Page 62 of Thor

Thor approached his climb differently than I had—less technical, more power-driven, but still surprisingly methodical. I found myself captivated by the play of muscles across his back and shoulders as he pulled himself upward. Several holds flexed under his weight in ways they hadn't under mine.

"Damn, your boyfriend's strong," Cassie murmured beside me.

Boyfriend. The word felt simultaneously inadequate and thrilling. Thor was so much more—my Dom, my protector, my Daddy when I needed that side of him. But he was also this: a man scaling a wall, shooting a triumphant grin down at me when he conquered a difficult section.

When he reached the top and I lowered him down, his face was flushed with exertion and pleasure.

"Not bad for an old biker," he said, rubbing chalk from his hands.

"Not bad for anyone," I corrected, unable to keep the admiration from my voice.

Cassie left us to our own devices after that first climb, confident we knew what we were doing. Thor and I took turns on progressively more challenging routes, falling into an easy rhythm of climbing and belaying. The familiar movements were therapeutic, requiring focused attention that left no room for worrying about work deadlines or Serpent threats.

Between climbs, Thor kept me close, his hand resting possessively at my waist or lower back. I noticed a few curious glances from other climbers—the massive, heavily tattooed biker and the smaller redhead made an unusual pair in this setting. But Thor's presence created an invisible bubble around us, discouraging any unwanted attention.

During one water break, I caught him watching me with naked hunger as I stretched my arms overhead, working out the pleasant ache in my shoulders.

"What?" I asked, lowering my arms self-consciously.

His eyes tracked over me in a way that made heat pool low in my belly. "You look good here."

"Here specifically, or just in general?" I teased, surprising myself with my boldness.

Thor's laugh was low and rich. "Both. But especially here." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You're in your element. Confident. Strong. It's sexy as hell."

The compliment hit me hard. I felt like I was buzzing with desire.

"We should climb together more often," I suggested, reaching for my water bottle to hide how much his words affected me.

Thor's hand covered mine on the bottle. "We should do lots of things together more often," he replied, his meaning unmistakable in the heat of his gaze.

This was what had been missing from my life—this electrifying connection, this feeling of being truly seen.

"Ready for another route?" I asked, desperate to channel this energy somewhere before I did something inappropriate in a public gym.

Thor's knowing smile said he understood exactly what I was feeling. "Lead the way, princess. I've got your back."

Bymid-afternoon,mymuscleshummed with pleasant fatigue and my fingertips were raw in the best possible way. We'd progressed to intermediate routes, colorful paths of tape marking increasingly challenging sequences up the towering walls. My body remembered more than I'd expected—the subtle weight shifts, the counterbalance techniques, the way to read a route before attempting it. Each successful climb fueled my confidence for the next, spiraling upward like the paths we followed to the ceiling.

The gym had grown busier as the day progressed, the after-work crowd filtering in to blow off steam. Still, other climbers gave Thor a wide berth. His club tattoos were visible beneath his t-shirt sleeves, the Heavy Kings crown peeking from beneath the fabric whenever he reached overhead. Protection by association extended to me, creating a bubble of space that felt luxurious in the increasingly crowded facility.

We'd fallen into an efficient rhythm—Thor belaying me with unwavering attention, his blue eyes tracking my every move as I ascended. When it was his turn, I'd guide him through technical sequences where my experience gave me an edge over his raw strength.

"Flag your right leg," I called up to him as he hesitated on a tricky overhang. "Use it as a counterbalance."

Thor followed my instruction without question, extending his right leg away from the wall in a movement that looked awkward but allowed him to maintain balance as he reached for the next hold.

"Good!" I encouraged as he successfully navigated the crux of the route. "Now match hands on the big jug and rest a minute."

The look of concentration on his face as he followed my guidance sent an unexpected thrill through me. This man—who commanded respect with a glance, who made hardened bikers snap to attention—was listening to me, trusting my expertise. The usual power dynamic between us had shifted in this one specific arena, and Thor seemed to relish it as much as I did.

"Having fun?" I asked, helping him unclip from the rope.

"More than I expected," he admitted, wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm. "You're a good teacher."

"You're a good student." I handed him his water bottle, our fingers brushing in a way that sent sparks up my arm. "Ready for something harder?"

Thor's eyebrow shot up at the challenge in my voice. "Bring it on, princess."

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