Freaking demigod, lord of the vegetables.
Is this how Zeus could disguise himself as all those weird things and still seduce mortal women? Swan? Ant? Golden shower? Come on, Danae. Seriously? How? Stop. No woman in her right mind is going to look at a swan and think, I must have you now. Get in my pants.
Only she was probably wearing a dress. Or a toga. Argh!
My namesake turned herself into a tree to avoid Apollo’s unwanted advances. Girlfriend wasn’t playing when he refused to accept she wasn’t interested.
Reaching across the truck’s console, Odin squeezes my thigh. “Are you okay?”
“All good. Why?” Realizing I’m clenching my jaw, I smooth my face into a pleasant expression.
“You were breathing kind of strange.”
“Hmm. Was I?” I cock my head.
“What should we do with our wide-open day?” He stops at the end of the overgrown logging road and gives me his full attention. “Breakfast at Daisy’s?”
Silently, we stare at each other for a few seconds. The air crackles with sexual tension.
“How long does it take to get to the farm?” I lean over and kiss him.
I think my cabin is closer but it’s also closer to neighbors, who happen to all be my coworkers. I am not okay with anyone interrupting us by knocking on my door.
He smiles against my lips. “Daphne?”
“Mmm,” I hum.
“Might be easier to drive if we’re not making out.” He chuckles.
“Right.” I continue what I was doing.
He indulges me, sweeping his tongue against mine as his hand comes up to kiss my face.
The kissing doesn’t help relieve the ache, merely fanning the flames. With an exasperated sigh, I pull myself away from him.
With a quick bob of his head, he says, “Right. Let’s go back to my place.”
Patsy’s in her pen and Roman stands on the porch when we arrive at the farm.
“Don’t you have work to do?” I ask Odin as we exit the truck.
“Already finished up most of today’s projects.” He slips his arm around my shoulder.
“You were at my place by 7:30.” I gape at him. “What time do you get up?”
“Early.” He guides us in the direction of the house.
Roman stretches into a perfect downward dog before giving himself a shake. I don’t care what Odin says—he’s a doodle. I think whoever sold him the dog played him. Still, he’s adorable and wags his tail, happy to see us.
We enter the house, Odin takes my jacket, and we kick off our shoes, leaving them on the boot tray next to the door. Then we stand there, surrounded by nervous excitement—at least I am. All my bravado faded during the drive.
“Something to drink?” he offers.
“Water would be great. Thanks.”
He pours two glasses and gives me one. With his free hand, he clasps mine and leads me over to the couch. It’s rich, worn brown leather. We sink into the soft cushions, me in the corner and him next to me. I down my water in a few long chugs, nerves or dehydration making me thirsty.
“You’re too far away.” He sets his still full tumbler down on the wooden trunk that serves as his coffee table.
“I’m right here.” I rest my hand on his arm.
“Not close enough.” He tugs me onto his lap. “Better.”
Gazing down at him from this new angle, I slide my hands through his waves. Long hair on guys has never been my thing, but I like the wild mess, more benign neglect than a willful attempt at style.
His fingers grip and flex on my hips.
“I like this.” I tug on a strand.
“My hair?”
Nodding, I tip his head back. He lets me.
I pet his facial hair. “And the beard.”
His almost-too-wide-for-his-face mouth curves with amusement. “You sound surprised.”
“I am.”
“Bearded hillbilly not your type?” His smile fades.
“I don’t think I have one.”
“What about Norse gods and superheroes?” He bites his bottom lip.
My eyes flash to his.
“You called me Vegetable Thor in the woods.”
My lids close automatically, my body shielding me from the embarrassment of having to face him.
“It beats the Jolly Green Giant.” I feel his laughter shake his chest.
Bravely, I open my eyes. “I never said you were …” Did I think it, though? Yes.
“No, you didn’t, but others have. I’m not that tall.”
“Or green,” I reassure him.
“Sadly, only my thumbs.” He sticks them both up to show me.
Without thought, I lift his hand to my chest, and the energy between us switches from flirty nonsense to charged.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Odin
I’m not certain who initiates the kiss, but her hands find their way back into my hair and mine rest on the round swell of her chest. Straddling me, she’s in control, swaying in a rhythm on my lap, grinding her hips over my thickening cock. The friction creates a sweet agony.
I tug the neck of her shirt to allow my mouth more access to her skin. My fingers skate above the waist of her jeans, brushing against her softness. Breathless moans fill her kisses as my own breathing goes shallow, my hands cupping and squeezing her breasts through her bra.
Breaking our connection, she asks, “Should I take off my shirt?”
“Only if you want to.” Restraint leaves my voice ragged.
“Or you could do it.” She lifts her arms and waits.
Her tee hits the ground in a flash, leaving her in only a cream, lace bra.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I whisper into her shoulder as I drag my mouth over her warm skin. “I want to be clear you want this as much as I do. I’ll stop if you ask me to. Just say the word.”
Gripping my jaw, she tilts my head up and confirms I’m looking at her before she answers. “I’m sure. Don’t stop. Please, for the love of all that is holy and good in the world, do not stop.”
I brush my mouth against hers before sliding my tongue inside. She moans and grinds her hips.
“I want to make you feel good. Tell me what you like.” I nip her bottom lip and tug gently while my hands guide her into a rhythm.
“Take off your pants, Odin.”
Chuckling against her neck, I take a moment to appreciate a woman who’s direct.
“I’m serious.” Her tone emphasizes her words.
“I don’t doubt that. Wrap your arms around my neck.” When she complies, I slide my hands under her ass and stand. “Hold on.”
With her legs embracing my hips and her arms coiled around my shoulders, I march down the hall to my bedroom. I built the simple frame from reclaimed wood I found on the property. Nothing fancy, but the king mattress will give us more room than the couch.
I set her down on her feet and kneel to remove her jeans and then her socks. Standing back up, I admire her body, highlighted only by her bra and underwear. Using the tips of my fingers, I trace the fabric. She shivers and tries to cover her chest.
“Don’t be shy. Don’t deny me the beauty of your body.” I drag her underwear down her legs, leaving a trail of kisses in my wake.