I knock on Thor’s townhouse door. Waiting a minute or two, I knock again—or more like pound, using the side of my fist instead of my knuckles. I have no friggin’ clue how loud I’m actually knocking. I could be signaling my arrival to his neighbors five units down, at the end of the cul-de-sac, for all I know. I should text him when I get here, instead.
Thor tears the door open, wearing nothing but gray jogging pants. He’s always in a perpetual state of undress (not that I’m complaining). Why isn’t he ready for the party? I glance down at my black skater dress, the one with the see-through neckline. Maybe I’m too overdressed for the party?
Cocking my head, I eye him, and gesture with an open palm, his choice of party attire. Grabbing my hand, he hauls me inside, not wasting a minute before kissing me.
Dear Lord, can this man kiss…among other things. Locking my arms around him, I melt into his warmth.
His hands slide down the backs of my arms, and he pulls away. “Bedroom. Now.” He signs.
My heart still pinches when he signs, giving an extra thump in appreciation. “Bedroom? What about the party?” I ask.
“Later.” He signs. The fact that we can converse in short, signed sentences makes me incredibly giddy. “I want to keep you mine for just a little bit longer.”
What does he mean? “I am yours.”
Kissing the top of my hand, he fits his fingers between mine, and leads me through the living, into the kitchen, and up the stairs. Making an immediate right on the landing, he pulls me into his room, shuts the door, and kisses me again, harder this time.
His tongue slips between my lips, brushing against my mine. Heat blooms between my legs. With Thor, I’m always ready. Can’t get enough of him.
Trailing his hand down my back, I feel the teeth of the zipper on my dress giving way. At the small of my back, he stops, my dress sliding off my body in a puddle of material at my feet. I should pick it up, but Thor’s already moved onto my bra, flipping the hooks apart—one, two, three.
His eyes roam over every one of my curves, like a man locked in a Corvette dealership. Bringing his left hand up, he grazes the side of my breast and my legs threaten to give out from under me.
Moving his fingers inches lower, they travel to the underside, cupping me. I keep my eyes on his face, but he isn’t looking at me, my tits have his undivided attention at the moment. It’s like he’s memorizing the way they lay, round and heavy against my chest.
His thumbs circle around my nipple, but don’t make contact. Teasing. Sweet, sweet torment.
I suck in a breath, my head lolling back, absorbing every sensation. I want to remember all the places he touches me.
This is excruciating, welcomed torture. With Thor and me it’s always full throttle, one of us demanding, spurring the other to go faster, but this…the way his fingers only make contact with the smallest amount of my skin, it’s driving me mad.
He continues his slow, languid journey over my chest, exploring every inch of me, with only his fingertips. Eyes closed, open mouthed, I breathe faster and fuller, deliberately lifting my chest with each inhalation, begging him to touch more…take more. My legs shake, muscles burning…can’t stand much…longer. I need to touch him, for him to hold me. Have his body on mine…in mine.
I flick my eyes open, reaching for his chest. I want him close. I’m dying to run my hands over his piercing. It’s so hot. I love the way his breath hitches and how his moans vibrate in his chest when I touch it. But he steps away, shaking his head. “My turn. Just enjoy.” Again, he signs this response, flawlessly.
Now I’m turned on as hell. I lean in to kiss him, show him how much it means to me that he wants to communicate the way I do. His left hand disappears from my chest, and comes between us. With an infinitesimal shake of his head, he signs, “No.” against my lips, a shameless smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
No, huh? Not going to let me touch you yet? Pushing my boundaries, I open my mouth and drag my tongue along the side of his index finger. Defiance and longing burning up my insides. I can taste the lingering scent of his last cigarette.
His eyes go wide. I know he hates his hands, how beat up and rough they are. He’s said before that his hands don’t look right on my body, that I’m too soft…that his hands only sully my perfection. I disagree.
