This Christmas in Stockholm

by Betham, Michelle

  “Stay,” he whispers.

  “I don’t have a change of clothes.”

  “You don’t need clothes. They’ll just get in the way.”

  I smile, and he laughs, and I feel like I’m in the middle of some super-sexy dream. I can’t even think about going home, I don’t want this to end, not yet.

  “That works both ways, you know.”

  He grasps hold of my thighs, lifts me up and off him, and he stands up. He’s still erect, I can’t take my eyes off him, and I feel my belly contract at the memory of him inside me. Of his tongue, his fingers, that cock, inside me.

  I watch him walk over to the drinks tray on the sideboard; watch him pour us more brandies, and I get up off the couch. I go over to him, take the glass he holds out to me, and he pulls me against him, his naked skin warm against mine, and I’m conscious of the fact we both need a shower. We’re hot and sticky from the sex, but there’s something about that thought that makes me shiver again.

  I take a sip of brandy, my eyes never leaving his, they’re mesmerising. That colour blue – almost cobalt, it’s stunning. He doesn’t seem real, he’s too handsome, too sexy, too everything real men aren’t. Yet, he’s all of it.

  “Come on,” he whispers, taking the brandy from me and placing it on the table, his other hand sliding into mine as he leads me out of the main living area into one of the rooms down the small narrow hallway. His bedroom. We’re going to get that shower now. Together. And that thought once more allows a shiver to return, an almost physical reaction as I step into the cubicle.

  He closes the door, switches the shower on, warm water immediately cascading over us, washing the sex away. Wet skin touches wet skin, lips damp as they crash together. I need him again, I want him, again, and I reach down and take his still-hard cock in my hand. I run my fingers over it, letting them slip and slide as the water rains down on us, flicking my thumb over the tip, his gasps only serving to turn me on even more.

  He grabs hold of my hips, swings me around so I have my back to him, and I close my eyes as he cups my bottom; runs his fingers over it, slides a hand between my legs, he’s checking how wet I am. And I moan quietly as he slides his fingers over me; as he opens me up, I cry out as he slams into me, his thrusts hard at first, slowing down as we find a rhythm that works.

  He pulls me back against him, one hand on my stomach, the other helping me reach another crazy-beautiful climax, he’s inside me. He’s touching me. He’s a walking fantasy and I’m living it, for how long? I go home, the day after tomorrow. I go home…

  As he comes I cling onto his hand, I wait for my own endgame to arrive and when it does, I turn my head slightly, I find his mouth, and I kiss him. We’re locked together in every way possible.

  He wants me to stay.

  I don’t think I want to go anywhere…

  Seven

  I’m woken by the smell of fresh coffee and warm toast, and when I open my eyes I realise I’m alone, in his bed. He’s out in the kitchen, I can hear him moving about, hear him talking on the phone, and I stretch out and smile. My body aches after the hours of sex we had last night, but every niggle, every sore and tired muscle was worth it. I’ve never had sex like it – why is that…?

  “Happy Birthday!”

  My eyes spring open and I sit up, frowning slightly as I look at him, dressed only in jeans and a smile as he carries a tray piled high with toast, coffee, fruit and scrambled eggs.

  “How did you know it was my birthday?”

  “You mentioned it, last night. That you turn forty today.”

  My frown deepens, because I can’t remember if I did tell him that last night, but then, thanks to all that glorious sex, a lot of last night has faded into the background, bar the memories of his hard, naked body…

  “A very beautiful, very hot forty.”

  His voice drags me back from that daydream, and I smile at him. “I’m sure I look red hot right now, because the just-woken-up look always works, huh?”

  He sets the tray down on the bedside table and leans over to kiss me, and as he kisses me he pulls the sheet away and now, in the cold light of day, I’m suddenly aware of the fact I’m completely naked.

  “Right now, you look incredible,” he whispers, and I feel my insides melt, what am I here? Some love-struck teenager…? No, scrap that. There’s no love here, this is lust. Pure, horny lust, and I’m fine with that.

  “Such a smooth-talker.”

  “It’s always worked for me.”

  I laugh and playfully push him away, but the last thing I want is for him to go anywhere.

  “Get back here,” I say, but he’s ahead of me, he’s already thrown his jeans on the floor, he’s back beside me in a heartbeat. “One last time,” I whisper, closing my eyes as he kisses me; as he gently pushes me onto my back; spreads my legs with his knee.

  “It doesn’t have to be the last time,” he murmurs into my neck, his lips vibrating against my skin and I gasp quietly as a warm shiver wracks my body. “It could be like this for a little while longer – maybe a lot longer – if you stay.”

