Thor (Recherché #1)

by L. P. Lovell

  I wake up the next morning with Poppy’s cheek pressed to my bare chest. I take a deep breath and stare at the ceiling, asking myself for the hundredth fucking time what I’m doing. She shifts, sliding her thigh further over my leg and making my dick stiffen. She shifts again, brushing her thigh right up against my balls. I groan and her shoulders start vibrating before she turns her face into my chest and laughs.

  “This is abuse.” I mumble.

  She hops up and throws a leg over my waist, straddling my hips. “Poor thing.” She teases, bending forward and placing feather light kisses over my chest. With every tiny kiss, my dick is getting harder and harder. There’s me getting a hard on over the Anna’s of this world. Little did I know that it’s the innocent touch from the right person that really gets your dick pumping. She moves lower, kissing over my stomach, and when she reaches the waistband of my boxers she traces her tongue along the edge in a wet trail. Fuck! All I can think is that her lips and my cock are separated by the thinnest fucking scrap of material. Her fingers hook into the waistband, yanking them down and freeing my cock. It pops out, hard as a baseball bat and more than happy to see her. She looks up at me through her long lashes, a sexy smile on her face. And then she licks me from balls to tip. I hiss out a breath and lift my arms above my head, gripping the wrought iron bed frame tightly. She takes my cock, bobbing her head as she fucks me with her mouth. One hand grips the base of my dick and the other massages my balls. The way she does everything, as though she’s tentatively exploring every inch of me, has me physically shaking, restraining myself from fucking her mouth. I throw my head back against the pillow and blow out a long breath. Jesus, this is like a sweet form of torture. I’m a guy who prides myself on the ability to go for hours, but with Poppy’s mouth on my cock…I’ll be lucky to see out ten minutes. She flicks her tongue over my bell end and I lose it. I can’t help it.

  “Fuck, Poppy.” I glance down at her and she hums around my dick. I fist her hair and slowly thrust my hips up against her face, watching my cock slide between those sweet lips. I groan when I hit the back of her throat. She swallows around me and squeezes my balls gently. My balls tighten and tremors shoot down my spine. My body goes rigid tense and I let out a growl as I come in her mouth. She takes it, swallowing everything I fucking give her.

  I collapse back on the bed and try to catch my breath. When I open my eyes she’s risen up on her knees and is wiping the corners of her mouth. This fucking girl.

  I sit on the back patio smoking a cigar. A glass of scotch is on the table next to me and I’m still wearing the same clothes I went out in last night. Xavier steps outside with a cup of coffee in hand and the paper tucked under his arm. He takes one look at my face and a frown etches into his features. I look away and inhale another puff of my cigar, blowing the smoke into the mid-morning air.

  He pulls up the iron garden chair next to me and takes a seat. “Bit early for that.” He nods his head towards the glass of scotch.

  “It was a rough night.”

  “Client?” He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket removes one before throwing them on the table.

  I drag a hand over my face and prop my elbows on my knees. “Not quite.”

  He lights the cigarette and leans back in his chair, watching me intently. “What’s going on with you, man?”

  Fuck, I wish I knew. “I saw Poppy again.” I say quietly. “Twice.”

  He exhales a long breath and a cloud of smoke streams between his lips. “She pay you?” I shake my head. “Does she know what you do?”

  I look right at him. “No.”

  “Shit, Thor.”

  I lean back and tilt my face upward. “I fucked April yesterday and had to imagine it was Poppy just to keep my dick hard.” He cocks a brow while taking a drag on the cig. “Then I went and fucked Poppy because I was that desperate for her. I told you I wouldn’t see her again. I told myself I wouldn’t fucking see her again, but shit, I feel like a damn addict, dude.”

  He props his ankle on his knee. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  I huff out a breath. “This isn’t normal, right? To be this…obsessed with one girl?”

  He shrugs. “Look, maybe you just need a break. Take some time off or something. Fuck this chick out of your system and come back in a couple of weeks good to go.” My gut twists at the thought of using Poppy like a spa break.

