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Jane ripped her t-shirt over her head. Sweat rolled down her skin, tanned from the rays of the burning sun. Her pants came off next, leaving her in nothing but a bra and panties, yet she still rolled around the sheets like a fish out of water, flopping and gasping for breath.
This motel room had to be the crappiest she’d ever stayed in, and that was saying something. She once had the pleasure of spending the night in a room wallpapered entirely with roaches. It wasn’t until she’d turned the TV off and heard their clicking that she realized, and she still couldn’t be in a room painted anything darker than blue without wanting to scratch herself bloody.
“Loki!” she whined, turning once more on her stomach. “Loki, where are you?”
The air didn’t shift or spark with magic, so either he hadn’t heard her or he was ignoring her.
“Please! I need you!”
“Is that so?” He was perched on the nightstand, unfazed by the splintered wood poking his impossibly tough skin. “You could have just said that before, my Jane, and saved us both the trouble.”
Jane crawled into his lap and wrapped all four limbs around him. He was too warm and she moaned in agony. “Need to cool down.”
Loki growled in her ear. “When you sit like this, in so little clothing, I’m afraid cooling down is not the first thing that comes to mind.”
“Shut up,” she hissed, pulling his shirt open and hugging his bare chest.
“Is that supposed to dissuade me?”
“We can do it later,” she said, snuggling in. “First cool me off.”
She felt his heartbeat slow, the lack of surety coursing through him in ways he’d never reveal to anyone else. Loki, Jane had learned, was not as much of a liar as people thought. Of course, deception was his favorite game and he’d stretch the truth from one side of the universe to the other, but an edge of deeper meaning in his games had always been there. Most people didn’t see it. Either he hid it too well, or they didn’t care to look.
Jane had cared. She didn’t know when or how it happened, but one day, she looked at Loki and saw not an arrogant prick of a would-be anti-hero, but a man with infinite potential just waiting to be discovered.
Also his body. Good lord above, that body…
“Please,” she pouted with doe eyes. “Just for a few minutes.”
Loki swallowed. “I would only do this for you, you realize.”
“Good,” Jane murmured.
It started at his heart, the wonderful icy cold spreading through his torso, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Jane’s eyes fluttered, catching the shift from beige to blue. Patterns rose under her cheek. She lazily traced the swirling lines on his stomach. He was tense under her fingers, but she didn’t stop. He didn’t want her to, whether he said so or not.
“You’re lucky,” he said, his arms snaking around her. “If I hadn’t found a way to taper this form’s abilities, my touch would freeze you alive.”
“Better than burning alive,” Jane sighed as the cool seeped into her hot skin. “I love you this way.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“I love you always.”
“I know.”
As she drifted off, Loki carried her to the bed and settled with her in his lap. His magic buzzed, a blanket around his natural skin protecting her from this form’s defenses. Thinking of his other self so clinically had grown easier over time. Though he never liked looking at his reflection with ruby red eyes, the lack of fear in Jane’s every time she saw him like this lessened the pain. Someday, he might learn to accept it.
He waited until she was fast asleep to kiss the top of her head. “I love you, too.”