Very Much Alive

'Um. Okay.'

He frowned. “What's up?'

'It's just, this guy I dated said he could cook, too.'

'So?” What if she has a boyfriend? He tried to ignore the shaft of jealousy as the thought occurred to him, but couldn't quite manage it. He could feel his teeth grinding. He would soon be an ex boyfriend if he and Kir had anything to say about it.

'So he set dinner down on the table.'

'And?'

'And his cat tried to bury it.'

Logan blinked, the tip of the pen arrested on the paper. “The cat what?'

'His cat hopped up onto the table, neat as you please, and tried to bury the food.'

Logan tried to stifle the laugh, but knew he sounded strangled. “Was the cat right?'

'Hell, yes.” He could hear the creak of her office chair as she leaned back. “A buzzard probably would have passed it by. The biscuits alone were prime building material.'

Logan started to laugh.

'For some reason, he never called me back after that. Might have had something to do with me asking if he could make some more, since my mom really wanted to build this stone water feature out in her backyard.'

Logan leaned back in his own chair, grinning like a loon. “Let me guess, they matched her siding or something?'

'Something like that. I got the impression I'd insulted him.'

'Some guys have no sense of humor.'

'Tell me about it.'

Jordan bit back a moan as the last bite of tiramisu slipped between her lips. He's gorgeous and he cooks ? I'm in so much trouble. “You, sir, can make me a meal anytime.'

'I plan on it.” Logan was smiling at her over the rim of his coffee cup. She felt her face heat up at the intensity of that smile. He'd been flirting with her off and on throughout the entire meal, and damn if she wasn't responding to his teasing touches and lingering glances.

Kir, on the other hand, had watched the two of them with indulgent amusement and a hint of heat, like a lazy cat basking in the sun, waiting his turn to play with the little mouse toy. And that's kind of how she felt. She was the small prey to their mighty hunters. The sad part was it was working. Her panties hadn't been this damp since her brother Magnus pushed her, fully dressed, into a lake when she was twelve.

Time to get things back on track before I leap across the table and do something foolish with my stupidly raging libido.

'Any ideas on what we should do for the video?” She turned to Kir, hoping to avoid Logan's lazy smile for a few moments. “What can you do that Logan can't do, other than thunderstorms?” She leaned forward, putting her chin on top of her folded hands, and stared at Kiran intently, her mind starting to drift into what she thought of as “work mode'. “We need the video to prove to the others that it's really you and not some trick of Logan's.'

Logan sat back and watched them quietly, his fingers casually cradling his coffee cup. Kiran nodded

slowly. “One way would be to perform some kind of miracle.” He exchanged a quick look with Logan, who shrugged. “There are differences between the magic of the Jotun and the miracles performed by the gods.'

'What differences?'

'For instance, if it's associated with the spring season, I can influence it. Spring storms, flowering plants, green and growing things, are all under my influence.'

'Don't forget sex and fertility.'

Kir rolled his eyes, but not before she'd seen the quick heat come and go at the mention of sex. “Down, you horn-dog.” He turned back to Jordan. “So, okay, add fertility to the list.'

'Is there anything Logan can do that they'd point at and say, ‘That's Loki, not Baldur'? In other words, can Logan imitate you?'

Logan's expression sobered immediately, the two men exchanging a long look. “That's been part of the problem for years. As a Trickster God, I can imitate quite a bit of what Kir can do, but if you know what to look for you can tell it's not the real deal.'

Kir leaned forward and propped his chin on his hand with an irritated frown. “No matter what we do, Grimm can claim it was Loki and the others believe him. We need to come up with something that's indisputably Baldur.” Kir sat back again with a sigh. “The problem is, what can I do that Logan can't imitate?'

'Hopefully the video itself will fix some of that.'

Jordan looked at Logan. He was staring at her mouth. “Earth to Logan, come in, Logan.'

His gaze snapped up, his mouth curling into that devil's grin she was coming to know so well. “If they can see Baldur performing the miracles, they'll know it's really him. There are some things I can imitate, but there are one or two things I simply can't imitate. Those are the ones we'll use.'

She ignored him when his gaze went once more to her mouth. “How will they know it's you and not him?'

Kir looked ... guilty. “They'll know.'

She raised one brow in disbelief. “Just because they can see you?'

He nodded, looking uncomfortable.

'Are you going to share with the class?'

Kir ignored the question and began gathering the dishes.

Logan leaned forward, one finger stroking a line of fire down the back of her hand. “I'm more than willing to share.” He glanced at Kir, who was now standing behind her chair, one strong hand resting on the table beside her plate. They had her surrounded in their heat. “Are you?'

Jordan gulped. Good-bye dry panties, hello inner slut-puppy.

The satisfaction on Logan's face as he stood to help her out of her seat didn't help. Kir's hand at the small of her back, guiding her out of the room as Logan took over clearing the table was almost a relief.

Almost. Kir's hand stroked her back in small, gentle circles as he guided her into the living room. It felt so good, she almost melted at his feet.

Oh, yes. So much trouble.

Kir watched as Jordan checked out the computer, making some notes on the programs they had. She was muttering to herself, Adobe this and Movie Maker that. Logan was sprawled on the sofa, watching her with that lazy, hooded look that always sent heat straight to Kir's cock.

She bent over to examine the plugs and slots on the laptop. The fabric of her jeans stretched taut across her shapely ass, displaying it perfectly. Kir nearly groaned out loud.

She couldn't have picked a more perfect way to torture them if she'd tried.

He heard Logan move on the sofa and knew he'd had the same reaction to the sight of Jordan bent over.

He could picture one of them fucking her while the other watched, the two of them taking turns to make her scream. Better yet, one of them fucking her sweet, sweet pussy while the other reamed her tight ass, making her so tight she'd nearly squeeze their cocks off.

And none of the visuals currently running around in his head would get them any closer to their twin goals of winning their freedom and gaining their now ultimate prize: Jordan.

'So, what do you think?” He shifted in his seat as his erection throbbed against the zipper of his jeans.

Damn, he wanted her.

Logan stood and moved over to the side of Kir's chair, his gaze never leaving the small woman moving around the laptop on the dinette table.

'I can work with this, not a problem. We need to pick up a camcorder, though, one that works with YouTube.” She stood, hands on hips, her expression completely professional. The uncertain female they'd lazily seduced over dinner was gone, replaced by the confident, strong woman she'd first shown them in her office.

Kir wanted to take that woman and flip her onto her back, her legs over his shoulders as he ... Better not go there, or I'll have a permanent zipper mark on my cock.