Naughty in Norway

by Edwards, Christine

  I’m just about to turn away when I see him.

  He’s standing next to Bern and he’s watching me with blue eyes that resemble a frozen lake at dusk.

  Oh my God. My thoughts go into complete free-fall as my spine locks in place.

  I’ve never seen eyes so stunning yet so impossibly cold in all my life. Even from across a smoke-filled room I can tell that they are such a luminous arctic blue that they appear to have their own light source streaming from behind them.

  So very beautiful. Beyond words …

  My pulse quickens in excitement. Curiosity gets the better of me and I match his unwavering stare while taking in the rest of his features. He’d be utterly beautiful if he didn’t appear violently menacing. His lips are full and deep pink but turn downward into a natural frown, lending a cruel sensuality to his face. He has magnificent corn-silk yellow hair liberally streaked with a deeper caramel color. It’s pulled back into a low, thick ponytail at the base of his neck and I can’t help but think of how gorgeous it would be if he were to set it free to fall in luscious waves around his wide shoulders.

  His features are severe and exactly what you’d expect to find on a Nordic man—a perfect, deliberate nose and a sharp jaw covered in over a week’s worth of whiskers. It’s hard to judge from my seated position, but I would assume that he’s at least six foot six or taller because this stunning male towers over most everyone in the room.

  I reluctantly break my gaze as Lisetta gushes, “I know, Vail! Bern is so fine, right? Is he still looking this way?”

  “Yes, he’s still ogling you like a wolf and he’s everything you said and more. That body … I mean, come on, right? Maybe you can get him on that stripper pole with you tonight. I can picture it now.” I’m unable to suppress a soft giggle.

  She looks beyond thrilled with my comment and adds, “I hope he comes over here. I don’t want Mikkel forcing anything between us, you know? Bern should want to talk to me himself, don’t you think?”

  “You need to chillax, Lisetta. From the hungry look on his face you won’t be speaking with any other guy tonight except Bern.”

  She shoots me a beaming grin as Mikkel returns and steps in close behind us.

  “Come on, ladies, grab your drinks and you can leave your coats here. I’m going to give you the VIP tour.”

  Carrying our cocktails, we follow him to the large lounge area, where a heated game of Wii Motocross is in full swing, complete with shouting and drunken laughter from the ten or so boisterous participants. Mikkel points ahead. “Through that hall back there are the restrooms, should you ladies need them.”

  We cross over toward the band as Mikkel stops to shout, “And this is Death Squad. They always put on an outrageous show.”

  They’re wailing away, playing what I think might be a Black Sabbath cover. I can’t be certain because thankfully I’m quite rusty on my death metal. From what I’ve heard, some Norwegians are way into hardcore music.

  I lean up to him and ask against his ear, “Do they play anything other than, oh what do you call it here, black metal?”

  His dark brows snap together as he says, “You do realize that you’re standing in a biker bar, right?”

  I grin at him.

  “Then your answer is fuck no, sweetheart,” he says. “If they tried to play even one chord of that soft shit they’d be wearing their fucking instruments around their necks and walking their asses home. They know it, too, and would rather be beaten with a bat than disgrace themselves or the music that way.”

  I lean back in surprise. “Oh.”

  He holds my gaze for a long moment and then murmurs, “Yeah, oh. Come on, there are a few people I’d like you ladies to meet.”

  His eyes flick to Lisetta’s and as I glance her way I can tell that she’s amped up, hoping that he means Bern.

  I follow them through the crowd as we make our way to the back corner of the clubhouse. We wind around two huge, carved wood pool tables topped in red felt. It’s far darker back here and the long shadows lend a dangerous, almost gritty feel. I begin to feel a bit nervous again as we come to a stop directly in front of Bern and his two huge biker pals.

  Act calm. Don’t let this stunning modern day Viking intimidate you, Vail.

  In a deep voice, Mikkel makes the introductions. “Bern, Alreck, Ragnar, this is my cousin Lisetta who you’ve probably seen at our garage, and her American friend Vail who doesn’t speak much Norsk ... yet.” He smiles down kindly at me.

  “I need to get back to the bar now. You two are in good hands with these guys.”

