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Sigyn never really liked going to these “girls’ night out” but she’d be lying if Frigg wasn’t intimidating when she wanted something. For all of her demure ways, the wife of the Allfather and Sigyn’s sister-in-law could be a bitch if she so wished.
The scenery changed each time but the things said were always the same. They commented about their lives on Midgard, complained about their husbands, and got so drunk that they rivaled the men in their intake.
Sif had picked the destination and Sigyn was surprised that it came up as a strip club when she plugged the address into Google. She feigned disinterest as they entered the establishment and followed the scantily clad waiter to a booth in a secluded corner.
“Quite the . . . interesting place you chose,” Idunn said once they were all seated. There were nine of them this time—Frigg, Freyja, Sif, Idunn, Eir, Nanna, Gerd, Skadi, and herself. As they ordered drinks and food, Sigyn resigned herself that the goddesses were going to get shitfaced and possibly sleep with a mortal or two.
Sigyn’s phone buzzed and she glanced down. It was a text from her dear husband. Hope you have a good time, it read. Don’t get too drunk and make sure Idunn stays away from the appletinis :b
I promise ;), she replied. And I don’t plan on drinking much. Strip clubs aren’t my scene anyways .
“Who’re you texting?” Gerd asked suddenly, craning her long neck to look at the screen. Sigyn locked the screen and set a dry look to Frey’s wife.
“It’s none of your business,” Sigyn said, hoping for some sort of distraction. One of the reasons she never liked these get-togethers were that the other goddesses were often dismissive of her relationship with Loki. It was an ancient argument but one that seemed to persist.
Perhaps it was because she was still madly in love with him.
The drinks and the appetizers came out which gave Sigyn an excuse to not respond to Gerd’s question. She took a sip of her brandy old fashioned and sighed as the dregs of the sugar cube passed her tongue. It was good but nothing really compared to the ones they made at the dive-in down the street from their apartment.
“What did you get?” Freyja asked, staring curiously at her drink.
“Brandy old fashioned,” she replied. “Loki introduced me to it.”
Frigg made a face that was a mix of disgust and surprise, a face that didn’t look appealing in the flashing lights of the dance floor. “When did you decide you liked brandy?”
Sigyn shrugged as she dipped a mozzarella stick into the marinara. “I was never a big fan of sweet alcohol to begin with.”
For a while, the topic on the table was alcohol as the Asynjur debated which alcohol was the best. As Sigyn ate the mozzarella sticks—and holy fuck they were good—she didn’t add much to the conversation. She liked to drink but some of the goddesses took it to an improbable extreme.
When their food came, Sigyn was glad for the reprieve in the conversation. They’d ignored her for the most part and she’d spent the time people watching. This was obviously a nice place, if the relatively clean floors and attire of the customers were anything to guess at. She couldn’t help but notice how most of the patrons were female and the male dancers danced in various costumes that highlighted the bulge between their legs.
“They’re hunky, aren’t they,” Skadi said, her ice blue eyes watching the dancers.
Sigyn nodded absentmindedly and continued to watch the dancers with a vague disinterest. They were certainly good looking but Loki kept coming to the forefront of her mind. He danced like wildfire and his reedy voice sent shivers down her spine.
Eventually the Asynjur wanted to watch the dancers and Sigyn followed them, stifling a deep sigh. The dancers were even more handsome up close and the others watched them with hungry eyes.
Sigyn’s phone buzzed and she glanced down at it. Another text from Loki. I hope you haven’t picked up a hunky man yet. I would be incredibly disappointed. :’(
She rolled her eyes and discreetly took a photo of the man currently undulating his hips in front of them. Not really my type but def. Freyja’s .
“Seriously, Sigyn?” She looked up to see all of her companions looking at her.
She shrugged. “What? I really don’t want to be here and Loki was the one to text me anyways.”
“How do you still love him after all these years?” Sif asked, flicking her golden hair over her shoulder. Even after thousands of years, she refused to cut it short so it practically cascaded past her hips.
“Maybe it’s because even though he has done some incredibly shitty things I’ve stuck with him and never broke the vow I made to him all those years ago.”
Freyja snorted. Her necklace flashed in the roving spotlight. “Ah yes, little miss fidelity. You’re the only one that could ever love someone like him.”
“And when was fidelity a bad thing? Is the concept of staying true to your husband such a horrible concept?” It was a low blow but their incessant quips about her relationship were pretty fucking old. Sigyn lifted her chin in defiance and without a word, she marched to the bathroom.
