Page 11

His hands tightened on my waist, drawing me closer to the edge of the counter until we were pressed together, my legs wrapped around his hips. Even through our clothes, I could feel how much he wanted me. The hard length of him pressed against my core, sending sparks of pleasure radiating through me.

I threaded my fingers through his hair, pulling it free from its tie. The blond strands fell around his face, softening the hard angles. I tugged gently, guiding his mouth back to mine, suddenly desperate to taste him again.

Our lips met in a clash of need—no gentleness now, just raw desire. My hands explored the broad expanse of his shoulders, the corded muscles of his back, learning him by touch. His did the same, sliding under the hem of my shirt to find bare skin.

When his calloused palms made contact with the sensitive skin of my lower back, I arched into him with a moan. Thor took advantage, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down my throat to my collarbone.

"Tell me what you want," he rasped against my skin. "Tell me what you need, baby girl."

The endearment—so casual, so perfect—broke something open inside me. All the walls I'd built, all the compartments I'd created to keep the different parts of myself separate, came crashing down. With Thor, I didn't have to choose. I could be everything, all at once.

"You," I said simply, my voice cracking with emotion. "Just you. Inside me."

His eyes, when they met mine, held understanding beyond words. He knew what I was giving him—not just my body, but my trust. The trust to see all of me and still want me.

Thor's forehead pressed against mine, our breathing syncing as we both tried to regain control. His hands slid back to safer territory, resting on my jean-clad thighs.

"If we keep going," he said, his voice rough as gravel, "I won't want to stop."

I nodded, understanding the warning. "I know."

"And I want to do this right," he continued. "Not rush it. Not when it matters this much. I have to do it right."

A part of me wanted to argue, to pull him back to me and damn the consequences. But the larger part—the part that had waited my whole life to be understood like this—knew he was right. This wasn't just physical attraction. It was the foundation of something deeper, something that deserved care and attention.

"Okay," I whispered, swallowing my disappointment. "You're right."

Thor's smile was gentle but tinged with regret. "Don't look at me like that. It's taking everything I have not to carry you to my bedroom right now."

Heat rushed to my face at the image his words conjured—his large body covering mine, those capable hands exploring every inch of me. I squirmed slightly on the counter, and Thor's grip on my thighs tightened in warning.

"Not helping," he growled.

I laughed softly, surprised to find joy bubbling up alongside the desire. "Sorry. Not sorry."

Thor shook his head, but he was smiling too. "You're trouble, Amanda Wright."

"You have no idea," I replied, feeling bold in a way I never had before. With Thor, I could be playful, flirtatious—another side of myself I rarely showed.

He helped me down from the counter, his hands lingering on my waist. The kitchen felt too small suddenly, charged with energy we were both trying to contain.

"So what now?" I asked, smoothing my hair back into some semblance of order.

"Now, we slow down," Thor suggested, though his hands still on my waist like he couldn't bring himself to let go. "Go somewhere public. Actually talk this through before we get carried away." I nodded reluctantly, even as every cell in my body protested the idea of putting space between us. His thumb traced small circles against my hip, contradicting his words.

"Where did you have in mind?" I asked, stepping back to create some much-needed space between us. My body still hummed with the aftershocks of our kiss, like a tuning fork that had been struck and wouldn't stop vibrating.

"King's Tavern," Thor said, reaching for his leather cut hanging on a hook by the door. "Neutral ground."

I raised an eyebrow. "A Heavy Kings bar is neutral ground?"

Thor's mouth quirked up at one corner. "It's club ground, which means I won't be tempted to show you exactly what I've been thinking about for weeks." He shrugged on his cut, instantly transforming from the gentle man who'd held me to the intimidating Sergeant-at-Arms. "Not with the brothers watching."

The promise in his words sent heat spiraling through me again. I cleared my throat. "Let me change first. I can't go out in your t-shirt."

Twenty minutes later, I'd showered quickly and changed back into my clothes from yesterday—jeans and a simple blouse that felt too formal for a biker bar but were all I had.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Thor was waiting by the door, keys in hand. He looked me up and down slowly, his eyes darkening. "Ready?"

I nodded, suddenly nervous. This would be our first time in public together—not as the club's accountant and Sergeant-at-Arms, but as . . . whatever we were becoming.

The ride to King's Tavern was short but exhilarating. I wrapped my arms around Thor's waist, pressed against his broad back as the motorcycle rumbled beneath us. The vibrations and Thor's solid presence combined into a heady mixture that left me breathless by the time we arrived.

Friday night had turned King's Tavern into a hive of activity. Motorcycles lined the parking lot, alongside pickup trucks and a few sedans belonging to regulars. Music and laughter spilled out each time the door opened. I'd been here before on club business, but always during quieter hours, never when it was this lively.

