.
“It’s yours, then.”
“That’s kind of you, but it looks very old. You should keep it.”
“It is old,” he said. He unfastened it and pulled the belt free from his jeans. “All the more reason for you to have it. Anyone can go into a jewelry store and buy you baubles, but this means something.” He loosened the buckle from the leather strap and folded her fingers over the silver work of art. “Think of me every time you look at that.”
“I don’t need a belt buckle to remember to think about you. I think about you all the time.”
“Oh, yeah?” He unbuttoned his jeans and let the fly down slowly. His focused gaze on her warned last chance to back out, but she had no intentions of doing so. The first time they’d made love, they’d had an audience. This time, there were no distractions. Just them.
She curled her hand at the back of his head and pulled him down for a kiss. He sipped at her lips tentatively at first, but then she bit down hard on his bottom lip in warning. His mouth took hers more urgently, his tongue tangling with hers and delving into every corner of her mouth. His hands at her back were rough with their work-hardened skin, but nimble and sure as he freed her bra clasp.
He pulled back from their kiss and yanked her shirt over her head, immediately pressing her back to the desktop and pulling her ass to the edge.
His hot, hungry mouth latched onto her right breast and sucked the nipple into a hard peak while pulling the other between his fingers.
She moaned, and his free hand found her mouth. “Forgot you were a loud one. Going to have to figure out what to do about that short of gagging you.”
He moved his hand away, and his hips wriggled at her thighs. She looked down her body and watched his cock spring free from his boxers. Thor’s celestial hammer was nothing compared to the magic of Ollie’s dick.
He wrapped her legs around his waist and breached her in a continuous thrust. “You are so wet. So ready.”
“Always ready for you.” If only he’d take the hint, and take her when he wanted her. She didn’t understand his tentativeness. He was born of people used to being aggressive to get what they wanted. Wouldn’t his woman count?
After a few slow, rhythmless thrusts meant more to stretch her than pleasure himself, he increased his tempo and lifted her ass a couple of inches off the desktop. “Mmm. I believe this is the first time I’ve had sex outside of a bed.”
“You’ve…got to be kidding me,” she said huskily.
“Mmm. It’s true,” he said. He rolled his hips and the end of his cock knocked on her gateway to oblivion.
Already, her eyelids fluttered and toes curled. She was worse than a boy at puberty. She could probably get off just from thinking about sex long enough. It hadn’t always been that way, though. In fact, she’d only been afflicted with the condition for approximately three weeks—since Harvey had touched her.
He thrust again, and when she screamed, he set her ba
ck down on the desk and put that hand back over her mouth. “Shhh.”
“As if I can help it!”
“I’m flattered. Really.” His wolfish grin verified such. “Wrap your legs around my back and hold on tight.”
She did, and he pinned her wrists together over her head, covered her mouth with his mouth, and fucked her.
Theirs wasn’t a gentle reconnection or sensual bonding of mature lovers. It was desperate claiming. He didn’t just want her, but needed her, and her him, so she let him take what he had to.
The hard desk against her spine and tailbone didn’t matter. Her cramped shoulders didn’t matter. Her fear of her station didn’t matter, as long as he took what he needed.
“Tess…” he whispered against her lips as her body writhed beneath his. Her fingers splayed and curled over her head, but had nothing but the air to dig into.
His rhythm faltered, breath hitched.
Then, he filled her. His cock pulsed in her as he expended his seed, and she thought of the children they’d make. His. Harvey’s. Theirs.
Their future leaders, bringing the rest of the outcasts home to roost. Reuniting them to form the strong clan they should be.
He laid a tender kiss on her temple, and whispered, “I’m yours, Tess. Me. Only me. Do you hear me?”
She heard him.
She didn’t respond.
She couldn’t.
___
About ten days later, Tess climbed the net and threw herself over the side of Ótama’s ship. She sighed as she settled next to the woman at her usual place by the mast.
“How lovely,” Ótama said, pointing to Tess’s newly enhanced belt.
“It’s Ollie’s. Since I’m on the subject of him, he doesn’t get it, and I feel like being too candid will drive him away.”
“Perhaps caution will be best. Trust your instincts. I cannot divine the future, but I will say that to my knowledge, there has never been a queen whose mate rejected her.”
“Well, I don’t want to be the first, so slow and steady seems to be the way to go. I hope Ollie can deal with that. Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything. I cannot promise I will be able to answer.”
“I’m just wondering if there’s ever going to be a point where I’ll cope with all the mental chatter without having Ollie around. I know he’s supposed to be a helpmate for me, but logistically, how am I…” She tugged at her hair, groaning. “Fuck, I can’t even walk way from him for five minutes to brush my teeth without getting weighed down by all the demands on the web. On those nights when everyone decides to watch the news all at once and get depressed by what they see—I can hardly keep my heart in my chest for all the stress. But, I’m supposed to be the one honing in on it and filtering it all out! How can I?”
“It is your grandmother’s job to soothe the hurts, sweeting, not yours.”
“Huh?”
“I believe we have isolated one of your problems. I suspect you are doing as she did and acting as both conduit and filter. You cannot. You can sift out the rocks, but let all the sand pass through to her.”
Surprisingly, the metaphor made sense. She knew exactly what Ótama meant, but it was something she’d need to get into the swing of. Tess had learned to “do it” wrong, and now had to break the bad habits.
“I feel like I’m teaching myself as I go along, and am failing at it,” she said. “Nan’s not affected by the heaped-on emotional shit from the outsiders, so she can’t walk me through my job. What she would do doesn’t apply to me.”
Ótama pursed her lips and drummed her fingers atop her swollen belly. “I believe you are more like me than like Muriel. Your particular blend of powers will be difficult to learn and wield, especially without close guidance. I am certain that is not what you wish to hear.”
