by ChaShiree M.
Hagen & Missy: Filthy Modern Vikings
The Jorgensen Legacy
ChaShiree M.
M.K. Moore
Hagen & Missy (The Jorgensen Legacy)
By ChaShiree M. & MK Moore
© ChaShiree M. & MK Moore 2019 Breeding Nation Publishing.
All Rights Reserved
By the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Erotic Adult Romance.
Cover created by Dark Water Covers
Created with Vellum
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
About ChaShiree M.
Acknowledgments
Other Books by ChaShiree M.
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Other books by MK Moore
Dedicated to those that never give up.
What do I do when my brand-new WIFE wants nothing more than conjugal visits?
Win her over, of course.
We did everything in the wrong order, but it feels so right.
Will Hagen make Missy his before it's too late?
Yeah, probably, this is a Filthy Modern Viking novella after all, but what a ride it will be getting there.
This Jorgensen Legacy is almost too hot to handle.
Prologue
Hagen
Las Vegas, Nevada
Four Months ago
When I agreed to be my buddy Sully’s best man, I didn’t think we’d end up in Vegas, but here we are. I hate Vegas. I hate parties. I really dislike strippers. And I plainly, outright hate people and being around them. My niche is being at home with my computers more than I am around people.
As a child I had social anxiety disorder. It resulted in me being alone a lot. When I became an adult, I had to learn to get cope with my ‘handicap’. Anyone who is close to me has had to learn to deal with my eccentricities right along with me. It included my parents and siblings most of all. Who knows? I may actually really, really hate people and cannot absolutely deal with their fuckery.
Yet, here I am standing in a bar that is next door to a strip club. Fuck no, trying to get the bartender's attention without being an asshole like the other patrons is not something I will lower myself to.
“Hey, sweet cheeks, can I get a beer?” One drunk fuck asks the bartender.
When she turns around, I growl. An instant feeling of possessiveness washes over me when she does. Her eyes pop up to mine and I know she has somehow heard my growl over the music and the crowd. She ignores the patron and he only gets louder.
“Hey bitch, I’m talking to you,” he says slamming a twenty down on the counter. I automatically see red and storm down the bar to where he’s standing. Her tiny cut-off shorts and belly shirt leave nothing to the imagination, and I hate that she’s wearing that outfit. Her shoes are black Converse, which are the same as I currently have on.
“Who the fuck do you think you are talking to her like that?” I ask, barely restraining myself.
“She’s a dumbass waitress, man. Get a fucking grip,” he says turning back towards the bar.
Fuck that noise. I lift the man over my shoulder and march him to the door. The bouncer steps aside and I toss him out into the street. When I turn to go back to the bar there is some applause, but all I want to see is if my girl is okay. The girl whose name I don’t know, but soon will if I have my way. And I always get my way.
“You are drinking free tonight, big boy,” one of the other waitresses throws out to me. I smile, but I am not interested in her. She is right about one thing. I am big at 6’8, 310 pounds, and having broad shoulders. With my size I could’ve been a defensive lineman in the NFL, but I passed. Instead, I used the football scholarship to Purdue to gain access to their computer sciences
“Where is the girl? The brunette from before?” I ask.
“I’m right here,” an angelic voice says from behind me. I turn around and the air suddenly leaves my lungs in a whoosh. She is more beautiful up close than she was behind the bar. Her bright blue eyes are sparkling in the pulsing flashing lights of the bar.
“Hello,” I stupidly say.
“Hi,” she replies as she gives me a little wave. Looking at her, I decide then and there that I want her for the rest of my fucking life.
“Wanna go someplace a little quieter?” I ask.
“I’m working,” she says smiling. “But only for fifteen more minutes. I don’t close tonight. What’s your name stranger”?
“Hagen Jorgensen,” I answer. “You?”
“Melissa Aaronson.”
“I’ll wait right here for you, Missy,” I say. She grins and goes to finish her shift of work. At ten o’clock she is standing next to me in a different outfit. Jeans and a t-shirt this time. Still, fucking hot.
After a night of drinking and seeing all that Vegas has to offer, we end up in the Best Wedding Chapel In The World on the strip. We are tipsy, but not drunk enough that we don’t know what we’re doing.
“Are we really doing this?” She asks taking her hand and gripping mine tight.
“Yeah, baby.” I confirm.
She is the one who suggested this. This is extreme and all because I told her I wouldn’t fuck her until she was my wife. My father told me years ago that when you find the one, you’ll wish you’d waited. Basically, I took that to mean that I shouldn’t dip my dick in anything that moves while waiting for her. And I never did. My brothers gave me shit for it all the time but fuck them. They won’t have something this special with the one meant for them.