Thor cut the engine and helped me off the bike with a steadying hand. "Stay close," he said, his voice shifting into something more authoritative. This was his territory, and I could see the subtle change in his posture—shoulders squaring, chin lifting slightly. The club's Sergeant-at-Arms had returned.

Yet when his hand came to rest on the small of my back as he guided me toward the entrance, it was with the same gentleness he'd shown in private. That hand remained as we entered the bar, a warm, steady pressure that somehow made me feel both protected and claimed.

The crowd parted for Thor automatically. Nods of respect, raised glasses, and a few curious glances at me accompanied our progress through the packed room. I felt the weight of those stares—club members and their women, wondering what I was doing with their enforcer.

It was a thrill to be with someone who commanded so much respect.

Thor led me to a booth in the corner, partially secluded but with a clear view of the room—a habit of vigilance I'd noticed in him before. He signaled to the bartender, who nodded in acknowledgment.

"You come here often?" I asked, trying for humor to mask my nervousness.

Thor's laugh was unexpected and rich. "You using pickup lines on me now, Wright?"

I felt heat rise to my cheeks.

The bartender appeared at our table, setting down a whiskey neat for Thor without asking. Then he placed a drink I hadn't ordered in front of me—a chocolate martini, complete with a dusting of cocoa powder on top.

I looked up in surprise.

"Thanks, Jake," Thor said, dismissing the bartender with a nod.

"To new beginnings," Thor said, raising his glass to mine.

"New beginnings," I echoed, clinking my martini against his whiskey. The chocolate was rich and velvety, with an undercurrent of alcohol that warmed my throat.

We sat in companionable silence for a moment, the bustling activity of the bar washing around us like we were stones in a stream.

"So," I finally said, setting my glass down. "Let's talk practicalities."

Thor nodded, his expression growing more serious. "Smart. That's what I like about you. Always thinking ahead."

"How would it work? With the club and everything."

Thor took a sip of whiskey, considering. "Within the club, there's respect for relationships. If we're together, you'd have certain... protections. Status."

"As your old lady?" I asked, the biker terminology feeling strange on my tongue.

"Eventually, if that's where this goes." Thor's gaze was steady. "But we'd take it slow. Date properly first."

I couldn't help but smile at that. "The big, bad Sergeant-at-Arms wants to date properly?"

"Don't let the cut fool you," Thor said, his voice dropping lower. "Momma raised me right. And something this important deserves to be done properly."

The sincerity in his voice sobered me. "What about my work? For the club, I mean."

"Nothing changes there," Thor said firmly. "You're damn good at what you do. The club needs your skills. That stands separate."

I nodded, relieved. "And my regular job? That's important to me, Thor. I've worked hard to get where I am."

"I'd never ask you to give that up," he said. "Your career matters. That's part of who you are."

Another weight lifted from my shoulders. So many men I'd dated had been intimidated by my career focus, had tried to make me smaller to soothe their egos.

"What about your responsibilities?" I asked. "Being Sergeant-at-Arms isn't exactly a nine-to-five job."

Thor's expression turned more guarded. "No, it's not. There will be times I can't tell you everything. Times I'll be called away with no notice." He hesitated, then continued more quietly, "Times I might come home with blood on my knuckles. Can you handle that?"

The blunt question hung between us. I appreciated his honesty, even as it forced me to confront realities I'd been avoiding.

"I don't need to know all the details," I said slowly. "But I'd need honesty about the big things. And I'd need to know you're coming home."

Thor's hand found mine across the table, his large fingers enveloping mine. "I can promise that. Always."

I took another sip of my martini, letting the sweetness and alcohol bolster my courage. "And what about . . . the other part? The DDLG thing. How public would that be?"

"As private as you want," Thor said immediately. "That's between us. No one else's business."

Relief washed through me. "Not even the club?"

Thor shook his head. "Especially not the club. They know better than to pry into my personal life." A hint of that dangerous edge crept into his voice. "And anyone who disrespected you would answer to me."

I believed him completely. There was something deeply reassuring about knowing Thor would protect not just my physical safety but my dignity and privacy as well.

"Thank you for suggesting this," I said, gesturing to our surroundings. "Coming here, I mean. Talking through the practical stuff before..."

"Before we ended up in my bed?" Thor supplied, his bluntness making me blush despite our earlier activities.

"Yeah. That." I took another quick sip of my drink.

Thor's thumb traced patterns on the back of my hand, his touch deceptively casual but sending shivers up my arm. "Like I said, I want to do this right. You're too important to rush."

The simple statement, delivered in his gruff voice amid the chaos of a rowdy biker bar, might have been the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me. Not because it was poetic or flowery, but because it was real.

"I'm glad we're doing this," I admitted quietly. "Getting to know each other properly, I mean."

Thor's smile transformed his face, softening the hard lines and lighting his eyes. "Me too, Mandy. Me too."