I circle my tongue around the tip of his index finger, sliding it between the pinched “No” sign. I feel his breath hitch, see his shoulders rise.
I love his hands. Talented, skilled, beautiful. Able to coax music from a silent instrument. They can make a car purr with life. Gentle. Protective. Strong. Loud when they speak.
Holding his gaze, I continue my little rebellion, pulling more of his finger into my mouth. Like the base of a flame, blue fire burns in his eyes. He shakes his head. “You are so naughty.” I read on his lips, feeling the vibration of the words rumbling against his mouth.
Stealing his hand away, he places both of them on each side of my waist, dropping to his knees. The tip of his nose brushes side-to-side against my stomach and his shoulders rise.
Circling my arms around the back of his head, my fingers brush over his close-cropped scalp, each scratch igniting more longing inside me. Thor presses his cheek to the softness of my belly, and I hold him tighter.
How can I long for him to be closer than he already is?
I’ve fallen for him, that’s why. He consumes me, heart and soul.
Thor trails his hands downward, over the curve of my ass, the backs of my thighs, until they rest on my lower hips. I keep working my fingers over his hair as he plants tiny kisses across my stomach. I gasp when his tongue dips into my belly button, and I press him closer.
Moving his palms up the front of my thighs, his fingers continue their northward pursuit, hooking inside the waistband of my black lace thong. Slowly, he peels his body away from mine as he drags my panties down.
I watch him and our eyes meet. His are dark and hooded, dangerous and sexy. Desire crashes into me, sending my insides flipping and rolling in the onslaught. My legs quiver, bending at the knees. I have to use Thor’s head for support, catching myself before I fall.
Thor’s quick, wrapping his arms around my legs to keep me from crashing. Once my balance is restored, he winks—knowing good and well the effect he’s having on me and loving every minute of it—bringing his left hand down my calf…my ankle, he takes my panties along for the ride.
Stepping out of the pile of my discarded clothes, Thor puts his hands at my waist and gently pushes me backward, while he shuffles along on his knees. When the backs of my legs hit the edge of the bed, I fall, my breath catching in my throat.
Thor licks his lips, his hands resting on my knees. Slowly, he pushes my legs apart, never taking his eyes away from mine. He comes closer, fitting between me. Fitting his hands under my legs, he grips my ass, and yanks me toward him.
I surrender. Leaning back, but keeping my torso off the bed, I rest my upper body weight on my arms.
Pulling his hands free, he signs, “Don’t lie back. I want you to watch.”
Oh. Dear. Lord.
I nod, excitement and a hunger growing inside me.
Pressing my knees wider, he exhales. His warm breath hits me between the legs, fanning out over my center and inner thighs. It takes all my strength not to collapse on the bed. The second he touches me, all bets are off. I may not be able to hold out. But, dammit, I want to watch.
No more than an inch separates me from his mouth. I shift, lifting my ass off the bed, desperate to close the gap between us, but his hands clamp down on my legs, biceps bulging, and he halts my advance.
Thor shakes his head, his eyes flicking to mine. My legs hold him captive, and I can feel the vibrations of his low chuckle. With a wicked gleam in his eye, and a grin to match, he speaks. His lips move. Vocal cords vibrate. Sound waves travel from his body and into mine. “My fifty, need girl. So impatient.”
Fifty, need girl? What the hell kind of dirty talk is that? Lust has fried my brain. I can’t anymore. Lipreading capabilities have ceased. I may not know what he actually said, but I understand the last sentence clear as day.
I nod, lifting my right hand. “Yes. For you.” So goddamn impatient.
His smirk grows wider, a hint of teeth peeking out from behind his lips. Leaning in, he exhales again. Along with his teasing breath comes another round of pummeling desire, swallowing me whole, like a wave in the ocean.
I drop my head back, dying…wanting and waiting for that blissful second when our bodies connect.
Thor’s fingertips press into the tops of my thighs, and I lift my head.
