Page 65 of When Annika Met Thom

When she realized he was trying to keep her from being disappointed, her heart melted. Unless he was a lot less impressive in bed than she imagined, that wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t want forever. She wanted right now.

She wanted to feel. She wanted to be touched and caressed and appreciated. She didn’t want to think about the future, much less forever, or any of that complicated stuff. She just wanted to feel those big hands on her skin.

It wasn’t an accident that she threw herself at him. She’d seen him looking. If his body was already on her side, she wasn’t afraid to use that against him.

And it worked. Annika knew the instant Thom surrendered. His arm locked around her waist, lifting her to her toes, and his other hand slid into her hair. He cradled her nape in his hand and bent to capture her mouth beneath his own. It was a good kiss, one that started slow then became demanding when she responded.

He was rock-solid and totally ripped. She could feel his abs through his T-shirt and his powerful thighs against her own. She could feel his erection, too, and rubbed herself against him, wanting all he had to give.

He groaned as his kiss deepened and he lifted her right off the ground. Annika felt as if she was floating, protected and cherished. His beard tickled, but his mouth was both soft and firm. When she slid her tongue into his mouth, he turned around, trapping her between the wall and his body, crushing her as his hands roved over her. He cupped one breast in his hand and played with her nipple through the cloth of her shirt, teasing it to a peak and then pinching it as she squirmed with pleasure. She’d never felt such a tidal wave of reaction and it only made her want more. Annika clenched two fistfuls of his hair, wrapped her legs around his waist and hung on.

Thom broke their kiss, his eyes glittering and his body taut. He slid his hands under the lapels of her jacket, holding her gaze as he pushed it over her shoulders. Annika was already undoing her pants and kicking off her shoes. Thom slid his hands up her bare thighs and under her shirt, pushing it over her head. She wanted to purr at the smooth heat of his hands sliding over her skin. She raised her hands over her head when he unfastened her bra and he bent to kiss her nipple slowly. He suckled it and teased it, grazing it with his teeth and flicking his tongue across the tight peak. Annika writhed against the wall, loving his every move. Slowly, deliberately, he did the same to the other nipple, until they were both so tight that she couldn’t stand it.

“If you stop now, I’ll kill you in your sleep,” she said and he smiled slowly.

He stepped back and unfastened his jeans, dropping them to the floor as his gaze simmered. His erection was straining against his briefs when he closed the distance between them, then he bracketed her waist in his hands and he surveyed her. Annika found herself blushing at his intense scrutiny, then smiling when he met her gaze with obvious satisfaction.

“Kryptonite,” he muttered inexplicably, then kissed her again. This kiss was a little rougher, a little hungrier, and completely thrilling. Annika would have been happy for that kiss to go on forever, but Thom had other ideas. He carried her to the bedroom and dropped her on the bed. He caught her face with one hand, those fingers splayed against her skin. He brushed his mouth across hers as if he couldn’t resist, then he was gone, leaving Annika leaning against the wall, every molecule on fire.

He strode back to the living room. Annika heard him put Percival’s cage in the bathroom, then speak to the dog. “No audience,” he told her and Annika smiled when she heard the tail thumping. He must have swept the food into the fridge in a hurry, then he was back, filling the door.

He leaned against the doorframe to survey her, his mouth curving in a smile of satisfaction. “Second thoughts?” he asked in that sexy low rumble and she shook her head with a smile. She handed him the box of condoms and watched his eyes darken.

Then he was in the bedroom, leaning back against the closed door. The lights were out and there was only a bit of illumination from the streetlights outside. Even so, Thom crossed the room and closed the blinds, securing them in a private sanctuary. Then he turned on a light on the nightstand, watching as her figure was lit.

“You like to look,” she guessed.

He shrugged as if that was self-evident.

“I like to look, too.”

He lifted a brow, then crossed his hands before himself and tugged his T-shirt over his head. She knew he had tattoos on his forearms, but now saw that his ink extended over his shoulders, across his back and his torso. The images overlapped and entangled with each other, becoming one coherent illustration that covered him like a second skin.

Fascinated, Annika went to stand beside him, then tentatively touched him with a fingertip. She traced the interlocking lines that ran from his wrist to his shoulder, following the intricate knots and the shape of a dragon on his bicep. She felt hard muscle beneath her fingertip the whole time. She traced over his shoulder and down his back, admiring the illustrations of creatures hidden within the knotwork. She found a wolf, a raven, another dragon, and the sliver of a moon. She found a bow and a golden chalice, a shadow of a woman and the rays of the sun. She traced over his other shoulder and down his other arm, then up that arm to finish at his heart. There was a green man there, ancient and wise, the tendrils of his long hair seeming to twist in a wind until they united with the spiraling knots. Or maybe they were the knots. Annika wasn’t sure.

“It’s amazing,” she whispered and Thom smiled.

“A lot of time on the table.”

“Is there more of it?” she tugged on his briefs and he took the cue, pushing them down and kicking them off. Annika stared. Gods were built like this. She ran her hand across his chest, almost unable to believe he was real, and decided to talk about the tattoos. “All done by one artist?”

“What do you think?” He was watching her closely, appreciation in his eyes.

Now that he was naked, she couldn’t doubt his interest in her. His sheer size made her feel fragile and delicate. Petite, even though she wasn’t that small. She tried to keep her mind on their conversation. “I think so. There’s a coherence about it, in the style and the composition.”

“Her name’s Chynna.”

He said the name with no particular inflection. Annika understood that they had no romantic relationship. “Are you friends?” she asked, teasing him, but he shook his head.

“I’m a client.”

With this much ink, Annika doubted that Chynna saw Thom as just a client but she wasn’t going to argue.

She had a zillion questions. She knew that asking would fulfil Thom’s expectations, but Annika wanted to know everything about him, immediately, not for the sake of a joined future but simply because he fascinated her. “Did you plan it all out in advance?”

“A lot of it. Some just came together.”

“It’s wonderful.” She smiled up at him. “It makes you into a work of art.”

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