by Kate Pearce
He remembered every single day of that spring, the long string of her firsts: Laney slowly peeling off her t-shirt in the barn, then crossing her arms against her chest; her sliding across the bench in his truck, straddling him, grinding her jean-clad pussy against his cock; getting completely naked in a hotel room after the Science Society Formal Ball, wanting to punch a hole in the wall after their only condom broke. Laney had made that night worthwhile anyway, sliding his cock between their bodies, holding herself open, rubbing against the length of him until they both shattered apart. They’d spent the night twisted up in each other, and when Laney wrapped her warm little hand around him in the shower the next morning, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He returned the pleasure before check out, and two weeks later when he moved into his first apartment, they had an entire box of condoms at the ready.
She lifted her head and he was torn between wanting her to see where he had wandered in his mind, and hoping she’d return to her original position so he could keep smelling her hair like a pervert. He didn’t dare think that she might be wandering around the same spots on memory lane, even when she pressed her forehead against his chin, then rubbed up his face until her lips connected with his jaw. Kyle stifled a groan and eased her legs down to the ground, freeing his arm to press between their bodies.
“Laney, sweetheart, that’s not a good idea.” It’s brilliant, asshole, shut up. He could barely grind out the words. His body was not on board with being noble.
“Probably not.” She pressed against his hand, flat against her upper chest, stretching her body to reconnect with his face, and the upper swell of her breast filled his palm. This time the groan was louder. “Tell me to stop.”
“We’re going to regret this.” Freud would have a field day with what was going in his head. Baser instincts were definitely gaining traction.
“Probably. Tell me to stop.” Her lips found the corner of his mouth, at an angle, and then her face turned again and they were sharing the barest of open mouth kisses, her bottom lip resting on his, pressing it down. Her eyes were wide, pupils dark and full of want. He didn’t see any hesitation, only heat, and his resolve slipped. One kiss. He let her breath slip into his mouth, hot and moist, and he was lost, disoriented in a mixed fog of memories and unfulfilled fantasies.
With a slight jerk, his extended arm relaxed, allowing Laney to crawl back on his lap, straddling his hips this time, and she looked down at his erection with a smirk. “I knew you didn’t want me to stop.”
“Wanting you to stop and knowing you should are two different things. Hell no, I don’t want you to stop.” He dragged a ragged breath into his chest and ran his hands down the sides of her body, squeezing her hips, tracing over her thighs and then up again, harder this time, sliding his palms under her sweater and over the thin cotton tank top hiding underneath. “But I don’t want you to hate me, either.”
“I’m not an innocent college kid anymore, Kyle.” She wiggled her hips, trying to slide closer to the bulge in his jeans. “I like sex. You make me think of sex. I’m all fired up from fighting. Let’s go.”
It should have been an ardour-dousing wakeup call, the casual offer of something that was once so special to her, to them. The higher-thinking part of his brain protested that something was wrong, that Laney couldn’t possibly want a booty call, but all Kyle could focus on was the easy confidence that she had gained, how she must have gained it, and his primal need to re-possess that which he had lost. He could hear raspy need in his voice and he didn’t care. “Now it’s your turn to tell me to stop, sweetheart.”
VIKING’S HEART
The Varangian Chronicles One
by
Loribelle Hunt
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
Welcome to Thor’s Hammer! Viking’s Heart is the first story in The Varangian Chronicles. If you enjoy this story, please join my mailing list to be the first to hear about the next book in The Varangian Chronicles series.
~ Loribelle
1
The compound had been buzzing with activity all day. Jolie peered out the window of her third floor apartment, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. She’d expect her father, Clark, to send for her if he was conducting some kind of business today. Or send word for her to remain in her rooms. He’d done neither. It made no sense and that made her nervous. Anxiety settled like a knot in her stomach. She had to find out what was going on.
She left the apartment and jogged down the three flights of stairs to the ground floor. Outside she stepped into the large space that usually served as a parking lot, gathering space, or playground to the kids who lived inside their walls. Today, it had been cleared of all the vehicles and bikes leaving it looking empty. It would feel abandoned if not for all the residents moving from building to building. Everyone looked like they had a purpose and no one she greeted would hold her gaze. The knot in her middle turned to rock. What the hell?
She crossed to the large building they called the hall. Basically it was a community center. The ground floor was mostly bar space and a large kitchen. The two upper floors were used as offices and additional storage when the warehouses were overfilled, which wasn’t often since the war with the Delroi had been settled. Apparently they frowned on smuggling, her father’s bread and butter. Thankfully they weren’t the only aliens who’d come to Earth, and the Varangians didn’t same to have the same issue. She caught the door as one of her father’s men exited. He threw her a startled look that quickly morphed into pity.
“He’s in the bar,” he muttered. “Good luck.”
Why did she need luck? This couldn’t be good. Inside she squinted until she spotted Clark sitting deep in the shadows of a corner booth. He motioned her over, indicated she should sit down. She did so reluctantly. Something was very wrong and she had a bad feeling it involved her, though she couldn’t get a read off of him.
