Page 21

21

HUNTER

S he’s curled against me, her leg draped over mine, breath warm on my chest. One of her hands is still resting on my ribs, like she’s unconsciously staking her claim.

I stare at the ceiling of the cab, one arm tucked behind my head. The candle went out long ago. It’s pitch black. Quiet, except for the occasional chirp of some late-night bug just outside the truck walls.

And her breathing. Even, peaceful.

I should be sleeping too. But I can’t stop watching her. Can’t stop feeling her. The weight of her against me. The trust in the way she fell asleep on my chest. The image of her blindfolded body burned into my mind.

God help me—I think I’m in trouble.

The kind of trouble that makes you rethink everything. The kind of trouble that makes you imagine a life instead of a weekend.

I don’t even know what her favorite breakfast is, or what her laugh sounds like in the morning, or what kind of music she plays when she’s mad—but I want to. I want all of it. Every messy, beautiful part of her.

I run my hand down her bare back. Her skin is warm. Smooth.

She sighs in her sleep and presses closer.

And I realize something with startling clarity:

I’m not pretending anymore.

Not playing a part.

I’m not just Thor to her now.

I’m me .

And I’ve never wanted to be known by someone so badly in my life.

She stirs.

Shit.

I freeze for a second as her hand twitches against my chest. Then her body shifts slightly, her head lifting the smallest bit like she might be waking.

Nope. Not yet. Not like this.

Carefully, I tighten my arm around her waist and roll her over so her back is to me. Her hair spills across the pillow. I nuzzle in close behind her, my mouth brushing the shell of her ear.

“You awake?” I murmur.

A sleepy hum. “Mmm. Maybe.”

“You good?”

She nods, then lets out a low, satisfied sigh. “More than good.”

We lie like that for a moment, my hand lazily tracing the dip of her waist. Her skin’s still warm from sleep and sex and all the things in between. My cock stirs again just from touching her, but I don’t press it—yet.

“Is this really the back of a truck?” she whispers. “Or did I dream this whole thing?”

“You’re not dreaming.” I chuckle. “Need me to pinch you?”

“Well damn. This is the nicest damn truck I’ve ever been in. And no thank you.”

“Custom build. My buddy helped me get it done.”

She lets out a soft laugh. “I’ve now a fully tricked-out semi truck. I’m really branching out. I’m becoming a different girl.”

I lean in, pressing a kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “You are. You’re my girl tonight.”

She goes quiet at that. For just a second.

“So…do truck drivers always look like Greek gods?”

“Only the undercover ones,” I tease, lips brushing her shoulder again.

Another pause.

“Can I ask you something personal?” she says.

“Anything.”

“Seriously. How the hell are you so muscular when you’re on the road all the time? Like…do you bench press tires at rest stops or something?”

I laugh. “Close. I carry my own weights. Keep a pull-up bar mounted in the cab. And I do a lot of pushups when I’m killing time waiting on cargo.”

She turns her head just enough to peer back at me, only barely. “Show-off.”

“You asked.”

A beat passes, then her voice drops—lower, silkier.

“So…”

I grin, sensing the shift. “So?”

“If I said…just do me from behind…right now…”

My cock stiffens immediately. “You mean like a true depraved truck stop fantasy?”

“I mean…it’d be rude not to put all this space to use.” Her voice is teasing, breathy. “And I did tell my friend I might be limping tomorrow…”

I groan. “Jesus, woman.”

She giggles, wiggling her hips against me. “Come on. One more for the road?”

I palm her hip, my hand already sliding low. “You’re insatiable.”

She purrs. “Takes one to know one, Thor.”

And God help me, I’m already gone again.

She wiggles against me again, teasing, testing. And yeah, I’m hard as hell, pressed up against her ass, but I don’t move to act on it. Not yet.

“Careful,” I murmur, brushing her hair off her shoulder. “You keep doing that and I’m gonna forget how to be a gentleman.”

She giggles. “I didn’t know truckers came with a gentleman mode.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

She stretches, arms above her head, spine arching just enough to make me clench my jaw. “Mmm,” she sighs. “Is it weird that I don’t want to get out of this truck? Like, ever?”

“Not weird at all.”

Silence for a beat. Just the soft breath of morning pressing against the walls of the truck, her body so close, too warm, too tempting.

Then she says, “So…are you ever going to tell me what you look like?”

I stiffen slightly. Her head tilts back toward me like she’s trying to read my expression. I’m glad she can’t.

“Eventually,” I say. “Just not yet.”

“Why not?”

I hesitate. “Because once you see me… everything might change.”

She’s quiet.

Then: “Is that a confession or a warning?”

“Maybe both.”

Another pause.

“What’s your worst-case scenario here?” she asks. “That I scream and run out of the truck because you’re hideous? That I find out you’re secretly my cousin or something?”

I groan. “God, please don’t say that.”

She laughs. “Well, you already told me you’re not married, not diseased, and not a murderer. So unless you’re my long-lost algebra tutor or secretly in witness protection, I think I can handle it.”

I rest my hand gently on her hip. “I believe you.”

“But?”

“But I don’t want you to see me and suddenly stop seeing this. ” I exhale, quieter now. “I haven’t felt like myself in a long time. With you, like this, it’s the first time I have.”

She goes still. Then she whispers, “You could have the face of a goat and I’d still want your voice in my ear.”

I smile, aching.

“That’s a first.”

She reaches behind her, fingers slipping between my thighs, wrapping lightly around me.

“Mmm. And then there’s this. Hard again already…”

I groan, jaw tightening. “You’re not helping.”

She strokes me once, lazily, teasing. “Just checking. For science.”

I catch her hand gently, stilling it. “Luna…”

“Yeah?” she breathes, not pulling away.

I press a kiss to the back of her shoulder. “If we go again, I want it to be when I can look you in the eyes. Not like this.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then, her voice, softer now. “Wow. That’s… surprisingly romantic for a guy who tied me up and called me his little goddess just a few hours ago.”

“Multitudes,” I murmur into her skin. “I contain them.”

She laughs—quiet, low, warm. Then she shifts back, pressing her spine fully to my chest. Her fingers slide up to lace through mine.

“So no round two?” she whispers.

“Not yet.”

Another beat of quiet. Then she says, “You really are something, Thor.”

I hold her a little tighter.

God help me.

She still thinks I’m Thor.

But for now, I let the moment last.

Because I know that once morning comes?—

Everything changes.