Page 108 of Thor

"Don't let that get around," I growled, guiding her toward my truck with a protective hand at the small of her back. "Bad for my reputation."

She laughed softly, leaning into me as we walked. "Your secret's safe with me."

In the parking lot, most of the cars had already gone, leaving only my truck, Duke's Challenger, and a handful of motorcycles belonging to club members still inside. I opened the passenger door for Mandy, helping her climb into the high cab—unnecessary given her athletic ability, but a gesture that satisfied both her Little side's need for care and my dominant need to provide it.

As I rounded the truck to the driver's side, I caught her watching me through the windshield, her eyes following my movements with unguarded appreciation. The look sent another jolt of heat through me. We'd been together for months now, but the desire between us hadn't dimmed—if anything, it had intensified as we learned each other's bodies, each other's needs.

I slid into the driver's seat, the truck's cabin immediately feeling smaller with my large frame inside it. Mandy had shifted to face me, her emerald eyes now dark with something beyond fatigue.

"Take me home, Daddy," she repeated, her voice lower, huskier than before. Her slender fingers reached across the console to rest on my thigh, the touch light but unmistakable in its intent. "I need you tonight."

Chapter 19

Mandy

TherumbleofThor'sHarley died beneath me as we pulled up to the cabin, golden moonlight filtering through pine trees like a blessing. I exhaled, letting the rigid posture I'd maintained all day during the business launch soften.

"We're here, princess," Thor said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my chest where it pressed against his back.

I'd been clinging to him the entire ride, my thighs squeezing his hips, my cheek pressed against the worn leather of his cut.

My emerald suit was wrinkled now, the pencil skirt hiked high on my thighs to accommodate straddling the bike. I didn't care.

Thor swung his leg over the bike, then turned to help me. His hands spanned my waist, fingers nearly meeting at my spine as he lifted me. I wasn't a small woman but Thor made me feel delicate. My feet touched the ground, but I kept my hands on his shoulders, reluctant to break contact.

"You're trembling," he said, brushing copper strands of hair from my face. His fingers were calloused but gentle, each touch precise – the hand of a mechanic who knew exactly how much pressure to apply.

"Just cold," I lied. We both knew it wasn't the night air making me shake.

Thor's eyes, blue as winter ice, saw through me completely. "You pushed yourself hard today. Proud of you."

His simple praise pierced me deeper than the flowery compliments my colleagues had showered me with. My throat tightened, and I found myself staring at his hands—those massive, skilled hands that contained such contradictions.

"Come inside." Thor took my hand, his fingers engulfing mine. "Got something for you."

I expected him to lead me to the bedroom, but instead, he opened the bathroom door. Steam billowed out, carrying the scent of lavender and something sweet I couldn't immediately identify. I gasped.

The claw-foot tub was filled with milky water, lavender bath bombs slowly dissolving into swirls of purple and blue. String lights had been hung from the ceiling, casting star-shaped patterns across the walls and water.

"Thor . . ." I whispered, unable to find words.

"Thought you might need to unwind," he said, his voice gentle but matter-of-fact, as if preparing such tenderness was nothing exceptional. "Let me help you."

His hands moved to my hair, finding the pins that secured my tight bun. One by one, he removed them, placing each on the counter with a tiny click. My scalp tingled as the pressure released, and I couldn't help the small moan that escaped my lips.

"Better?" he asked, running his fingers through my hair, working out the stiffness from being pinned up all day.

"God, yes." I leaned back against his chest, feeling the copper waves cascade down over my shoulders, falling nearly to my waist.

His hands moved to the buttons of my suit jacket, deftly unfastening each one. "You looked powerful today," he murmured near my ear. "Standing there in this suit, commanding the room. My strong girl."

My breath hitched. That was the magic of Thor—he saw no contradiction between my strength and my need to be small sometimes. He celebrated both.

The jacket slid from my shoulders, and he hung it carefully on the hook behind the door. His reverence for my professional armor touched me deeply. Next came the silk shell beneath, lifted over my head with such care that not a single strand of my hair caught.

I stood before him in my pencil skirt and emerald bra – the lingerie I'd chosen especially for tonight, knowing we'd end up here. The satin bows on the straps were a small nod to my Little side, while the push-up styling and matching thong beneath my skirt were all woman.

Thor's pupils dilated as he took me in, his breathing noticeably heavier. "Turn around," he instructed, voice dropping an octave.

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