Loki's Luck

Chapter 2

2

Abby whipped into the newly paved parking lot in her little cherry-red Nissan. She’d been determined that the first car she bought would be red. Of course, the only way it was affordable was to buy the smallest one available. And, so she did. Riding with the windows down, she rolled to a stop in a parking spot near the door. She’d been comfortable in her pantsuit back at her frigidly air-conditioned office, but now she was overdressed for the summer weather. Regardless, after hours cooped up in a windowless office, she could suck it up to get the nice stiff breeze of fresh air coming through the windows. The oldies radio station began playing “Like a Virgin” by Madonna, so she turned up the volume. Her mother, a diehard Grateful Dead and Phish follower, was a closet Madonna fan so she’d grown up on songs like this one. Anyway, trashy 80’s music was a thing, and it was meant to be blasted out of a car on a sunny day.

She peered up at the boxing gym, where she was meeting Sage and the instructor of the self-defense class. It was a little rough around the edges, but the new blacktop showed that they had their priorities straight. Put money into the basics instead of dolling up the storefront and leaving the rest crappy. Anyway, Sage had assured her that the clients would have their own exclusive entrance so they wouldn’t have to walk through a floor of people punching bags and kicking each other in the face. She particularly liked that option. As her clients got more confidence, they’d be moseying through the front door, just as she was doing right now. If they were still nervous, they’d have the option to continue using the side door. Options were important for survivors.

Abby was excited for this class. It was her first foray into taking charge of activities outside of the Agency. Which meant that there was no room for failure. Her boss lady was no joke, and Abby took every opportunity for what it was. An honor and a test. If she crumbled, if anything went wrong, it was her butt on the line and she’d be waiting a good long while for another chance to come her way.

Stopping at the front desk, Abby checked out the surroundings. The wall of floor-to-ceiling glass was impressive. So was the expanse of space. Sounds of grunting and whacking of flesh on flesh, or flesh on leather, echoed off the high ceilings.

Suddenly, Sage slipped in front of her. “Hey! Hope I didn’t keep you long. I was in the middle of an emergency call. It’s hard to get off work in the middle of the day, if I’m not at court.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Abby lied. Sage was a badass defense attorney, professional to the nines. If she felt it was imperative to step out of the office to facilitate this meeting, then that wasn’t a good sign. Again, not my problem. I’ve got to make this work. Period. Abby couldn’t imagine what the problem could be, but then again, this club had been their best choice. The price was right, and with the budget cuts the county had imposed, that was imperative. Plus, apparently the instructor was top-notch. Truth was, they’d lucked out that Sage knew him personally and that the club was new.

After a quick hug, Sage gave Abby a cursory tour of the main floor. Guiding her down a hallway, she pointed to the alternate entrance for the class participants and then swung open a door. Her attention was on Sage as she entered an office. She turned her head to face forward and whoa…what the—gorgeous. That was the only thought that rolled through her mind. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.

He was one big, bold, and beautiful specimen of a man. Abby’s breath hitched as her eyes wandered over his wide chest, broad shoulders, and stubbled, angular jaw before resting on a pair of gorgeous blue eyes. All that olive skin and broody masculinity made her forget why she was there for a split second. Her n*****s pebbled underneath her blouse and she quickly folded her arms over her chest.

The biker—Loki was his name—stretched like one of those massive lethal felines one would see on a reserve in the Serengeti. He settled back into a relaxed pose on the couch. Apparently this was his office at the Box, the gym where the self-defense class she launched was going to take place. His eyes settled on hers. They didn’t exactly radiate friendliness, but they demanded her attention. She experienced a pull, like she was on a fast-running river going in one unforgiving direction toward a run of rapids . No matter what she did, no matter how much she fought it, she was rushing downstream over those torrents. As she stood before him, her s*x clenched, and she pressed her thighs firmly together. Good Lord, the way she was reacting to him, one would think she’d been raised in a nunnery. A slight smirk on his face told her that he’d noted her discomfort. There was that pull again. This time, tugging low in her belly. Crap.

Sage began introducing them, “Abby, this is Loki. A member of the Demon Squad, supervisor of the Box, and the instructor for the self-defense class.”

He partially rose from the couch and extended a hand. She stared down at his outstretched hand, as large as a bear’s paw, and a frisson skittered down her spine. The energy coming off him was intimidating. He wasn’t scary, per se, but the authority vibrating off him unnerved her. Peeking up at him for reassurance, she was faced with perfectly sculpted features devoid of expression. He didn’t c***k a smile. No crinkles fanned around the corners of his eyes. No laugh lines at the edges of his lips. Nothing. This dude kills it at poker, for sure.

And, his scar. Whew, that was one wicked-looking injury. It started at his hairline and barely missed his eye.

A survivor.

