Chapter 9

The following weeks seemed to fly by in a quickened blur, and I could have sworn that the glowing of my arc reactor was beginning to brighten every time I saw Loki, whether or not he was fully clothed. I found it disturbing how often I had to remind Loki to wear clothing whenever Pepper was around because she would suddenly turn into a teenage girl staring at her favorite celebrity in the time span of point-two seconds. Loki found it amusing and, more often than not, ignored what I said. I didn't bother spoiling his fun, though.

And, gods, those nights (and most afternoons) we spent together wrapped up in the sheets of the bed were fantastic. There were not enough words in the English language to convey how everything we did just felt. I mean, Gods in Heaven . . .

I shook my head quickly before I gave myself something painful and hard to get rid of and crossed my legs. Loki was pulling on a dark shirt when my monitor beeped from my pocket. I looked away from the reverse-strip-tease in front of me to open up a reminder that I was to attend that damn gala at the concert hall that same evening. Oh, lord.

Galas meant being social and leaving the house. They also meant that I wasn't allowed to grab a handful of stripper-ass in public without getting enough attention to make the Prince of Whales envious. Was I looking forward to it? Short answer: no. Did I have any choice? Only answer: no.

Loki was fixing his hair in the mirror when another thought occurred to me: that reporter, whatever the hell her name was, was going to be there. And so would Loki. She was damn good at getting her info from anyone she met, and if she were to run into Loki . . . Fuck. If that wasn't a recipe for disaster, I wasn't sure what was. Keeping them as far apart from each other as I could would be a hard task, and keeping him away from me would be an even harder one.

Shit.


Loki Laufeyson

Once again, I was forced into a three-piece suit and was wandering around a rather large party with a drink in my hand, searching through the sea of black tuxedoes and shiny dresses. It was almost the same as those small get-togethers Tony had arranged back in New York, only the crowd here was made up of many people I didn't even recognize. Back in New York, I could at least mingle with someone I had seen in the bar and then return to being a wallflower, but here I couldn't walk two steps without bumping into a stranger.

Earlier that day, I had relayed everything to Thor, letting him know that I would be home earlier and even had a nice chat with Jane one morning when she had answered the phone due to Thor's being in the shower. After confirming with her that my brother's sex life was well and he was satisfied, Thor had snatched the phone away from her a stuttering mess and was angry at me for prying. Jane had been giggling in the background and Thor made me confess to my own sex life (mostly white lies of not getting any action) before he finally let me hang up.

As soon as I was off the phone, Tony took me again, in the shower, with the water scalding hot. Damn, that had been an intense morning.

I took a small sip of the brandy served at the bar and found a young woman to chat with. She seemed very interested in learning anything she could about other people, including their darkest, most-protected secrets, and she also enjoyed sharing everything she could about the people she knew. Or, should I say, the people she thought she knew. After she explained a few rumors to me about Anthony, I decided I had heard enough. She disagreed, and I ended up walking away from her midsentence.

I was rude, yes, but at least I managed to get away from her nasally crowing before my head imploded. She was probably going to start rumors about "the rude man" behind my back to everyone she knew. At least I had kept my name to myself.

The crowd had been growing since the clock had struck nine, and I had long lost Tony in the sea of heads. Having a boyfriend as short as he was was beginning to become a pain when it came to crowds. I ran into a few of the guys who used to work at the club with me (they had found their cash machines and were milking them for all they were worth), and a few girls were interested in taking me home, but I had to kindly decline them. That, and they were quite crude when it came to showing their interest.

I swirled the ice in my cup and took another sip of the smoky liquid, feeling the hot burn trail down my throat and tasting the flavor left behind from its passing. I was ready to return to the sweat-soaked sheets and free myself from this blasted suit, but Tony insisted on staying until midnight. The time? Just past ten. This evening was going to drag by slowly.

I fidgeted again and plucked at the small strands of string hanging from the ends of my scarf, tying them and twisting them and untying them between my fingers. The scarf would probably come apart from my nervous fingering but I was sure it would hold for the duration of the party. If it came apart, I would fix it. If it was unfixable, I would buy a new one.

I spotted Tony with a small group of men, all wearing business suits and women clinging onto their arms with smiles. All smiles were directed at Tony, and if they weren't the smiles of people trying to get into his pockets . . .

He had women. Two girls were throwing their breasts out and pressing them against Tony's side; one of the trollops was wearing a red gown that fell just below her knees and barely even hid her breasts. She pressed herself freshly against him, and I was personally horrified to see him placing his hand on her ass and smiling at her. Call me clingy, but . . .

