Wanted Man (Loki Fanfiction - Book #1)

Chapter Thirty-One

McKenna was still at the windows, this time sitting on the ledge, when the door opened again and her heart skipped a beat when Loki came into the room. He didn't look angry. He didn't look hurt. He looked concerned.

Still, she pulled the robe a little closer as he said, "May I come in?"

"Sure."

"Eir and Tyra are going to watch over Selig today and tonight. So you might have one full night of sleep."

That touched her, lifted her spirits a little, and she nodded. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me." He came up the two steps toward the windows. "Eir offered. I, of course, was too thick to think to ask."

She waited for him to close the space between them, but at the top of the second step, he paused and stood there, legs slightly spread, arms folded over his chest, his expression one of utter seriousness. Her heart beat a little louder, sending a hint of dizziness through her, and she swallowed hard to clear the rushing from her ears.

"I know you're going to tell me nothing is the matter," he said finally. "But, if it's something I've done, please, I wish you'd tell me."

She sighed softly, shaking her head as her gaze fell to her lap. Plucking at the smooth gray silk, she said, "It's not you, Loki. It's me."

"What is?"

"I—I..." she shook her head, still unable to look at him, "Forget it. It's stupid."

"Love, just tell me." He broke his stance to stand before her and reached out to take her hand in his. He gave a gentle tug, and pulled her up to stand before him.

"I feel like an idiot, Loki."

He smiled, catching her beneath the chin with his free hand to tilt her face up. "How stupid can it be?"

"It just is."

He bent and covered her lips with his. It was a gentle kiss, soft and loving, his mouth moving against hers in a tender caress that was like a first kiss, but without the awkwardness. Although, come to think of it, their first kiss was anything but awkward, despite the fact that it took place without warning in a shower. And led to something even more amazing.

She pulled away as her throat squeezed shut and Loki didn't question her, didn't protest, didn't demand an explanation. Instead, he pressed his forehead to hers, as was his habit, and his hands came up to the belt loosely tied at her waist, all the while, his gaze remained riveted on hers.

The silk slipped free and she caught his wrists to stop him. "Don't."

"Yes." He nodded, letting the belt open and catching the sides of her robe to pull them apart.

"Loki, please..."

"Please what, love?" he whispered, easing the silk over her shoulders.

"Don't."

But he didn't listen. The silk spilled from her to pool at her feet and he gently tugged on the lacing holding her tunic closed at the neck. The silk cord slid easily through the holes and as the neck opened, he hooked it with his thumbs and pushed.

She bit the inside of her cheek as it also spilled from her, heat swirling through her that wasn't at all comfortable or sensual, but the fiery discomfort of embarrassment.  She squeezed her eyes shut. "Loki, please don't look."

"Why not?" His finger came up to her chin again and he added, "Open your eyes, love, and look at me."

It took every bit of will she had to do as he demanded and when she did, her own eyes stung with tears. "Please just don't. I look—"