Odin (Billionaire Titans Book 2) (10 page)

I
annoyed
everyone over the next few days. Everyone except Clara. She always seemed to have time for me.

But my mind was racing, and I finally had a way to communicate. I had a lot to say.

Intel was starting to come in, although only in drips and drops. Achilles was still unaccounted for. His bodyguard Mitch’s autopsy said he died of stab wounds. From what I knew of him and how Atlas described him, Mitch wasn’t the type to succumb to a common street thug. It would have taken a pro to kill Mitch that way.

QB hadn’t responded to anything Raven had sent him, so that appeared to be a dead end. Our father and Canaan were safe. Piper was due any day, and for the first time in my life, Atlas actually seemed nervous.

Clara had worked closely with me, helping to wake up muscles and joints that had been asleep for weeks. The damn feeding tube had finally come out, and I was able to eat, although only soft things like broth and applesauce. Clara hoped that moving my jaw and swallowing would prompt my voice to return.

I had use of both hands, although not the strength to keep them raised for long. I could wiggle my toes and move my feet at the ankle.

Everyone was in other parts of the house and things were quiet, so Clara collected her things and prepared to shave my face. She said I was “starting to look like a mountain man,” although in truth I only had a light coating of stubble.

She started with a hot washcloth all over my face, and then she gently applied shaving cream, patting it on from my cheekbones down my face and around my throat. Her touch, like this, with her face so close, and her scent so clear, made part of my body awaken that had thus far lain dormant.

At first, it was just a twitch. It came out of nowhere, when I happened to catch Clara’s eye. We held the contact for just the span of a single heartbeat, but we both smiled. Or what passed for a smile for me. Mine was a bit lopsided. Clara had shown me my face in a mirror the previous afternoon and I’d been appalled. I looked gaunt and pale, and when I went through my range of facial expressions, my smile looked crooked. If I’d hoped Mallory might return, I knew that one look at the new me would send her scurrying for the nearest casino executive or hotshot attorney.

Not that I had any desire for her to return.

I’d fallen hard for Clara.

The picture I’d painted in my mind of her paled next to the genuine article. Her beauty was so clean, so natural that I couldn’t stop staring at her. Of course, when I did it, it wasn’t creepy; it wasn’t like I could look anywhere other than the direction my face was pointed. And if it was toward Clara, all the better.

The way her hips swayed when she walked, and little things like the way she’d bite her bottom lip or even fix her pony tail were adorable and made my heart jump in my chest every time I saw them. How I longed to be something other than her patient; something besides a pitiful cripple in a hospital bed. As much as I wanted to heal, I feared that getting better too quickly would mean our time together would be over.

After lathering me, she started slowly dragging the razor down my face. And what had been just a twitch was unmistakable. I was starting to get an erection.

I was wearing pajama pants, and the sheets were off my bed. I had no way to hide it if it sprang completely to life. Nothing with which to conceal my arousal. And the more I thought about it, and the more I inhaled her fragrance and felt her breath on me, the more impossible it was to fight it.

My eyes wandered, coming to rest on Clara’s throat. It looked so soft, so inviting, so kissable. Which did nothing to help my predicament. I glanced down to my lap for a moment, and it was obvious. Clara was focused on the task of making me look respectable, but I feared if Nathaniel, or Piper, or Titan were to walk in, the first thing they’d see would be the tent in my pants. I had to do something. I typed on my keypad, something at which I’d become quite proficient.

“
I am really sorry and embarrassed
.”

Clara stopped and rinsed the razor in her bowl, cocking her head inquisitively.

“
Can you cover me up please? I seem to have a problem
.”

Clara glanced down and her eyes widened.

“Oh. Oh my, yes, of course.”

She was flustered. And as adorable as a kitten.

She reached for a blanket, folding it across my legs and then pulling it up past my waist.

“
My first one. Mortified
.” I typed.

“I rather doubt it’s your
first
one,” Clara laughed, returning to the shave. “But your secret is safe with me.”

“
I feel like a teenager
,” my computer voice said for me.

“I think it’s probably natural,” Clara replied. “Different parts of you are waking up. I just hope it isn’t painful with the catheter in, is it?”

“
Not painful exactly but it feels strange. Pressure more than pain
,” I answered.

She took the towel and cleaned my face, wiping away the remnants of shaving cream.

“How’s that?” she asked, her fingertips running along my jawline to check her work.

“
Feels great but you touching me is only going to make my other problem worse
.”

Flirting via a robotic proxy was extremely awkward. She laughed it off and cleaned up a spot near my left ear before walking over to the sink to dump the water and clean the razor. Watching the hypnotic way her hips moved as she walked
definitely
wasn’t helping me get rid of my erection.