“Watch me, Red.”
I lip-read every word this time. I watch him.
He moves closer, his nose making contact first, brushing lightly, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves at my center, sending a cascade of longing down my spine and into my toes.
Then it’s his tongue, moving upward, over my folds with firm pressure, ending with a swirling motion around my clit. Arms shaking, I try to hold myself up. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I can’t tear my eyes away. But I can’t take anymore. I want to lie back, let my legs fall open, and give myself to him, body and soul.
I sit up a little more and hold my weight on my right arm, wrapping my left around his head, pressing him further against me.
His tongue is magic. There are no other words for it. I lift my hips to his mouth, grinding against him. Panting, my breath coming faster. I hold him tighter, refusing to let go.
The ache at my core is ready to burst.
Thor drives his hand under my ass and yanks me against his mouth, fucking me with his tongue. The rhythms of our bodies are the perfect choreography to push me over the edge.
And I lose it.
My body quakes, white light shoots through the darkness of my closed lids, and a long breathy sigh escapes my mouth.
Pulling away, Thor smiles at me with a devilish grin, pride beaming from his eyes. I came hard, he should be proud of himself. There’s no denying the man’s skills.
Fumbling to sit up, my body weak and boneless, Thor slaps his palm against mine, helping me up. “We’re just getting started, sweetheart.” He signs, dropping his pants to the floor, his erection springing free.
I can’t help it; my eyes shine bright and wide. It’s like getting to eat chocolate and peanut butter every day for the rest of my life. Only it’s Thor and infinitely better.
His body on full display, I rake my eyes over each hard, inked, muscled line. His taut abs twitch. Will he let me touch yet? Is it my turn to reduce him to a quivering mass of satiated bliss?
Planting my feet on the floor, I stand. At my full height, the top of my head barely comes to the center of his chest. But I like it this way. When I rest my head on him, my cheek is directly over his heart.
I crane my neck to look at him, placing my hands at his waist, fingers brushing over his rigid V-cut. On my tiptoes, I reach up, begging him to meet me halfway, needing to feel his mouth on mine.
He understands. Folding his arms around me, he bends, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. He tastes like me. My heart thumps heavy in my chest, a heady desire spreads through me, and I’m ready for more.
Our kiss is slow and consuming. I don’t know when his breath becomes mine, but I take it willingly. Needing it. I want him inside me in every way he can be.
Thor, without loosening his grip, or breaking our kiss, walks us to the bed. Gently, he lays me down, his body covering mine. Spreading my legs, he fits between them. His dick presses so close to where I want it. Naughty girl that I am, I lift my hips, making the tip of his cock slide over my clit.
God, yes!
I do it again. And again.
Yessss!
And again.
Lifting and sliding. A glorious rhythm, giving way to so much need. Each time I push the limit, guiding him to my opening, hoping he slips inside.
Thor pushes my shoulders, and I fall back onto the mattress. He covers me, his entire body pressed to mine. Kissing down my cheek, to my neck, his strong arms holding me to him. I sign against his back. “God, you feel amazing. Take me, T-H-O-R.”
He lifts slightly, and already, I’m missing his weight. Opening my eyes, I stare up at him. The dark stubble on his jaw is a little more rugged, like he hasn’t trimmed it up in a day or two, giving him an edgier look.
“You are so hot.”
“Are you signing against my back?” he asks, smiling.
Grinning, I do it again. “Yes.”
“Don’t stop. I love it.” He kisses me again. Deeper this time. How is that even possible?
And then he stops.
“What’s going on?”
Looking over his shoulder, toward the door, he climbs off me, and holds up his index finger, as he walks to the door. Holy shit. Someone’s here!
Scrambling, I claw at the blanket on the bed, and pull it over my legs and chest, covering myself. Thor’s got the door cracked, hiding his body behind it, talking to someone. Craning my neck, I try to peek around the door, to see who it is.
