Page 5 of The Hard Way

“Did it sound like a Mississippi?” I said, a little too saucy.

Thor pressed a firm hand at my chest and pushed me against the wall. The roughness of it caught on the fabric of my dress. It was kind of delicious. Needless to say, I was in a very non-Mississippi mood.

With a stormy gaze, he yanked off the belt of my dress. It was a wraparound, the favored style of fancy Italian designers and dirty-minded bank robbers the world over. He pulled the halves apart and slid his hands up and down my bare belly. “I like you like this. So much.” He pressed in for a kiss as he pushed the dress off over my shoulders. I shrugged it off and gave it to him. He bunched it up and fit it in his pocket.

“Panties,” he said.

I sucked in a breath. I’d recently gotten a Brazilian wax, and I felt extra exposed.

“Now,” he said.

“What if they make me wait a long time?”

He stepped near to me, hooked his thumbs on either side of my panties, and slid them down my thighs and down, down, down my legs. He knelt in front of me and planted a kiss on my bare mound. “Correction: I love you like this.” He gripped my thighs and shoved his tongue right into my folds.

“Omigod.” I grabbed his hair, nearly coming right there.

His clever tongue delved between my legs.

Did I say clever tongue? His tongue was more than clever; it was dangerously intelligent—omniscient, even. Thor’s tongue knew all, knew how to zero in on the most ticklish and needy places between my legs that even my mind hadn’t detected, while cunningly changing into the most devastatingly perfect shape, from hard, tubular muscle to a flat resistance-is-futile entity.

And then it was gone.

“Noooo!” I whispered. “Back!”

He stood back up and undid my bra. “You think you can pull me off task?” he asked with a humorous glint in his eyes. “Is that what you’re trying to do?”

“Yes,” I gasped.

“You are so poorly behaved,” he said, fingering me, “with your pussy so beautiful like that.” He was breathing hard, pulling my bra loose from my arms with one hand and touching me with the other.

Soon his suit jacket pockets bulged with my outfit. I winced to think of the wrinkles, though the outfit not actually being on me was probably the far greater of the two fashionfaux pas.

Thor whipped off his suit jacket and hung it on a bit of rebar that was sticking out like a wiry arm, high above, so that he was just in shirt sleeves. He rolled back his cuffs a turn, then he took hold of my shoulders and turned me, pressing me to the cool and nubby stone wall. He covered me with his warm, clothed body, erection jutting into my ass. “How does it feel?”

“Bumpy,” I said. “Cool.”

He slid his hands down my arms, then he stretched them up over my head. With my fingertips, I felt something like a grate. It was one of the window cages.

“Grip it,” he said. “You’ll need to hold on tight for this.”

Heart racing, I curled my fingers through the squares.

“Odin said to prepare you utterly in the ass, but he wanted you to feel the wall, too.”

He reached his hands around my breasts and found my nipples and began to work them. Now and then they’d touch the wall, sending volts through me. Was the whole wall electric? The entire world? “Oh, god,” I said.

“Too much?”

“Too much…yet not enough.”

Warm in my ear, he whispered, “That means it’s just right.” He kissed down my neck, and he ruthlessly touched my nipples to the wall. He forced a knee between my thighs and urged my legs apart. “Spread,” he breathed. “Nice and wide the way we like.”

I complied, stepping apart.

He slapped my ass. “Wider.”

I widened my stance.

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