Above all else, she respected survivors. Unlike her mother, who’d fought the good fight, but didn’t survive.

“He looks menacing, but he’s very capable. More feral than domesticated, but loyal,” Sage was saying.

Capable and loyal. Sage hadn’t mentioned gentleness, which would’ve been more comforting considering her group of clients. The feral qualities were evident. If pressed, she’d describe them as grizzly; not one cuddly, teddy-bear characteristic lingered about him.

Abby’s hand was engulfed by his much broader palm. Static crackled when their skin came into contact. She hurried to withdraw her hand and rubbed her sweaty palm on her pantsuit. He didn’t frown, exactly. His expressionless visage didn’t change perceptively, but she was almost certain a ghost of a scowl crossed his face. As if he didn’t like her reaction. But that couldn’t be right. A man dressed solely in black, with a hard jaw and sharp, cerulean eyes under heavy brows didn’t care what a girl like her felt or thought. It brought up a bubble of irritation from the years of putting up with her older brothers’ bossiness.

She blew out a breath, waving away the fringe of chin-length hair framing her cheeks. “Glad to meet you, Loki. I’m sure we’ll get along fabulously well.”

Sage’s gaze flittered between them; a notch of concern lodged between her delicate brows. She could understand why. He had the bearing of a soldier. A hardened soldier. Broad shoulders bulged beneath his biker’s vest. His black T-shirt broadcast prominent biceps with delicious veins popping out from his olive skin. Given half a chance, she’d tongue the edge of that fat vein down his bicep, over his forearm, and between his knuckles. Flutter her tongue between his blunt fingers before sucking the tip of one into her mouth.

Okay, What the f**k? Is this what happened when a person was severely s*x deprived? I guess it’s to be expected from a woman who’d had s*x all of one, single time. There was no other explanation for her fantasies about a bad-boy biker like him, who didn’t go more than twenty-four hours without pounding into a woman. Unfortunately, that thought led to a lascivious image of Loki lounging on the couch, a woman between his legs, going down on him. Annnd…she was wet. She stifled a groan. Just great.

Of course, looks could be deceiving. Both Greta’s and Sage’s boyfriends doted on them, and bikerness bled out of every pore in their bodies. It was his overwhelming charisma. It was addling her mind like scrambled egg. Snap out of it, girl!

“Are you okay?” Sage peered at her. Abby blinked a few times and flashed a practiced, reassuring smile. “Yes! Of course.”

She cringed at her overly enthusiastic response. A little over-the-top, for sure.

“I thought we lost you there for a moment,” Sage said, studying her carefully.

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around her elbow, and Abby was being guided to a seat behind a monstrous desk. Another electric jolt ran up her arm, and she reacted to the zing by struggling against his clasp. Loki tightened his hold and commanded, “Sit.”

Her butt plopped down instantaneously. His voice was like bourbon, dark and heady. Her pulse roared as she gazed up at him, hoping to see a reflection of the same desire strumming through her body. A knot lodged in her throat. No such luck. His expression was as cool and smooth as ever. His gaze sidelined to Sage, and he gave another order. “Water.”

Sage scurried off to the water cooler. A gurgle of bubbles in the tank broke the silence. Loki knelt; worried eyes lit on her. His broad hand wrapped around her knee. It was like a punch to the gut and her shoulders gave a slight shudder. He squeezed. Heat lit up a bonfire between her thighs, which she clasped together in desperation.

Whatever Loki saw on her face must have finally registered because Bunsen burner–blue flames flared in his irises. In a tone bleeding molten sensuality, he cautioned her, “Stand down, little girl. I ain’t the one for you.”

Oh, yes, you are. You so, so are.

Her body was screaming out that he was exactly the one for her. His eyes turned icy, or rather icier. Firming her lips, she swiped at his hand, but it was a useless gesture. He only tightened his hold.

A paper water cup was thrust in her face, breaking their staring contest.

“Here, Abby, drink this.”

Then, Sage’s hand was shoving at Loki’s shoulder, and his grip slipped away, leaving a cold spot where his flesh had wrapped around hers.

“Do you mind, Loki?” Sage’s face swam in her line of vision. “Drink up. Are you okay? Maybe it’s the heat. Lower the thermostat, Loki. She looks like she’s about to have heatstroke.”

Abby guzzled down the water and cleared her throat. “Yes, it is hot in here.”

Sage turned a narrowed-eyed stare of blame onto Loki. “Why do you keep it so hot in here?”

“No, it’s not his fault,” she hurried to say. “It’s so cold at the Agency that I’m always over-dressed in the summer months.” She gave a little shrug. “You know how I’m a jean shorts and T-shirt kind of girl.” Embarrassment seeped out of every inch of her skin. She was a professional, dammit. This was so unbecoming. Straightening her shoulders, she took in a deep breath and firmly reminded herself to focus.