A
tlas and Nathaniel
came down to brief Odin on something shortly after I finished cleaning up, so I retired to my former room for a while since Raven was working out. Before leaving, I glanced down to make sure the blanket I’d placed strategically across his lap was still serving its intended purpose. It was.

When Odin told me about his “problem,” I thought I might faint. It had been years since I’d been that close to an erect penis, at least one that wasn’t chemically-induced. I’d had a handful of middle-aged men in my ER suffering from priapism after overdoing it with little blue pills.

But this was different. This was a guy I was more than a little attracted to, and pharmaceuticals had nothing to do with his arousal. Part of me wanted to believe that maybe I even had a little something to do with it, but that was silly. This was
Odin Titan
.

I’d always assumed I had somehow tricked Callum into falling in love with me. I mean, I never had a shortage of male suitors, but Callum O’Gradys and Odin Titans didn’t fall for Clara Martins. Plain Jane isn’t what attracted men like those. But Plain Jane is definitely what I saw when I looked in the mirror.

I started a shower, and as I let the water warm up and I removed my clothing, I kept thinking of Odin. Of Odin and that thick bulge that was threatening to spring free from his pajama pants at any moment.

Steam escaped over and around the shower curtain, signaling me that the water was plenty hot, and I got in, letting it cascade down over my curves, taking the scenic route to the drain.

I took a loofah in hand and let it glide across my body, spreading soap suds everywhere it went. I put a bent arm against the wall, leaning my forehead against it as my free hand dipped between my legs, finding wetness that came less from the showerhead than from my proximity to an aroused Odin Titan.

My fingers gently parted my labia, dipping briefly inside and then stroking upward toward my needy clit. I gasped when I touched it, just barely grazing it before moving up a hair more and pressing down, making tight circles just above that throbbing little nuisance that had been demanding so much of my attention as of late.

I fantasized about Odin pulling back the curtain and sliding in behind me, that marvelous erection bobbing majestically in front of him. He’d step behind me, turning his hands around so that just his knuckles slowly grazed down my back, out on the outsides where the skin is most sensitive, and I’d stiffen under his ministrations.

When his hands finally reached my hips, he turned them over and let his palms slide back up to my shoulders, where he kneaded them firmly, all my stress instantly dissolving away. He’d lean in to kiss my back, right up between the shoulder blades, while his rampant cock would press between the cheeks of my ass, making me whimper.

I rubbed myself harder and faster imagining the invasion, that throbbing weapon so close to my most defenseless opening, the soapy lubrication making him slide so deep, so close, without even trying, that I feared he’d just continue and go all the way to the hilt, splitting me open. But did I fear it or crave it?

My hand was a blur and my moans would have been obvious to anyone in the yard, even over the sound of the shower.

I pictured him taking the root of his cock in his hand, guiding it lower as he used his knee to nudge my legs apart. In my mind, he entered me like that, squatting down slightly to get just the right angle and then straightening up, letting my body deal with the strain of his cock trying to point to the ceiling right through my body.

His hands would take hold of my hips, his mouth just behind my ear, breath ragged as he grunted through his exertions. Pinning me to the wall, my breasts mashed against the unforgiving tile, moaning and squealing like a whore.

And loving every second of it.

The orgasm swept through me, and I bit down hard on my forearm to keep from crying out.

As I became too sensitive to keep rubbing, I clawed at my breasts and my thighs, writhing under the scalding hot water as my desire crested again and again.

In my fantasy, Odin turned me around, kissing me hard as he lifted me off the ground, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and my arms behind his neck. And he fucked me, just like that, his sinewy frame standing tall, supporting my weight effortlessly, impaled on his thick erection.

I staggered out of the shower, thighs trembling with aftershocks.

Odin was awake and gaining strength every day. I recalled driving home from my attorney’s office that afternoon Atlas first approached me, and thinking how amazing it would be to have him wake up and send me back to my regular life with a pile of money in the bank and endless opportunity ahead of me. Now, however, all I could think about was Odin, and the thought of ever leaving him crushed me. If I had to hand Atlas back the keys to the safe deposit boxes, but it meant I’d stay with Odin once he was back on his feet, I couldn’t say no.

I flipped on the television as I toweled off after my shower. Nothing on Bravo or E! caught my eye, but as I browsed through the channels, I stopped on a football match. After Callum, I’d always called soccer “football”. He’d been a fanatic about the game, and while we were dating he’d often drag me to a British bar near the UNLV campus to watch games being broadcast from England, sometimes as early as 5:00 AM Las Vegas time.

I didn’t grow up with any particular interest in sports, and to be honest, soccer bored me, but there was something about the emotional investment fans made that helped me get swept up in it. Hours before the sun rose, this little bar a few blocks from campus would be crammed with British ex-pats and local aficionados tossing back pints, singing songs, and cheering wildly for the team they supported.

