by Tigris Eden
Ladies, have you ever been so possessed by a kiss, that you forget your own name? I can’t form a single coherent thought. My mind is completely wiped clean of all the reasons I want to be mad at him. All my original complaints seem so trivial. His kiss is better than the one delivered by Ryan Gosling to Rachel McAdams in The Notebook. Let’s face it, we all want a man to deliver that kind of kiss and more. Klaus knocks it out of the fucking ballpark and into the next stratosphere. His jeans sit low on his hips, and I can feel the heated skin just above his waistline. My hands suddenly have a mind of their own. Somehow, I end up standing. Really, it’s truly a miracle how I even managed to not fall down because my hands go up his sides, taking his shirt with me, and we separate for a second. Long enough for me to remove the offending material. I freeze.
Yes.
Freeze.
His body is, well, it is… A fucking work of art. There are scars, there is ink, and there is muscle stacked on muscle. Deep shadows contour the features of his overly defined abs. I have to admit, I’m no shrinking violet. I’m in good fucking shape. But he puts my body to shame. I inwardly groan because I started this. Wait, no, he did. I just took it a step further. But before I can attempt to blame my actions on my out of practice libido, Klaus has my back to his front and is pinning me to the counter in front of us. His arm bands diagonally around my stomach and chest as his other hand wraps around my throat.
Kinky.
His lips kiss my shoulder, neck, and the underside of my jaw, as the hand around my throat positions my head the way he wants. His hands are multi-talented; one controls the movement of my head, giving him better access to my neck. The other hand has a firm hold on my waist and guides my ass into his erection. The entire time this is happening, I feel as if I’m going to die because there’s not enough air circulating in my lungs. I can’t seem to catch my breath fast enough. Let’s put this encounter on pause for a second and let me explain a few things. First off, I’ve not properly gotten off with a man in a very long time. Second, and let’s be honest here, taking matters into your own hands only goes so far, which leads me to my third point. I’ve only read about shit like this in books. You know, where the female can orgasm just from a man’s touch alone. Up until this very moment in time, I didn’t realize it was a possible reality and not just fantasy. Because holy shit, Batman, I just went off like a rocket. Yes, I was coaxed into the most intense orgasm of my entire life. Klaus is a god among men, and I haven’t dated very many men to even make that kind of call, but who gives a fuck.
“Oh, God!” I cry out.
“Klaus,” he grunts.
My mind is too clouded to understand what the hell he’s talking about. My body shudders uncontrollably, and whatever strength I had in my legs is gone. Completely gone. I try to compose myself as my body goes limp. The arm across my body gets tighter, and I hear his voice in my ear.
“Next time you come, you scream my name, gorgeous.”
There’s going to be a next time?
Oh goody.
There is no appropriate etiquette for how to properly behave when a man, or should I say god, kisses you so thoroughly and touches you so completely that your body ceases to function properly. I know I keep referring to him as Thor’s older half-brother, but I don’t know how else to give a proper comparison. Klaus is dark and unforgiving in his touches. I feel things because of him; things I don’t normally feel, and I don’t know how to hide it. I can’t keep my composure around him, and when he turns me to face him, I know he can see the naked truth written all over my face.
I am in the sweetest hell because there is a one hundred percent probability that I’m falling for my dead best friend’s widower.
Amelia, how could you leave this beautiful man?
This gorgeous man is broken. Scarred. And yet so perfect.
As I look up at him, I can see it in his eyes. He’s hesitant with me, which leads me to believe that what I’ve just experienced with him isn’t even the icing on the cake. I’m in so much trouble.
His fingers go to my chin, and he lifts my face up to receive his kiss. I still have to stand on my toes to even reach his mouth properly. I want to say Klaus is selfish for not meeting me halfway, but something tells me he’s not selfish at all. Something tells me this is a test. A test brought to you by the emergency broadcast system of Nicklaus. Maybe he wants to see if I’m willing to take this to the next level.
Am I even ready for some next-level shit?
