7 — MR THOR…

ASTRID

“I cannot believe you actually wore that dress, you little slut. How bold. I love it.” Gemini croons behind me as we make our way to the bar.

He’s right. I’m surprised at myself as well because this dress is a crime scene.

The slit goes all the way to my crotch. One mistake and my coochie will be on full public display. The back of the dress is non-existent, only held together by two thin strings and a fervent prayer.

The old Astrid would never be caught dead in a dress such as this one. Infact, the last time I went to the club was the night I met Nathan.

When we got together, he claimed that women who frequented clubs only did it for male validation. According to him, a real man would never sit back and watch his woman shake her ass at a club.

But it’s quite funny that Nathan and his friends frequented a strip club every Friday night. I never complained because he claimed it was his way of “unwinding” from work stress and I never wanted to seem like the nagging wife.

Oh, how stupid I was.

My goal tonight is to forget all my worries. Besides, if I want to attract a man, I need to dress the part, no?

Femme Fatale is more luxurious than I imagined. Situated in a quiet upscale neighborhood, armed guards litter the grounds, making me wonder if some celebrity might be visiting the club tonight.

After nursing my strawberry daquiri and getting a load of all the gorgeous, nearly unclad women for twenty minutes, the music finally soaks into my soul and I cannot help the sudden urge to dance.

I get to my feet and pull Gemini to his, leading him to the dance floor.

“Come on, the ladies have been ogling you for the past twenty minutes. Maybe you’ll meet someone on the dance floor.”

“They’ve been ogling me?” He repeats with a scoff. “I wonder why.”

I cannot help the laugh that bubbles up my throat. “You proud cow!”

Gemini Stuart is gorgeous and he’s selfishly aware of that fact.

Thanks to his American father and Italian mother, he has the looks of a runway model, the lifestyle of a playboy and the charisma of a gentleman from the ‘60s.

Coupled with the fact that he’s probably smarter than Einstein himself, women flock to him like bees to honey.

We’ve been dancing for barely five minutes when I feel an odd, tingling sensation at the back of my neck.

Someone is watching me.

Instinctively, I look up and my breath hitches as my eyes lock onto a broad shouldered man standing alone in one of the VVIP booths upstairs.

For the next three seconds, the loud noise of the club melts into non-existence while me and this stranger engage in a vicious stare down.

His aura is magnetic, dangerously so. The sleeves of the white shirt that fits him like a second skin is rolled up, revealing strong, veiny forearms.

Combined with the skull mask that sits perfectly on his angular face, this man exudes a dangerous touch-me-and-die vibe.

Mr. Thor. Yes, that’s a perfect nickname for him.

Either he wanted me to know he was watching or he just doesn’t care that I caught him red-handed, but Mr. Thor does not look away.

Instead, he holds my gaze with a quiet, deadly intensity and to my horror, I feel my thighs clench in response.

Ugh! Pull yourself together, Astrid!

“Gemini, we have to go!” I turn around and yell at my best friend, struggling to be heard above the sound of the thumping music.

I came here to find a man but turns out, I’m not even brave enough to face one.

Gemini is currently glancing at his phone, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

“What’s going on?” I ask with bated breath.

Without saying a word, he pulls me through the crowd until we end up at the bar.

“Wait for me. I need to handle something real quick.”

Without giving me the chance to ask questions, Gemini hurries through the crowd and disappears out the door.

Okay… that was strange.

I risk another glance at the balcony , surprised and relieved to find it empty. The weird ass man is gone.

“Ma’am, do you need another drink?” The cute bartender asks.

I shake my head. “No, thank you.”

My bladder feels like it’s going to explode. “Where’s the bathroom, please?”

He points at a fancy steel door to the left. “Go down that way. Second door to your left.”

“Thanks.”

I turn around and head to the bathroom, failing to notice that the bartender picks up his phone and makes a call while watching my retreating back with dark, hooded eyes…

***

I’m trying to fix my make-up and mask in the huge mirror when my phone suddenly buzzes with an incoming voice message from Gemini.

I play it immediately;

“Uh, Astrid. The valets called to tell me that something was wrong with my car. Apparently, I have two flat tires. I’m not sure how that happened but I’ll get it fixed and come back shortly. Don’t have too much fun without me!”

Oh, bummer. I type a response, expressing my sympathy, and shut my phone off.

Gemini’s car was perfectly fine when we drove here. Two flat tires sounds suspicious as hell to me.

“Now what?” I say out loud to my reflection.

“Simple. You spend the rest of the night with me.”

The deep, sultry voice has me clutching my chest in horror. I spin around and come face-to-face with the stranger from earlier, my heart hammering like a runaway train.

I thought he looked dangerous from afar, but up close, Mr. Thor is downright formidable. His stormy grey eyes are intimidating as hell, and those thick biceps…

Are you Thor’s twin brother by any chance? I almost catch myself asking.

His perfect midnight-black hair is slicked back and held in place by the strings of his mask. This man looks like he could strangle me to death with just one fist.

It doesn’t help that he’s smoky hot, gorgeous enough to be featured on Vogue’s glossy front cover.

“What are you doing in the lady’s bathroom?” I squeak, taking a cautious step backwards.

“I was looking for you, angel.” He says with no iota of hesitation whatsoever.

Angel?

I flick my tongue over my dry lower lip and his eyes follow the movement, darkening with an emotion I recognize all too well. Lust.

It suddenly occurs to me that a random stranger built like a racehorse just cornered me in the bathroom and instead of screaming my lungs out in fear, all I feel is a strange, persistent throbbing in my most intimate lady bits.

I must be going crazy.

“You’re not supposed to be here. Get out.”

“I’m not leaving without you, Astrid. You’re coming with me.”

Wait…what?

“How did you know my name?”

He opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I’m not going anywhere with you, mister. In fact, I was just about to leave.”

I summon the last of my courage and try to dart past him, towards the door.

I don’t succeed.

One moment, I’m headed for freedom and the next, one thick arm bands around my waist and I find myself planted on the bathroom’s cold marble countertop.

Before I can protest, the stranger spreads my quivering thighs and steps between them.

Then with a tone that is lethal enough to melt ice, he looks over his shoulder says to somebody I cannot see;

“Stefan, lock the doors. And make sure no one comes in here until I’m done…”