Ten minutes later we are married and headed back to my hotel. We are barely inside the door before we are ripping each other’s clothes off. I lift her tiny body into my arms and carry her to the bed and look down at my queen. She is fucking gorgeous and she is all mine. My cock is hard and leaking precum, but still I stare. Her blush starts at her chest and rises up.
“What are you looking at?” She asks, rising up on her elbows.
“My wife. My queen. The mother of my children.” Children have never been on my radar, but with her everything seems possible now.
“I think it’s time, my husband. My king. The father of my children.” God, I have never heard sexier words.
I climb on the bed and in between her seductively parted thighs. This maybe something I have never done before, but I’ve seen enough porn. I lower my head and kiss her soft thighs, making my way to her pretty pink pussy. The first taste of her j
uices have me groaning. Her hands tangle in my short hair, basically shoving me into her cunt. I grin while I eat her sucking her clit into my mouth and causing her to moan. Moving down to lightly lick her plump pussy lips, before my tongue enters her little fuckhole.
“I need you,” she says, and I look up at her.
“You have me,” I say rising to my knees. Aligning my cock up with her opening I slide inside her, slowly. Savoring the first feel of her. Fuck, I am ready to explode inside of her. I break through her cherry and look down in her eyes. She has tears swimming in them.
“You didn’t say anything. I had no idea. I am sorry, baby,” I say leaning down to kiss her tears away.
“Don’t be. This is perfect,” she breathes and moves her hips before taking me by surprise and flipping us over so that she is on top. She rises and falls above me. We come at the same time.
The next morning, she agrees to come to Minnesota with me. We pack her meager possessions from her parent's house. Neither of them were home and when she didn’t leave a note or call them, I figured they wouldn’t care. The only clean room in the house was hers and the door was locked from the inside when we got there. She used a key. I didn’t push her for now, she’ll tell me when she’s ready.
We get on the plane and reality begins to set in. I got married without telling my family. I know they will be happy for me, but it doesn’t help matters when she gets cold feet.
“I think we made a mistake,” she says somewhere over the Midwest.
“How so?” I ask, looking up from my laptop where I am trying to get some work done. I slacked off this weekend with good reason, but as it wasn’t exactly planned, I don’t want to leave my brother’s in the lurch.
“I know nothing about you,” she says. I close my laptop and look at her.
“You know the important things.”
“We should get the marriage annulled and then I should go back home,” she says quietly.
“That will never happen, my queen. Hear me now. I will go slow with you, but I will never give you a divorce or have our marriage annulled as if it never happened. Don’t ask that of me again,” I say.
“Okay,” she says quietly.
Once we are in St. Paul the drive to Bleak is quiet. I pull up in front of my apartment building where mine is one of the many on the second floor of the building. It houses Erika’s flower shop and the jewelry store on the ground floor.
I carry her bags upstairs and set them just inside the door. Then I lift her up and carry over the threshold. She squeaks and hangs on to my neck. I kiss her and pour my soul into it. She kisses me back.
“I still think we should take it slowly,” she says breaking the kiss.
“Fine, my queen. But I’ll be back,” I say.
“Wait. You’re leaving?”
“I am giving you some time to get used to this.” I gesture between us. “Because, this is happening.” She just nods. “I’ll be at my parent’s house. I already programmed the number, as well as mine if you need me tonight. I can be back here in ten minutes if you need me.”
“Okay.”
“Make yourself at home. Closet, drawers, or whatever you need. Feel free to look through whatever you want. You can start getting to know me that way,” I say turning to walk out the door. Everything in me is screaming to stay and make her see reason.
“Wait,” she says. I pause and turn back to her. She runs and jumps into my arms and kisses me again. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“You fucking better,” I say growling.
Fuck, this sucks.
Chapter One
Hagen
One Month Later
I have done nothing but think of ways to get her to want to be my wife in every way. Deep down I know she loves me. She tells me when I am inside of her. I do not understand or have any idea why she won’t commit to the commitment she has already made. She has already married me and fucks me constantly. I see no earthly reason why we don’t live together.
We have seen each other every day for the last month. It never fails that we end up fucking, but then she sends me on my way. Most guys would love the arrangement, but not me and certainly not from the woman I love. I want it known to the world over that she is mine. My brothers got me drunk last night after I left her. They know something is up, but I haven’t told them just what. I can’t.
