Page 21 of Tyr

No. Nope. Not doing it.He shouldn’t… But he really freaking wanted to. Which was the exact reason he couldn’t.

She lowered her gaze, and they stared at each other awkwardly through the mirror.

“If you won’t, someone else will need to help me. Perhaps your friend Hermódr?—”

Tyr didn’t let her finish the sentence. He moved in front of her so fast she took a step backward and bumped into the vanity. He struggled to keep visions of eviscerating Herm from his mind.

“I will do it,” he said too forcefully.

Something flickered in her eyes. Was it triumph? No, it couldn’t be.

He closed his eyes and knelt in front of her.

I can do this. I can do this.

When he opened his eyes again, his gaze lined up with her breasts.

Aphrodite, Oshun, Parvati, Freya, and all the other goddesses of love above, couldn’t he catch a break? He did not need those beautiful, pale, round globes staring at him, barely covered by her sports bra.

He moved his gaze downward to her slender waist and let his gaze settle on her belly button. She’d pierced it, and a small round diamond stuck out the top. It took everything he had to keep from leaning in and kissing the soft-looking flesh.

Get her pants off. Get them off and get out.That was the mission. That was his job. He could do it despite his rock hardness pressing against his sweats.

He swallowed hard and tugged on her leggings. They didn’t budge. He tugged again. Again, they didn’t budge. He inspected the waistband. It had to be at least four inches wide and hugged her like a glove. But what the heck was she trying to keep in place?

I give up. I just give up. My life is over. I just need to admit it. Herm and Vid were right. It’s been too long since I’ve bedded a woman.

“As I mentioned, they are shaper leggings. You have to scoop your hands inside the waistband and push them down. Their job is to not budge.”

Tyr looked up at her. She had to be joking, right? “So… you want me to slide my hands inside your leggings and push them down?”

She bit her lip before nodding.

Tyr swallowed as his pants tightened further. He chastised himself for his body’s reaction. Now was not the time. Not the time at all. But he couldn’t help it. A beautiful woman had asked him to put his hands on her bare skin. Not any woman. This woman. This gorgeous, strong, strange woman. How else could he react?

No! She’s Sy’s daughter.He needed to stop thinking of her as a woman and remember he’d promised hisfriendhe’d keep her safe.

Tyr slid his fingers inside the waistband of her leggings and worked his palms inside as well. His erection kicked painfully against his waistband as he pushed the leggings downward. Why a woman as beautiful as Celeste with the most perfect curves both sinner and saint gave her needed shapewear was beyond him.

He skimmed his hands down the outsides of her thighs, and she steadied herself by placing one hand on his shoulder as he tugged them off. He tried not to notice the pink satin panties that blocked his view, but he couldn’t help it. He bit the inside of his cheek as his thoughts turned to spreading her thighs and licking every inch of her.

Tyr stood so fast he almost fell over as he backed away. What the hell was wrong with him? She was injured. More thaninjured. Even her legs were covered in welts. Sure, he’d bedded women after fights before when he was injured, but that was different. He was the God of War. Injury was part of his life.

“I’ll… I’ll take your pants to be cleaned and be back later to bring you some food.” He grabbed up her pants after she stepped out of them and tore through his room for the door.

“Tyr?”

He closed his eyes. By all that was holy, why couldn’t she let him leave?

“I… I…”She blew out a breath.“I can’t get my bra off.”

Oh, sweet Frigg, Freya, and Hel. What was she trying to do to him?A man could only keep his parts in check for so long before they burst. And she skirted that line with every word that fell from her mind.

He willed his erection to deflate. He begged it to subside. But nothing happened. Finally, he took his hand holding her leggings and used it to cover himself as he turned to face her. Her expression gave nothing away as she turned away from him, exposing her back.

Tyr stared at her shapely, round rear, barely covered by a strip of fabric as wide as three fingers. Even bruised and welted, her legs were strong and muscular.

In that moment, he fought against a rise of lust inside him that had nothing to do with wanting to bathe in someone’s blood. He needed to get out, had to get out—if he didn’t, he’d surely give Sy a reason to want him dead as much as the guy who’d hurt her.

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