Page 40 of Savage King

It only took a moment to realize what she was looking at.

And it only took her another moment to decide she’d really made a mistake coming here.

I’m such a fool!

Throwing back his third shot of Patron, Odin glared down at the party from his perch on the balcony overlooking the wide-open space below him. Usually, the space was full of reclining couches, naked women, and a sturdy stripper pole where the sex workers could work their wares and find daddies for the night. Tonight, though, the place looked like a mockery of blowhards and bitches, all hoping to grab his cock and ask for favors.

That’s why he fucking hated coming to events like this. It wasn’t him. He was the president of a motorcycle club. He wore tore up jeans, t-shirts, and motorcycle boots. He rode a Harley with the throttle down, not a Rolls-Royce with shiny wood inlays and fancy GPS. He preferred Rob Zombie crooning about a tricked-out devil car than Michael Buble crooning about some bitch crying him a river.

Too bad being the MC prez meant he needed to be seen to make sure his legit businesses stayed in the money, because it made sure he and his brothers were making bank and livin’ large. As they deserved.

So why was he hiding out upstairs rather than mingling with the walking cocks and wallets? Because…he fucking missed his woman.

Fuck. He was turning into a pussy.

If Trouble could see his thoughts, the man would crow his ass off and hire a skywriter to tell everyone that Odin had gotten himself pussy whipped. But it wasn’t even the first taste of Skathi that had done it—he’d been a goner the moment he’d set eyes on Skathi.

Now, after spending time with her, making love with her, and earning her smiles and laughter, and sharing in her day to day joys…he knew, without a doubt, he was in love with her. Probably had been since that first glance, but he was too focused on getting her into bed to realize she’d slipped right into his heart. He had to tell her, and he would…if she came.

“Odin,” a sultry voice purred, “I am so glad you could come this evening.” Bonnie, dressed to kill in evening wear that could double as lingerie, slunk toward him, swaying her hips, thrusting out her tits, and pursing her lips. She was done up and ready to throw down—it just wouldn’t be with him.

He grabbed another shot of Patron off the tray of a roving waiter and threw it back. He’d need to be drunk to deal with Bonnie tonight. Stopping just beside him, Bonnie pressed a kiss to Odin’s chin in greeting, sliding her lips down to his neck and giving his pulse point a lick.

He jerked back. At least hethoughthe had. His big body was warm, and getting warmer, and his head was all sorts of fuzzy. Maybe drinking four shots so close together on an empty stomach wasn’t such a good idea. Usually, he’d have a few beers and a shot or two of whiskey throughout the night, but tonight the need for something harder had called to him, and he’d answered that call one after the other.

Tequila made people do stupid shit. Like drink more tequila.

A hand with golden tips slid up his abs to his chest, a nail clipping his nipple, making him hiss. Another hand slid the opposite direction, molding over his crotch and squeezing.

Shit. Despite the fuzziness in his brain, his lower head was wide awake, thickening in his pants.

No…he didn’t want that. His goddess was coming…she was. She had to come. He needed her there, needed her to stand beside him. She’d make the evening bearable, and then he could take her to one of the rooms in the back and show her something new.

At the images rushing through his head, his cock responded. The thoughts of Skathi and the hand on his dick did a number to his system.

Shit…he was in trouble. He didn’t want to be aroused around Bonnie, especially when she’d think she was the reason. But…he couldn’t open his mouth and speak.

Damn…he shouldn’t have pre-partied with Fang and Dragon—those beers at the club house were meant to grease the wheels of a shitty evening…but then he got to the bordello and started hitting the hard shit. Damn, again.

Shake it off. Get your fucking head together. Both of them!

“Odin…I am so, so glad you came. You and me…we need to show the patrons of Sex & Candy that the President of the Savage Raiders and I are a united powerhouse, king and queen of carnality, bringing in only the best flesh and pleasure for their enjoyment.”

Bonnie’s words sounded good—he wanted to satisfy the bordello clients, but he didn’t understand how he and Bonnie clinging to one another at the party would do any good.

King and queen….Those words meant something to him, but why was Bonnie talking about it? She wasn’t Skathi.

Swallowing, he set the shot glass on the wide railing and sucked in a breath. He needed to think clearly.

Where the fuck was Trouble?

“Don’t you think?” Bonnie asked, oblivious to the fact that he hadn’t been listening.

“Now’s not the time, Bonnie.” He couldn’t think about business when all he wanted to do was get the hell out of there, hop on his ride, and fly the fuck to his woman’s house. Why hadn’t she come?

He needed her there.

“Now is the perfect time, Odin. You need me, I’ve been an asset to you, bringing in millions of dollars a month to the club. I am the first and only old lady, and I know that you and I could be more. We both deserve more.” Bold as shit, Bonnie pressed her tits into his chest and kissed him square on the mouth.

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