Valhalla Virus by Nick Harrow (best management books of all time TXT) 📕

doubts and worries he’d wrestled with since her text message had come through earlier in the day. Gunnar didn’t care about the time they’d lost. He didn’t give a shit that Cal Corso, the local crime boss, would happily cut off his head for stepping foot in Vegas after their falling out last year. The bodyguard didn’t even care that Ray had reached out to him because she needed protection.

None of that meant a damned thing next to the crackling heat he felt just looking at the woman standing before him. They’d iron out the details.

Later.

His long arms hooked around Ray’s waist and pulled her close. The bodyguard was nearly as tall sitting down as Ray was standing up, even in her thick-soled boots. He drank in the sight of her as his hands settled on the curves of her hips. Her eyes were like jade pools, her full lips painted the deep, jewel-tone red of pomegranate seeds. She smelled like honey and vanilla wrapped in a caramel haze, a rich and decadent scent that flooded Gunnar’s thoughts with memories of their time together under the desert moon. Those six months were burned into his brain, a kaleidoscope of working hard and playing harder, two kids as high on each other as the jugs of honeysuckle wine they’d downed.

“It’s been too long,” she whispered.

Gunnar pulled her to his chest, crushing their time apart. His left hand traced the silky curves of Ray’s lower back; his right held her tight. The skin-to-skin contact drove a spike through Gunnar’s heart. He needed this woman like he’d never needed anyone else. He brushed his lips across hers and inhaled the intoxicating swirl of her perfume and breath. Ray’s sweet smell kick-started his desire, and Gunnar lost himself. His tongue darted between the soft pillows of her lips, a teasing flicker, before he kissed her long and deep. He was burning up, his desire a raging fever.

Ray’s arms tightened around his neck. She sucked his tongue deep into her mouth and squirmed against him. Finally, she pulled back to gasp for breath. Spots of heat danced on her cheeks, and her pupils became yawning black holes as she stared hungrily at Gunnar. She licked her lips and hesitated, as if she had something to say, then cradled his face in her hands.

“We don’t have to,” he started. “I don’t expect anything for helping you, if that’s what—”

Ray put a finger to Gunnar’s lips and shook her head. The silky strands of her hair hissed across her bare shoulders. “I’ve wanted this for five years,” she whispered. “Shut up and do me already.”

Gunnar leaned in, and the world vanished in a whirlwind of burning passion. He lost himself in the scorching kisses, reveled in the warmth of Ray’s sun-bronzed skin, and marveled at the wet, hot, depths of the hunger they shared. Ray’s skirt rucked up into a wrinkled black band above her hips as he pulled her up to straddle his lap. A quick tug freed her from the flimsy tube top and revealed milky-white triangles in stark contrast to her suntanned skin and the stiff, pink tips of her nipples. A memory of their first meeting, Ray laying out on her lab coat in the middle of the desert, her glistening bronze body covered only by the smallest of bikinis, staring at him over a pair of aviator shades, rushed back to him. She had the same look in her eyes now, wanton and eager.

“Too many clothes,” he grumbled and peeled his shirt off, raining road grit onto the pillows behind him. He reached for his zipper, and Ray slapped his hands away.

“Nobody unwraps my presents but me,” she said with a feral grin. She pressed her palms flat against Gunnar’s chest, then curled her fingers until the dagger-like red points dimpled his skin. She kneaded him like a cat, her nails moving in a smooth rhythm as her hands glided down his body to his abdomen, then lower to the waistband of his jeans. Ray rocked against him, rubbing against his length through his jeans, her eyes half lidded, her breath short, sharp gasps.

Gunnar reached up to tease the swollen buds of her nipples, rolling them between his index fingers and thumbs. When Ray’s rocking became more feverish, he tugged on the sensitive nubs and raised his hips to meet her. His breath caught in his throat when Ray leaned forward, her long black hair dangling down in sleek curtains on either side of his face. In that moment, they were alone in the space between desperate breaths, their gazes fused as their bodies moved together.

Ray rose onto her knees and yanked the top button of Gunnar’s jeans loose. She ripped the zipper down with a rasping hiss and pulled him free of his clothes. Her fingers closed around his length, squeezing. She licked her lips, and a shiver ran through her body. She eased forward, one hand next to Gunnar’s head as the other pulled him toward the dripping heat between her thighs. She rubbed herself down his length, moaning softly as she glided back and forth, coating Gunnar with her slippery heat. She held him, poised at her opening, eyes fever bright. “Goddamn but I missed you.”

Gunnar lifted his hips to meet Ray. They crashed together again and again, grinding their bodies against one another with desperate need. Gunnar groaned and clutched Ray’s hips as she rose and fell onto him. They moved together with practiced ease, every motion stoking the fires of their mutual lust until the room echoed with their fierce cries. Ray leaned back as Gunnar thrust up into her, hands cupping her breasts, head thrown back to let her guttural moans crash into the ceiling. The bodyguard pounded into her, burying himself in her greedy body, relishing the delicious friction of her muscles contracting around him in one powerful spasm after another.

Ray cried out and collapsed against him, her body quaking with animal delight as waves