Stockholm Diaries, Caroline

by Rebecca Hunter

  His eyes widen a little, and he took a while to respond.

  “If that’s what you want, I’m more than willing to accommodate you,” he said slowly.

  “I’m not sure if that’s what I want,” she said. “I didn’t know any of this was an option until tonight.”

  He closed his eyes at her words and took a deep breath.

  “I should let you sleep,” he finally said.

  But she could feel his powerful urgency, and it awoke that same want in her own body.

  “There are things I like better than sleep,” she whispered.

  In a moment, Caroline found herself on her back with Niklas’s body, hard and ready, on top of her own. He took both her hands and lifted them over her head, holding them easily in one of his. A flash of the scene at the park, with him holding her hands together, pressing her against his body, rushed through her. He paused, checking for signs of doubt, but doubt was the last thing on Caroline’s mind. Then he began. She cried out as he entered her with long, rough thrusts that took her to the edge almost immediately. How could her body react so intensely to his? He seemed just as lost as she was.

  Both dreamy and sluggish, he pulled her in close, and she drifted in and out, listening to the sound of his slow, steady breath in her ear.

  She must have fallen into a deep sleep because the next time she opened her eyes, she found him sitting on the edge of the bed, looking back at her. She thought she would have awoken with his movement, but somehow he had gotten up without her noticing. Now his hand smoothed her hair from her face and traced it down over her shoulder.

  “I was supposed to be home hours ago. About nine hours ago, in fact,” he whispered.

  She looked at the clock on her nightstand. 6:00 am. The night was already over.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Curfew. I’m supposed to be in bed by 9:00 pm, and I don’t think this is what my coach had in mind,” he said, his lips curving into a smile.

  Caroline propped herself up on her elbows. Was he leaving, just like that?

  “How many times have you used that line before?” She said it with a smile, but she could hear the edge in her voice.

  “That wasn’t very fair,” he said softly.

  He was right. But at the mention of hockey, she suddenly felt the imbalance of the situation. He had ignored her in the hall, came when he wanted and left when he was ready. And what was she supposed to do? Just wait to see if he decided to come back? There were so many reasons why she didn’t want to be in this position. It reeked of more than one relationship in college that had left her feeling used, and those relationships didn’t include sex. With those guys she hadn’t felt anything near what she felt right now for Niklas.

  “Then how does this work?” she asked, trying to soften her voice.

  Niklas lay back down close to her and let his hand rest on her stomach.

  “I don’t know how this works,” he said. He slid his hand up so that he held her cheek, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. “What would you like? You haven’t told me anything about that.”

  That wasn’t the answer Caroline had expected. She opened her mouth but then closed it again. She had no idea what she wanted. What could she ask for? This apartment was hers for the month, and part of that month was already gone. Soon she would leave everything in Stockholm behind, including him. But at this moment, she wanted to bury herself in his touch and feel the length of his body on hers. Would the electric attraction between them run its course by the end of her time in Stockholm, or would it change into something much harder to break away from? Even if he gave her the freedom to choose the course of the next few weeks—and that itself was a selfish assumption—she didn’t know what to ask for.

  “I don’t know what I want,” she finally said. “I’m not here forever.”

  The anger in her voice was gone now. She ran her hand through his hair, down his neck and over the slope of his shoulder. Niklas closed his eyes, and she felt each of his muscles respond to her touch.

  When he opened his eyes again, they were dark and heavy with desire. He leaned forward, and his kiss was long and slow.

  “I can help you decide…” he whispered.

  He had meant it as a joke, but there was an undercurrent of truth to his statement. There was nothing tentative about his advance now, and the kisses that followed were more direct than his words. I know what you want, they seemed to tell her, though she wasn’t altogether sure if these were her own hopes speaking.

  She was surprised at how quickly he moved, despite his size. His muscles came alive as he reached over to her. Before she knew it, she was on her back again, and he was on top of her. His hand gently brushed the hair out of her face and then found her breast. His touch sent a wave of pleasure through her that hadn’t lessened, even after the night together. If anything, the feeling had grown stronger.

  And he was ready for her as well; that much was clear. He was hard against her, and his breath was harsh and uneven. He moved his hand over the curves of her body, leaving a trail of heat in its path.

  “God, how can I still want you so badly right now?” he growled. Her answer was a gasp, yes, yes. She wanted him just as badly.

  He lifted her hips and slowly entered her, and Caroline heard herself moan in pleasure. She met his eyes and beyond all the passion and lust, she saw something new there: happiness.

  “I CAN’T SEE you until the next match is over, until I’ve had a day to recover,” he said, and he smiled apologetically. His jeans were on, but his chest was still bare and hot under her hands. “We should win this next one. It’s against Switzerland.”

  Caroline nodded, trying to ignore the powerful urge to press her body against his again. His voice was distant now when he talked about hockey, and she could feel the same uncertainty bubble up in her again. But then he smoothed back the mess of her hair and looked down into her eyes.

  “But right now, I don’t care. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I don’t care about the game. I know I will again when I walk into practice today, but right now—” He stopped speaking and shook his head. “I have to go.”