Thor shuts the door and turns around, shrugging. “Sorry. Roommate.” Walking back to the bed, he cuts to the side, making his way to the nightstand. Pulling open a drawer, he rummages around, and holds up a small foil wrapper between his fingers. “Where were we?”
I don’t need to read his lips this time, his actions are screaming. Ripping open the packet, Thor rolls the condom over his dick. Even with the interruption, he’s still rock-hard.
Tossing back the blanket, he jumps into bed. Oh!
Grabbing my hips, he jerks me down on the mattress, and kicks his leg over my waist, pinning me beneath him.
He pierces me with his sky-blue eyes and my breath evens out, in awe of the beautiful man on top of me. How far we’ve come in such a short time together.
I’ve picked up and committed to memory so many of his subtle traits, little pieces of him that speak louder than any words can. I know you, Thorin Kline.
I touch the pulse at the side of his neck, feeling his life beneath my fingertips, thumping a hurried beat as his emotions run high. I know the horizontal creases on his forehead, markers of how much he carries, but doesn’t share. Swiping my fingers above his brow, I smooth the lines, wanting to lighten his load. Let me in, baby.
Thor searches my face, giving a small shake of his head.
I know this look, too. It’s a question. How are you here with me?
It’s the same question I ask myself. Thor and I are so different. Tattoos and freckled porcelain. Hearing and deaf. But, when we’re together, the lines blur. Ink gets smeared all over the glass, and the contrast fades. We’re one. Without even a word, we know what the other needs. We reside in the other’s universe and understand.
His eyes speak of passion and longing, the way a flame whispers over paper, consuming it. Boring into his gaze, I lift my hands between us. “Consume me, Thor.” I sign against his lips. “Set me on fire. Burn me up.”
Brushing the hair off my cheek, he hovers at my center. He kisses my fingers, and he pushes inside so slowly, inch by inch, filling and stretching me. Stealing my breath away.
My lids flutter closed. Can’t…concentrate. Feels…so…good.
I tighten around him, throwing my arms around his neck, lifting my pelvis. Take me, Thor. I need him to quiet the ache between my legs.
Languidly, he pulls out, teasing. My breath hitches, and he slides back in, burying himself deeper. Rolling his hips with each deliberate, calculated thrust.
“More,” I sign on his back, mouthing the words so he can see. “Please.”
Harder. Faster.
“More of what, baby?” He pushes into me, thrusting just a little harder than before. “This?” Quicken his pace by a half-beat he pulls back out, and slams into me again.
“Again.” I buck my hips, spurring him on.
Obliging my request, he pumps into me, faster and faster, building tension inside me like an architect. His dick hits so deep. Oh, yes!
I climb higher and higher until there’s nowhere for me to go…until I want to fall.
To let go.
To scream.
It’s right there, a ball of suppressed emotion, charged sexual energy, sitting in the back of my throat, ready to be unleashed.
Our bodies rocking together, he brings me to the edge.
Covering me, he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and I…
I almost…
Now’s your chance, Harper. Let him hear you.
Seventeen years of silence and Thor makes me want to speak. To shout his name.
He slams into me at the same time his tongue pushes past my lips. Kissing me deep, our tongues thrusting to the same rhythm as our bodies.
Thor’s groan rumbles against my mouth, and my chest, he moves into me one last time, and I’m gone. My body hums…so fucking alive. I clamp down around him, my hands on his ass, begging him to stay, to drive into me farther…to fuck me with every inch of his dick.
He pushes. And I force him closer.
Oh, God! Thor!
The words are on my tongue. I want him to have them. To hear what he does to me.
What if he hates it? What if it turns him off?
He pulls out, slamming into me again. And again. Chasing his own release.
And I swallow the words lodged in my throat.
I won’t ruin this for him.
Two more thrusts and he’s gone. The “Fuuuuuck,” that roars from his mouth, resonates through my body. He shutters, collapsing on top of me.
