Page 13 of Master Vidar & Vali

Colin whipped into a parking space, and I was surprised to see we were already at Midgard. He panted as he gripped the wheel. His knuckles were white from the strain of holding back his temper. It wasn’t often that he let this side of himself see the light of day, but when he did, it took a lot for him to ease down. I knew it was part of his PTSD as much as the nightmares and aversion to going out were part of mine. With a few cruel words, no matter how true they were, I’d pushed him over the edge.

“I’m sorry.” I meant the apology though it was bitter against my tongue. “Let’s get her somewhere safe and find out the wholestory. Promise me you will try to think about what is best with a clear head?”

“Fine.” Colin stepped out of the car, and I saw him shake off his temper and slowly regain control. We did some reconnaissance to ensure she hadn’t been followed and used the back entrance for the club.

The music was on low as the club hadn't opened yet and we could faintly make out the sounds of Dottie’s high-pitched voice and the deeper, gravelly one belonging to Rafe. At the end of the hall that led from the offices to the play space we stopped in unison. There she stood almost glowing in the dim light. The pictures hadn’t done her justice.

Zara’s clothing was rumpled, but it did nothing to hide the graceful curves. She reminded me a little of Raia, Erik’s woman in the classic line of her body, but that is where the resemblance ended.

Where Raia was tall, with very pale skin and a massive crown of dark hair, Zara, was smaller, with blond tresses that spilled over her shoulders. There was something in the way she moved about the space, touching different pieces of equipment, her brow furrowed as she examined them that made me think of a curious cat.

She didn’t so much as walk like regular people, she glided. Had I not known her history, I might have believed she’d had a background in dance. When she bent over to take a closer look at the straps on the St. Andrews Cross, her skirt slid dangerously high and tightened across her ample backside.

I stifled a moan. She had goods that, the more I observed, the more I wanted to sample. I could see now why Colin had an instant attraction to her. She was lovely in every way, but more than that, there was something about her that made my dick hard.

She stopped at the shibari station, and my hardness grew to a painful throb. She was checking out one of my particular kinks. Seeing her brushing fingertips over the coiled ropes set off an image of tying her on her hands and knees so her ass was high in the air and completely exposed to me.

Colin would tease her mouth with his cock, while I flogged her sexy ass from behind. Colin would whisper dirty words in her ear and run his hands over her skin. I’d change up my flogger for a paddle and brighten her pale ass into a deep ruby red. She’d cry out but I’d run my finger along her slick seam and play with her hardened clit. Her cries would morph into moans of pleasure.

She’d get close to orgasming, but we wouldn’t let her, alternating the pressure and pushing her toward an edge we wouldn’t allow her to leap from. When she cried out no more, we’d scoop her up and carry her to a private room.

I’d grip her hair and shove my cock in her mouth. Oh, the vision of her plump lips wrapped around my hard dick and those baby blues peering up at me, had me almost coming undone. She’d bounce on Colin’s cock while he played with her nipples. He’d clamp down on a hardened peak and she would come undone, crying out from the intense pleasure.

We’d switch and?—

“Did you hear me?”

I shook my head pulling back to the present to see Colin frowning at me. “Uh, no.” I licked my lips.

“I said whoever put those fucking bruises on her face is going to pay.”

He was right, when I got past the fantasy, and my natural attraction for her, and Zara turned toward the light, I could see the bruising on her face. I’d burn the fucker and his empire to the ground when I got my hands on the man who’d done this to her.

But those thoughts fluttered to the ground and scattered at the recognition when she saw Colin. She took a few steps toward us, then hesitated before straightening her back and looking him in the eyes. The chemistry between them was almost palpable. I wanted her to look at me that way too.

“Did you mean it when you said you would help me?”

“Of course. Anything you need.”

We were so screwed.

Chapter Six

Colin

My attention was divided between the road ahead and Zara huddled snuggly in the backseat. She’d given us a brief explanation about her encounter with her boss and what he wanted from her but paused when Lincoln had insisted we take the conversation somewhere more secure. Her immediate agreement to stay at a safe house outside the city was obviously born of desperation. She probably hadn’t anticipated the two-hour drive but so far, seemed content to trust us about where we were going.

The drive to the safe house was quiet, although the unspoken questions practically crackled in the air. If I had to guess, all of us were holding things back. Beside me, the waves of tension that rolled off Lincoln were like an ocean of silent words filling the space between us. I hated that we seemed to have different priorities, but what I hated even more was that he seemed to feel he couldn’t fight with me over that conflict. All of that led to an atmosphere that had Zara huddling in the backseat, her eyes constantly darting between the landscape and the two of us.

I knew at least I was avoiding talking because I needed to stay focused on getting us somewhere safe. Anything she had to say could possibly trigger me in ways that weren’t conducive to driving. We’d talk when we were safe. Unfortunately, my imagination wasn’t on board with the no distractions plan. It created all sorts of horrible scenarios to explain the bruising and flight from Albania.

I’d thought my PTSD was contained to the few hours a night I tried to sleep, but this situation was dancing across several raw parts of my mind. Using controlled breathing, I was battling back my memories under the hope we would soon be at the safest place I knew. I turned off the highway and down a dirt road most people wouldn’t have noticed.

“Where exactly are you taking me? Creepy murder cabins in the woods have never really been my scene.” Zara’s voice shook as her attempt at humor still betrayed her fear.

I caught her gaze in the rearview mirror and tried to give her a comforting smile. “Someplace safe, so we can make a plan. Relax, remember, we’re the good guys.”

“I hope this place at least has indoor plumbing.” The words were mumbled under her breath just loud enough that I was sure she had meant for us to hear them. I hoped her sarcasm was a sign of her relaxing but wasn’t sure.

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