  I hate the idea that I, Thor Jameson, have managed to stumble down this road. I’m supposed to be the example, the guy that Maddox and Kaden want to be. This job is one that most guys would dream of. The women, the money—it’s everything. Going against it…it feels like going against myself, against everything that I am. And while I’m here, in the house that money bought, with the guys I employ for an agency that I built from the ground up…well then it’s easier to push thoughts of Poppy aside. The second I’m alone though, the second I think about her, she consumes me. All I can think of is the way she smiles, the way she moans my name, the way she tastes, the feel of her wrapped around my fucking dick. Shit.

  “A break might be good.” At the very least I need to reassess everything.

  I get SJ to email all of my clients, telling them that I’ll be away for a couple of weeks and they can schedule appointments for when I’m back. Xavier’s too busy to offer up as replacement. Of course, if they can’t have me, then he’s the natural alternative. Instead I offer Maddox. Anna takes it, a couple of the others book for two weeks’ time and April never responds. I’m expecting her phone call any time now.

  It takes her three hours to call me and honestly I’m surprised it took her so long.

  “April.”

  “What is this?” She shrieks.

  “If you’re referring to the email then it’s fairly self-explanatory.”

  “And I have to find out like this, via an email from your assistant.”

  I sigh. “Yes. As did my other clients.”

  “This is about that girl isn’t it?” She asks, desperation leaking into her voice.

  “I am not your fucking boyfriend, April!” I shout. I’ve never lost it with her. Never.

  “I will pay you double!” She screams. “A hundred thousand a month.”

  “April.” I say her name through gritted teeth.

  “I need to see you before you leave.” There’s a pleading edge to her voice. God, I can’t deal with her shit right now.

  “No, from now on you book through the office like everyone else. Call SJ and she’ll book you in for when I’m off holiday.” I hang up.

  I’ve allowed April far too much special treatment. It’s like anything. If a high end customer turns up to your night club you give them VIP treatment. You look after those who will spend a lot of money and therefore heavily support your business. The fact is Recherché wouldn’t be what it is without all the money that April Farley has given me over the years. There comes a time though where you have to take your soul back from the devil. She’s always been intense but I never really cared before. Now…I don’t know, I guess her crazy ownership thing pisses me off.

  So now I’m free of clients for the next two weeks and I’m not sure how I feel about that. Part of me feels like I lost. Poppy got under my skin and this feels like giving up, like I stopped fighting. I throw myself into agency work because at least that makes me feel like I haven’t just given up on everything I’ve ever known.

  Early evening the guys start rolling in. Kaden turns up wearing a seriously sharp suit and tie and his usually messy hair is combed back. He puts his invoice list on SJ’s desk.

  “Hey boss.”

  “Looking a bit slick, kid.”

  He glances down at himself. “Oh, yeah. I had to go and hang out with Mrs. Preston this afternoon.”

  I lean back in my chair and smile. “What did she have you doing this time?”

  He rubs the back of his neck and looks embarrassed. “Uh, I went to bridge club with her.”

  I have to laugh. “Kid, if you can go to
bridge club for five grand an hour then fair fucking play to you.”

  “I also need you to background check a new client.”

  I cock an eyebrow at him. “Do you now?” He digs in his pocket and hands me one of his own business cards. Scribbled on the back is a name, address and date of birth. That’s everything I need to know, everything there is to know about a client. It sounds ridiculous, but it’s something we’ve always done in terms of a financial background check. My guys aren’t cheap. The last thing you want is to fuck someone and not get paid for it. Of course when we took Cora on I started to worry about the other side of things. Clients are now fully checked and if they flag with any criminal history then we don’t work with them.

  I skim over the details, mainly the date of birth. “Thirty-six. That’s almost young for you Kaden.” He flips me off and I grin. “How did you find her?”

  “Uh…” Again he rubs his hand over his neck. “I have this guy…He works with her apparently.” He shrugs. I don’t ask too many questions. If the kid’s happy to do it and the client pays their money, then it’s all fine.

  I nod. “Okay, I’ll run it now.”

