Her armor of denial was cracking, but it still held on. Torsten wrestled with the desire to tell her more, to spill every lie Lars begged him to keep because of their friendship. Hell, one look into those gorgeous green eyes and he wanted to tell her the secrets he kept from the whole world, like selling drugs for food as a child, or spending the night in jail just to have a bed.
“I know how you’re feeling. I thought I knew him well, too,” he replied. “He was like a brother to me. Little did I know, he was also a master manipulator who’d say or do anything to get what he wanted.”
Helena looked at him coldly, her face still red but her eyes completely dry.
“How do I know you’re not the same as him?”
What alternate universe did I land in and how did I get here?
Searching his room had been futile. Every nook and cranny Helena inspected had zero indication of drugs, cash, or escorts. But she knew Torsten was at least somewhat intelligent and crafty. For all she knew, he was just as good of a liar as Lars, if not better. Maybe he was smart, but she could be smarter. She just couldn’t give up.
But her emotional outburst was beyond embarrassing. She wanted to sink the floor and disappear. Once the words flew out of her mouth, she couldn’t stop the raw pain from bursting out of her. She wanted to fling her pain at him like knives so he felt exactly what he made her feel. But this was Torsten. She didn’t know if he even could feel heartbroken.
She couldn’t believe her night turned out this way, sitting on the floor in the hotel room of her worst enemy, the person she wanted to drag down to rock bottom with her. She cried like a baby while he held her hands and spoke gently to her. The heat from his hands warmed her to her core and felt intoxicating.
This, whatever this was she felt between them, permeated through her body and soul. Torsten only held her by the hands, but she was powerless in his touch. A magnetic connection that felt greater than the two of them, unlike anything she felt for another person before.
And why was he being so sympathetic about what happened to Lars? Why bother comforting me at all? He acted like he never played a role in it, that lying asshole.
He also said nothing when she suggested he was just like Lars. That was just as bad as an admission of guilt, right?
“I’m sorry for breaking in. I should leave.” Reluctantly, she let go of Torsten’s hands and rose to her feet.
He shrugged nonchalantly at the apology. “If you wanted to come to my room, you could have asked me.”
She felt her face grow hot as she stammered out a reply.
“No, I didn’t-,”
“I know, I’m fucking with you.” He stood towering over her like a muscular wall, the slightest hint of a smile playing at his lips. “Don’t take everything so seriously, Helena.”
Arrogant prick. He’s enjoying playing with me.
Her skin prickled with heat and desire as his eyes shamelessly roamed over her body. She felt massively vulnerable, naked, as she knew he pictured her in his filthy mind. And yet, her skin begged to feel him touch her again.
“I can see why he never brought you around,” Torsten mused casually.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” She regretted the question instantly. If he really found her that repulsive, her fragile ego would prefer not to know.
“Let’s just say his faithful wife wouldn’t have been so faithful.” Torsten’s smile grew wider. He was thoroughly enjoying this.
“What the fuck are you saying? I’d never cheat on Lars!”
Torsten shrugged again.
What an insufferable asshole.
“Are you so sure? You’d be the most beautiful woman in the room and every man would throw themselves at your feet to prove they were better than your junkie husband. Not that it would take a huge effort.”
Helena stared at him.
Wait, is he complimenting me?
“Of course, if I were there,” he continued. “No other man would dare to touch you.”
With that, he stepped in close enough that she felt his hot breath on her lips. His presence overwhelmed her like a heat wave. Her whole body cried out for a touch, anything, just to feel desired again. She knew he was toying with her, but her resolve weakened. She had no idea why, but he acted like he wanted her. This huge, powerful man who could have any supermodel he wanted, and he was inches away from kissing her.
“Compared to what he did, love, would cheating on that bastard really be so bad?” His voice rumbled from deep in his chest, and he stood so closely she could feel the sound vibrating from within him. His voice may as well have been vibrator right against her clit.
Her eyes dropped away from his again, and this time fell to his crotch. She nearly gasped at the sight of his massive hard-on pointing straight at her through his pants.