I left the match on in the background while I got dressed. There was something comforting about the crowd, the announcers and their accents, and the ebb and flow of the action. I heard a knock on the door to my little guest house, followed by Piper’s voice. “Clara? Are you in here?”

I pulled on a shirt and opened the door for her. “Come on in, what’s up?”

“Nothing much. Or everything. I don’t know. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I think it’s the nesting instinct. Atlas and I have our little nursery, and I’m sure we have everything we need, but this is just so weird. It’s not what I pictured life with a newborn being like. At all.”

I motioned for Piper to join me on the couch and we sat down. “This is definitely a… ‘peculiar’ way and place to have a baby. Absolutely. But from what I understand, your situation in Alaska may have been worse. If anything goes wrong here, which it won’t, at least you have me. If there had been complications on the island, I don’t even want to think about it.”

“I know, and I’m grateful for you.
So
grateful. For Odin, for helping me, for everything. The pregnancy, the hormones, they’re just making me a little crazy, I think.”

“You have Atlas, too. He dotes on you. It’s heart-warming to see the way he treats you. I’ll admit it, I’m a little jealous,” I said, laughing.

“
You’re
jealous of me? You’re this beautiful, brilliant doctor! You shouldn’t be jealous of anybody. And besides, you’ve got your own Titan man in there.”

“Odin? He’s just my patient, there’s nothing- “

Piper cut me off. “Are you kidding? The way you look at him? The way he looks at you? I half-expect to find the two of you making out every time I go in there.”

Before I could protest, someone else knocked on the door.

I opened it to find Raven standing there. She stuck her head in the door and looked around.

“Ugh! How am I supposed to plan your baby shower when you’re in here, Piper? I don’t mind sharing the space with Clara, but this place is cramped for three, or is it thee and a half people?”

Raven and I expected Piper to reply, but we looked over to see her staring at the television, all color drained from her face. She pointed at the screen.

“It’s him. Oh my God, its him.”

Raven and I made eye contact and both walked over to look at the screen. The cameraman had panned to the crowd, away from the action on the field. A group of a dozen or so wealthy-looking sorts filled the screen, mostly men, with a few dazzling women sprinkled among them.

Raven scanned the people on the screen. I’d hit the pause button. “That’s Silvio Berlusconi, right?” she asked, looking confused.

Piper rose from the sofa, walking to the TV and pointing out a man among the frozen faces, two rows behind the man Raven had identified as the former Italian prime minister.

“QB. That’s QB. He’s a monster. He shaved his beard, but I’ll never forget his face.”

I looked to Raven for confirmation.

“I’ve never seen him. He’s a phantom,” Raven said. “But Atlas has. And Nathaniel, I think. I’ll get them.”

Moments later, Atlas bounded into my living room, Nathaniel trailing behind. “I’ll be damned,” he said, wrapping his arms around Piper as he stood behind her. “Good eye, babe.”

“What is this we’re watching? What are we looking at?” Nathaniel asked.

“It’s a football, sorry, a soccer game. I wasn’t really paying attention. Let me see.” I picked up the remote and hit a few buttons, bringing up the pertinent details on the screen. A.C. Milan were playing at home in their 80,000 seat San Siro stadium against Chievo Verona. It was a match from the top Italian professional league.

Raven scrolled through her phone. “Berlusconi is the owner and president of A.C. Milan. That must be his personal box. I don’t recognize anyone else, but it’s fair to assume they’re all heavyweight politicians or wealthy business associates of Berlusconi.”

“Or murderous whack jobs,” countered Piper.

“We can use this, Atlas,” Nathaniel said.

“How?” Atlas asked.

“Is this an important game? Does anybody know?”

Raven hadn’t stopped digging through her phone. “No. Don’t think so. Milan is a traditional power. Verona isn’t a rival or even very good, from what I can tell.”

“Their big rival is Inter,” I offered. “They’re another Milan team.”

Everyone looked at me with expressions ranging from mild surprise to all-out shock.

“Didn’t figure you for a soccer fan,” Atlas remarked.

“I’m not. But my husband was. He never shut up about it. He was obsessed. So I picked up a thing or two over the years.”

“OK, so Raven, when does Milan play…what is it? Inter?” Atlas asked.

“Give me a minute.” Raven requested, and within seconds she had an answer. “Milan play Inter in two weeks. They share a stadium. Think he’ll want to miss the big game?”

“Not a chance. Thanks, Raven. We don’t have much time for logistics, but it looks like we’re heading for Italy,” Atlas said amidst murmurs from the others.

Piper caught my eye, put both hands on her belly, then shrugged and turned her palms skyward, shaking her head.