“You’re my very own Erik the Blond,” Caroline said, her voice low and throaty. “All mine. Every delicious, scintillating, magnificent inch of you…just for tonight.” She slid her hands over his torso, exploring the unyielding muscle beneath her fingertips. “Just for this one, glorious night,” she whispered, vowing to imprint the moment on her mind forever.
Erik sat upright again, smiling down at her while his hips flexed over hers with an urgent fierceness that left her breathless. “Not just tonight,” he said, fondling her breasts. “I always be Erik the Blond for Caroline. Love make sex to Caroline many time.”
“God help me,” Caroline said through a husky chuckle, “if I could afford it I’d take you up on it. Every Saturday night, at least.” Something akin to a tornado whirled inside of her as he pinched her nipples and fucked her even harder with his remarkable cock. Whatever was coming had such power and intensity that it almost frightened her. Gasping, she clutched at his biceps, digging her fingers in hard.
“Relax. Be happy,” he managed through a series of grunts with a reassuring smile. “I take you visit Valhalla.” An instant later, Erik the Blond finished her off with one final wicked thrust of his cock.
Vibrations, raw and powerful, slammed through Caroline as her pussy milked his hot flesh. “Oh. My. God!” she screamed in wild, convulsing pleasure, loud and strong enough to bring Thursday galloping into the room and barking his head off. And then Erik roared as he came and joined Caroline in the triumphant bliss of Viking heaven.
Chapter Three
Nestled in a corner with a rawhide bone, Thursday was calm and quiet again. Caroline smiled at her canine protector and then at the man who had just turned her world upside down in the best possible way.
She figured she may as well become a nun after this because why bother having sex with any other man ever again? Once you’ve been fucked by prime, well-schooled Viking cock, there’s just no going back. No possible comparison. Yes, the memory of tonight’s scintillating sex would have to last her a lifetime.
“Thank you, Erik,” she said as he tugged her close and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “It was a beautiful, sexy fantasy. You’re worth every cent they pay you.” She rested her head on his chest, pretending that Erik had enjoyed their sex together even a tenth as much as Caroline had. She hadn’t expected him to stay long enough to snuggle. The extra time in her Viking’s arms made the entire experience faultless. She’d have to find out the name of the escort service and send them a letter praising Erik’s thoughtful, considerate performance.
“Thank you,” he said, kissing her forehead and then grasping her breast, squeezing it gently before he kissed the crinkling nipple. “Make Erik cock so happy. Now I must be play.” Feathering a kiss across Caroline’s lips, Erik got up and gathered his Viking outfit, slipping into it as Caroline watched in fascination.
So he was off to play with someone else now. She sighed as she eyed his cock, still sizeable in its semi-limp state. Her ex-husband had never looked like that even when he’d been erect. There’d been so little time that she didn’t even get a chance to taste Erik’s cock. Her mouth watered with the desire to sample his masculine flavor, to slide his shaft past her lips, her tongue. To savor the tang of his cum. Well, at least she’d had him for this brief, magical interlude. That skilled, sensuous mouth, the exquisitely satisfying cock, the cataclysmic orgasms… Erik was every orgasmic fantasy she’d ever had rolled into one perfect-fuck package—the only minor flaw being that he was a male prostitute.
She jumped when the telephone rang.
“You want who?” she said into the receiver. “Erik Tryggvason?” She looked at Erik who smiled and thumbed his chest. She held the phone out and he took it, speaking to the man on the other end…probably the dispatcher from his escort service saying Erik was running overtime. Her sigh was louder than she’d anticipated as she padded into her bedroom and threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
“Lock man come now,” Erik told her when she returned. She followed him into the living room.
“Who?” She cocked her head, trying to decipher what he was talking about now.
Erik shook his head in seeming frustration. “Locksmith,” he corrected as he opened the front door and motioned to the house next door—the one that had been for sale for the past few months. Caroline peeked around the hulk of male flesh, noting the for sale sign was gone. “Erik house.” He proudly slapped his hand against his chest.