  An hour later I step out of the office, but the guys are nowhere to be seen. I can hear music blaring down the corridor, coming from the gym. When I open the door my eyebrows shoot up.

  Maddox and Kaden are both topless, working out. Maddox is hanging upside down doing sit ups on the pull up frame, while Kaden is doing cleans. Xavier’s in the corner, hoody pulled up ignoring everyone as he works over the heavy bag. I press pause on the sound system. Xavier carries on, but the other two stop and glare at me.

  “Guys, it looks like the warm up for a porno in here.” I tell them.

  Maddox grins. “I keep telling him. We’d make fucking bank.”

  “Fuck off!” Kaden shouts at him.

  “What are you doing?” I ask. Maddox releases his grip on the pull up bars and jumps to the ground. He picks up his phone off the weight rack and presses the screen.

  “Vlogging, dude.”

  “What?”

  “You’re getting old boss.” The kid smirks.

  “Videos, for my followers.” Maddox states as though it should be obvious.

  “Who the fuck wants to follow you?”

  He snorts. “Everyone. Topless work outs have them squirting all over the fucking shop.”

  “Uh huh. Or, they’re thinking any second you’re going to slip it in his arse.”

  “Fuck off, Maddox.” Kaden says before Maddox can even say anything. I laugh.

  “Anyway, I came to tell you that your client checked out, kid.”

  “Thanks.” He says. I nod and press play on the sound system. Their obnoxious rock music starts blaring through the speakers again and I go back to the office.

  Vlogging. I’m getting fucking old.

  It’s three days before the urge to see Poppy starts gnawing away at me again. I still don’t know what the fuck it is about her. I still try to fight it, because I guess I’m not ready to give in and surrender my dick to her, but the amount of time I can hold out for is getting less and less. I work out until sweat drenches my shirt and my muscles feel completely numb, and then I get in the shower, allowing the hot water to pummel my back. I’m tired, my body abused, but my mind still goes to her the second I’m alone. I close my eyes and picture her lips wrapped around my cock, my dick sliding into her mouth inch by inch. My dick instantly hardens. The image changes and I see her straddling me, riding me, her head thrown back as a breathy moan slips from her lips. I drop my head forward against the tile and wrap my fingers around my dick. I remember how she feels, how she looks when I fuck her, how she sounds when she comes. My fist pumps over my cock and I grit my teeth, trying to purge her out of my fucking system. Using my free hand, I cup my balls and imagine her small fingers between my legs, massaging them. I remember her sitting on my front seat, legs spread and her hand on her pussy. Shit. I pump harder as my balls tighten and that tingle starts at the bottom of my spine. I think of her the entire time, groaning as I come. When I open my eyes, I brace my shoulders against the shower wall, breathing hard. I can safely say that Poppy Whitely is the only girl in the last ten years who has ever reduced me to spanking one out in the shower. And let me tell you, it’s a poor fucking imitation. I need to see her.

  I knock on the door to Poppy’s flat and wait. I can’t help but feel ashamed for being here, like a junkie rocking up on his dealer’s door. I know I fell off the wagon, but right now, the fix is more important.

  She yanks the door open and she looks surprised, then panicked. “Thor. What are you doing here?”

  I smirk. “I’ve taken to knocking on random doors just for shits and giggles.”

  “Uh…” She glances over her shoulder and closes the door slightly, blocking the gap with her body. “Now’s not a good time.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “Is that the Chinese?” A male voice shouts from somewhere in her flat. Something in me rises, like a wave, rolling over my skin uncontrollably.

  She closes her eyes and releases a long breath. “Thor, I…” I slam my hand against the door and shove it open. “Thor!” She shouts.

  I spot him sitting on her sofa, a bottle of beer in his hand. “Hey, I’m Danny.” He says, unsure of himself. He’s a skinny fucker with curly blonde hair and a polo shirt.

  “Get the fuck out!” I growl.

  “What? No! Danny sit down.” Poppy moves in front of me, pressing her palm against my chest. “You need to leave.”