“What’s going on?”
It was unusual but not unheard for him to keep her in the dark like this. In the last few years she’d become his second in command. Sort of. He shared more with her than anyone else but that wasn’t saying much. He’d always been reserved with her. Hell, with everyone. She was years past expecting affection from him. Still, this seemed...odd. Even for Clark Hall.
“Stone is coming to get you. You’re his problem now.”
Stone, the leader of the Varangians. Jolie stared at her father. She was too stunned to speak, and that was saying something, because the news he’d just dumped on her was completely outrageous--and illegal. Not that legalities had ever stopped him before. He didn’t seem the least bothered now, either. His tone and expression were just as cold as ever.
“Excuse me?” she finally managed to force between lips that were suddenly numb.
“I owe the Viking money. He’s demanding you in payment,” he said.
He didn’t even have the grace to look offended about it.
“Why?”
Her father shrugged. “I had to abandon a shipment last month. I’m sure you remember.”
Yeah she did, but that wasn’t what she meant.
“No, why does he want me?”
“I didn’t ask,” he snapped, his composure breaking for a moment. “But he made it clear he’ll kill us all if I don’t hand you over.”
“When?”
“Now,” he answered as she heard the roar of engines.
That was why the vehicles had been cleared. She walked over to the window, heart sinking as the Varangian shuttle circled to land. No time to escape. No time even to pack. Damn it. She turned to glare at the man who’d raised her. She didn’t know if he was her real father. He’d always said it didn’t matter. He’d barely known her mother, he claimed, but he knew she was a telepath and he kept Jolie with the hope she would be too. She could pick up thoughts and feelings if they were extreme sometimes, but it was the lesser of her extrasensory talents.
She looked around the hall.
The usual ghosts were there but none stepped forward to give her information. They wouldn’t have any about the aliens, of course. They were always there, her whole life. Some took real form and talked to her. They’d been her childhood friends. She knew some that they’d lost over the years. The others were just wisps of air. She got something from them every now and then. A hint of danger. Of warning. But now? Nothing from any of them. They were eerily silent and that made her pause.
Since the Delroi invaded a couple of years ago she’d lived in a state of expectation. Anticipation. She’d thought her life was going to change. Waited for it. Looked forward to it. But everything had just gone on as usual. Maybe this was the change she’d hoped for? She didn’t want to be in charge of a band of smugglers. She wanted a different life. A better life. Were the Varangians any better than her father and his crew?
He’d always said she was his most valuable asset. So why was he giving her away like she was nothing more than chattel? It wasn’t that she wanted to stay. He was a smuggler and a thug who kept her confined to the compound most of the time. She’d never entertained the thought he might love her. Always knew she was just another one of the people he thought he owned. He controlled every aspect of her life. She’d never been allowed to have friends outside the compound, dates, or go to school. He’d brought the best tutors money could buy. Once they’d finished teaching her something they usually left and she never saw them again.
Panic set in when the aliens entered the hall. She might have expected her life to change with the alien invasion, but not like this. She looked for a way out, a direction to run, but her father’s men blocked all the exits. She tried to avoid looking at them but it proved impossible. The leader was easy to spot. She’d glimpsed him from a distance a few times, though her father had always been careful to keep her away from him.
He fascinated her. The first time she saw him she went online and found everything she could about Vikings. There was plenty in Earth’s history but very little about the alien Varangians. They hadn’t denied being connected to Earth’s Vikings but hadn’t confirmed it either. There were no explanations. If she went away with them maybe she’d finally find out. Maybe she’d discover what it was that drew her to one in particular.
Stone swaggered in like he owned the place including everyone inside. Especially her. He wore leather pants and a leather vest that zipped to his sternum. His boots reached his knees and his shoulder blade length hair was pulled back at his nape. He was covered in tattoos, mostly animals, and had a short beard. He bristled with weapons. Blades, guns, and the alien laser stuff.
His eyes blazed hot as they swept over her. Commanding and possessive. Heat spread up her neck to her face in response to the carnal promise in his eyes. She no longer wondered why he wanted her. She ought to be frightened. Yeah she lived with a bunch of criminals and she could hold her own against any of them in a fight, but she had no experience with physical intimacy. Her father would have killed any man who dared touch her. Had in fact. Once had been all it took for his men to recognize that particular line in the sand. She felt a pang of wistfulness for the boy her father had killed. He’d been new to their group. Young and idealistic and not yet hardened by years of rough living. He’d died for one sweet, stolen kiss.
There’d been another death that night too, Marie, her best friend Verity’s mother. That had been a bigger blow. Verity and her little girl were outside the compound for a few days. Jolie wouldn’t get to say good bye. That regret mingled with anxiety and expectation. She was being given to Stone to settle a debt. She should hate that, but a part of her knew this was the escape she’d been waiting for.
Her father rose and walked over to join her. For a moment she thought he might reach out for her, maybe had changed his mind. One look at his eyes disabused her of that notion. There was a bitterness she’d never seen before. His voice was heavy with it when he spoke.