A jiggle of panic zigzagged up Caroline’s spine.
“Your house?” He nodded and she broke out in goose bumps. “You’re my new neighbor? I have a Viking for a neighbor?” She must be hallucinating. Yes, the stress of Thursday defiling her chocolate cache, followed by sizzling hot, mind-boggling sex with Erik the Blond had simply been too much to bear. Maybe she’d fainted and was dreaming all of this and didn’t realize it. A quick pinch to her arm dissolved that theory.
Erik nodded. “Neighbor.”
“You mean you’re not a male prostitute? You’re not a paid escort?”
Erik frowned. “You be prostitute?”
“No! You are…aren’t you?”
“No.” He roared with laughter. “Funny joke. You make Erik laugh.”
Suddenly Caroline found it difficult to breathe. She heard a strangled sort of gack sound sputter from her lips.
“Be happy. We be neighbor now. Make much sex all the time.” He chucked her chin. “I be last Viking in play for childrens. Christmas play. Lock out. No key drive auto. Need go theater. Help Erik, please.”
That was the most he’d said at one time since the Viking first appeared on her doorstep.
Excruciating realization dawned with an icy chill. “The Christmas play at the community theater,” Caroline said, recalling the ad in the paper and the posted flyers. “The Last Viking. You came here because you’re locked out and need a lift to the theater?” Suddenly feeling crowded by his proximity, she took an involuntary step backward.
A bright grin spread across Erik’s features. “Yes. Need a lift.” He nodded. “Keys inside house. I sorry. Never so stupid to do this before.” Then he grabbed Caroline and kissed her. “But I so happy we sex together.”
“Happy? Hah! Well of course you’re happy, you imposter! After you pretend to be my Christmas Viking and drag me off for a cavalier roll in the hay. Of all the audacity!” She shoved him hard enough to elicit an ooph and catch Erik off balance so that he slipped off the icy front door stoop and fell backwards onto the frosty grass next to the walkway.
Caroline gasped as Erik’s head clunked against the ground and his Brunhilda helmet skidded across the frozen lawn while he lay spread-eagle. “Oh my God! Erik, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen. Are you all—” In her haste to rush to his side, she slipped on the same patch of ice he had and went sailing, landing on top of Erik with enough force to knock the wind out of them both.
Erik bellowed a groan. Not a sexy kind of groan, but more of a you-crushed-my-balls-and-I’m-fucking-dying kind of groan. And because of that, Caroline was relatively certain that the foreign chatter that followed meant something other than Don’t worry, Caroline, I’m all right.
As soon as she could move, Caroline rolled off of Erik and knelt next to him. “I am so sorry, Erik.” The only sign that he was alive was the pained grimace etched across his handsome features. “Should I call a doctor?”
Opening his eyes, Erik did his best to crack a smile. “No. I strong. Not cry, Caroline.” He reached up and wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying. “I okay. Have to be play now. Help Erik. Yes?”
“Yes, of course.” Once she got to her feet, she extended her hand and tugged Erik into a sitting position. He struggled not to show pain. The sour brine of humiliation and embarrassment spurting through her cells all but pickled her insides. Erik finally stood on his feet and gave Caroline a half-hearted thumbs-up sign.
She slipped into the house for
her keys. When she returned, Erik followed her to her car, doing his best to make baby steps resemble a manly stride. As the Viking folded his impressive bulk into the passenger seat of the small car, Caroline watched his muscles bunch and cord.
“You must be freezing,” she said, eying the pelts of wet fur covering just a portion of his gorgeous made-for-fucking body. “It has to be twenty-something outside.”
Erik gave a nonchalant shake of his head. “I am used to cold. I come from—”
“No, don’t tell me.” Caroline raised her hand. “Let me guess. You’re from Norway, right?”
“Yes!” He beamed a perfect white-toothed smile.
“Naturally.” Caroline sighed.
“How you know this?”
“It just fits.” She rolled her eyes.
