Page 8 of The Hard Way

Odin came up next to me and slid a finger along my chin. “Are you almost there?”

“Yes,” I gasped.

“But you weren’t following my directions, were you?”

“Huh?”

“Your beautiful ass a little bit out?” I whimpered as he caressed it. I pressed it out into his hand, hoping he’d stick a finger or three in. Or was this one of those things where they got me wanting something superbad only to withhold it?

Odin slid a hand across my left butt cheek, then he gave it a hard slap. “Out more.”

I complied.

“There. That’s how I told you to wait. You still think this is Mr. and Mrs. Claus we’re playing at?”

Whack.

My entire being quivered.

“Is that what you think?” he continued. “That we’re like fluffy laughing Christmas characters with no edge?”Slap. “Like Mr. and Mrs. Claus?”Whap.

Odin really had a negative thing about Santa and Mrs. Claus. Like they symbolized a disturbingly neutered existence, rather than, say, presents under the tree. “Um…”

He hit me again, a sting followed by exciting and sparkly warmth. It was good. I wanted a lot. I wanted everything, everything, everything.

“Tell me, goddess, is this what Santa and Mrs. Claus do?”

“I hope not,” I breathed between spanks. “Or they’d traumatize a lot of elves. Not to mention children.”

Everything went still.

Except for the thunderous silence.

My heart pounded.

Mischievously, I added, “It would definitely be the end of their paid holiday appearances at shopping malls.”

“Oh, Ice.” Odin grabbed my hands and spun me around to face him.

I teetered on my wobbly heels, breathing hard while he looked deeply into my eyes.

He’d seemed so distant lately with his nightmares, but I felt us connecting now.

He held my hands and pressed them back to the wall above my head so that the backs of my hands grazed the nubby brick and held me there, letting the night air play upon my breasts and belly, so cool and sweet.

And then he kissed me, deep and intense. “We love you, goddess,” he said into the kiss, “but sometimes you are so naughty.” He roamed his hands all over my body. “And so wet. You love being naked in a dirty alley.”

“Do it,” I begged.

“Do what?” He casually slid a finger into my mouth. It tasted faintly of garlic and basil and everything wonderful about our dinner.

I sucked it, hard, hopefully giving him ideas of things to do very very soon.

He looked at me strangely, drew the finger down my jaw. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” I trusted him completely, dangerous mood and all. I trusted Odin in a way I’d trusted few people ever.

Casually, he stepped back and took off his fine suit jacket. He threw it onto the ground like a picnic blanket.

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