We lie still for a while, catching our breath. Thor’s head, pressed against my chest, rises and falls whenever I inhale and exhale. Along with the scratch of his hair under my palm, he’s pulled me into a hypnotic, post-O trance.
Lifting his head, he puts his chin between my boobs, and smiles at me. He brings his hand up, and traces an outline around my lips. “Since the first day I saw you…” He pauses, touching the left side of my mouth. “I’ve loved your smile. Right here”—he taps—“it’s just a little higher than the other side.”
My smile’s crooked? Self-consciously, I smile through a frown, touching the left side of my mouth, pulling and tugging at the corners, measuring.
“Stop.” Thor sets a vertical hand on top of his open palm. “It’s beautiful.” With his hands on the mattress—one on each side of me—he does a push-up, crashes his mouth against the left side of my “crooked” smile, and hauls himself out of bed. “Party time.” He grins and turns around, giving me a lovely view of his perfect ass.
Thor disappears out of the bedroom, and into the hallway, heading in the direction of the bathroom. After that workout, I’d much rather just stay cuddled in bed all night. But, tonight’s important to Thor. And I finally get to meet his friends. That’s huge.
Flinging the blanket off, I dangle my feet over the side of the bed, while I glance around the room. My clothes remain in a crumpled heap in the center of his floor. Great. I have sex hair and my dress is a wrinkled mess. It won’t take a bunch of rock musicians long to figure out why Thor’s late for the party.
Taking inventory of my sex-crazed hair, I pat and shove the defiant curls back into submission.
Feet hitting the ground, I stalk over to the pile of black fabric, picking up my panties, bra, and then my dress. Wrinkled as fuck. Damn.
Thor returns, standing in the doorway, pulling on a pair of boxer briefs, eyebrows wagging. “I can get used to coming in my room and seeing this view.” He moves his hand up and down gesturing at my nakedness.
Shaking out my dress, I give him a pointed glare. I can’t really be mad at him, I was a very willing participant, but if I need to blame someone for my less than stellar appearance when meeting his friends for the first time, I’m bestowing him the honor.
Laying my clothes out on the bed, hoping some time away from the heap will help the wrinkle situation, I head toward the bathroom, myself. Putting a hand on Thor’s stomach I slip between him and doorway. Before I’m in the hallway, I feel Thor’s hand on my arm.
Turning around, I look up at him.
“Can I ask you something?”
He really has gotten good at signing. My heart pinches in my chest, impressed and so touched. “Anything.” I nod.
“When we”—he points to the bed—“when you came. I thought for a minute…It seemed like…” He stops.
I wait a few beats, giving him time to recall his words and signs.
“That you wanted to say something. That you were going to talk. Am I right?”
How did he now? Moving my head up and down, I sign, “Yes. I almost did.”
“Why did you hold back?”
It hits me. How much he’s put into this relationship. How hard he’s trying. We’re speaking the same language. He’s signing, and I understand him. He understands me. Tears burn my eyes. Besides Chloe, no other person in my life has ever made an effort to communicate with me. “I wanted to. I got scared.”
“Why?” His brows pinch together. “Harper, you don’t E-V-E-R have to be scared with me.”
Thor stares at me for a minute, his blue eyes darkening. Shoulders slumped, he walks over to the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. I don’t think I could have hurt him any worse than if I had taken a baseball bat to Lizzy.
Padding across the room, I pull the sheet off the bed and wrap it around my shoulders, taking a seat beside him. I know how much he wants to hear my voice. He’s asked me before. But, tonight proved that I can’t. Even with the intimacy of being as close as two people can possibly be, I still couldn’t. I wanted to…I just couldn’t.
I bump my shoulder into his, getting his attention. “Why is it so important to you?” Asking the question, a little flare of anger ignites in my belly. Yes, I know what he wants. But what about what I want? It’s my choice. If I don’t want to speak, I don’t have to. Why does he keep pressing the issue?
