by Amy Sumida
“Yes,” he growled, “no. Shit. I don't know. I can't expect you to love me after only a week but I guess I expected you to feel something for me. I didn't think this was as base as fucking for you.”
“It's not,” I sighed. Was I going to have to give him therapy every time we had sex? If he hadn't been half naked and completely hot, I would have left. “I was frustrated and blurted that out. I have no filter. In my head, out my mouth. I do feel something for you. Trust me, this wasn't just going to be a good time.”
“It wasn't?” A little spark of interest lightened his look.
“Thor, I haven't had sex in years. Do you really think I'd just jump into the sack with you cause you're hot? That's not how I was raised. If I didn't feel something for you, I wouldn't be here.”
I walked over to him and slid my hand around his waist. He started to smile and reached down to undo my belt. It fell to the floor with a thunk. Then his hands were pulling up the tunic and I was suddenly reminded I had no underwear on. He sucked in his breath and ran a hand lightly over my face, down my neck, between my breasts, and around my waist. I was yanked against him as his lips descended.
I fumbled for his belt and undid his pants without bothering to remove it from the loops. He kicked them off, his boxers quickly following. Then he was pressed against me and I got to feel all of him, especially the hard length rising between us. I reached for it without breaking the kiss and he growled low in his throat as I stroked slowly.
Lightning flashed outside and illuminated the room a second before thunder boomed. With the storm came a chill in the air which was soon replaced by his heat. He smiled down at me, easing between my legs, and I gave myself a moment to enjoy the breadth of him. His massive shoulders were too wide for me to wrap my arms around so I slid my hands down the smooth skin of his chest, then slid them around his waist and up to grip his back.
“You look perfect in my bed,” he rumbled over the rainstorm brewing outside his balcony.
“And you look perfect above me,” I nipped his chin and he chuckled.
His hair trailed across my face as he lowered his mouth to my neck, nibbling and kissing his way to my collarbone, and I inhaled his clean scent. Everywhere he touched seemed to spark to life, dancing tingles spread over me from top to bottom and back again. I felt like I was the center of an electrical circuit, conducting his energy through me and back to him. My exhaustion vanished, fueled by his spark.
His hands trailed down my arms, captured my wrists, and raised them above my head. He left my hands there to trail his fingertips down the underside of my arms and over my breasts. I shook as the tingles spread, tiny blue sparkles glinting from his fingers to my flesh.
“I wanted to take my time with you,” he looked up at me and I was mesmerized for a moment by the lightning flashing against the bright blue of his eyes. “Vervain?”
“We have all night, baby. I don't want to wait anymore,” I slid my hands down to his muscular ass and pulled him closer.
He grinned and gave up resisting. “I don't either.”
The storm outside lashed the walls of Bilskinir with a violence perfectly in tune with our passion. The sound of thunder grew louder and more frequent, the flashes of lightning illuminating the room like snapping halogens, cresting along with us till we all cried out. The storm lashed one final violent time, illuminating the erotic look on Thor's face sharply before subsiding to a light rain. Our heavy breathing replaced the sound of thunder as his head fell to my shoulder and his body collapsed over mine.
Even in his exhaustion, he was considerate, shifting his weight to the side so he wouldn't crush me. He ended up with a leg and an arm draped across me, his face buried in my neck. I smiled, feeling my heartbeat return to normal and enjoying the little aftershocks coursing through my body along with the random blue sparks that still jumped between us.
“Sweet mercy,” I breathed. “What was that?”
“Well it wasn't fucking,” Thor smiled against my neck.
“It was fucking phenomenal,” I smiled back as his hands started to roam again.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I watched the sun rise in Asgard from the bed of a Viking god. It couldn't get much better than that. Unless you added in the fact that I'd yet to go to sleep because said god had kept me up all night with a marathon bout of the most incredible sex I'd ever had. I smiled and snuggled deeper into the blue silk comforter as I sleepily perused Thor's bedroom.