As she collected her thoughts and tempered the rage in her belly, she looked down at her phone and dialed a familiar phone number.
“Yes?” the voice on the other end asked. “What do you want?”
“I need a distraction, Loki,” she admitted. “I pissed off the Asynjur big time.”
His chuckle was dulcet. “Oh, only you would have the balls to call out some of the most dangerous goddesses ever to grace the nine realms.”
“Thank you. But seriously, I need a distraction.”
“You have asked and you shall receive.” And without a goodbye, Loki hung up. Sigyn smiled at her phone and exited the bathroom. Whatever Loki was planning, she was going to have a hell of a good time.
She returned to the table where Eir was getting a lapdance from a blond man with an impressive six pack that almost rivaled Thor’s. As she sat down, Frigg side-eyed her and pursed her lips in an all-too-familiar look of disappointment and distrust. It lasted a while until Sigyn turned towards her. “What’s on your mind, sister-in-law?”
Frigg sighed and lifted her wine glass to her lips. “You’re too much like your husband for your own good.”
Sigyn lifted her own drink and smiled over the rim. “And is that a bad thing?”
“No,” Frigga admitted after a pause.
“Well then, our conversation is over.”
A song started blaring out of the nearby speakers, cutting of any reply Frigga could muster. Sigyn hid her sudden smile behind a fist as she recognized it as one of Loki’s favorites. A club hit, full of dark sensuality and a rolling beat. She watched as a dancer, dark haired and lithe, walked to the catwalk nearest to the goddesses’ table. He looked nothing like his normal hybrid form but there was no mistaking that wink in her direction.
The man danced a bit, eliciting screams of excitement from the patrons. For as much as they shunned him, Sigyn new that everyone, even icy Skadi, had a fantasy of bedding the infamous god of chaos. Some had even done it in the distant past. But she had the sole rights over him and it gave her the power to stand up to the other godesses.
He moved to the nearby pole and arched his back, pointing his toes in a pose that was both feminine and masculine, a strange mix that Loki had perfected ages ago. Sigyn gasped with the others as he gripped the pole and lifted himself up so that he was upside-down. She had no idea when Loki had learned to pole dance but she would certainly ask him later.
A pair of amber eyes met hers and he winked, his smile promising an interesting night. Sigyn watched as after a few more tricks on the pole, he leapt off the stage and mingled around the tables, hips swaying to the beat. The patrons clawed at him, shoving dollar bills down his tight pants. He made his way over to the goddesses’ table and Sigyn could practically hear the others screaming internally to pick me, dark hunky man . Their faces of disappointment were beautiful as the man picked her.
As he began grinding on her, they started a quiet conversation.
“I didn’t know you could pole dance,” Sigyn said as he ground his hips in her lap.
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
Sigyn chuckled. “I knew it was you when that song started playing. You’re so predictable.”
Loki flipped around so that he faced her and braced one foot on the chair next to her head. “No, my dear. You can’t predict fire.” He thrusted his hips and Sigyn had the feeling that if looked at from the right angle, it looked like she was giving him oral. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the faces of her companions and most of them looked mutinous. If they didn’t realize who he was by now, it was no wonder why Loki got away with so much shit.
As he performed his lap dance, the desire kept building deep in her stomach and it took the majority of her willpower to moan as he grinded hard against her hips. He smirked down at her and stood up, making her growl at the loss of friction.
Out of some hidden pocket, Loki pulled out a room key with a keychain shaped as a cartoony penis. “You’re my lucky girl,” Loki said, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the seat. As he pulled her down a hallway, Sigyn glanced back at the assembled goddesses. In an act of pure spite, she stuck out her tongue at them and flipped the bird.
When Loki unlocked the room, they fell into it laughing. “You are a mastermind!” Sigyn cried as she collapsed into the bed, a hideous heart-shaped thing with unbelievably scratchy silk sheets.
Loki followed her in and he propped himself up on one shoulder beside her. He shook his head and the borrowed shape fell away, revealing Loki’s tousled red hair and satisfied smirk. “We have this room for tonight with all the benefits of a VIP. So tell me, my conniving Sigyn, what do you want?”
The thought was immediate. “I want you to fuck me so that the Asynjur can hear us and be jealous.” She smiled. “And some mozzarella sticks.”