“I want to hear your voice so fucking bad.”
So, having me the way I am isn’t enough? The anger inside me isn’t a flare, but a grenade and his words just pulled the pin. Grabbing my panties off the mattress, I shove one leg in at a time, then go to work on my bra. Getting dressed the first time was a hell of a lot easier.
Thor watches as I yank and tug my dress into place. Scanning the room for my shoes, I don’t see them. Come to think of it, I don’t remember taking them off. They’ve got to be downstairs.
Without a word, I walk to the doorway. His hand lands on my arm. Glancing over my shoulder, I see his lips move. “Where are you going?”
I whirl on him. “I’m leaving.” I clip my signs, anger coursing through my body. “I’m tired of you asking me to do something I’m not willing to give you. Seventeen years. I haven’t spoken a goddamn word in seventeen fucking years. Respect my choices and leave it alone.” I drop my hands, shoulder’s heaving. I’d be surprised if he got all of that, but right now, I’m so pissed, I could give zero fucks.
“You know what?” he yells. I know he’s yelling because his mouth opens wider than it does when he speaks. And I can see the anger exploding in his eyes. “I’ve busted my ass learning ASL for you.” He points to me, poking a finger in my chest. “I want to communicate with you. I wish you cared to do the same for me.”
Oh, so we’re going to play the Who Cares More game, huh? Fuck you, Thorin Kline. “I was stupid to ever think a relationship with a hearing person could ever work. You don’t understand. And let’s not forget about all the secrets you keep from me. If you cared, you’d tell me what’s going on with your mom. What shit your dad has done. I’m so tired of you pushing me away. Not trusting ME!”
Turing my back to him, I leave his room, and run down the stairs. In the living room, I grab my discarded shoes lying in front of the door, turn the knob and get the fuck out of his place before he comes after me.
Unlocking the Bug, I climb inside and push the engine start button. Bolting out of the parking lot, I head toward home, tears blurring my vision.
* * *
Fitting the key in the door, I push it open, already hating myself. What have I done? Bobby wags his tail at my feet, jumping up on his back legs, dancing around. Not even his Instagram-worthy mugging can pull me out of this slump. I want to sit on the couch, hide under my car blanket, eat a bowl of chocolate ice cream as big as my head, and dump peanut butter cups on top until I puke.
Chloe, sitting on the couch, looks up from the laptop perched on crisscrossed legs. Her large, black framed glasses sitting on the tip of her nose, she cocks her head and pushes them up. “What happened to you? You look like Bobby when he gets kicked out of your bedroom on nights Thor sleeps over.” She pats the couch.
Falling onto the cushion beside her, Bobby jumps on my lap, licking my face. I pat his head, scooping him into my arms, hugging him.
“I won’t have to kick him out anymore.”
“What happened?”
Shaking my head, I let all the sadness, anger, and confusion come pouring out. I lay my head on Chloe’s shoulder, tears slipping from my eyes. “He wants to hear my voice.”
“Oh.” More than anyone, Chloe knows how much I hate speaking. She accepts that about me and doesn’t push.
“If the two people in my life, who are supposed to love me no matter what, preferred it better when I didn’t speak, why in the hell would Thor want to hear me?”
Chloe shrugs, remaining quiet for a beat, then raises her hands. “That’s where trust comes in.”
I lift my head to look at her. “Trust? That’s a two-way street. How can I trust someone who doesn’t trust me? I’ve begged him to let me in. To trust me with the secret he keeps bottled up inside. And he stays quiet.” Standing, I tuck Bobby under my arm and wipe my eyes on my shirtsleeve. “That first date was a mistake. How many hearing boys do I have to go out with before I learn my lesson? I will never be enough the way I am.”
Before Chloe can convince me I’m wrong, I turn on my heel, and hit the stairs. Bobby licks my face, knowing just want I need…without me saying a word.