He'd gone to get us coffee and breakfast so I finally had an opportunity to really take a look around. The massive bed I was in was hung with dark blue silk, the thick posters carved with runes and Viking scroll-work. Beyond, the walls were the same dark wood as the bed, divided with pillars carved in the same style and adorned with artwork, and bookshelves. Persian rugs littered the floor haphazardly and antiques were strewn about. In front of the brick fireplace were two chairs upholstered in deep burgundy leather, one with a thick animal pelt thrown over it. Dominating a corner was an amethyst cathedral crystal, standing about waist high on me. Opposite it was a Native American headdress, long feathers trailing to the floor from its stand.
It was the room of a scholar, with piles of books and prime pieces of art from extensive travels. It was the room of a warrior, with weapons of every size and shape hanging proudly on the walls. It was the room of a sensuous man, comfort and seduction oozing from every surface. It was the room of a god.
What the hell was I doing there?
The god himself walked in carrying a tray with a silver coffee pot, two ceramic mugs, and two plates of steaming food. I grinned and sat up, the comforter falling to my waist, forgotten. His eyes glowed appreciatively and my hand shot down to replace the cover. I couldn't handle another round yet.
“Food first,” I waggled a finger at him.
“Puny human,” he teased as he lay the tray on the bedside table and poured me a cup of coffee. “First I want you to see something.” He held a hand out to me and helped me from the bed. “Here,” he picked up a discarded robe and helped me into it before handing me my coffee.
I wobbled a bit and he steadied me with a smug look as I added cream and sugar to my coffee. When I had it perfect, he led me out to the balcony with one hand on me and one carrying the tray of food. He placed the tray on a round wood table there and held out a chair for me. Amazingly, the table and its cushioned chairs had survived the thunderstorm, remaining completely dry. I raised a brow at their obviously untouched condition and Thor smiled.
“Bilskinir is mine. Nothing enters without my permission, not even the rain.”
“Must be nice,” I sipped my coffee as I looked out over Asgard.
Unsurprisingly, his balcony had the best view in Bilskinir. Asgard was laid out before us, the steep cliff we were situated on practically giving us a bird's eye view. Speaking of birds, big white ones darted in and out of sight, their cries carrying gently up to me along with the sound of the surf pounding endlessly on black boulders below us. To the right, I could see a tall stone carved with runes standing right at the cliff's edge, it's twin stood across the open channel on the opposite cliff.
“The guardian stones of Asgard,” Thor said from my left.
“I thought you were the guardian of Asgard,” I smiled at him.
“I am but I'll take all the help I can get,” he smoothed my tangled hair back from my face. “Especially when I have such treasure to protect.”
I blushed and looked into my cup. I should have been used to his sweet talk, he'd been pouring it on thick all night, but I wasn't. It felt like a movie to me, everything too bright and shiny. Life wasn't like that, especially not mine, and it was hard for me to believe someone so perfect could want someone so far from it.
“Those mountains separate my immediate family from the rest of the Norse pantheon,” he pointed to some white-capped massiveness I assumed were his so called mountains. “Although Balder's hall is beyond as well. There runs the herd of Asgard, Odin's favorite horse c
omes from their line,” he gestured to the horses running down a central valley toward the shore of the lake Bilskinir's cliff edged. They pulled up short when they reached the water and hung their heads to drink.
“Are they divine horses?” I pulled my plate over and took a bite of french toast. “Do they listen to the prayers of regular horses?”
“Only Nordic ones,” he winked at me.
“Is that the forest your brother Vali lives in?” I pointed to the trees surrounding the valley.
“Yes,” he smiled at my memory. “He tends to favor the right side, which encloses Valhalla,” he pointed to the shining hall, roofed with golden shields, across the lake from us. “Even though he doesn't visit Father, he still likes to be close to him. Look there,” the sun hit the shields, flashing red and gold, setting the surrounding trees aflame with light. The rest of Asgard seemed to shiver with that first strike of sun. Everything flashed, everything sparkled, though that might have had something to do with all the rain from the previous night. The Viking realm stretched and yawned, sparkled on last time, and came awake.
“Wow,” I breathed, my fork forgotten on my plate.