“You be cold,” Erik said, pointing to her breasts and grinning.
Caroline looked down at the beading nipples poking through her T-shirt. In all the commotion she’d forgotten a coat.
“Keep your eyes on the road,” she said, although she was the one doing the driving. “Just forget that anything sexual happened between us because, trust me, Erik, it is never going to happen again. Got that?”
“Want Erik suck pretty teats, make warm again?”
Caroline socked him in the arm, determined to ignore the sudden crackle of desire. “In the first place, I’m not a cow. I don’t have teats. You mean tits.”
“Big tits,” Erik said, pinching a rigid nipple and squeezing her breast.
So fucking aroused she could barely drive, Caroline slapped his hand away. “In the second place, the word is breasts.” And, God, how she wanted his mouth on them again.
“You love Erik cock.”
Sucking in an audible gasp, Caroline nearly ran the car off the road. “What!?”
“Please, not feel shame. Erik love you posse too.”
“Pussy,” Caroline corrected and then thumped the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Jeez, what am I saying? I don’t want to talk about tits or cocks or pussies, Erik.”
“We make excellent sex.”
“Or sex! Oh, good grief. Look, Erik, I am not that kind of woman.”
“What kind?”
“The kind that…Erik, I don’t even know you. I thought you were a—”
He grasped Caroline’s right hand and pumped. “How you do? I Erik. You neighbor.” He grinned. “Now you know me.”
“Erik, you are positively incorrigible.”
He frowned and shook his head. “Not know this word. It mean handsome? Big cock? Sexy man?” He jiggled his eyebrows devilishly.
“Stop. Just stop right there. This conversation is finished.”
Sure, it was flattering to have someone who resembled a Norse god coming on to her. But Erik wasn’t flirting because he thought she was beautiful or nice or smart. It was because he’d found an easy lay. A lonely woman who’d dragged him in off the street and jumped his bones. The guy probably figured she was the neighborhood slut or a cheap hooker who just happened to live next door. And she couldn’t blame him one bit.
It wasn’t as if she was some perky-breasted eighteen-year old, and she certainly wasn’t a lithe little thing, either. She was thirty-eight and shopped for her clothes in the plus size section.
“Why Caroline angry Erik?” He rubbed her thigh, trailing his fingers up until they rested atop her well-fucked pussy. “I not make you excellent sex?”
Excellent? Shit. It was fucking stupendous. Breathtaking. Spectacular!
Caroline lifted his hand from her crotch and plopped it in his lap. After opening and closing her mouth a few times without uttering a word, she snapped it shut and looked straight ahead as she drove.
As Caroline pulled up to the community theater, Erik turned to her. “Thank you. You eat me. Yes?”
For about the tenth time that night, she gasped. “I will do no such thing! That does it, Erik. Get out of this car.” He didn’t move. He had the nerve to just sit there grinning at her. “How dare you suggest that I suck your—”
Erik gestured as if shoveling food into his mouth with a fork. “Supper,” he said. “You, me, eat. Food.”
“Oh,” Caroline said in the tiniest voice she’d ever heard herself utter. Could she possibly be any more of a moron?
Head thrown back, Erik roared with laughter. It was a beautiful sound and he was a beautiful man and, Lord help her, she did want to eat him!
“Are you asking me to have dinner with you?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Then we be no clothes and do excellent sex. Yes?”
“Get out of the car, Erik. Now.”
———
Clutching the charm around her neck, Caroline woke up smiling. Erik had starred in her dreams and she’d even experienced a spectacular, dream-induced orgasm while asleep. The only thing spoiling it was waking up in an empty bed when she’d much rather be cozying up to the arrogant Viking. That, of course, was impossible now. She could never face the man again. She’d have to put her house up for sale and move. Far away. Maybe all the way to Norway.
Christmas Eve morning was about as jolly as she’d expected. Wearing her grubbiest jeans and rattiest sweatshirt, Caroline had been scrubbing and scouring since she got up. As she cleaned Thursday’s rancid mess, cursing him every step of the way, the mutt was smart enough to steer clear.
