Possession(Sons of Odin MC)
Possession(Sons of Odin MC) - Violetta Rand
Prologue
JUNE 5
CORPUS CHRISTI, TEXAS
Weddings brought out the worst in Tina. Through the patio windows she watched her best friend, Lily, slide into the back of the limo with her husband, shit-eating grins plastered on their faces. The ceremony and reception had been perfect. But what could have gone wrong at an event attended by Philadelphia socialites and 1%er outlaw bikers? Everything. She sucked down a shot of peppermint schnapps, their drink of choice when she and Lily had roomed together at college. They’d snuck off twenty minutes ago and cracked open a celebratory bottle, clinging to the last minutes of their old lives. Because once Lily walked away, nothing would ever be the same.
She’d never been happier for her friend, but a pinch of envy surfaced still. Knowing she hadn’t gotten her own life together enough to find that special someone made her feel inadequate. So Tina swallowed another mouthful of liquor.
“Maid of honor?”
Tina closed her eyes; Vincent’s resonant voice did funny things to her. “I believe we achieved the highest level of success tonight.” She twisted around, hiding the bottle behind her back.
“Did we?” he asked, filling the doorway.
Her gaze swept over his tux-clad body. The tux must have been spray-painted on, because the material gripped him in all the right places. No one would ever suspect he wore a Sons of Odin cut and leathers regularly. Nope, her dreamy colossus pulled off “normal” in a way she’d never imagined possible.
He freed himself of the maroon bow tie and loosened his collar. “Goddamned monkey suit,” he complained, crossing the threshold. “But it’s done.”
“Guess we’d better see to the guests?” One thing remained certain: after planning a wedding with Vincent, Tina had discovered an attraction she couldn’t manage. Mix it with alcohol, and she was pretty sure she’d end up on her back with her dress hiked up, fucking Vincent with prejudice.
He waved his hand. “Only a few stragglers left taking advantage of the open bar.” He grinned. “Hiding something behind your back?”
“Um…”
“I can see the bottle,” he said. “Give it up.”
“Girly stuff,” she admitted. “I won’t tell anyone if you take a swig.”
He swallowed an inconceivable amount. “Mouthwash,” he complained, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “Girly shit is right.”
She laughed, liking the thought of getting drunk with him—the treasurer for the Sons of Odin—the guy she’d wanted to sleep with since the night she met him at Tito’s six months ago. A dead end. But God…She inched closer, snatching the schnapps out of his hand; the idea was to take turns. After she took another taste, he tugged her into his arms. Eighties dance music still filled the rental space, and Vincent apparently appreciated it, because he started to sway. Her hips wouldn’t be denied the opportunity to simulate sex with him.
He smelled of whiskey and cigars, with maybe a hint of citrusy cologne mixed in. It went straight to her core. He guided her to the side of the room, where she abandoned the bottle on the nearest tabletop. Hands free, she wrapped them around his neck, gazing into his eyes, trying to guess what he was thinking. But his expression remained as unnavigable as a cloudless sky. Just fathomless blue stared back.
“I like this song,” he whispered.
She couldn’t remember the artist.
“Cutting Crew,” he said as if reading her mind.
She strained to make out the words—I just died in your arms tonight…Yeah, she’d do more than that.
Hugging her tighter, he nipped her earlobe, and a violent chill spiraled up her spine. She sighed, already struggling to remain upright, blaming it on slutty-maid-of-honor syndrome. He’d never touched her that way before, and judging by the glassy condition of his eyes, he’d slammed a few too many drinks. Not enough to make him sloppy, though.
The schnapps had taken the edge off for her too, so she threw caution to the wind and risked biting his lower lip. One of his big hands squeezed her ass in response. Maybe if she made another move, he’d do the same—they’d progress like a chess game.
“You’re determined to make me horny as hell, aren’t you, Tina?” This time there was no mistaking the look on his face.
“Tit for tat,” she said.
“Really? Let’s test that theory.”
“No reason to, Vincent. I’m more than willing to play.”
He released her. “Why do you always talk like that?”
“What?” she asked innocently.