My body screams. Yes, yes you are!
He’s not wearing a shirt.
I’m still fully clothed.
The erection in his pants is digging into my stomach now. This kiss is sweeter. Slower. His lips move over mine gently, feather-soft. The stroke of his tongue is lazy and warm. The flavor of his kiss is bold and is the perfect combination of sweet and spicy. My entire body starts to hum. He’s building me up again, ready to set me on fire. When the kiss finally ends, every single cell in my body is alive and firing on all cylinders. Jada’s log, sexdate 1591.1 My position, orbiting somewhere between dazed and confused.
Shit. I’m getting nervous. I’m quoting Star Trek.
Our eyes lock in an intense stare. My breathing kicks up a notch, and I’m kind of worried that he’s remained too calm through this entire ordeal.
“Klaus?” I whisper. “Say something.”
He doesn’t.
He just stares at me. His eyes roam over my face. His fingers remain at my chin, then lower, and finally, he takes a step back.
“Fuck,” he whispers harshly. “I’m ruining this.”
What? No!
“How?”
“I said I wanted to take this slow.”
He turns, picks his shirt up off the counter, and quickly tosses it back on. To say I’m speechless is an understatement.
I’m way beyond pissed. Or so stimulated rather, I’m about two seconds from throwing a fit.
“Are you serious right now?”
He has to be because no guy in the history of guydom would ever turn down free ass. Like ever. My heart is now beating erratically for an entirely different reason.
“Jada, I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
“Carried away?”
I walk over to the fridge and pull out a bottle of water. My body is still on fire. “Carried away?” I ask incredulously. “How the fuck did I even let myself get involved with you!” I screech. Yes, screech. Like a woman possessed.
Rules.
I have plenty of rules, and I break them all the damn time. But this one. I should have never even considered it. He’s my dead best friend’s widower for fuck sake. If that’s not a major screw up, I don’t know what is.
“I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“Oh, you won’t be seeing me at all, pal,” I toss out. “You’re going to leave. You’re going to get and not come back.”
“I can’t do that, Jada.”
“Why the hell not, Nicklaus?”
“Because I’m falling for you.”
Falling for me?
“That’s funny. Men who are falling”—I totally air quote that shit—“for someone don’t come over in the middle of the night, give a woman the best orgasm she’s had in like forever—if at all ever—and then decide they’re moving too fast. Oh, no, men who are ‘falling,’ finish the fucking job by falling into bed with said woman they are in fact, ‘falling’ for,” I huff out.
“Jada, let me explain.”
“You can’t. There’s nothing to say.” I throw my hands up, and as I walk to the trashcan to toss my still full bottle of water out, I say, “Zeus, strike me down with a thunderbolt and put me out of my misery.”
There is a grin on Klaus’s face. A grin. Why does he think this shit is funny? I don’t. His long strides eat up the distance between us, and I’m back in his arms.
“Gorgeous girl. All I’m saying is, I don’t want to fuck this up. You’re getting bent out of shape for nothing.”
That fucking
accented voice.
It soothes me.
How is it that one minute he can say something that throws me off the deep end, and the next, I’m putty in his hands. Sneaky bastard. My head goes to his chest, and I can hear the crashing of his heart as it plays in my ears. Mine is the same way. He chuckles, and I can feel the vibration in my entire body.
“Amelia told me it would be easy for me to love you,” he says against my hair.
“Love me?” I whisper.
“Yeah.”
He lifts my head to look up at him.
“I was probably half in love with you a little already. She said you were different. That you weren’t like any of her other friends. She talked about how caring you were, and how bent out of shape you would get if things didn’t go your way. She also said that when you start to ask Zeus, or any of the other gods of lore for help, that I needed to stop whatever it was I was doing and bring you down from your ledge.”
Sounds like Amelia. She always thought I was on the verge of breaking when I asked the gods for help. But I’m not. It’s just my coping mechanism. It’s a way for me to not overreact.