  I’m not sure about good, but big, bad and sexy certainly come to mind.

  I’m too nervous to look directly up into Alreck’s eyes so I turn to the dark-haired guy on Mr. Luscious’ right and say, “Ragnar, nice to meet you.” He offers a lip quirk and a chin lift. I peek at Lisetta and watch the magic begin to happen between her and Bern. He’s bending his impressive frame down slightly to hear her and she’s speaking up into his ear with a sensual smile on her pink bow lips.

  Oh, here we go, somebody may be getting way lucky tonight. The heat rolling off of these two hotties is off the charts!

  With nowhere left to look, I cautiously look up through my eyelashes at Alreck. His massive arms are at my eye level and are folded across his leather-clad chest. His black jacket sports an embroidered, rectangular red badge over his heart that reads Falstad.

  Maybe that’s his last name?

  My eyes meander farther up, noting his thick, tanned neck. As I take him in I see that he’s peering directly down into my eyes with merely a foot of space separating us. An uncontrolled bolt of lust shoots straight through my body as we lock gazes. I almost step back in awe at how beautiful those eyes are up close. The color is an icy, pale blue near the pupil that fans out to a dark, dense midnight toward the rim. They resemble an animal’s with their wild beauty. The fact that his perfect eyebrows are a medium brown color really magnifies their intensity.

  He exhibits no emotion as he watches me carefully stare up at him. His expression is completely stoic with smooth control. He seems keenly observant and I would bet that he’s intelligent. Weighted seconds tick by and he makes no attempt to speak to me yet neither of us moves or diverts our stares. What on earth could he be thinking?

  Cold, I think to myself. There’s something really wrong here, or maybe he just doesn’t speak English.

  I don’t want to be the one to put myself out there and make pleasantries first. He’s far too intimidating for that and my Norwegian is on par with a kindergartener’s, so I slowly break away from his stare. I lean in close to Lisetta, touch her elbow and quietly say, “I’m going to visit the ladies’ room and then get some air. You two have fun. I’m totally good.”

  She smiles, her eyes riveted on Bern. “Cool, Vail, see you soon,” she says before immediately resuming Flirt-Fest Twenty Thirteen with Bern once again.

  Without a backward glance I turn and head across the now heaving party. A tingle flutters up my neck and I can actually feel Alreck’s eyes on me. I’m relieved to finally be able to take a deep breath after that intense encounter.

  I decide to change course and grab another cocktail to help take the edge off. Mikkel dutifully entertains a group at the bar and everyone is laughing and chatting away in Norwegian.

  He yells out heartily in English, “Hey, here she comes! Have a shot of Aquavit with us, Vail.”

  “Bring it, barman. I’m ready!”

  He laughs as he lines up shot glasses down the length of the dark granite bar. Lisetta wasn’t kidding; these Norwegian’s know how to party.

  “It may be too strong for you, girl. Do you think you can handle it?” he asks.

  With a cocky arched brow I retort, “Seriously, big guy? I’m from the land of Jack Daniels, Wild Turkey and Moonshine, so I’m pretty sure I can handle your cute yellow liquor.”

  “Whoa!” The group of men and women shout and laugh at my jest as he pours a round for everyone. He ha
nds me a glass. “This has been around longer than you Americans have been in your country, darling, so good luck.”

  With a hand held high he loudly proclaims, “Skål!”

  Everyone including myself toasts back to him, “Skål!” I down the shot in one gulp and nearly choke from the intensity of the burning. It’s very cold and has a slight aftertaste of caraway, anise and lemon.

  Damn. Aquavit packs a punch and floods my system like a downpour.

  “That has to be eighty proof!” I choke out as tears well in my eyes.

  Mikkel finds this hilarious and roars with laughter. “Ah, you’ll get used to it, Vail. It helps us keep warm. Did you like it?”

  How can he not be affected by the strength of that? He didn’t even make a face after he drank it. I’m mystified. “Let me catch my breath first and I’ll get back to you, big man. It certainly is unforgettable. I’ll give it that.” With a wave I turn to head off toward the ladies’ room.

