Page 10 of Bad Luck, Hard Love (Heaven’s Rejects MC #6)

CHARLOTTE

The elevator ascends swiftly, my stomach fluttering with each floor we pass. I'm not sure if it's the speed of our climb or the way Thor's thumb traces lazy circles on my hand. His presence fills the small space like he belongs.

“So, a rooftop dinner,” I say, trying to calm my nerves. “You certainly don't do things halfway.”

“Life's too short for half measures,” he replies, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. “Besides, after what happened last night, I figured you might appreciate somewhere more private.”

The elevator dings as we reach the top floor. Thor leads me through a corridor lined with elegant sconces, their warm light casting our shadows against the textured wallpaper. At the end stands a sleek black door marked Terrace Access .

“After you,” he says, holding the door open.

I step through and gasp. The Las Vegas skyline stretches before me, a glittering tapestry of lights against the darkening desert sky.

The terrace has been transformed into an intimate dining space.

A single table draped in crisp white linen sits in the center, surrounded by dozens of candles that flicker in the gentle evening breeze.

Two covered silver platters wait on the table alongside a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket.

“Thor,” I breathe, taking it all in. “This is...incredible. I thought this was a casual dinner. This seems more like a date.”

“Why can’t it be?” he says with a smile.

I glance away—only to find Thor watching me.

“What?” I ask, unsure why he’s focused on me with so much beauty surrounding us.

His eyes linger, intense and unflinching. His jaw tightens slightly, and a mischievous smile curves at the corner of his lips.

“You…” he says, voice low and husky, “…you are the most amazing thing in this city.”

My heart skips a beat as his words hang in the air, electrifying the space between us.

The seductive allure of Sin City merges with the undeniable chemistry crackling beneath the surface.

What started as a chance encounter at one of the hotel’s bars has led us here—seated at the only table on the rooftop, a private oasis high above the neon chaos of the Strip.

The table is intimate, tucked beneath string lights that sway gently in the warm breeze. The skyline stretches around us in every direction, glittering like the promise of something reckless and unforgettable.

“You know nothing about me other than you rescued me last night,” I say with a soft chuckle, still half in disbelief at how surreal this feels.

“True,” he admits, reaching for the glass in front of him. The amber liquid swirls as he lifts it to his lips, watching me over the rim. “I’d like to change that. Tell me about yourself, Charlotte.”

“There’s not much to tell,” I shrug.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s true.”

He shakes his head at me. “You don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”

“Not really,” I confess. Terrance's influence still has a hold on me, a reminder of the years he treated me as nothing more than a decorative accessory, only valuable when displayed.

Yet, as I speak, part of me questions whether there was ever more to my role than just his carefully crafted illusion.

“Let's begin with an easy question. Where do you hail from?”

“California.”

“Ah, makes sense,” he laughs. “Same here.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I reside in the Los Angeles foothills. And you?”

“San Simeon. What brings you to Vegas?”

“Work,” he says, the word carries on a breeze that seems to take my troubles with it for just a moment.

His face shifts into a mask of nonchalance, but I catch a flicker of something deeper, as if his work holds secrets I can't even begin to fathom.

“A sort of business trip,” he continues, “And you?”

“Girl time with Minny,” I reply. “Though she’s here for a work conference.”

A smile softens his features, “See, that wasn’t so hard,” he teases gently. His words coax me from my shell, though I wonder how much he can see through me, “What else?” he probes with an earnestness that startles me.

“I have a cat.” The confession slips out before I can stop it, as mundane as it is revealing. “He’s a pain in my ass.”

“Aren’t all cats?”

I laugh despite myself, the sound surprising me with its genuineness. “Shadow's particularly gifted at being demanding. He woke me up at six yesterday morning because he decided his food bowl was empty. It wasn't.”

“Shadow?” Thor's eyebrows raise. “Let me guess—black cat?”

“Completely original, I know.” I take a sip of wine, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. “What about you? Any pets?”

“Had a dog growing up. Buster. He was a German Shepherd mix who thought he was a lap dog.” Thor's expression grows distant for a moment, like he's seeing something I can't. “Been thinking about getting another one, but my lifestyle doesn't exactly lend itself to pet ownership.”

“What kind of work keeps you so busy?” I ask, genuinely curious about this man who seems to carry weight beneath his easy charm.