“Well, you’re getting what you wanted from the beginning. We square now?”
Stone spared a glance at her before turning an angry glare on her father.
“I’m simply taking back what you stole. You should have given her to me when I asked the first time. Then this wouldn’t be necessary. I could have just stolen her. At least this way you know her fate.”
Her father snorted. “Being a Viking’s whore?”
Whatever else he might have said was cut off as Stone grabbed him by the throat.
“Watch how you speak about my mate, Earthling. It is only for her sake I am leaving you alive,” he snarled.
Jolie started to edge away but that furious gaze swung her way, though it was tinged with amusement. “Thinking of running, darlin’? Go ahead. I’ll only chase you down.”
She froze, a different kind of nervousness tightening deep in her core. Blushing, she looked away, anywhere but at him. A dozen of her father’s men were ranged around the room, still and tense. The Viking’s were spread out behind Stone. There wasn’t a sign of any nerves in them. Oh no, they were calm. Confident and cocky. If they expected any trouble they obviously weren’t worried about it. And damned if she didn’t think that chase might be fun. Stone released her father abruptly, shoving him away and turning his back on him to face her.
“He explained nothing to you?” he asked softly.
“He said he owes you money and you’re taking me as payment.”
Even as she spoke the words she didn’t quite believe it. He nodded.
“Yes, but you are no whore. I’ll explain everything when we’re on the Hammer.”
“The what?”
He grinned. “Thor’s Hammer. My ship.”
Her fascination with him grew. She fought the urge to return his smile, but she still had no idea what fate had in store for her so she held back.
“Where are your bags?” he asked, looking around to large room.
She shook her head. “There was no time to pack.”
He glared at her father again, then held his hand out to her. “There is now. Come.”
She should refuse but it wasn’t the way she operated. She’d always found it easier to quietly agree and then work behind the scenes. What choice did she have? Reluctantly she extended her arm. Felt a jolt when he twined his fingers with hers. What the hell was that about? He stepped close, crowding her. Gently, he stroked the fingers of his free hand down the side of her face. His gaze burned as he held hers.
“Where is your room, darlin’?”
Damn. That old expression about going weak in the knees? Totally true.
“Across the parking lot,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear an invitation in her breathy response.
“Lead the way,” he said.
He stayed at her side on the short walk, his men hanging back. They stayed outside while she entered with Stone. In her apartment she looked around in dismay. A lifetime of memories. Surely she couldn’t take it all. The main room was a combination kitchen, eating area, and living room. She ignored it and went through to her bedroom. She didn’t know where to start.
“What can I bring?” she asked.
He cocked his head to one side. “Are you always so agreeable?”
The question surprised and confused her. “Would fighting this change anything? You expect me to do it anyway?”
He shrugged one shoulder. She wondered if her reply disappointed him. “I don’t expect a doormat.”
His words made her cringe. As far as her father was concerned, he was always in charge. Her influence had been subtle. It was better for everyone if he thought he was in control and what power she had came from him. She didn’t particularly want to run a smuggler’s band, but she’d been raised to do it. Always expected it would be hers when her father was gone.
“I guess you chose the wrong woman then,” she said bitterly.
“Or maybe you just haven’t come into your own yet,” he said softly.
She had no idea what to make of that response. She would have pursued it but he stepped towards her and cupp
ed her face in his hands. He held her gaze, serious, almost solemn.
“You are my mate, Jolie, not a possession.” One side of his mouth kicked up in a cocky grin. “Though I will admit to being a possessive man.”
She caught her breath at the implication, too aware of the bed just a couple of feet away. He just kept on surprising her. His expression sobered again, his gaze lingering on her mouth.
“How sheltered have you been, baby? Are you a virgin?”
Embarrassment flooded her at the bold question. She felt heat on her face, knew she was blushing furiously, and looked down. Using two fingers under her chin, he made her look up.
“That’s a yes?”
Her voice gone, she could only nod. A weird combination of fear and anticipation surged through her veins and she couldn’t help glancing at the bed. He groaned and shook his head.
“Not here. I will not rush and I’d rather have you at home, in our own bed.”
Oh god. The heat in his eyes. The promise in his voice. Where was her sense of self preservation now? Gone in a flood of desire, as unusual for her as it was intoxicating.
“Okay,” she answered, turning to the closet, suddenly eager to be doing something. Anything to distract her from the ache between her thighs.
She reached up to the top shelf and grabbed a bag, then began pulling clothes out and tossing them on the bed. She didn’t have a lot. A few pairs of jeans and leather pants, several tops. She grabbed her spare boots and shut the door. When she turned back, Stone had already folded most of her belongings and placed them inside. He added the boots as she turned to her dresser, but she paused before opening a drawer. It seemed silly under the circumstances, but she didn’t want him to peer into her underwear drawer. Ridiculous since he’d made it clear he’d be seeing it and more later.
“I’m almost done. Can you wait in the other room?”