After they left the office, I wandered around town. I ended up at Queen of Hearts Ink that is down the street from my office. I’m not exactly sure what made me do it, but I got her name elaborately tattooed on my side. It was done with little peonies surrounding it, her favorite flower. The ink connects to the back piece I have of the Knights of Crusades in a battle scene that Kitty did. I had Dex do this one. It only seemed right, now that I am a married man.
I want my wife by my side every night. We haven’t spent an entire night together save the first one when we got married. Now, I think I should have savored it more. But I thought I’d have a million nights like that with her.
For the first time, I wonder if I am too old for her. I have thirty-one years to her twenty-four. Although she doesn’t seem to mind when I am deep inside of her. What if she has noticed that I am different is my biggest fear, and doesn’t want to come right out and say it? Fuck, why does it have to be so hard?
“Son, you’re different than your brothers,” my dad, Thor says. No one calls him that, but it’s a fun name, nonetheless. He is an OB/GYN, so I feel like he knows women. I took a chance and told him about Vegas and Missy.
“I know that dad. But I am one thousand percent in love with her. I don’t have any experience with this kind of thing,” I say burying my head in my hands. I hate how indecisive this has made me.
“It’s not easy Hagen. Marriage takes work. Even after all these years, your mother and I still have a date night. You are going to have to win your wife over. You did things out of order. Date your wife first,” he says chuckling.
“Thanks, Dad.” I say leaving his office.
His idea has merit. She needs to get to know the real me without the sex. Fuck, this will be the hardest thing that I have ever done, but I have to if I want to make our marriage work. Twenty minutes after leaving, my niece, Hailey, calls to congratulate me. I should have known that my dad would tell my mom and my mom would tell everyone we know. I suppose on some level that is what I wanted to happen. If I truly had wanted discretion, I would have told my brother, Om.
Missy has barely left my apartment, except to go to the store and work. She found a waitress position at Carl’s. On our first night together, I remember her telling me that she wants to run a diner one day. A fifties themed diner to be exact. She said those were a dime a dozen in Vegas. Bleak doesn’t have anything like that. Moosehead either for that matter. Come to think of it, I think St. Cloud is probably the closest place that has anything like that.
I head over to Carl’s, the only diner in town. I know he’s thinking about selling, so I make him an offer he can’t refuse. For a little over $10,000 I bought her dream. I selfishly did this to tie her to Bleak and to me. Sue me. I will use every weapon in my arsenal to get her to stay with me.
Chapter Two
Missy
One Month Later
What the hell was I thinking? I mean, seriously? I have no clue where my head was, besides being in the gutter. First of all, who in their right mind marries a man after knowing him only a few hours? Then leaves the said man after jumping on a plane and flying across the country with him? That would be me. This girl right here as I am rolling my eyes at myself.
To be fair being that sexy should be a crime. I have never been attracted to the whole Viking look before. But when this behemoth of a man walked in, all ‘Timothy Olyphant’ Justified and shit; his head is shaved on each side making a long mohawk, and a face full of hair I knew would leave rug burn on my thighs. I was a goner. But when he stood up for my honor and threw that drunk piece of muck out of the bar, I literally came on myself right there
. You won’t find that many men protecting the honor of a waitress in Vegas.
When he was still there when I got off, I ignored my mind and went with what felt good. Well, way to go Missy. Now here I am in no man's land Minnesota, married to someone I don’t know, and living in his apartment alone. I am alone because I chickened out after the fact with no family, no job, and no freaking clue where the hell I am.
Basically. The messed-up part is I have been going over and over this for the past few days wondering what the hell I was thinking. And it all comes back to the same thing. I am looking for security and love.
My mom was 16 when she had me. She dropped out of high school and worked a long line of endless jobs. I never knew my dad and she wasn’t too keen on telling me who he was or anything about him. We grew up together if you will. Though I could easily make the argument that I grew up and she just...got older.
When I became old enough to work, I worked every day after school determined to finish high school. Meanwhile, my mother had a string of rotten marriages. Six to be exact. I swore to myself there was no way I would do that. Being like my mother is not what I want to do or be like. There is no way I would marry a man for comfort, only to divorce him months later.
“Well, you’re well on the way girl if you don’t get your shit together.” I admonish myself.
The thing is, as crazy as it sounds, I think I might really love him. I know it's nuts. We just met, but I have always been a believer in ‘when you know you know.’ And something about him makes me feel safe, feminine, and wanted. Things I have never felt before. When he made love to me, my body sighed. It was like a physical sigh. Almost as if it knew we had just met the man who is going to treasure us forever.