  ***

  I wash my hands and toss the paper towel into the trash basket beneath the white pedestal sink before I look into the mirror to primp. The face reflected back at me looks delicately pretty with wide, almond-shaped midnight blue eyes framed by long, deep brown lashes. I’ve been blessed with my mother’s cheekbones, set high within a heart-shaped face. I’ve definitely lost some of my golden California tan since coming here, but I’ve still held onto a decent amount of glow. As a lifelong surfer I normally sport a year-round deep bronze hue and I can’t ever remember being this pale.

  I pull out my Kent boar bristle travel brush from my black leather Prada cross-body purse, another secondhand gem, and run through my long waterfall of dark mahogany-brown hair. I finish up with a dab of sheer pink lip gloss as Lisetta strolls in.

  Before I can greet her she begins, “Oh excellent, I was hoping to catch you in here. Are you having fun? I saw you doing an Aquavit shot. You’re so the woman! I thought that I wouldn’t be able to entice you into that until way later, after you were already drunk.” Her sweet, high-pitched laugh sounds like chimes.

  “Ah, yeah, that’s a pretty surreal concoction. What on earth is in that stuff? It’s beyond strong. They should rename it Dragon Fire, or something else to warn people away.”

  She bursts out in another ringing laugh. “I know, I’ve been seduced by it several times at house parties. Good stuff, but watch out, it’s over fifty percent alcohol and will sneak up on you if you’re not careful. Now, to the important business at hand, lady. Bern seems very interested and wants to hang out with me tonight. He’s fascinating and we seem to really connect. Are you cool if we stay here awhile longer? Pleeeaaase, Vail? I’ll owe you.”

  “Yeah, no problem at all. Everyone has been very friendly to me so far.” I hesitate on the next part, sweeping a long length of hair over my shoulder and taking in a breath. “Well, with the exception of the hot, scary guy.”

  She pins me with an uneasy look and glances back at the door, as if to be certain that no one is about to enter. She leans in closer to grab both of my shoulders. “Listen to me, Vail. Mikkel is as sharp as a tack and doesn’t miss anything. He sees the way Alreck has been staring at you since we arrived. Have fun tonight, but you need to stay way clear of him, do you understand?”

  “Why? How much worse could he be than every other guy in this bar?”

  “Don’t repeat any of this but Mikkel told me that Alreck just got out of prison.”

  I cringe.

  She nods warily and says, “That’s right, you should be afraid. I don’t know anything else about him, except Mikkel said for me to let you know that he’s basically antisocial and has a temper on him. Not a guy for you to get involved with, my sweet.”

  “Is he dangerous?”

  Her brows knit together in sympathy. “I would assume so, and don’t let his stunning looks fool you because inside could be something else entirely. Just watch out, okay? Jesus, Vail, he stares at you as if he wants to devour you. And I have to say that his stare is very intimidating. That is a man who wouldn’t take no for an answer if he ever got you alone.”

  I shiver at the thought as a dreamy vision enters my mind: Alreck sitting atop his leather-clad motorcycle, gloriously naked. He’s clutching me tightly about my hips, legs twined around his strong back while he commands my lithe, nude body to ride him exactly how he likes, hard and rough. My black Brazilian bikini panties instantly flood with dampness at the erotic image. I reluctantly clear my heated vision as Lisetta takes my hand and leads me from the bathroom, her voice full of sincere concern.

  “Just hang at the bar and I’ll make plans to see Bern again after tonight. Maybe another hour here, then I’ll owe you some dance time downtown at a hip club, girlie. How does that sound?”

  “Yeah, that’ll work,” I say, distracted, as we both exit and head our separate ways inside the loud, shadowy club.

  Prison? I really need to get some air!

  I pick up my wool coat from the bar seat, slide it on and weave back through the bodies toward the entrance. I need a few minutes alone. As I pass through the dance floor I can’t help myself and turn my neck to chance a glance toward the far corner. Alreck is watching me like a predator. A strong shiver goes straight through me again, although at this point I can’t tell if it’s from excitement or fear. I quickly turn and head out the front door into the bitter cold night.

  The snow is pummeling down in sideways-falling sheets, so I decide to descend the porch steps to take shelter under the striped awning coming off the side of the building.

