This Time Around (Sequel to All Over Again)

Chapter Thirty-Four

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The next morning, the sun poured in through the east-facing windows because Loki forgot to draw the drapes the night before. He groaned softly as he rolled straight into a brilliant beam and tried to pull the blankets up, but to no avail.

"Damn," he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with one hand as he sank deeper into the pillows. With a flick of his hand, the drapes fell into place, slicing the sunbeam in half, and he rolled onto his side, easing his arm about McKenna's waist. She sighed softly in her sleep, snuggling back against him.

He smiled down at her. Her hair spilled down over her shoulder, exposing a small, although incredibly enticing, patch of her nape. It reminded him of the first time he held her as she slept, back in Bay Head. It was the very same night he told her that their relationship could never go beyond the brotherly kiss he'd placed on her forehead, that he wasn't the slightest bit interested in her beyond what she could do for him in order to keep him alive until he could settle his score with the Other.

But that same night, as he sat on the love seat in their room in the B&B, he couldn't stop gazing over at her as she slept. Just like now, his eyes were drawn to that small spot on the back of her neck, until he could no longer resist her pull. He carefully crossed the room to slip into the bed beside her and cradled her against him.

Of course, back then, they hadn't yet even so much as kissed. Now, he knew every inch of her, knew exactly where her hot spots were, and he smiled now as he bent to press his lips against that bared bit of skin. She sighed in her sleep again, but didn't stir.

His wife.

His Midgardian.

Her body was warm against his. Warm and soft, and she fit so perfectly against him. It was difficult to believe he once thought he could push her away, could keep her at arm's length. Difficult to believe he actually ever wanted to do just that. But he did. When he first landed in her apartment, he wanted only to heal and then go face the Other. He cursed the fates that caused him to land in the apartment of a simple-minded Midgardian. If it wasn't for the fact that he was banged up and exhausted, between the run-in with the Hulk in Tony Stark's penthouse and being impaled by the Kursed's spear, he would have done whatever it took to get as far away from McKenna Carlin as possible. Midgardians were beneath him. He wanted nothing to do with them at all. They were weak, like the fools in Stuttgart, Germany, willing to kneel and be subjugated, just as he always believed they would.

But as he lay there on that brightly colored rag rug that mocked his pain, staring up at a stucco ceiling, a flutter of movement caught his eye. He shifted slightly and there she stood, dressed in a pair of thin cotton pants and a clingy tee shirt (and braless, if his eyes were to be believed.) She didn't cower before him, but instead her eyes widened and she cleared her throat to say, "Who are you and how the hell did you get in here?"

He tried to sit up, which was a mistake, but as he did, his eyes raked her from head to toe. She was pretty. Especially her eyes. They were the most beautiful shade of green he'd ever seen. But that wasn't all. He saw kindness in her eyes. There was a hint of fear, of course, since only a fool wouldn't have been afraid, but her eyes were kind. She was frightened, but willing to help him. Willing to show him that kindness, without asking for anything in return. Well, except that he promise not to kill anyone else.

Then that night at the Winchester, when he pulled her against him for the first time, he knew. He knew he was falling for her and falling hard. He couldn't help it and he couldn't stop it. Falling in love with her was the easiest thing he'd ever done and the one thing he'd never been more sure of, even if the thought did scare him to a certain degree. Surely she would never love him. How could she? He'd brought death and destruction to her realm.