“I’m not on a ledge. Amelia always thought that, but it isn’t the case.”
“Really? You weren’t about to cut me into a million pieces and bury me in your backyard?”
I snort.
“No, but now that you mention it…it sounds like a grand idea.”
He chuckles again.
“I’m sure it does, sunshine. But let’s save that for another time.”
Before we can finish our conversation, his phone rings. Klaus doesn’t let me go but reaches into his pocket to pull out his cell.
“Klaus.”
I can’t hear who’s on the other end, but his arm squeezes me tighter as he listens.
“Yeah, I can be back in about half an hour. Just let me finish wrapping things up with my girl.”
My girl. He called me “his girl.”
And just like that, him stopping things feels like the right thing to do. For now, my mind whispers. My body is still upset, but really, should I even be? I had an intense orgasm through stimulation. I know once we get down to the business of breaking in the bed, it’s going to be awesome. Be sure when you say “awesome” you have that high-pitched ohm at the end.
“You have to go,” I groan.
“Yeah, truck just came in for the night, and the engine is smoking. I’m the only mechanic qualified for engine repairs.” Klaus kisses the side of my head. “I’ll be back the moment I’m done. You’re working tomorrow and then you’re off for the weekend?”
“Yeah.”
“All right, make dinner for us.”
“You don’t have that kind of pull, mister,” I joke.
“Yeah, I do.” He kisses me quickly on the lips and leaves.
What a crazy fucking night.
Chapter 8
I couldn’t sleep most of last night. My body wouldn’t let me. It had the kitchen scene between Klaus and me on repeat. I could feel him everywhere. Even places he hadn’t yet been or discovered.
When I finally get out of bed, Dali is already waiting for me in the kitchen. I feed her and let her out the back door. Poe is up on the bookcase, surveying all he declares his. But he quickly comes down when he hears me pouring his food.
I need tea. STAT.
I go through my regular routine. I play with Dali and rub Poe’s belly. Then shower, dress, and head out the door for work. I see Thomas on my way out, give him a friendly wave, and tell him I am having company for dinner. He waves me off as he sits on his porch and sips his coffee.
I had a lot of time last night to think about everything that took place. The club, the diner, my kitchen. I am hurt by the incident with Caroline, and seriously, I’m shocked she hasn’t tried to call me to make amends. But it’s only day one, I just need to give her some time. Hell, I need time. I haven’t really processed that she slept with Jaden, even after knowing how abusive he was towards me. Not to mention crazy.
Dali and I arrive at work and get straight down to training. The dogs in S.E.E.K. are always training. Today, we’re working on bomb detection. Dali is a chocolate Lab retriever. She’s smart, and graduated at the top of her class. Life without Dali would be boring. That she’s my protector, comforter, and all around good listener rolled into one is a bonus. As we run through the drills, my mind keeps drifting back to Klaus. As if sensing my distraction, Dali nudges me with her head and starts making her way through the demo field. She’s leash-free and basically does her own thing. As her handler, I’m just there to call out the commands or wait for the sign she gives when she’s found something.
Head in the game.
I have to stop thinking about Klaus.
The barking snaps me out of my daze, and I make my way over to Dali. She’s found her target.
“Good girl.”
We run through several more drills before lunch. Not too long after that, it’s some free time for Dali while I catch up on paperwork before we head home. When I pull up into the drive, I notice Thomas is gone. He must still be hanging out with his cousin. I park the car, grab the groceries, and go about setting things up for dinner while Dali and Poe chill in the backyard.
Klaus never said what time he’d be over, and I didn’t think to ask. I assume dinner will be around six-thirtyish, seven. But who knows. Being that he works at Dallas Fire and Rescue, there is no telling what time he’ll be done. I know today was supposed to be his off day, but one of the trucks had engine trouble. I’m not a mechanic per se. I can do a lot of things most people wouldn’t think would interest me, but getting under the hood of a car is sexy to me, and I play around with my own vehicle.
