Doesn't Play Well With Tricksters

4 - Confronting Temptation

Author's note; This one includes a lot of graphic dialogue and a touch of violence at the end. You have been warned.

Two hours later, Rachael had to admit the God of Miscief was handy in a fight. He made so many copies of himself, using them to help defeat their enemies, that even she had trouble keeping up with which one was really him.

She rolled her eyes as a vivid replay of one of them sacrificing himself to save her from the blue blast of the strange guns flickered across her memory. She should have known it wasn't really him. She shouldn't have fallen for his games.

"Knock, knock." He called out from her doorway.

"Speak of the devil." She grumbled under her breath.

"Do you have a moment?" He asked, closing the door behind him before she could answer.

"What is it, Loki?"

"I noticed how at a loss you were when my double stepped between you and the enemy today. Do I dare presume it was because you thought I was dying?"

She rolled her eyes. "A tad more complicated than that, wasn't it?" She answered. "How would you feel if someone you barely knew just sacrificed themself to save you?"

"So you do care."

"About people who give up their lives for others? Yes. About people who pretend to do so? Not so much."

"Therein is the truth of the matter. My clones don't do anything I wouldn't do in the same place."

She scoffed, "Liar."

"Why would I lie? What purpose would it serve? "

"No idea, but you do it so well." She deposited herself in her chair and waved absently toward the door. "Do you mind? I have paperwork."

In an instant he was across the room and leaning in close enough that she could see the tiny flecks of sand and powdered rock smearing his face. She clenched her hands into fists to resist the urge to brush the battle dirt from his skin.

"And we have much to talk about."

"Like what, Loki?" She sighed, trying to sound bored.

"For starters, just how long were you going to let me believe this attraction between us was purely one sided?"

"My, you are even more conceited than I thought." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked him dead in the eye. "Being moved by the apparent sacrifice of another person doesn't mean you're attracted to them."

"Now who's the liar?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically and stood, closing a small part of the distance between them. "What, exactly, do you expect me to do here? Wrap my arms around you and beg you to take me while confessing my undying love?"

"For starters." He smirked.

"Fat chance."

"Would you rather I bend you over your desk and take my time teasing the confession out of you? I would be happy to oblige."

"I'm sure you would." She muttered dryly. "But I have no interest in stroking your ego today. The door's behind you."

He reached forward to move a strand of hair behind her ear. "Interesting choice of words," He smiled as he let his fingertips graze the line of her jaw. "Specially since I was the one offering a very thorough stroking."

"There will be no stroking of any kind in this office. Not today and not involving you."

"Pity," He answered, seizing her chin between his long, surprisingly gentle fingers. "I was so hoping I would get to see your body quivering beneath me. Reacting in ways your stubborn mind refuses to admit you want."

"Hold your breath." She answered, proud her voice sounded as annoyed as she'd intended while his words, and that damned silver tongue of his, drew mental images for her that had her growing aroused despite her determination to show him no reaction whatsoever.

"Tell me, darling-"

"I'm not your darling," she interrupted.

"Tell me, how long will you torture yourself? How long will it be before you admit how wet I make you with just my words?"

She smirked back, "How long will you continue to chase something you'll never have? How long before you admit someone may actually be able to say no, and mean it?"

His smirk wavered for the briefest of moments. "Do you mean it though? Or are you simply denying something you want so desperately you can taste it?"

"How can you believe you're so irresistible? Do you honestly think that just standing in your presence, hearing your voice, and being within arm's reach is so overwhelmingly tempting that I couldn't possibly be telling the truth? Os it so ludicrous to you that I'm just not interested?" She countered.

"Not at all. What strikes me as ludicrous is the amount of 'explaining away' you do. Especially for someone who claims she never entertained the idea." He let his eyes drift to her lips. "For example, any time I look at your lips, your mouth opens, as if there were an invitation waiting."

"It's called breathing. Mortals tend to do that."

"Does that explain how flushed your cheeks have become?"

"I'm part Irish. Being aggravated tends to show in all sorts of irritating ways. One, is the blush that pops up anytime I get pissed off."

"Maybe I should test that theory." He answered, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip. "If I were to kiss you, what would you do?"

"What would you do if I were to quickly introduce my knee to your groin?"

"Escort you to the infirmary, most likely. Being as I'm still in full Asgaurdian Armour, you'd likely do quite a bit of damage to your kneecap." He answered, as if it were a perfectly normal question. "Your turn."

She raised her eyebrows questioningly. "To...?"

"To answer my question. What would you do?"

"I thought I did, threat of bodily harm and all."

"I'll risk it." He whispered, quickly closing the distance between them, pressing his mouth to hers with a demand she almost answered.

Instead, she pressed a hand to his chest and pushed until he took the hint and stepped back.

Then nailed him with solid right hook that landed perfectly on his jaw, sending his face to the side with a snap.

He turned back towards her, a shocked look on his face. "You hit me."

"I warned you."