Epilogue
ODIN
“Mrs. Janssen, I couldn’t eat another bite.” I toss my napkin to the side and pat my stomach appreciatively. Thora was nervous as hell about coming to her parents’ house for Christmas. I promised her I was absolutely fine with whatever was inside there, but her dad surprised her by revealing that he quit smoking months earlier.
Thora cried and walked through the rooms of the house, sniffing pillows and touching curtains. I mean, sure, the guy switched to nicotine gum, but it’s way less stinky, and apparently, it’s covered by his insurance. They have that now—insurance. Thora also cried when her parents let her help them with the paperwork for that a few months ago.
“You guys just seem so healthy,” Thora sniffles. She hugs her mother tightly. They’re about the same size, which is tiny. Mr. Janssen grunts and pops another piece of gum in his mouth, flicking the television over to a hockey game. I join him on the couch, looking to see my brothers on the screen. “Hey, the twins are starting,” I say, and Thora pats my shoulder. She’s not really a sports fan unless I’m competing, but she will agree to watch Wyatt, Wes, and Cara play soccer if I bribe her with sex. I guess I have to get her into hockey now that the Stags are back in the game.
Thora’s dad stares at me like he’s just putting it together that Odin Stag is related to Alder, Tucker, and Gunner Stag. “Your people play for the Fury?”
I bark out a laugh. “Well, yeah, man. Not sure about Gunny right now, actually. You know he got in a bit of trouble back in Vegas.”
Thora’s dad nods and crosses his arms. “Absolutely ridiculous to go there for pre-season.”
I hold up my hands because what am I going to do about my brother’s antics. Twenty minutes later, after a bunch of clangs from the kitchen, Thora comes up behind me again and leans her chin on my head. “You ready to go?”
I know that tone, and as much as I’d like to watch my brothers play hockey, I’d rather destroy the rental Thora and I got in my parents’ neighborhood. “Thanks for everything, Mr. and Mrs. Janssen,” I say, snatching Thora’s coat from the banister and draping it over her shoulders. “We’ll see you New Year’s Eve at my uncle’s house? For shrimp?”
Her parents nod and kiss her and hug her and pat my arms and then I’m back behind the driver’s seat of my G Wagon, massaging the steering wheel like it’s one of my girl’s thighs. “Hey, lady,” I whisper to the black leather glory. “You miss me?”
“Are you talking to your car? That’s it, I’m not letting you anywhere near my boobs.” Thora laughs and buckles her seatbelt, and I head east up Liberty Ave.
“Who said I want your crusty old boobs? Maybe I’m sick of them.” It’s a lie, and we both know it. I’m obsessed with Thora’s bra-free rack, and I reach across to give it a pat.
I screech the car to a halt in the driveway of the rental house, and she giggles and runs up the stairs to the front door. I run right after her, still appreciating how easily I can move around in the world after six months of intense rehab. The reward for all that is right here in front of me, stripping off her fancy pants lacy tank top, and holiday sweater.
“I love you,” I tell her, tackling her to the floor inside the front door.
She pounds her fist on my chest and laughs, tugging at my own sweater. I take mercy on her and kneel above her so I can undress more easily, but I keep a knee on her leg so she can’t wriggle away. I do love a game of chase with her, but she has me all worked up and I want her. Right now.
Naked, panting, I grab my length and give it a good tug while she watches, licking her lips. “You hoping for a candy cane, Thora? Something hard and sticky in your stocking?”
“You are absolutely insane.” She shoots her feet around my waist and pulls me toward her body. I happily tip over and reach for her, parting her folds and finding her wet and hot and slippery.
“Oh, hello.” I grin and pump a finger in and out of her body while she wriggles on the rug.
“Yes, yes, I want you, too. I’m sorry I threatened to take away my boobs. Oh, god, yes, please keep doing that.” I am stroking her with two fingers now, stretching her out. I usually like to make her come at least once before I slide my cock inside her, but things are getting desperate up here for me.
With a grunt, I thrust inside my lady. “Yes, Odin, god, yes,” she says, nails poking into the tattoos on my shoulder blades. She sinks her teeth into the side of my neck, and I growl, pulling back onto my knees and hauling her ass off the ground so her hips are on my lap.
I’m very deep inside her this way, and I can watch her chest shaking as we slam together. “This is all yours, Thora.” I punctuate each word with another thrust. “Every. Thing. I. Have.”
“Love you,” she wails, bringing her hand between her legs .
“Yes, beautiful, touch yourself for me.” I wrap an arm under each of her thighs, spreading her even wider and giving me more leverage to pull her into my body.
Thora releases strangled sounds of ecstasy as her fingers fly over her clit, her other hand scrambling to grab my arm, my leg, the rug. I feel it when she starts to come, and I soar over the cliff alongside her, grunting with the effort and then flopping forward to join her on the rug.
“Merry Christmas,” she whispers, eyes fluttering open like she can’t decide if she can remain awake.
“Hm,” is all I can manage in return.
“We hardly ever do it in a bed,” she says, rolling onto her back and blowing hair out of her mouth. “Why is that?”
“Because we have imagination. Because I can’t control myself when I’m near you. Because the whole world is a canvas for our art.”
I roll onto my back and lace my fingers together behind my head.
Thora roars with laughter and sits up. “Odin Stag, the things that fall out of your mouth.”
“You love it,” I say, winking at her in the glow of the twinkle lights on our rented mantle.
She sighs and lies back down, arms around my middle, head on my chest. “Yeah,” she says. “I really do.”
Thank you for reading Forging Chaos!