I decide to make stuffed chicken parmesan with a light marinara sauce and a Greek salad for dinner. For dessert, I stop off at Skye’s place to pick up a batch of cupcakes. She is all too excited I’m cooking for Klaus. We chat for about ten minutes before it’s time for me to head home to start cooking dinner.
Everything is ready to go, and my dinner turns out perfectly. I even have enough time to shower and toss on a pair of jeans and a tank top. I’m pulling down the plates when I hear a knock at my door. Smiling, I walk out of my kitchen and into the hall to answer it.
Klaus is standing in a one-piece mechanic getup. The top half is down and hanging off his waist, and there is grease everywhere—face, arms, and on his clothes. Correction, he is not Thor’s half-brother. Nope. Not even close. I had it wrong this entire time. Did you ever see Pathfinder with Karl Urban? No? Then you’d better go and watch that movie. It has it all, including a dark-haired Viking with a body made for sin. Yes, yes, and hell yes, he looks like Ghost from Pathfinder, only his hair is up in a messy bun, and his eyes are that fathomless blue with hints of gunmetal grey. He has about three days’ worth of scruff on his face, and all that damn grease coating his body highlights all his best features.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
Oh, and the voice, I still can’t place the accent, but I’m putting my bet on Scandinavian. He has to be cut from Viking cloth. Tonight, we’re going to play twenty questions and more.
“Hey, yourself.”
“I’d pull you into a hug, but as you can see, I came straight from work.”
That’s when I notice the overnight bag at his feet.
“You plan on moving in?”
He looks down at the bag.
“No, but I plan to use your shower and change. If that’s okay with you.”
I nod and let him in, directing him to my guest bathroom.
“Should I be worried about this?” He nods his head in the direction of my bathroom. It’s the one decorated in a Nightmare before Christmas theme.
“I don’t know, should you?”
He looks my way before grinning.
“You’re a nut. But I like it.”
You’re sexier than hell, and I love it.
“See you when you get out of the shower.”
“Unless you
want to join me?” he taunts.
I know he’s joking, but I have to remind myself we’re taking things slow.
“You couldn’t handle what I have to give in the shower. Remember, slow,” I say as I close the door and make a quick exit back to the kitchen. The Viking god in my bathroom is going to be the death of me, and I really hope that before the night is through, he lives up to his ancestor’s ways. A girl can always hope for a little midnight marauding.
I’m in the kitchen serving up our plates when Klaus walks in, freshly showered. It’s kind of funny because he smells like margaritas. He used my scrub. I grin, and he shakes his head at me, ‘cause he knows. He knows he smells like a fruity drink.
“All your soap smells like girly shit.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a girl, and I live here,” I laugh.
He looks around the kitchen and changes the subject.
“Smells amazing in here.”
I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. I like that he gives compliments freely.
“Great, sit. We’re gonna eat, drink, be merry and—”
“Fuck,” he interrupts. “We’re gonna eat, drink, be merry, and fuck.”
I clear my throat. It’s the first time he’s voiced that particular thought.”
“What happen to slow, Klaus?”
He grins.
“Oh, I can fuck you slow, Jada. I can fuck you slow real good.”
My eyes, if they could, would have rolled all the way back in my head and remained there. This side of Klaus is surprising. He’s always been forward, but physically, not verbally. I’m not sure exactly how I feel about this new turn of events. I walk our plates over to the table, and for the next couple of hours we do eat, drink, and talk. When I look up, it’s almost one in the morning, and we’ve polished off two bottles of wine and all of the dessert. We’ve talked for so long, I practically know everything about him, or at least I think I do. He’s from a large family, all of which are still in Iceland, five hours away from Reykjavik. He’s a freaking Icelander! I knew it! Scored me a Viking. His last name is Aegir. It has something to do with the sea and Norse mythology. His favorite sport is football. He’s a Giant’s fan, but will tolerate the Raiders. He loves to ride his motorcycle but hates driving in cars. I picked up on that when he took me out last weekend. I don’t ask about why, because I already know. The accident.