Laughing, she beamed at him, the smile washing away any lasting sorrow.
“I like that.”
He groaned as she threaded her fingers through his hair, loosening it from its braid.
“You like it, huh? Well, I love it,” he said. “I love you.”
She tensed, gasping, her eyes wide with wonder and surprise. They turned heavy quickly, though, shining with unspoken emotion.
“You love me?”
“More than any fucking thing on this earth. I will love you, adore you, and live for you until Ragnarok.” The end of days. And beyond.
He kissed her then, taking her mouth. Their tongues dueled, sliding over one another, stroking, tasting. Breathless, they pulled apart.
“What about you, Goddess? You love me, too?” He already knew the answer, could see it in her face, the way she was molding herself to him, desperate to touch all of him at once. Just as he was with her.
“Love isn’t a strong enough word for what I feel for you, my Odin.”
Fuck yeah!
Finally, he had everything he could ever want—except kids. But he was going to work on that as soon as she agreed to toss her pills. He was confident he could convince her the moment he got inside her again.
“I’m so fucking happy, baby.”
“You think the club will accept me?” Did she sound…uncertain? Hells, he couldn’t have that.
“Baby, after last night, those men will follow you to the depths of hell and back. Besides, you make me happy, and they want that for me. They aren’t just my club, they’re my brothers.”
“I like that. And I love you.”
“And I love you.” He flipped her on to her back, slamming his mouth to hers, his hands memorizing her. He loved and adored everything about her, his woman, and he spent the rest of the day proving it to her.
The king of the savages found his queen.
Long may they reign.
Waving a quick greeting at Thor, the bar manager, Hawk strode across the scratched, dinged, and gouged hardwood floor of the bar and snatched the tumbler right out of Grimm’s hand, tossing back the liquid inside without taking a breath.
“The fuck?” Grimm barked, standing so quickly his chair slid back, slamming into the wall behind him. The mountain-sized ginger narrowed his unearthly silver eyes at Hawk, who simply shrugged. “What the fuck is wrong with you, brother? You know better than to take another man’s drink. Especially his top shelf Irish whisky.” The asshole was actually pouting? Grumbling, the man returned to his seat, but not before snatching the now empty tumbler from Hawk’s grip.
Fuck that shit.
Expensive or not, Hawk needed that drink—hard and fast. The burn was so, so good…but it did nothing to burn off the confusion and frustration burrowing into his bones.
The night hadn’t gone as he’d hoped. Not even a little. And it didn’t sit right with him.
The woman he’d been dreaming of, obsessing over, and fantasizing about for over a year…wasn’t what he’d been expecting.
That, coupled with the shit going on with the club, and Hawk was ‘bout ready to find himself at the bottom of a bottle. Fuck tomorrow. He was getting shitty tonight.
Months ago, after Trucker’s betrayal and subsequent death, his position in the club was void, leaving the Sergeant-at-Arms position open. One Church meeting later, the club unanimously voted to bring Hawk in to the position, lifting him from brother to officer. It had been one hell of an honor, one he didn’t take lightly. He’d work his ass off to make his prez and his brothers proud.
Fang appeared, slapping Hawk on the back, and taking one of the two empty seats at the table. Hawk was surprised Fang wasn’t at home with his harem of women, getting his cock sucked, his dinner made, and his feet rubbed. The man had five girlfriends, all perfectly happy to share him.
Hawk didn’t even want one. But…then he imagined her.
Aoibheal. The musician, the songstress, the mystery. The woman millions around the world clamored for, so much so, she finally decided to perform a reveal concert where her fans would finally see her face, see her live. She was a woman he’d pictured in his head for so long, and tonight, he’d gotten the opportunity to meet her. To see her face, to hear her speak his name, to touch her, to inhale her scent on his nose.