“Everything is saturated with sexual innuendo. You want me?”
Prologue
JUNE 5
CORPUS CHRISTI, TEXAS
Weddings brought out the worst in Tina. Through the patio windows she watched her best friend, Lily, slide into the back of the limo with her husband, shit-eating grins plastered on their faces. The ceremony and reception had been perfect. But what could have gone wrong at an event attended by Philadelphia socialites and 1%er outlaw bikers? Everything. She sucked down a shot of peppermint schnapps, their drink of choice when she and Lily had roomed together at college. They’d snuck off twenty minutes ago and cracked open a celebratory bottle, clinging to the last minutes of their old lives. Because once Lily walked away, nothing would ever be the same.
She’d never been happier for her friend, but a pinch of envy surfaced still. Knowing she hadn’t gotten her own life together enough to find that special someone made her feel inadequate. So Tina swallowed another mouthful of liquor.
“Maid of honor?”
Tina closed her eyes; Vincent’s resonant voice did funny things to her. “I believe we achieved the highest level of success tonight.” She twisted around, hiding the bottle behind her back.
“Did we?” he asked, filling the doorway.
Her gaze swept over his tux-clad body. The tux must have been spray-painted on, because the material gripped him in all the right places. No one would ever suspect he wore a Sons of Odin cut and leathers regularly. Nope, her dreamy colossus pulled off “normal” in a way she’d never imagined possible.
He freed himself of the maroon bow tie and loosened his collar. “Goddamned monkey suit,” he complained, crossing the threshold. “But it’s done.”
“Guess we’d better see to the guests?” One thing remained certain: after planning a wedding with Vincent, Tina had discovered an attraction she couldn’t manage. Mix it with alcohol, and she was pretty sure she’d end up on her back with her dress hiked up, fucking Vincent with prejudice.
He waved his hand. “Only a few stragglers left taking advantage of the open bar.” He grinned. “Hiding something behind your back?”
“Um…”
“I can see the bottle,” he said. “Give it up.”
“Girly stuff,” she admitted. “I won’t tell anyone if you take a swig.”
He swallowed an inconceivable amount. “Mouthwash,” he complained, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “Girly shit is right.”
She laughed, liking the thought of getting drunk with him—the treasurer for the Sons of Odin—the guy she’d wanted to sleep with since the night she met him at Tito’s six months ago. A dead end. But God…She inched closer, snatching the schnapps out of his hand; the idea was to take turns. After she took another taste, he tugged her into his arms. Eighties dance music still filled the rental space, and Vincent apparently appreciated it, because he started to sway. Her hips wouldn’t be denied the opportunity to simulate sex with him.
He smelled of whiskey and cigars, with maybe a hint of citrusy cologne mixed in. It went straight to her core. He guided her to the side of the room, where she abandoned the bottle on the nearest tabletop. Hands free, she wrapped them around his neck, gazing into his eyes, trying to guess what he was thinking. But his expression remained as unnavigable as a cloudless sky. Just fathomless blue stared back.
“I like this song,” he whispered.
She couldn’t remember the artist.
“Cutting Crew,” he said as if reading her mind.
She strained to make out the words—I just died in your arms tonight…Yeah, she’d do more than that.
Hugging her tighter, he nipped her earlobe, and a violent chill spiraled up her spine. She sighed, already struggling to remain upright, blaming it on slutty-maid-of-honor syndrome. He’d never touched her that way before, and judging by the glassy condition of his eyes, he’d slammed a few too many drinks. Not enough to make him sloppy, though.
The schnapps had taken the edge off for her too, so she threw caution to the wind and risked biting his lower lip. One of his big hands squeezed her ass in response. Maybe if she made another move, he’d do the same—they’d progress like a chess game.
“You’re determined to make me horny as hell, aren’t you, Tina?” This time there was no mistaking the look on his face.
“Tit for tat,” she said.
“Really? Let’s test that theory.”
“No reason to, Vincent. I’m more than willing to play.”
He released her. “Why do you always talk like that?”
“What?” she asked innocently.
“Everything is saturated with sexual innuendo. You want me?”