“That's what I wanted to share with you,” he smiled and took my hand to place a quick kiss on it.
“Thank you,” I gave him a squeeze.
“I want you to feel at home here, darling.”
“That may take some time,” I chuckled but stopped when he frowned. “I just meant it's a lot to take in, a lot to get comfortable with, but it's wonderful. Your home is amazing.”
“I agree,” he relaxed and started to eat.
“So how long has it been since you've visited your father?”
He swallowed and looked at me sideways. “Does sneaking in to steal his war plans count?”
“No,” I pushed at his shoulder. “Is it really so bad between you?”
“Well, we're on opposing sides of a war right now,” he sighed. “I think I'm an embarrassment to him but I also think he secretly agrees with me. He's a leader but after Sabine died, he started letting his people lead him. They want the power and so he goes along with their plans.”
“That's sad, baby.” I frowned when he smiled at me. “What?”
“I just like hearing you call me baby,” he grinned wider.
“Well, if that's all it takes to make you smile,” I held up my coffee in salute. “Thanks for breakfast, Baby Thunder.”
“You're welcome, darling witch,” he kissed the syrup from my lips.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Miss V,” Jackson exclaimed as I walked up to the table. “Where you been, shug?” He drew out the endearment with a hint of New Orleans so the shortened “sugar” came out sounding like shuuug.
“Fighting gods,” I laughed and hugged him. “Oh and one werewolf.”
“You're never satisfied with the normal are you?” Jackson's boyfriend, Tristan stood up to hug me too. “The rest of us just have demons to slay but you get gods. I wanna live in your world.”
“No you don't, trust me.” I loved teasing the boys with the truth because even though they assumed it was just fun fiction, there were times when they got a sharp look in their eyes and I knew they suspected.
“Gods or demons,” Jackson sent me a penetrating look, “we've missed you. You should spare some time for us mere mortals.”
“Hot stuff, you ain't a mere anything,” I settled down into my seat and picked up my menu. I'd been putting my guys off for as long as I could and honestly, I really needed some Jax and Tryst time. So I'd snuck out of bed this morning to meet them. It was actually evening in Asgard. Thor and I had gone back to bed after breakfast, completely exhausted from the evening's activities, and I'd waken up just as the sun was setting.
“This is going to be my second breakfast in eight hours,” I laughed as I looked over Cinnamon's selection. I don't know why I bothered, I knew the menu by heart.
“Oh noonsies,” Tristan clapped his hands, his bright burgundy hair slipping into his eyes.
“No, no, second breakfast, then noonsies,” I corrected.
“I know,” he rolled his gorgeous blue eyes, as if the thought of me knowing more about The Lord of the Rings than him was ridiculous. Which of course it was. “I meant we could do noonsies after this.”
“Ah, excuse me. How could I ever doubt you?”
“So Miss Vervain,” Jackson interjected before the conversation became pure LOTR. “What have you really been up to?”
“Oh, you know, painting, witchcraft, and having hot sex with my new boyfriend!” I did a little squeal and Tristan joined in. Jackson just smiled and reached for my hand.
“Oh no,” I pulled away, “none of that. I don't want to know how horribly it's going to end.” Jackson was a clairvoyant and it was a constant battle to keep him from seeing too much. I probably should just give in and tell them already, if anyone would believe me about Atlanteans becoming gods it would be those two.
“Why do you assume it will end badly,” he moved his coffee aside to try and get a better angle at my hand. “Or that it will end at all? This may be the one. Could you pass me the cream, porfa-please?”
“He isn't the one,” my bright mood dampened a bit when I thought about the future Thor and I would never have. It didn't matter what he thought, I knew there was no hope for us. Human-god relationships had a notorious reputation for ending badly.
“Hah!” When I passed the cream, Jackson grabbed my hand. “Oh,” his eyes went distant as he stared at a point somewhere beyond my left shoulder. “He's magnificent. What is he, Scandinavian?”
“You could say that,” I gulped and tried to pull back but the guy had a kung-fu grip.