I did my best to calmly storm over to Tony's side and cleared my throat. He looked up at me from his conversation and grinned. "Ah, Loki! There you are; I was just talking about you. C'mere." He shrugged off the harlot with her breasts hanging out and put an arm around my shoulders as I stood awkwardly in the circle.

The girl who had been tossed aside stomped her heel into the back of my leg. I grunted and turned towards her with murder in my eyes. She just stuck her tongue out at me like a child and strutted away. Tony and the others laughed it off with "sensitive girl" and "she was probably just trying to get into your pants anyway." I didn't find it as amusing as everyone else seemed to.

"Damn, you're pretty tall," one of the men said with a smirk, sizing me up. I looked down at him and glared. He chuckled and winked. Disgusting. I knew his kind down to a T. I wasn't even going to acknowledge his remark.

"So, Tony, I heard you're quite the ladies' man!" a second man said with a wink. "Looking out for any bed-warmers for tonight or are you going to go at it by yourself?" The other guys oooed and gave each other looks. I smirked and gave Tony a proud look from the corner of my eye. He was surely going to let them know that he was already with someone, even if he was too shy to name me specifically.

"I think I already found my bed mate right here; isn't that right, gorgeous?"

I turned to reply but my words were instantly halted by Tony pulling the girl still at his right tightly to his side, smirking as she giggled and threw her arms around him. And kissed him. I was mentally horrified as he kissed her back. Was that jealousy I was feeling? Envy and anger mixed together into a lethal combination of emotions. My hold on my drink tightened.

I'm sorry.

What the actual fuck?

"Should I find myself a hotel so you and your . . . friend can have some privacy tonight?" I asked curtly, forcing a tight smile onto my face. Tony jumped at hearing me speak and their lips parted with an audible smack. He grinned, lips slightly pink from the girl's lipstick. She was grinning and biting her lip.

"Oh, um, no, that's okay. We won't bother you. Can you be quiet, hon, or are you a screamer?"

The cracking noise any of you might have heard was either my heart or my temper; which one it was, I wasn't entirely sure. I couldn't see anything else around me but the color red. My face heated up and I could feel myself sweating beneath the multiple layers of clothing. At least this one wasn't overly attached. That had to be a plus, right?

I wasn't fooling myself.

I smoothed my hair back with a wet palm and turned towards the others, all of whom must have felt my raging aura because they were taking a step back. I smiled the best I could, but I was definitely sure I looked like I was about to bite their heads off. I wouldn't have been surprised if one of them was to back away slowly with his hands held up in defense.

"Well, I must be going," I announced, bowing my head and pulling my fist behind my back. "Tony had hired a little extra entertainment for the party, and I offered to greet them personally." I turned to Tony and my smile completely disappeared. "Goodbye."

And then I walked.

And I wished I couldn't feel a thing.


Anthony Stark

Loki walked away. He turned his back to me, fury flowing off of him like a woman's gown as he stormed across the floor and moved around the people in the crowd and out of sight. I couldn't find him anywhere and I ignored the whining and tie-pulling beside me. I moved my hand from the girl's ass as the men around me began to laugh and make crude jokes about Loki's sexual preference.

Little did they know that the majority of their words were actually true.

The girl beside me got fed up of being ignored after I attempted to paint the back of her throat with my tongue and made her own exist via stage right. The others laughed at me and I let them. After what I had done, I deserved every nasty, disgusting, button-mashing word they sent my way. I also knew that I would be getting an earful from Loki later, if he even decided to come back to my home and not fly back to New York earlier.

I ran a hand through the dark brown curls of the mop I called my hair and jumped back into the conversation with, "She wasn't that good of a kisser anyways. Probably would have sucked in bed, too."

"Bet she was a virgin." The other men cackled and wiped at tears forming in the corners of their eyes.

"Who was that Loki kid anyways?" The oldest man pulled a cigarette from his pocket and his arm-leech lifted a small flame to light the end for it. He took a deep drag on it before tilting his head back and blowing smoke circles into the air. He exhaled and waved a hand to disperse them. "You mentioned him a few times earlier."

"Oh, him?" I asked with a nonchalant shrug. "I just met him at one of my other galas back in New York. We talked, got to know each other. He's a really cool guy, but his temper is a little . . . short." I coughed as the others nodded in understanding.