“You’re right. It’s not.”
“I am sorry. If I were there in the flesh, I would be so humble to be at your assistance.”
Tess laid her head on Ótama’s shoulder, and the ghost rubbed her hair.
“Stop choking what is coursing through you. You are afraid of it, and should be, but you must form a truce with it.”
A truce.
Tess sighed. She couldn’t even recognize her own personality amongst all the noise in her head anymore. That was what being queen meant, though—that she had to sacrifice who she was to be something more.
“Choose the people around you carefully until you have a better idea of what your limits are,” Ótama said. “They will be more forgiving of mishaps, and there will indeed be some. If you do feel out of control, I would suggest you try to ride out the power rather than tamping it down. That way you know where it begins and ends.”
Tess tensed, remembering. “I gave Jody a little zap a couple of weeks ago, but you’re saying I could…I could really harm people.”
Ótama didn’t answer immediately, and by the time she did, Tess figured she already knew the answer.
“Especially your men,” Ótama said. “It has…been a very long time since one of our men has had to put his mate’s power in check, Contessa.”
“In…check?”
Tess had grown familiar with the temperatures of emotions in recent weeks. When the web was happy, she felt warm. Excitement gave her hot flashes. Sadness had a coolness about it, but the stunning frigidness that permeated down to her bones could be nothing else but fear.
She didn’t want to know any more. She was scared to know more, but had to. She wasn’t a cowering queen.
“That’s why I have two mates, isn’t it? I’m going to hurt them, aren’t I?”
“I cannot see the future, but take this to heart. Do not try to hide your power from them. They need to know the taste of it, bitter as it may be.”
“Why?”
Ótama stared at the ocean, then looked to Tess with concern in her soft gaze. “Something’s is shifting. I cannot say what, but get ready, all the same.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Yoo hoo, Earth to Gilisson. Earth to Gilisson. Come in, Gilisson.” Jeff snapped his fingers repeatedly in front of Ollie’s face.
Ollie didn’t know how long the man had been trying to get his attention. He couldn’t help zoning out. Before he’d met Tess, his focus was the sharply honed instrument expected of a man descended from a line of fighters. But since being with her…
Jeff snapped again. “Yo! Someone could lop your head off in the time it’d take you to see them in the mirror walking up behind you and pulling the blade.”
“Sorry.” Ollie rolled his capped bottle of water beneath his palm and fixed his stare on the television mounted in the corner. The Diamondbacks were stinking up the stadium.
Big surprise.
“Wanna talk about it?” Jeff asked.
“Nothing to talk about. Me being here isn’t what you think.” In fact, he’d avoided Jeff for a week so he wouldn’t have to have this conversation. What could he say? He was well and truly pussy-whipped by a woman he’d known in the flesh for less than a month, and he didn’t even care. He’d do anything for Tess, even call her “queen.”
Fuck.
He’ rubbed his eyes. They’d spent a blissfully uninterrupted week getting to know each other, sans accompaniment.
Every time he entered a room, she lit up. No one had ever done that for him before. At first he thought she just needed him for his mental shield, but then he realized she only threw herself bodily at him half the time. The other half, she’d smile and wave, and turn her attention back to whatever it was she was concentrating on before he interrupted.
She was a woman of few pretenses. If she wanted something, she asked for it. “Ollie, I need your help.” “Ollie, could you hold me?” She was slightly subtler about sex, though. He could never tell if her aggressive cuddling was meant to be foreplay, not that he complained.
“So, when are you going back?” Jeff asked.
Ollie righted his water bottle and unscrewed the cap. “As soon as I can.
Being an adult means I’ve got to handle business properly. I’ve got bikes waiting to be fixed and the boys to take care of. Missed them when I was gone.” Lyman seemed to be out of the loop, and not really understanding where Ollie had been, but Matt had been nothing but cynical since Ollie got home.
Ollie couldn’t really blame him. His father had gone off to claim the hand of some woman whose sovereignty their lot didn’t accept. But, Matt didn’t know what it felt like to have someone handpicked for him and to not be happy until he knew that person was his.
“You got time to fix my bike?” Jeff asked.
Ollie shook his head. “Sorry, man. I’m going to have to take a rain check. Why don’t you just replace it? The cost of repairs at this point is higher than the value of the bike.”
“Come on, that was my daddy’s bike.”
Ollie gave him the long blink treatment.
Jeff sighed. “All right, the muffler came off Pop’s bike, but me and that muffler have been through thick and thin, you know?”
“Buy a new bike,” Ollie said slowly, putting extra emphasis on the word new.
Jeff mouthed fuck and swirled his rag over the bar top. He polished the polyurethaned surface meditatively for a moment, and his forehead furrowed with what appeared to be consternation.
“What happened now? Forgot to put in the alcohol order again?”
“This is just curiosity talking here, but pardon it ’cause I’ve never been great at recognizing folks from pictures. Does your queen ever go out unescorted?”
“She’s not supposed to, but no one can really stop her, especially since she doesn’t have formal guards right now.” Harvey had pulled them, and Ollie had kept his mouth shut. He would have done the same had he the authority.
“Oh, okay.” Jeff nodded and swirled his rag some more.
“For fuck’s sake, man, why?”
“Uh, I dunno. There’s a woman by the door wearing a belt buckle that looks like yours. There ain’t too many people rocking sterling silver longship buckles. Just sayin’.”
Ollie turned around on his stool and immediately caught sight of Tess and Nadia standing by the door. She must not have seen him yet, because they’d gotten swarmed the moment they walked in. He didn’t think it was because she was the Afótama queen. Common sense told him that it was because she and Nadia were two of very few women in a room of hard-up airmen and Viking-descended rogues.