  She watched as he slipped his t-shirt back on and grabbed his camera bag. Then she followed him to the door. His hands slid over her shoulders and down her arms, finding their way underneath the t-shirt she had slipped on.

  “I’m sorry I have to go,” he mumbled.

  His hands were so warm against her skin. He found her lips and kissed them, softly at first and then with an intensity that threatened to reopen the sharp desire that had kept her up all night. She broke it off.

  “You’d better go, while I’m still standing,” she said. She smiled, letting her hand rest on his arm once more before he disappeared out her door.

  Caroline sank into the chair next to the entrance. The warmth of his touch and the pressure of his hands were still on her skin. She closed her eyes, letting the remains of the night fill her before the intensity faded. She ached in places she didn’t know she could ache. But the longer she sat there, the more exhaustion weighed down inside her, and with it came its usual companions: doubt and pessimism.

  How did she end up like this again, nodding in agreement to someone else’s plan, a plan that she really didn’t like at all? Just because she couldn’t make up her mind about what she really wanted. Caroline meant to leave that behind when she left Brad, only to find herself right back where she started. Though it was true that he had asked her what she had wanted, what would he have said if she asked him to stay? But she already knew the answer. Is this what it would be like to be with Niklas: occasional nights of intense pleasure, followed by long days alone? She couldn’t deny that being with Niklas was powerful. She didn’t know that so much sex in one night was even possible, let alone the kinds of volatile emotions the experience had been laced with. But if right now was a glimpse into what the next few weeks with him would be like, she wasn’t sure she wanted any pa
rt of it.

  Caroline’s stomach gave a loud growl, and she opened her eyes. Niklas had ordered food earlier in the evening, but she had been too distracted to eat much. And now she was starving. Caroline walked down the hall to the kitchen, but when she turned the corner, she stopped. What she saw made all thoughts of hunger disappear. Her camera bag was still sitting on the table, and she had given Niklas’s camera back. Before she had taken back her memory card. With the photos of Niklas on it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Caroline was sure her alarm rang immediately after she lay down, though the clock suggested otherwise. And the few hours of sleep she had snuck in that morning seemed to have made her more drowsy, not less. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock again. No, she wasn’t mistaken; it was 11:00 am. Ludvig would pick her up in thirty minutes. Sighing, she rolled out of bed and headed for the shower.

  She had just slipped on a dress and was drying her hair with her towel when she heard a knock on the front door. Caroline glanced at the clock. 11:15 am. What was he doing here so early?

  “Just a minute,” she called, quickly running a brush through the tangle of dark waves that fell down her back. She headed for the door.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting—”

  She stopped mid-sentence when she looked up. It was Niklas, standing once again outside her door and looking even more tired than she felt. And once again, he was holding a camera bag in his hand. The grim line of his mouth made her swallow a couple times before she spoke.

  “The pictures of you,” she said softly.

  “What did you do with them?” His voice had a tight calm to it that made her feel worse. But why should she feel bad? Photographing his game was her job. Did he want her to apologize for catching him on camera, just like the rest of the photographers that lined the rink did? Personal photos were one thing, but photos of a game that he was paid to play, that people pay to see?

  “I did the same thing that all the other photographers did with the photos they were paid to take,” she said, her own voice taking on a tone much calmer than she felt. “I sent some of them to the news desk.”

  She was too annoyed to say that she had kept most of the photos of Niklas for herself. She wasn’t ready to tell him that she had kept them not because of their worth on the news market but because instinct told her they were the part of him that he tried so hard to keep from her.

  Instead, she said, “This is my career that I’m trying to build. And I already told you I didn’t know you would be there. It was a job opportunity, and I took it. I also realize some of the photos aren’t that flattering, but you were doing your job, and I was doing mine. Or is mine not as important?”

  Caroline could hear that her voice was not quite as even now. And when he answered, Niklas also sounded considerably less controlled.

  “That’s not what I’m saying at all,” he said, his teeth clenched. “I’m saying you have a conflict of interest. Is our relationship personal or is it professional? Because I can’t have it both ways.”

  “You’re going to—”

  Caroline’s words were cut off by the sound of her intercom.

  “It’s Ludvig.”

  She buzzed him in and then looked back at Niklas. His blue eyes were icy.

  “Should I leave before your date gets here?”

  “That was low, Niklas, ” she said, closing her eyes. “There’s no date. We’re covering another game.”

  Caroline took a deep breath. They only had a minute before Ludvig would be at the door. She decided to just tell him the truth. “Niklas, I kept those pictures of you because they’re of you, not because I was planning to sell them, okay? Because of the way you lent me your camera and kissed me in the hall. Not to publish, no other reason. ”

  Caroline watched his jaw soften as he took in her words. She reached out and ran her hand down the thick muscles of his forearm until she found the top of his hand. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t pull away, either.

  “You can’t—I don’t want you to go to the Switzerland game,” he whispered.

  Caroline looked up at him, but before she could answer, Ludvig’s knock came from the door. She let go of Niklas and opened the door.