"What's his profession? Translator? Secretary? Does he work for you or someone else?" The questions from my guests came at me rapid-fire. I took a swallow of scotch and held up a hand for them to be quiet and give me time to actually answer them.

"He didn't exactly specify what his profession was when we met," I lied, working the cogs in my brain to roll and creak and force out I lie I could wing without sputtering and stammering and giving away the truth. Telling them I was involved with a gay stripper would not do well for my image. "I think he said something along the lines of entertainment, like a talent scout or a producer."

That was surely something I could work with. I nodded to myself as the music playing overhead changed to something loud and upbeat with a strong bass that made the reactor in my chest vibrate every other second.

"Oh, really? Think you could convince him to speak with my daughter, then?" One of the younger men with black hair cut short pulled at his tie and leaned in close so that I would be able to hear him over the sudden blaring song. "She's trying to become an actress – pity, I know – but she won't give it a rest until someone looks at her and lets her audition. Just get the boy to tell her she doesn't have the talent or something along those lines. I'm getting tired of hearing her whine about not being the next Beyoncè."

The music's tune kicked up a bit, and it was noticeable enough to catch the attention of everyone in the room. People were hooting and hollering and whistling to show their approval of the song change. At least, that was what I was aware of until the man whom had inquired details about Loki's "job" gasped and his mouth gaped open, a look of complete and utter shock coming over his features. Wondering what he was making a big deal about, I looked over towards the center of the room.

That was when I saw that his reaction was more appropriate than mine.

Of all the damn people to do the damnedest things, Loki was standing on one of the serving tables, which had been completely cleared of food so that the only things that remained were the tablecloth and the ice sculpture someone had commissioned. I couldn't remember what it was supposed to look like (Iron Man, I think) because it had melted.

Loki was currently barefoot, having thrown his shoes and socks to the wind and was currently shimmying his shoulders out of his jacket, the one I had given him to wear for tonight. He draped it over the shoulders of the melting ice statue and raised his arms over his head, moving his hips to the beat of the damn song. A small crowd began to gather at the table, and the others who were "more refined" stood where they were and refused to move.

Then he began to unbutton his shirt, and a slim young man moved closer to the table, grinning up at Loki with obvious intent in his eyes. Loki seemed to pick up on it because once his shirt was unbuttoned, hanging open to show off his midsection, he slipped his scarf off, wrapped it around the young man's neck, and pulled him in. Their lips crashed together sloppily, and the crowd around them roared and cheered. From where I was standing, I could see Loki's tongue darting out to touch the man's lips before they proceeded to kiss as if they had been lovers for years.

What was it that I could feel burning the back of my throat? Why was it I was becoming sick to my stomach? I didn't bother questioning it. Red swirled in my vision before I stormed over and separated the two myself, watching with disgust as Loki slipped his tongue back between his wet lips and smiled at me. It wasn't a cute smile, either. That smile told me he knew just what the hell he was doing and that my reaction to the situation was exactly what he had been looking for.

There went any possibility of me keeping this asshole away from the cameras as people's phones were whipped out and flashes from cameras went off. I ignored the cameras and grabbed onto the back of his collar, pulled him uneasily from the table. He stumbled but kept his footing. I dragged him towards the exit and out of the concert hall while spectators whispered and videos were uploaded to the internet. I would probably find the kiss on You Tube later.

The paparazzi outside were having mind-blowing orgasms to find me walking towards them with a half-dressed man without his shoes. Cameras flashed, and I responded by pulling out J.A.R.V.I.S.'s wireless and destroying their cameras from the inside out. Their film would melt or their memory cards would shatter. Either way, the pictures taken would never leak from the press. They could have to Google it or some shit to find it.

The valet noticed me and hurried to pull the car around. I kept a tight grip on the back of Loki's neck as the valet jumped from the driver's seat and opened the passenger side door. I threw Loki inside and didn't bother shutting the door for him. The drive back to my home was silent. Anger and defeat and smugness mixed in the air and the tension was almost tangible enough to grab.

Once we were in the living room of the house, everything went to hell.


Loki Laufeyson

The conversation started off with Tony throwing his small handheld across his living room, pouring himself a generous amount of scotch, and taking a large swallow before sighing. Then, he said, "Care to explain what that whole little show was back there, with you taking your clothes off in public?"

I laughed to myself and slid my shirt off, throwing it over the back of the couch. "You and I met, what, almost two weeks ago in a strip club, and you're still surprised that I'm willing to take off my clothes for a little attention? You don't seem to know me as well as you claim." I smirked from where I was standing and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for a reply from him.