“Vervain, this man's in love with you already,” he whispered. “He's appointed himself your guardian. He's scared to death of you getting hurt. How very gallant, very old world.”
“Very old world,” I nodded as inwardly, I groaned. Please don't see anymore, please don't see anymore.
“Or very paranoid,” Tristan frowned as he watched my face.
“He's got a right to be afraid,” Jackson's hand clenched on mine. “Vervain, what are you into?”
“Nothing!” I tried to jerk my hand back again.
“There's so much blood,” Jackson's voice took on the monotone sound reserved for his predictions. “The Queen of Love brings only pain. Take her pain, take everything she is, and you change pain to pleasure, pleasure to love, love to heal the blackest hearts and make them yours.”
Jackson blinked and refocused on my face. Tristan and I were staring at him like he'd just announced his preference for Payless shoes over Gucci. I was terrified, Jackson was never wrong and coupled with Yemanja's warning, it was pretty much carved in stone. Pain was coming my way, pain and blood, evidently.
“Well that was really helpful,” Tristan twisted his lips into a grimace, “And by that I mean you were completely useless. More trouble than honey on a pig's ass.”
“What I say?” Jackson's brows lifted. Sometimes he'd instantly forget what he prophesied. I breathed a sigh of relief. My secret was still safe.
“Well you started out great,” Tristan narrowed disapproving eyes on him. “Then you started blabbering about blood and pain, something about the Queen of Love, whatever that's supposed to mean.”
“It's fine, Tristan,” I started to reassure Jackson as well but the waitress came up to take our orders.
When she finally left, the dark mood had dispersed and I just wanted to let sleeping hellhounds lie. We left Jackson's strange prediction alone and focused instead on the happy news of the long awaited end of my abstinence. They teased me with merciless intensity and fished for every bit of information on Thor they could get.
It was a surprisingly relaxing morning after that. I scarfed down my carrot-cake pancakes, drank way too much coffee, and basked in the general wonderfulness of my friends. Every female eye in the place was fastened on me with envy. Why is it that gay men are usually hotter than straight
ones? I have one word for you: hygiene. Well that and great genes. Jackson had modeled at one time and had kept himself in top shape. He was not only gorgeous but was one of those gay men you didn't realize was gay until two hours into a conversation when he moved his hand a certain way or sent you a sassy look but by then it's too late, you're hooked.
Tristan, on the other hand, had just a touch of flamboyance. It was enough for you to realize you weren't going to get any play in this lifetime but reserved enough to compliment Jackson instead of embarrass him. He was Versace to Jackson's Armani. They were a great pair and loads of fun. I hadn't realized how much I missed them until it was time to leave. We said goodbye amidst hugs and kisses, after they extracted a promise from me to introduce them to Thor at the soonest.
I crossed the parking lot Cinnamon’s shared with all the other cute restaurants and shops in Kailua, making my way to my car in a happy food haze. Buildings boxed in the lot on all four sides, two high-rise office buildings guarding one entrance and looking grotesquely out of place next to the quaint two-stories around them. In the alleys between the smaller buildings, trees grew amid thick plant life, gaily adding their appeal to the country cottage façade and further alienating the massive cement monstrosities.
The alleys were clean and bright, nothing like you’d expect an alley to be, and short on shadows to hide in. They weren't scary. They were the domain of stroller-wielding yuppies, not monsters. So I was startled enough to jump when a low growl came from the bushes. I looked over to find the biggest dog I’d ever seen, creep out into the sun. It was the size of a pony. What the hell did they feed that thing? Or should I say, what in Hell did they feed that thing? ‘Cause I was pretty sure that’s where the beast was born… hatched… conjured… whatever.
No, wait, it wasn't a dog but a wolf. A shiny black wolf with honey-colored eyes. I flung down my arms and released my blades. Bless Yemanja for warning me and making me paranoid enough to wear them to lunch. The beast stalked toward me like my gloves didn't make a lick of difference. If I hadn’t been so damned scared, I could have appreciated the beauty of him but as it was, the animal simply looked formidable. Okay, that’s an understatement. It looked terrifying, monstrous… and hungry.