Oh my God! Does he really want… me?
“But we’re just speaking in hypotheticals. There’s no one for you to cheat on anymore.”
“What do you want from me?” She feared the answer but was also dying to know.
He replied by pressing her back against the wall, his hand cradling the back of her neck. He stepped in to close the distance and pin her between his body and the wall. His erection pressed against her stomach, his pants damp with precum. Before she could protest, his mouth pressed against hers.
She tried to pull away but her head against the wall rendered unable to move. His tongue probed her lips apart and she found herself opening her mouth to him. A soft moan unintentionally escaped her lips. His mouth felt
good, a mix of softness from his lips and tongue, and roughness from his beard. He kissed her with passion and intensity, and yet enough gentleness to let her respond and kiss back.
One of his hands crept up her stomach to her breasts and a sharp thrill ran through her, but her mind raced with bewilderment.
He was my ex’s boss and best friend! How can this be happening? Does he just want to fuck me as a conquest? Isn’t there some kind of bro-code against this?
She gasped as his hand slid inside the top of her dress to cup the fullness of her breast. At the same time, his mouth trailed down her neck to the hot, tender spot between her neck and shoulder.
Suddenly, he pulled away and walked briskly across the hotel room.
Helena took a few seconds to awaken from her arousal-induced haze before she saw he was scrolling through a phone.
Her hands flew to her chest.
He saw she stored everything down the front of her dress and copped a feel to steal her phone.
“Give me that!” She ran toward him and grabbed for it, but he easily dodged her reach.
“Hmm, nice selfies,” he said with a delighted smirk.
“I’m fucking serious, Torsten! Give me back my phone!”
“Fine, here you go.”
She snatched it from his hand and furiously returned to the start of the picture app.
No, he didn’t!
“You asshole, did you delete that picture?” she demanded.
“I did. That girl didn’t do anything to you and she deserves her privacy.” He pulled out a cigarette and lit it casually.
Her heart sank as the panic set in. That picture was the only thing she had on Torsten. Maybe it wasn’t worth much like he said, but she hoped it would cover her rent and yes, tarnish his image if even a little.
She also couldn’t help but feel a sting of rejection. He wasn’t actually attracted to her. He only kissed and touched her to get to that photo.
“What am I going to do now?” she said aloud to no one.
“If you need money, I’ll give it to you. I’m sure Lars owes you plenty.” Saying that while shrouded in cigarette smoke made Torsten look like some kind of crime boss.
“I’m not taking money from you!” she hissed. “Everything I make, I earn. That’s how I’ve always done it.”
“Ah, and what an honest living you’re making,” Torsten said scornfully. “Breaking into hotel rooms, invading my privacy, and taking photos without permission. Keep up the good work, love.”
Why does he always say love? Is he trying to be British or something?
“Here’s an idea, Helena,” he began lightheartedly. “Stay the night with me. I’ll be the best fuck you’ve ever had and you’ll forget all about your ex-husband. Tomorrow you can publish a story detailing your night with the God of Heavy Metal. A firsthand account! The papers will eat it up.”
For the first time that evening Helena felt pure, seething anger. He really thought she would prostitute herself like that?
“You’re a special kind of asshole, Torsten,” she spat.
“I bet you are! You enjoy comforting me, then insulting me, then kissing me, then stealing from me, then suggesting I whore myself to you? All in one night! You’ve got some fucking nerve.”
He said nothing in response but continued smoking like some ultra-cool bad boy out of a movie. His eyes pierced through the smoky veil, clear and cold as a shimmering pool.
Helena knew she should leave, but those eyes froze her in place. In the off chance he decided to give a straight answer, she asked one more time.
“What do you want from me?”
He shrugged his chiseled shoulders again. That infuriating fucking shrug.
“You broke into my room, in case you forgot.”
She had enough of his arrogance and stormed to the door. With one motion, she grabbed the handle and pulled it open. Before leaving, she said bitingly, “You want to fuck with me? Two can play at that game.” She turned and slammed the door behind her.
