Heaven Sent (Loki/Asgard Fanfiction - Aislinn's Story)

Chapter Forty-Five

"Steve?"

"Mmm?"

"It's dark out. Maybe we should think about actually getting up for a while."

The sheet rustled and she found herself gazing up at him as he said, "What's the point? I kind of like it here better."

"Well, I do, too, but we can't possibly do it again. You've got to be empty by now."

He chuckled, then bent to brush her lips with his. "I think I passed empty about two hours ago, honey. But, I have to admit, I am a little hungry."

It was her turn to laugh, which didn't take a whole lot of effort, seeing as how nothing could dim her spirits. Where not twenty-four hours ago, her entire world seemed to have crashed down about her ears, now her heart soared higher than eagles. Happy didn't even come close to describing how she felt about being there, in Steve's arms, in his bed, again. Everything was as it should be again and she was pretty sure she could fly like her Uncle Thor if she really wanted to.

"Me, too," she confessed, easing her arms about his midsection to trace her fingernails along his back. He shivered, his skin rising into gåsehud just as it always did when she did this.

"So, let's go forage. Besides, I'm curious to see if my legs will hold me up."

"You're curious? At least yours haven't been too far away from each other."

He kissed her. "They weren't each time."

Warmth spread through her at that even as she smiled. "That is true."

"Are you blushing, Ash? You feel a little warmer than usual."

"I might be."

"Why? That was hot. Especially when you looked over your shoulder at me..." His voice grew husky. "You're lucky it wasn't over right then and there."

"Steve!"

"What?" He dipped to kiss her again. "I'm only human, honey. And that look, at that moment, was beyond hot."

With that, he shifted off her and slid to the edge of the bed. As he rose, she bit back a sigh. No man in all nine realms ever looked as good as her man did right then and there. She was a lucky woman, to be the one Steve Molinaro chose to love.

He bent to retrieve his black boxer briefs and fished her boy shorts off the floor as well. "Aha, here they are." He tossed them her way. "Think fast."

She caught them easily. His dark gray Nike hoodie still lay at the foot of the bed, draped over the footboard, and she snagged it. It was soft and warm and smelled like Steve and when she emerged, he said, "I like how you look in my clothes, Ash. And I like how, when I go to wear it tomorrow--or whenever--it smells like you."

"And what do I smell like to you?"

He caught her by the hand to draw her to her feet. "You smell like winter. Cold and frosty, and with a hint of some kind of flowers."

"Really?"

"Really. And I like it." He tugged her into his arms. "I'll wear it to work and probably get hit in the head with a volleyball because I'm thinking about you instead of paying attention to what my kids are doing."

She grinned. "Maybe you shouldn't wear it, then."

"I'll take my chances."

"Brave man. Those volleyballs hurt."

"I've got a hard head."

"Don't I know it?" She winked.

"Wiseass." He gave her a squeeze and then stepped back. "Food?"