  “I’m going to count to three.” I meet his gaze over her head. “One.” He shoots nervous glances at Poppy. “Two.” He stands up.

  “I’m sorry, Poppy. I’m just going to…” He points towards the door. “He’s a big guy.” He tries to offer as a way of explanation. Pussy.

  The door clicks shut behind him and Poppy shoves against my chest hard, but not hard enough to move me. “What the fuck? Get out, Thor!” She screams. I clench my jaw, fighting back the irrational anger that’s swirling around me right now.

  I cross my arms over my chest and cock a brow. “No.”

  She lets out an enraged scream. “You don’t get to do this. You can’t just show up unannounced, kick my friends out of my fucking flat and act like a raging arsehole.”

  I take a step towards her. “I can’t?”

  “No.” She moves back, the same way she always does. It’s like a game of cat and mouse that we always play, as though she doesn’t know that I’ll catch her. I’ll always catch her.

  “I just did.” She stops and I reach for her, placing my hand on the small of her back and wrenching her body against mine roughly. I lower my lips to her ear and she trembles slightly. “Because you’re fucking mine, Poppy.” I spit. I want her to fucking know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is not a free for all. The thought of her fucking another guy is enough to make me see red. And believe me, I know it’s hypocritical, but it’s not. What I do, it’s a job. Poppy…Poppy isn’t the type of girl to meaninglessly fuck someone. I want to mean something to her. I want to matter to her the same way she matters to me. Because if I don’t, then when I tell her what I do…

  She lifts her eyes to mine. “No, I’m just the toy you play with when you’re bored.”

  I huff a laugh. “Oh, you have no fucking idea how wrong you are.” A toy? If only she knew how much trouble she’s caused me. I slide my hand between our bodies and cup her between her legs. She gasps, her hands clinging to my shoulders. “This is mine.” My eyes drop to her parted lips and I lean in, nipping at them. “These are fucking mine.” Her eyes close and a shuddering breath blows over my mouth. “You. Are. Mine.”

  She pushes away from me slightly, and I can see the burning want in her eyes, the need eating away at her. “Words mean nothing. Saying them because you’re jealous doesn’t make them true.”

  Oh, she had to say it. I shake my head slowly and she backs up cautiously until she’s at arm’s length. Something dances acro
ss her irises, something rebellious. I reach out and trail my fingers up the centre of her chest, gripping her throat. She gasps when I yank her back towards me, pulling her up onto her toes and bringing her face to mine. “You drive me fucking crazy.” I growl in her face.

  Her stare slams against mine. “Show me.” She dares.

  I’m hanging on by a damn thread and she just cut it. My lips hit hers and I kiss her, but it’s not soft or gentle, it’s raw and angry. I’m pissed off at her. I’m pissed off at myself. I’m angry at the situation. I’m enraged that some guy was in her apartment. I’m mad that she fucking let some guy in here, at the prospect that she might want him here.

  I grab the tank top she’s wearing and tear it off her body, making her gasp. I push her back, manoeuvring her towards the wall. Her fingers go to my face but I shove her away from me. A look of confusion crosses her features until I grab her hips and spin her, slamming her chest into the wall behind her. She turns her face to the side and I can hear her rapid breaths growing louder with each passing second. I yank her denim shorts and her underwear down her legs where she steps out of them.

  “Spread your legs.” I order. She hesitates for a split second and I slap her arse hard enough to make her whimper. She spreads her thighs and braces her palms on the wall either side of her chest. “Don’t fucking move.” Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I pull it over my head and chuck it on the floor. I unfasten the button and zip on my jeans, allowing them to hang loosely from my hips. She looks so beautiful standing like that, legs spread, pussy bare and easily accessible. I press against her back and her bare skin against mine feels amazing. I kiss the side of her neck whilst trailing my fingers over her arse and between her legs. I swipe my fingers across her pussy and then up, over her arse, before moving back down again. Every time I brush her arsehole she tenses and I smile. She drags in a sharp breath when I press two fingers inside that tight, warm pussy of hers. She clenches around me and I have to bite back a groan.