His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, but he doesn’t answer my question. “Should we eat before it gets cold?” he suggests.

Thor grabs the empty plate in front of me and spoons food from the plates before handing it back to me. “I wasn’t sure what you like, so I ordered from the small plates menu.”

“This looks delicious. I really was expecting us to go downstairs to one of the restaurants. My treat, of course, considering what you did for us.”

“After what happened last night, I thought an evening away from the crowd downstairs might be a better option, and it’s my treat,” he declares.

I take a bite of the food. “This is amazing,” I murmur.

“I have a friend who is a chef here. Called in a favor.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

Thor chuckles. “Well, I have ways of getting what I want.” The playful glint in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine, stirring a desire I never knew existed.

“You seem to have a lot of connections in Vegas for someone who's just here on business,” I observe, trying to piece together the puzzle of this man.

Thor's lips quirk into a half-smile. “I travel a lot for work. You learn to make friends in useful places.”

The way he deflects questions about his profession doesn't escape my notice. There's something guarded about him, walls carefully constructed to keep people at a distance. I recognize it because I've built similar barriers around myself.

He fills his plate and begins to eat. I take a few bites, the flavors exploding in my mouth. It takes everything I have not to devour it all like a starving beast in front of him.

“Is Thor your actual name?”

“No, it's not,” he confesses. “That's my road name.”

“Road name? Are you part of a motorcycle club or something?”

“Yes, I am,” Thor replies, stiffly. He takes a sip of his drink, maintaining eye contact. “I'm a member of the Heaven's Rejects Motorcycle Club.”

My jaw drops. “Hold on. You're serious? You're actually in a gang?”

“The Heaven’s Rejects isn’t a gang. We’re a brotherhood,” he answers sharply.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” I sputter.

“Don’t worry,” he assures me. “Being in a motorcycle club comes with a reputation that we’re all criminals. But there’s more to our lifestyle than what’s portrayed on screen.”

“I can imagine,” I reply, unsure of what else to say. I've only seen motorcycle clubs in movies and TV shows—dangerous men in leather doing illegal things. Thor doesn't seem to fit that stereotype, at least not entirely.

“My club has had its fair share of trouble in the past, but we’re trying to move forward. Our new path is why I’m in Vegas.”

“But how does a member of a motorcycle club end up saving a random girl like me?”

“You were caught in the middle of an unfathomable situation. Sitting aside and watching it happen wasn’t an option,” he explains before pausing. “You should know that I called in a favor to my club. Our tech guy is trying to identify the assholes who drugged you last night.”

A shiver runs down my spine as I imagine the danger I narrowly escaped. “Why would you do that? You did enough by getting us out of there.”

“Because men like that will try it again, and next time, someone may not be around to stop it.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

Thor reaches across the table and takes my hand gently in his callused one. “You don’t need to thank me, Charlotte. Your safety is important to me.”

His touch sends a shock wave of warmth through me, igniting a fiery desire that courses through my veins. The intimate rooftop setting feels like our own private world, shielding us from the chaos and noise of the city below.

“Why? We’re strangers.”

“I feel something between us,” Thor admits softly, breaking the silence. “Something powerful that goes beyond chance encounters.”

I swallow hard, feeling the same inexplicable pull toward this enigmatic man. “I feel it too,” I confess. “But...I don’t even know you.”

Thor’s grip on my hand tightens. “Then let me show you who I am,” he says, his voice dripping with raw desire.

Before I can respond, Thor leans across the table, his lips crashing into mine with an urgent hunger. The kiss is electrifying, igniting a fire within me that burns hotter than the dessert sun.

Time seems to stand still as we become lost in a world of desire and lust. His taste is intoxicating, blending the flavors of his drink and the tantalizing promise of something forbidden.

The rooftop transforms into our own private haven, where nothing else matters except for this moment shared between us.

As our kiss deepens, my body responds eagerly to his touch, craving more of his intoxicating presence.

With a low growl, Thor breaks our kiss and rises to his feet, catching me off guard.

In one swift motion, he sweeps me into his arms and carries me toward the edge of the rooftop.

I cling to him, the cool night air wrapping around us as he looks down at me—his eyes locked on mine, fierce and unwavering.