I was in the middle of explaining my bookkeeping system for the tattoo parlor when a shadow fell across our table. I looked up to find a man I didn't recognize—young, maybe mid-twenties, with a prospect cut and a cocky smile that tried too hard. His dark hair was slicked back, and a fresh tattoo crept up his neck like ivy climbing a wall. He had the rangy build of someone who hadn't quite grown into their strength yet, nothing like Thor's solid presence.

Thor tensed beside me, subtle but unmistakable. His posture shifted from relaxed to alert in an instant.

"Bones," Thor acknowledged, his voice neutral but with an undercurrent of warning. "Need something?"

The prospect—Bones, apparently—kept his eyes on me, ignoring Thor's question. "You're the accountant, right? The one who does the books for Lena's shop too?" His gaze traveled from my face down to my chest in a way that made my skin crawl.

"Amanda Wright," I said coolly, not offering my hand. "And yes, I handle the finances for Marked Kings."

"Thought so," Bones said, his smile widening. "Heard you were smart. Didn't hear you were so fine, though."

I felt Thor go completely still beside me, the kind of stillness that precedes violence. I placed my hand on his thigh under the table, a silent request for restraint.

"Thank you for the compliment," I said, my professional voice firmly in place. "Was there something you needed help with?"

Bones slid uninvited into our booth, forcing me to scoot closer to Thor to avoid contact. The prospect either didn't notice or deliberately ignored the dangerous energy radiating from Thor.

"Thor's been keeping you all to himself," Bones said, leaning across the table toward me. His breath smelled of beer and cigarettes. "How about I show you what a younger ride feels like? Bet I could make you forget all about the old man here."

The temperature of the air around us seemed to drop ten degrees. I felt my mouth fall open at the audacity—not just disrespecting me, but openly challenging Thor in his own territory. It was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. I was betting on the latter.

Before I could respond, I witnessed something remarkable. Thor didn't explode. He didn't grab Bones by the throat or flip the table over. Instead, he underwent a transformation more frightening for its restraint. His entire demeanor shifted. He didn't move a muscle, and yet suddenly he exuded a controlled power that filled the space around us like a physical force.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet. Deceptively conversational. "She's mine."

Two simple words. No threats, no posturing. Just an undeniable statement of fact that left no room for argument.

The effect was immediate. Bones' cocky smile faltered, then disappeared entirely as the blood drained from his face. He looked at Thor—really looked at him—for the first time since approaching our table.

"I didn't know, man," he stammered, raising his hands in surrender. "No disrespect meant."

"Now you know," Thor said, still in that eerily calm voice. "And disrespect was exactly what you meant. You’re lucky I’m with a lady. You better not make that mistake again."

Bones scrambled out of the booth so quickly he nearly tripped over his own feet. "Sorry. Sorry, Thor. Won't happen again." He backed away, bumping into two other club members who watched the exchange with interested expressions.

I turned to Thor with wide eyes. "Yours?" The word came out somewhere between a question and a challenge, my heart pounding so hard I was certain he could hear it over the bar's noise.

Thor's expression softened as he looked at me, the dangerous energy receding like a tide pulling back from shore. He took my hand, engulfing it in his much larger one.

"If you want to be," he said, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my palm.

My pulse thundered in my ears. There was something both terrifying and exhilarating about that simple statement. Claiming and offering all at once.

"I don't want to dance around this, Mandy. It’s not my style," Thor continued, his voice dropped low for my ears only. The sounds of the busy bar faded to background noise as I focused entirely on his words.

"I want to be your Daddy. Your protector. Your safe place." His blue eyes held mine, unwavering and earnest. "I want to hold you when you're small and stand beside you when you're conquering the world. I want all of you—the accountant, the Little, and everything in between."

Tears pricked at my eyes, hot and unexpected.

No one had ever offered me this before.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice stronger than I expected. "I want that too. I want to be yours."

Thor's smile transformed his usually serious face, lighting his eyes and softening the hard angles of his features. It was like watching the sun break through storm clouds—unexpected and all the more beautiful for its rarity.

He leaned across the table, one large hand coming up to cup my cheek. Around us, the bar continued its rowdy Friday night chaos, but in our corner, time seemed to suspend.

"Sure about this?" he asked, giving me one last chance to reconsider. "Once I claim you properly, everyone will know. No going back."

I nodded, beyond words. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to belong to this man who saw all of me and found value in every part.

Thor's kiss was gentle, almost reverent—a stark contrast to the heated exchange in his kitchen earlier. This wasn't about passion or desire, though those undercurrents remained. This was a promise, a sealing of our agreement.

When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with emotion. "My good girl," he murmured against my lips, his voice a rough caress.

The simple praise seeped into me like warm honey, settling in places that had been cold and empty for so long. Two sides of me—professional Amanda and little Mandy—both glowed under his approval. For the first time, I didn't feel torn between my different needs and desires. With Thor, I could be whole.

"So what now?" I asked, my voice slightly shaky.

“Now . . . we need a contract.”