Chapter 14: Torture Sessions
I open my eyes and I feel completely disoriented thanks to sleeping so much in the middle of the day. For a few seconds, I can’t even recall that I am in California now. And most of all in Vik’s room, in his bed. When he left, I felt so exhausted I dropped on the bed and just drifted into sleep. I look out the window and I see that the sun is setting. How long was I asleep?
“Few hours,” Vik answers as if reading my mind. “Didn’t want to wake you.”
I shift on the bed and I am glad I fell on it with my clothes on. Vik is sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees and he studies me. His look is heavy, overloaded with so much emotion it’s almost unbearable. Now what? I panic.
“Hungry?” he answers that too.
I nod. I am famished to the point of hurting. Vik stands and I see his body unravel before me. He is in his tight jeans tucked in black biker boots and nothing else. I stare unable to stop my eyes going over his abs down the V plunging into the jeans that fall low around his hips.
I hate Galina but “sex on a stick” is the perfect way to describe Vik. His skin doesn’t bear as many tatts as Rage or a few of the others. It’s the arrow on his back and the saying of the club “The Leavings Of The Wolf” and he has a Viking tatt on his left shoulder. But the most impressive ink on his body is a sword on the inner side of his right arm.
This is getting tiring, me ogling him, him catching me. Everything would be so much better if he wasn’t so...so much of everything. But I simply can’t ignore him. The more I try to pull away, the more I am drawn in and it’s getting so exhausting that I wish I could just let go. I look up as he is putting on a t-shirt and his cut over it and he isn’t smiling or mocking me. His look is serious.
“You didn’t sleep well,” he states.
He was watching me sleep? Say it’s creepy, say it’s creepy. God, that’s hot. Shit. I bite my lip and look away trying to concentrate on his words. ”You didn’t sleep well”. Sleeping must be the thing people with clear conscience and good lives do.
“Lys, it’s OK. You can talk to me. I know you are tough and all that, trust me I know. But your mother died then you found out about your father and now he is taken and you got to fight to get him back. Any of this shit could make you lose your sleep. All of them together must be...”
“I am fine,” I get up to avoid talking about it.
I am fine. I have always been fine. If there is one thing I know I am is fine. Sure, some heavy shit were thrown my way but that’s just my life. I can take a punch, I can handle this. No problem.
“Fuck, Lys,” Vik isn’t done. “You are not fine. You can’t bottle shit like this in. I am here, if you want to talk.”
“Big bad biker wants to talk about feelings. Must have crossed a parallel universe at some point,” I fire back. “Listen, Vik...What kind of name is Vik anyway?”
“That bad, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“You want to avoid this so bad that you are willing to make me personal questions, get to know me.”
I open my mouth to say something but I got nothing to say. He is right about my deflection tactics. Then again, I do want to get to know him. I mean, somewhere deep down, under this thick layer of suspicion and panic, I must do. I am in his fucking room, slept on his bed after he treated me like a sack of potatoes. I can’t be that cold, can I? Can I?
“So, hungry?” Vik dissipates my confusion.
“Get ready. We are riding somewhere.”
I want to tell him that I got a car and I can follow but he will say something droll and then we’ll argue before I end up being forced on the back of his bike anyway. Plus, I would be lying, if I were to complain on riding that beauty of a bike he owns. Being wrapped around him is an added bonus.
“OK?” he smirks. “Just OK? No arguments, no sassy comments, no insulting my bike?”
“Hey, I would never insult a Harley Davidson Dyna,” I say seriously.
A gasp leaves his lips and he is eyeing me as if I grew an extra pair of eyes on my head. There is mixture of surprise and pride sprinkled with a hint of lust that makes my mouth water. We are just standing there, gazing into each other not daring to move a muscle fearing it would end up with torn clothes and naked bodies. There is so much tension in the air, we could electrify the whole city. Him. Me. Bed. Simple equation, right? Luckily, he stirs away first.
“OK,” he clears his throat, “get ready. I’ll be waiting outside.”
Still shaking as if I was sick and got out of bed after days, I go and take a quick shower before slipping into my jeans and my tight black top. I don’t own many clothes apart from my fighting gear. This jean and three tops, no make-up and it never really mattered to me. But right now, for the first time in my life, I would kill for a freaking dress. A nice, elegant dress like the ones Ava wears, managing to look like a fashion icon even pregnant as she is. And shoes that are not thick boots. And a goddamn lipstick. I dismiss the thought owning it to the impracticality of riding a bike in a dress and I go out.
“That was quick,” Vik comments and revs the bike into life.
Be still my heart, I beg. This scene, him riding in his cut and jeans, the sleek black bike, its gurgling, rough sound, is the single most erotic thing I have seen in my whole life. I openly take in that image, the sound, the smell, the feel ’cause I know it will keep me company in cold, lonely nights making them very, very hot.
Vik hands me a helmet and I climb behind him. For the love...The vibrations of the engine, the leather between my legs, his warm body so close is making me wet. Simple as that. I am a physical being, I fight with my body not my mind and at this moment my body is not fighting its arousal. I am fidgeting on the leather seat seeking for something I can’t even fathom, when he growls.
“Stop squirming, Lys, or I swear to God I will turn around and I will fuck you in public.”
I freeze tempted to challenge him, grind against his back, trigger a reaction out of him that will satisfy this irresistible need that dominates me. But I don’t. I can’t. I won’t. I shouldn’t. Vik mutters something that sounds like “killing me” and rides away leaving me wondering who will end up dead in this scenario.