Caroline absently fingered the charm nestled against her breast and, perplexed, shook her head. She’d removed the chain before slipping into the Mrs. Claus outfit last night and then put it on again before going to sleep. What had her baffled was that the charm was now back to the silver color she remembered from her childhood. There was no trace of the gleaming gold, and she was clueless as to why. Maybe it was due to some weird chemical reaction with her skin or cologne.
Still lost in thought when the doorbell rang, Caroline ignored it. She wasn’t in the mood for witty repartee with the sexy Viking next door. And then she heard a familiar voice…one she hadn’t heard for exactly twelve months.
Shit.
Caroline answered the door and almost burst out laughing at the irony of it all. The only thing worse than everything else that had already happened was standing on the other side of her threshold.
“Hello, Caroline.”
“Herbert, what in the hell are you doing here?” She glared at her louse of an ex-husband. “Lose your bouncy little teeny-bopper? Well, she’s not here, so goodbye.” She started to slam the door but he caught it.
“Now, Caroline, that’s no way to talk. Bunny’s right here.” He turned and beckoned towards the bushes. “Come on, it’s okay, honey. She won’t bite.”
“Don’t count on it,” Caroline mumbled as she anchored her arms across her chest.
A very pregnant girl waddled up the walk, sidling next to Herbert. Caroline made a conscious effort not to let her jaw drop. She had no idea the nearly adolescent home-wrecker was pregnant.
The girl raised her hand, wiggled her fingers and grinned. “Hi, Mrs. Conlon. I’m Bunny.” She traced the enormous bulge in her middle with her other hand as she spoke.
Mrs. Conlon. Caroline cringed at the words coming from the post-kindergartener who was technically young enough to be her daughter. “It’s Ms. McNulty,” she said. “I took back my maiden name after the divorce.” Herbert and Caroline exchanged polar glares.
“Where’s Ruff?” Herbert asked.
“Thursday,” Caroline corrected.
“What are you talking about? It’s Friday.”
“Thursday. I changed his name to Thursday.”
Herbert screwed his features. “Why in God’s name would you name Ruff after a day of the week?”
“Actually, he’s named for Thor, the Norse god of thunder.”
“Then why not just name him Thor?”
Caroline tsked. “Because you brought him home on a Thursday, the day of the week named after Thor. Thor’s day.”
“Caroline, that’s the most asinine, ridiculous thing I’ve ev
er heard.”
She looked at the watermelon in Bunny’s stomach and smiled. “Not as ridiculous as some things, Herbert.”
“Look, Caroline, I don’t have time for games. I’m here for Ruff.”
“You’re what?” That threw her. Sure, Thursday had violated her chocolate stash and ruined her carpet, but Caroline still loved him fiercely and wasn’t about to give him up to the jerk who couldn’t be bothered to visit the dog for the past twelve months.
Herbert fell into that all-too-familiar stance of exasperation he did so well. Thumbs looped in his pants pockets, weight resting on one leg and a dimpled smirk. She used to think that smirk was adorable. Now she wanted to rip it right off of his male-menopausal face.
“I’ve come for my dog. Where is he?”
“Gone. He ran away.” Thursday, the idiot, chose that moment to bark from somewhere in the depths of the house and Caroline rolled her eyes.
Scowling, Herbert pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Jesus. What the hell happened in here?” He scanned the room with an expression of disbelief and disgust.
“Oh, that.” Caroline shrugged. “Thursday had a little mishap.”
Bunny stuck her fresh, apple-cheeked face into the room, breathing in an audible exclamation. “Eeeeew, yuck!” She popped her gum and blew a bubble. “Gee, Herbie, I thought you said he was a good dog.”
“Herbert, you can’t just waltz in here and take Thursday away from me.”
“I most certainly can. According to the court, Ruff is mine, remember?”
Caroline's Christmas Viking Page 3