  “Hello, Caroline,” said Ludvig and handed her a small pot of orchids. “A housewarming gift.”

  “Th-thanks,” she said, turning red. “They’re lovely.”

  Ludvig moved a little closer. “I thought you’d like something to make your apartment—”

  Ludvig took a step forward, but his voice stopped. His mouth hung half way open, midway through his next word. Clearly, he had forgotten whatever he was going to say. Instead, he was looking up at Niklas, who had come into sight as he entered through the doorway.

  Niklas’s face was blank now, an inscrutable mask. It was not unlike the look she had seen on him at the press conference, but there was no trace of friendliness this time. And there was something about the way he was sizing up Ludvig that made Ludvig squirm.

  Caroline set down her new plant.

  “Don’t worry. I'll leave you two alone,” said Niklas with an edge of sarcasm Caroline decided to ignore.

  “Niklas, this is Ludvig. Ludvig, Niklas—”

  “—Almquist, Detroit Red Wing,” Ludvig finished.

  His eyes were wide in the sort of child-like admiration that Caroline imagined would grate on Niklas. After all that condescending talk about hockey players, Ludvig was clearly star-struck. She would have laughed if the mood was a little less tense.

  Niklas raised his eyebrows and muttered, “former Red Wing.”

  He pushed past Ludvig and walked out the door.

  Caroline closed her eyes and let out her breath. When she opened them again, Ludvig was staring at her. He shook his head.

  “You shouldn’t have let him into your apartment,” said Ludvig.

  This time Caroline did laugh aloud.

  “It looked like you were happy to see him here just a few minutes ago,” she said.

  Ludvig looked angry now.

  “Not with you. Not while you’re alone,” he said.

  Caroline looked at the man standing in front of her. With his lanky frame and carefully styled hair, she couldn’t imagine him trying to defend himself physically. If Niklas was a threat to Caroline, he was as much of one to Ludvig, or just about anyone else she knew, for that matter.

  It was useless to explain to Ludvig that Niklas had, in fact, spent the entire night in her apartment, and the tone was hardly threatening. Instead, she had found the kind of pleasure in one night with Niklas that had eluded her in all the years she had been with Brad. Everything about Niklas was unexpected and overwhelming. Late into the night, it was as if he had reached inside and found a connection that wouldn’t let go. But none of this was a part of the world Ludvig existed in—and, she reminded herself, the world that Niklas was a part of as well.

  Ludvig was still staring at her, waiting, she guessed, for some sort of explanation of her relationship with Niklas. She wasn’t going to give it to him.

  “Let me get my things,” she said, and she walked back into the kitchen to grab her camera bag.

  LUDVIG’S CAR PULLED in at the bottom of a tower in the middle of an enormous grassy park, mostly deserted. From a distance, through the clumps of trees, the building looked communist-era stark and bunker-like, but when they walked in, the inside was surprisingly modern. They took the elevator to the restaurant near the top of the building. As she walked out into the room lined with long panes of glass, Caroline stopped. The whole city stretched out in front of them. Mazes of roads, buildings, trees and waterways wove in and out of each other, spreading out in greens, blues and grays as far as she could see. Clouds hung low and dark, only letting through patches of sunlight, shifting and reforming in rays onto the ground.

  “Amazing,” she whispered to herself as the hostess led them to a table up against the windows. Out in front of them, across grass, tr
ees, roofs and boats, Old Town rose out of the water.

  “I thought you’d like it,” said Ludvig. “Not as many tourists make it out this far, so it’s not too hard to get a table.”

  “Which way is my apartment?” she asked.

  He pointed across the city in another direction. He leaned over the table, closer to her, to point out other landmarks.

  But all Caroline could think about was the warmth of Niklas’s large hands exploring her body the night before.

  At some point, she had awoken to a soft kiss on her shoulder. She had turned to move herself closer into his arms, only to find him fully aroused.

  “Please,” he had whispered in her ear. “I just want you so much.”

  He had entered her that way, wrapped in his arms, his body—

  The waitress stared down at her, ending that thought. After they ordered, Ludvig turned to her with a look of brimming excitement.

  “I have some news for you,” he said. “I got you onto our team to cover the European football championships. I told the editor that you spoke Spanish, and he agreed you’d be a good addition. You’re going to Spain with us. My boss will work out the ticket and the visa for you. We’re leaving next week to get ourselves in place early.”

  Caroline opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  “Isn’t that great?” he said. He stared at her now with a kind of impatient expectation and then added, “It’s a great opportunity for your career.”

  Caroline felt her head nod.

  “It’s an amazing opportunity,” she finally said. “It’s just a bit of a surprise.”

  Caroline saw a flash of irritation on his face, but a moment later it was gone.

  “But we talked about it at Filip and Veronica’s,” he said quickly. “And I had to pull some strings to get you in. Since you don’t have that much experience to your name.”

  He turned to look out the window, letting that last sentence linger between them. Caroline’s face reddened, part embarrassment and part anger.

  “And it pays well,” he added. “Well enough to fund at least a few more vacation stops.”