When Vik comes to a stop after a while, we are outside what seems like an old wooden house but has a sign that reads “Freya”. Vik takes my helmet and guides me up the wooden stairs, one hand hovering over my waist. He is not going to get the door for me, is he? OK, he is. He beams me a smile and I walk in past him. This has gone from casual to hot to confusing faster than a rollercoaster. I shake my head and step in.
My jaw drops. Of all the places I was expecting him to take me for dinner, this was the last one. The place is all in wood, with wide open spaces and timber roof. It’s the interior of a house turned restaurant with tables around from the living room to the library. At the other side of the entrance there is an opening to the kitchen from which an elegant woman with long gray hair in an elaborate braid and a smile on her wrinkled face emerges.
“Lucas!” she opens her arms and comes straight for Vik.
I watch as he leans down to embrace that tiny woman warmly before both turn their attention to me. The old woman studies me with a scrutinizing look and I flinch.
“This is Lysa,” Vik says. “Lysa this is Alice.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I nod.
“You too,” there is an amused look on Alice’s face as she shakes my hand.
“Is there a table out on the balcony?” Vik asks.
“You know I keep one in the corner, right to the sea for you every day,” Alice caresses his cheek and leads the way.
Everyone is looking at us and I don’t blame them. The people in the few tables this place offers are in designer clothes, perfect suits and expensive dresses. A leather-denim clad biker and a girl without an ounce of make-up do not fit. Still, no one dares to look longer as Vik guides me out.
“God,” I can’t help but gasp.
If the inside was amazing, the sea-view balcony is breathtaking. Five tables are here in all, all full but the one in the corner. There are no electric bulbs and only candles light the place, making it look even more magical. The summer breeze and the smell of the sea make me smile and for the first time after a long, long time I relax. When I turn to Vik, he is studying me and his eyes glisten under the candle lights. Fuck, he is devastating! I instantly look away in dread.
“Here you are. I’ll tell Arthur come right over,” Alicia takes me away from my stupor.
“Won’t you join us?” Vik offers.
Alice darts her look first at him and then at me and smiles wickedly.
“No, I have some work. Maybe later. Don’t go away without saying goodbye. Enjoy.”
Vik leaves a kiss on her cheek and then hurries to help me with my chair. What the hell is going on? My earlier comment on parallel universes is starting to look like a fulfilled prophesy. I eye Vik that looks at me amused and quite pleased with himself. I want to enjoy the view, the place, the calmness but I can’t.
“What is this place?”
“A restaurant,” Vik’s eyebrow rises.
“Vik, stop fucking around and spill it. First of all, who the hell is this chair-assisting, mild Lucas and what has he done to Vik?”
Vik laughs and I can’t help but smile. He looks so incredible when he laughs that I am almost brought to tears just by looking at him.
“Well, I am Lucas. That’s my real name but only Alice calls me that.”
“And Alice is...?”
“Alice used to be a rotter.”
“No fucking way,” I gasp. “She seems so...refined, stylish, sophisticated.”
“Well, thirty years back when she came in the club, she wasn’t. After my mother left me and my father, she stepped in and took care of me. I guess she had a thing for my Dad, hoping to be his Valkyrie.”
His look darkens. He hasn’t told me but I know about his dad. His and Bjorn’s died in an MC war when he was ten and Tor’s parents died in an accident the same year. Daniel said they called them the Orphans behind their backs. I say nothing just nod to let him know I get it.
“Anyway, he was too much of an asshole to see her. But Alice cared for me like a true mother. Apart from my brothers, she is the only person I consider family. She was always a hell of a cook, feeding everyone at the club and her dream was a place like this. I gave her the money,” he shrugs.
Seriously, I have to get back to my universe, the one where Vik is an overbearing, smug asshole with no regard for women and an inflated ego that can be seen from outer space. Dealing with this...I don’t know what to do with this, how to feel about it, how to react.
“Good evening,” I am saved by Arthur. “The menu in the establishment is set but Alice asked me to relay to you that she can make you anything you ask. Even grilled cheese sandwich.”
Vik smiles softly and shakes his head. This is an inside joke between them and I picture a cute, smart boy with sparking eyes using all his charm asking for a grilled cheese sandwich. Adorable, damn it!
“No, tell her we’ll have whatever pretentious shit she cooks nowadays,” Vik tells the surprised waiter. “But no wine. I can’t stand the damn thing. What are you having?”
“Do you serve cocktails?” I ask disregarding Vik’s snicker.
“We have one of the finest bartenders, miss,” Arthur offers.
“I’ll have a Cuba Libre.”
“What the hell,” Vik says, “I’ll try that too.”
His look drops on me heavy and laden with open lust. I shift on my chair under his gaze and it’s suddenly too hot, too humid, too suffocating out here. Tearing my eyes away, I look at the beach and I get a sense of peace. Daniel told me he was raised and born at the Bay so there must be some DNA thing in me that calls out to the ocean. I might never admit it even if Rage subjects me to one of his notorious torture sessions, but I like it here. A lot.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” Vik breaks the silence.
I gasp and blush. For the first time in my whole life I blush like a teenager talking to her crush. I fought for three years in the underground circuit in Vegas and I got the nickname Cold Bitch. Cause that is what I am. No blushing for the Cold Bitch, it’s not in the job description. Three words from him and I go from Cold Bitch, to Blushing Idiot in record time. Fuck, this is going to be a long night.