The moment his door closed, Torsten sauntered over to the bathroom and turned on the shower. As he peeled his sweaty, smoke-filled clothes off, he noticed the separate Jacuzzi tub in his peripheral vision. What a damn shame he wouldn’t share that with anyone tonight.
As he slid his boxer briefs down his thighs, his rock-hard cock sprang free. With a frustrated sigh, his hand drifted down the ridges of his stomach to the base of his cock. Stepping under the stream of steaming water, he gripped his shaft and began to stroke himself.
Gorgeous fucking Helena. Why did she have to be so infuriatingly loyal to Lars? I have to admire her for that, to be honest. She’s fiercely loyal and protective of her relationships.
He closed eyes as the scalding water cascaded over him, imagining her smell and taste of her mouth as his balls tensed heavily and his shaft became a rigid pipe.
In his mind, those pretty lips formed that perfect O as he drove his cock into her, her luscious tits bouncing softly from the impact. Her hot pussy gripped him like a vice as he pressed down on that hard, unforgiving clit. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she screamed his name.
As he came, he groaned while leaning one arm against the shower wall to steady himself. He imagined his milky white come pulsing out of his swollen head onto Helena’s lovely chest and belly, rather than washing down the drain.
She wasn’t just a smoking hot woman, there was something else there. He knew what chemistry and connection felt like, this was even beyond that. Yeah, kissing her to get the phone was a dirty trick but once his lips touched hers, he felt under a spell.
And he needed more of her. He didn’t care that she was Lars’ ex.
As his heartbeat slowed to normal, he rested his forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall. The long day and intense night of performing were catching up to him, setting in the fatigue.
“Your bullshit is still affecting me, brother,” he murmured out loud.
He wondered what Lars would do if he knew Helena took his scapegoating so seriously, that she was playing Nancy Drew paparazzi, meddling in his business, to avenge the man she believed her husband to be.
“You probably wouldn’t give a shit,” he murmured again as he shut the water off.
You’d make more excuses as to why it’s not your fault.
Helena’s anguished expression when she sank to the floor pulled at his heart strings a little. She really loved him, and he treated her like shit. What she attempted to do tonight, Lars was too cowardly to do the same for her.
Dripping water as he stepped out of the shower, Torsten grabbed a towel and wiped steam off the bathroom mirror before toweling himself off. After a minute, he paused and stared at his reflection in the mirror.
I might be an arrogant prick, but I earned the right to be. I fought tooth, nail, blood and bone to reach this success. I came from nothing and created something recognized by the whole country, and soon the whole world. I’m not easily ruined, but I won’t tolerate lies being spread about me.
In that moment, he made his decision.
He would work to undo Lars’ damage and set the record straight with Helena. Not because he was worried what she’d say to the press, but simply because she was a passionate, righteous woman who deserved to know the truth.
If the truth just happened to steer her into his bed, that would be a bonus. Even after his shower he could still taste her mouth, still feel her warm, soft breast in his hand and that budding little nipple.
“Your shitty web of lies is going to backfire on you, brother,” he told his reflection with a chuckle. “I’m going to make Helena wish she never met you.”
Helena woke with a start, blinked a few times, then groaned. She had been dreaming extremely vividly right up to the point of waking. A sex dream. A kinky sex dream. About Torsten.
God damn fucking Torsten.
Being wildly attracted to her worst enemy was nothing short of torturous.
With another groan, she dragged herself out of bed. It was going to be a long day. She showered, dressed, and ate breakfast all on autopilot. Coffee in hand, she settled in front of her laptop.
Half the day would be job searching. Her previous job had been financial reporting. That job kept Lars and herself afloat while he floundered early in his career. Somehow, she continued to support them after Mjolnir’s success took off like a rocket. Lars always claimed he had to pay off some debt or another. Soon after they separated, her firm fired her for missing too many days of work. Late night trips with Lars to the ER and lack of sleep caught up to her and cost her a dream job. At the time, she’d say it was worth it to keep her man from overdosing. But lately, she wasn’t so sure.