32. Odin
CHAPTER 32
ODIN
“That was intense.” After we fucked, I dragged Thora down the hall to the bathroom and ordered her to get into the giant whirlpool tub, where I can dangle one leg out the side and pull her between my legs so she’s lying back against my chest while the water swirls around us.
“Mmm. I liked it.” Her eyes are closed, and she lets me play with her tits all I want, which is constantly. I could lie here like this for hours, a gorgeous woman in my lap, rock-hard nipples in my palms. “Where did you get cake-flavored lube?”
I shrug, adjusting my weight so I can shut off the water with my good foot. “It was in the basket. I don’t ask questions. Maybe Stellan added that one.”
She shifts so she can see me, resting her cheek on my chest, which also feels awesome. “Did you take the whole basket?”
“I dumped and ran, baby.” She laughs. I kiss the top of her head like I’m allowed to do that. Like she’s mine. Except I know she’s not. We’re here right now because she took a big step on a journey that’s leading her far away from me. But I don’t want to think about that right now .
She settles back in between my legs. I should be alarmed that I’m not getting wood again, but I came harder than I ever did in my life, so I’ll chalk it up as a win if I can get there again after dinner. “So, I’ve seen the couch and the bathroom. You’re telling me the other floors of this place are even nicer?”
“The nicest. You can go look around later. I’m going to cook dinner, and that’ll take a while.”
Thora sits up, and I hate it, so I pull her back, wanting her soft skin against me. “Odin,” she says, “I’m not going to wander around your family’s house without you.”
I run my fingers through her hair, getting it wet so I can wash it like she did for me back at my place. “It’s not like you’re trespassing. But if you don’t want to see the bunk room, that’s your loss.”
“I’m not sleeping in a bunk bed.” She tips her head back, giving me more access to get her hair wet, and I reach for the shampoo, pouring some in my hand and starting to work it into her dark hair. It’s straight and smooth between my fingers, and now she smells like soap instead of sex and lube.
“You better not sleep in the bunk bed. I was thinking we probably wouldn’t sleep at all.” She hums, and I wash her hair, then nudge her to scoot down further in the water so I can use my hands to cup water over it and rinse everything. Eventually, she turns, and we wash each other’s bodies with the soap, her nipples impossibly hard, dragging along my chest when she leans forward to wash my back. Is she loving this as much as I am?
“Tell me about your travel plans,” I tell her, to get my mind off the word “love” and the creeping feeling of attachment that is overtaking my brain.
Thora smiles. Her face is clean and bright and pink from the hot water. Or the sex. Or both. “I have everything set up,” she tells me. “Passport. Visa. Ticket. I fly out on August 1, and Fern is meeting me at the airport. Which is good because my plane gets in super late at night, and I don’t want to take the bus alone at one in the morning.”
I frown at this. “You better not take a bus alone at one in the morning.”
She swats at me. “I just said I wasn’t. Wyatt has a car.” Suddenly, I hate that my cousin will see my girl when she embarks on her life goal. My girl…that’s not fair. I haven’t earned the right to call her mine. We’re just messing around while she waits for her next step, and I figure out what the hell my life looks like now.
I realize she has continued talking, and I lace my fingers together behind my head while she sits facing me in the giant tub. My leg is half asleep from dangling out of the tub, but I have my whole life to improve my circulation. This is my only chance to see Thora Janssen excited about international scholar orientation at Oxford.
“And then I’m pretty much on my own in the library,” she says, clasping her hands together under her chin. She rests her elbows on my knees, and I press my legs together, pinning her in place. She giggles. I love it. “Nine entire months just learning about international family law and social services policy. I’m going to draw correlations and bring it all with me to law school. It would be great to do a Master’s in Public Policy, too…what?”
She tucks her hair behind her ears. I shake my head. “Nothing. I just like hearing you talk about this stuff.”
“You and Fern and nobody else.” She sighs. “All right. I’m turning into a prune. You said you’d feed me.”
Thora flicks the drain on the tub and the water starts gurgling out. “I guess you’re in a hurry for my hot beef.”
“Oooh, I do enjoy steamy meat.” She cracks up as she steps out of the tub and, to my frustration, covers her body in a fluffy towel. “Do you need help getting out?”
I wish I could tell her I didn’t. I wish I could do a lot of things, but I accept her hand and swing myself out of the tub, leaning against the side of it while I dry off.
Thora follows me to the kitchen, chatting about her packing plans while she pulls clothes from her bag and, unfortunately, covers up. I tug on a pair of shorts and start prepping one of the meal kits while we drink wine. It feels so natural, teasing her, talking about random shit like whether she needs compression socks for an international flight. “You’re not middle-aged with circulation issues, Thora. I think you’ll be fine.”
She sips her drink. “I’ve never flown before at all…how should I know?”
“You never flew anywhere?” I offer her a spoon to taste the pan sauce while the meat simmers on the stove.
She closes her eyes and nods. “That’s good. And no. I’ve never really left Pittsburgh much.”
I think about my own childhood, traveling all over the world for my extended family’s sports adventures. But none of that has prepared me for a future once my life got derailed. Thora has built herself a bulletproof plan, all within the confines of the Steel City.
I plate the food and realize I can’t easily carry it all to the table, so I slide the plates onto the counter, and Thora hops up into one of the stools. We eat side by side, talking about nothing and everything until she slides her plate away, drops a hand to my crotch, and tells me to show her our bedroom.