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ChapterThirty-Seven
SUNDAY
“Ihate you,” I said through my heaving breaths as I worked to keep up with the Norse god running in front of me.
Alek stopped, a boyish grin on his handsome face. “That’s not hate you’re feeling, Sunny.”
Since he stopped I didn’t feel bad about bending over at the waist, glaring at him with my hands on the tops of my thighs as I tried to catch my breath. “Don’t be so sure about that, Loki. You fuck like a champion, but I’m ready to push you off a cliff right about now.”
“Oh, she’s talking dirty. Bringing out my government name.”
I laughed, then coughed because my lungs weren’t ready for any more exertion. “Government?”
“You know, official. Like on those birth certificates of yours. Ridiculous practice. Writing it down on a piece of paper doesn’t make it real. The fucking baby does. I don’t have a birth certificate, but I’m here. I exist.”
I shook my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you have spaghetti arms.”
“Rude. No need to get personal.”
“I thought we were simply stating the obvious.”
“I do not have spaghetti arms.”
He sauntered over, lifting my arm from the wrist and immediately letting go. Laughing when it fell limply to my side.
“Well, you have... um... great big tree trunk arms.”
Alek flexed. “I really do.”
“Humble.”
“You’re the one who brought it up. I’m simply agreeing with you.”
“Is everyone in your family this... honest?”
“Everyone but my brother Tor. I sometimes wonder if Odin bestowed our gifts incorrectly.”
I cocked a brow. “So he’s the mischief maker?”
“The liar.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and tugged me close. “I’ll never lie to you, Kærasta.”
I gave him a sweaty one-armed hug. Hardly sexy, but no less grateful. “I appreciate that about you. Any more tidbits I should know about the other Nordsons?”
“My father is basically a king, even though he originally turned down the title. That makes me a prince.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Great, just what I need. Two princes.”
Alek waved a hand. “Blackthorne isn’t a real prince.”
“Apparently neither are you, and you’re still trying to claim the title.”
He released me before his palm connected with my ass, making a little squeak of protest fall from my lips. “Run home, Sunny. Before I catch you and put that pretty mouth of yours to use elsewhere.”
Flutters shot through my belly. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
He growled, a perfect imitation of Kingston’s Alpha growl, and it had my wolf perk up and take notice. She may not be able to come out and play, but she was intrigued by the blond Norseman who sounded so much like her mate.