  Perfect.

  I step under the cover and lean back against the wall to collect myself. The two stiff drinks have relaxed me and the fresh air feels awesome compared to that smoke trap. California is an über health-conscious state and the percentage of smokers is far lower than it is here. In Norway it’s more of a social pastime. Fine with me, but still, a girl needs to breathe.

  I see a flicker of light off to my right and jump a bit as I’m greeted by a deep, rumbling, “Hello.”

  I squint into the shadows and vaguely make out the person standing beside me under the long awning. “Oh, hey, Ragnar. I didn’t realize that you were out here.”

  He’s about twenty feet away but his big form is unmistakable. “Yeah, I’m just having a smoke and I’m about to phone my old lady to see what’s taking her so long to get here. You women.” His accent is so thick that I struggle to make out the words.

  I laugh as he takes a drag of what smells like a joint—burnt wet rope and earth—when he asks, “Would you like some?”

  “That’s nice of you to offer but no, thank you. I’m content just to chill here for a few. I was getting a little overheated inside.”

  He nods and hits a button on his cell before immediately launching into a long conversation in Norwegian. Even though I’ve been in Norway for several months now, I only catch about every fourth word. Not that I’m trying to eavesdrop, but besides the faint hum of music from the club there is little else going on out here.

  I rest my head back against the wall and shut my eyes for a few moments. Visions of Alreck’s frosty eyes and strong body flood my head. I wonder what he did to get sent to jail. Why was I having such a primal reaction to this man? I’m normally so even keeled around guys. This is unusual … and intriguing.

  An odd cracking sound erupts from off to my right, a sharp noise that mimics the air compressor gun my grandfather used to use in his workshop. The sound is immediately followed by a pained grunt. My eyes flare open and I immediately see Ragnar leaning against the wall at an odd angle, clutching his left shoulder. His phone, lying at his feet, is glowing like it’s still connected to the call. It’s hard to see his features clearly in the shadows but he is groaning and swearing profusely in Norwegian.

  Just as I shake off the confusion and open my mouth to ask him if everything is okay, I see people moving swiftly down the wooded hill in front of us. Two deep male voices are coming closer and speaking in a harsh, guttural language. I�
��m no linguist, but I can tell it isn’t Norwegian. Russian, maybe?

  I’m terrified and know that I should run to get help, but before I can process what’s happening the men come into full view from the woods. Their dark pants and boots are stark against the white blanket of snow as they approach Ragnar. Self-preservation kicks in as I shrink back against the wall, desperate to disappear into the shadows. One of them levels a black gun with a long barrel directly at Ragnar’s head.

  Noooooooo!

  I watch in horror as he desperately holds his hand up and pleads with them. “Nei. Nei, vær så snill.” No, no, please don’t. They yell something I don’t understand and fire on him as I throw my hands up to cover my face and mouth, overwhelmed with terror and trying desperately not to cry out.

  After a few seconds I peek through my fingers and see that the two frightening men are now staring at me in surprise. My heart is about to explode out of my chest as adrenaline floods my system in a rush. I whirl around and scramble like a terrified animal around the corner and back up the steps. A single shot whizzes by my right shoulder and the noise makes my ears ring as I make it to the unlocked front door.

  Throwing it open, I stagger sideways into the building and nearly fall over in the process. I’m screaming as loud as my lungs will allow.

  The entire place stops on a dime, including the band. The world moves in slow motion like freeze frames slowly flickering across a screen. This can’t be real.

  Lisetta races to my side and I clutch at her as if I will drown if she doesn’t save me. “It’s Ragnar! Call an ambulance!” I shout, my voice hysterical. “Those men … They’ve shot him. Oh God, they’re still out there! I think they might be Russian. He could still be alive. Someone help him. Oh God!”

  I can barely stand because I’m shaking so violently against her and she has trouble keeping her balance because of it. Mikkel and the rest of the bikers race by us like sprinters. Lisetta holds me close to her and feels all around my body, searching for wounds. “Vail, are you hurt? Did they hurt you? Sweetheart, talk to me,” she pleads, panic lacing her voice.