"It seems I don't," he admitted, throwing his hands up dramatically into the air. His drink sloshed over the rim of his glass and over his hands, but he didn't seem to actually care. He continued rambling. "It seems that everything I knew about you was entirely wrong."

"The same could be said for my side," I added, shifting my weight from one side to the other. "If I do recall, you said some rather promising things in bed last night. And the night before. And, hell, since the first day we arrived. But, of course, that I believed you was just naïveté."

"It was, actually." Tony set his drink down and moved away from the bar, standing a few feet away from me with a sour smile on his face. "I remember clearly telling you that I wasn't a nice person. Remember that? That was right before we went to the park and you told me a nice sob story about how your brother was better-liked and got more action in high school. Clearly, I can see why."

"Because I don't throw my dick at the first sign of someone showing interest in me?" I countered, watching with satisfaction as his smile twitched downward. It was my turn to smile. "I can see why Ms. Potts feels sorry for me now. Because she knew you better than anyone else. She was hurt, and she knew I would be, too. Women like her are smarter than we give credit for."

"Complimenting the opposite sex to make me jealous?"

"Not even in your sick, twisted dreams."

Tony laughed and covered his eyes, one hand on his hip. He sighed and then looked up at me; I wasn't sure if he was actually going insane or if he found my retort funny. Maybe he found this entire situation hysterical, and I was being played like a marionette with his fingers controlling my every movement, invisible strings pulling and tugging at my arms and legs. I wouldn't have been surprised.

"You are one hell of a manipulative bastard," he said, looking out the window. Tony turned his gaze back to me and held his hands out as he talked. "You know, when I read all those scathing, detailed articles on you, I was a little hesitant to bed you. Really, I was. I was worried you would have gotten me into the same situations as those other men, but I can see that was a fluke. You're not even worth a dime of that money. Those men must have been out of their damn minds . . ."

I opened my mouth to speak when I stopped. My words suddenly became an inaudible squeak as his words managed to process entirely in my mind. Articles. Money. Fuck.

". . . You think that's funny? That all of that was a joke?" I asked weakly, unable to form any sort of hateful retaliation to throw back at him. "You honestly think the only reason I showed any interest in you was for money? That I kept up this whole charade just to get into your pockets?"

"The first time you met me was in a strip club where you took your clothes off for it."

"Have I ever asked you for a fucking cent!?" I shook my head and put it in my hands, fighting the urge to break down. "This is what I get for giving someone the benefit of the doubt. Some lawless, selfish, egotistical bastard tells me a few sweet words and the next thing I know, my heart's being torn out of my chest and I am mocked." I shook my head, defeated.

"You're mocked? Tell me how going in front of the press tomorrow to explain what the hell happened is going to affect you, because I would gladly trade places with you in an instant. I would love to see you go up there in front of everyone and explain what you were doing and why you thought it would be cute," Tony replied.

"I would gladly appear in front of the press to let them know that you met me at a gay club, that you and I dated and shared a few intimate moments together. Yes, that would get the heads turning, wouldn't it?" I shot back. "Maybe I should inform your secretary and let her know I would like to explain everything myself. Rather than let you up there with a few note cards. I could probably remember the story better than you."

Tony glared at me, his smile fading fast and his fists clenched at his sides. He was silent as his eyes looked over me, seeming as though he was trying to find something to prod at or a button to angrily abuse. I smiled sourly to myself and looked down to my feet.

"Get out," Tony said flatly. "I'm done playing this game, Loki."

"The feeling is mutual." His brows came together at my words. "Goodbye, Mr. Stark. If we meet again, I do wish that we pretend this 'relationship' never happened."

"I hope we never meet again."

With those words to each other, we parted. I took my shirt up and fastened the buttons as I left. I didn't see Tony . . . Anthony's reaction to my exiting, but I did flinch from hearing the loud, echoing BLAM from behind me and the tinkle of shattered glass raining down to the floor. I didn't want to turn, as much as my heart begged me to. To turn around and run back to him would make everything worse.

I entered the elevator to go down to the first level, and looked down at my clothes, all tailored for my measurements so that I wouldn't have to wear my one suit everywhere. It had been a gift from Anthony just that morning, which he had presented me with a large, giddy smile.

Angrily, I reached down and tore off a round white button from the bottom of the row. I dropped it onto the floor and stormed out of his home and into the warm, salty air of Malibu's midnight. What I was going to do for a place to stay, I didn't know nor did I give a damn. I was just ready to rid myself of my foolish hope.