  And it’s then that a moment of clarity hits me like a punch to the solar plexus. I push him off me, grab the sheet and wrap it around me as I climb off the bed. Today I have a decision to make, and he’s confusing me now, he’s clouding everything. I need to leave him and this behind, just for a few hours. I need to give myself the time I need, to think, because the clock is ticking…

  “Eva…? Eva, where are you going?”

  I stop, but I don’t turn around. I clutch the sheet tight between my fingers and I drop my head, feeling my whole body tense up as he comes up behind me; as he gently touches my shoulder.

  “I don’t want you to go,” he whispers, his lips brushing the back of my neck. “What we’ve shared here…”

  I swing around, and I look right into his eyes, but he isn’t going to sway me. He isn’t going to change my plans, I’m sticking to them. I need to be alone today, so that tonight I make the right decision. The right choice.

  “What we’ve shared isn’t real, Erik. And you know that.”

  I reach out, place my hand against his chest, feel his heart beating hard and fast against my palm.

  “I need to be on my own today. I need to think.”

  He tucks a finger under my chin, tilts my head up so I look at him, and he kisses me. The softest, most gentle of kisses that causes tears to burn my eyes, and I hate that he’s made that happen. But at the same time, I don’t hate how I feel; how he’s made me feel. He’s helped, but now I need to step away, get ready to move on. With whatever I decide to do.

  “I’m glad I met you, Eva.” His mouth is so close to mine he’s almost breathing into me.

  “I’m glad I met you, too.”

  I am, glad I met him. I’m so glad I met him.

  “Will I see you again? Before you go?”

  He’s looking at me, staring right into me with those ridiculously blue eyes of his, I’m only now beginning to notice how blue they really are. I’m only now beginning to notice a lot of things.

  “Maybe.”

  I step out of his arms and he bows his head, rubs the back of his neck, and I wrap the sheet tighter around myself as I head towards the bathroom.

  “Eva?”

  I turn back around, and when our eyes meet this time I feel nothing and everything and that’s why I need to step away; spend today on my own. That was always the plan, he really isn’t going to change that. He can’t, change that. I won’t let him.

  “Be happy, okay? Whatever you decide to do just, be happy. You deserve that.”

  I smile, just a small one, and as I look at him I know that coming here was the best thing I’ve ever done. I have no regrets, just memories that will stay with me forever.

  “So do you, Erik. So do you.”

  ***

  As soon as I walk into the café Lina’s face breaks into a huge grin, and then she suddenly dips below the counter, reappearing a second later wi
th a large chocolate cake which she places carefully down on the counter as everyone in the café bursts into ‘Happy Birthday’. In Swedish. I can’t help but smile, I love this woman already. I think I’m going to miss her more than anything, when I leave here.

  “Kladdkaka,” she says, and I frown.

  “Sorry… what?”

  “The cake. Kladdkaka. Sticky Swedish chocolate cake. Baked it myself, just for you, Birthday Girl.”

  I smile, looking down at the shallow, delicious looking cake topped with cream and fresh berries. “Thank you, Lina. This is unbelievably kind of you.”

  She dismisses my thanks with a nonchalant wave of her hand as she turns and grabs a large mug from the shelf. “It’s your birthday. You deserve a treat.”

  “Do I get a gingerbread latte on the house, too?”

  “Of course! Just making it now, then we’re eating cake. We can share stories and over-indulge in chocolate, unless you’ve got other plans…?”

  “I don’t know if I’m going to see him again, Lina. Okay?”

  She places my gingerbread latte down on the counter and comes out front, picking up the cake. “We need this. Come on.”

  I follow her to a table in the corner of the café, watching as she cuts two large slices of cake, my mouth is actually watering as I check out the dense, gooey centre.

  “How was dinner last night?” Lina asks, before she shovels a large forkful of the kladdkaka into her mouth.

  “Dinner was wonderful. He was wonderful.”

  Lina smiles and jerks her fork in the direction of my as-yet-untouched cake. “Eat, go on. I spent hours slaving away, making that especially for you.”

  I scoop up a fair-sized portion, and I close my eyes and groan quietly as the intense, deep chocolate flavour floods my mouth. “This is amazing!” I sigh, immediately popping in another mouthful.

  Lina grins, and I’m overwhelmed that someone who’s only known me for a couple of days would go to this much trouble for me, she’s making a birthday I never thought I’d be celebrating alone that little bit happier. But, once Lina’s break is over, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing – celebrating alone. Because I have to. It’s the only way. Circumstances changed, and I never thought this is what it would come to, but in a strange way I’m glad that it has, come to this. Before it was too late.

  “So, Mr. Sweden…” Lina starts.

  I look at her. “What about him?”

  “You said you didn’t know if you were going to see him again.”

  “I don’t…”

  “But…?”

  I shrug, because I don’t actually know why I’m questioning this or second-guessing myself, there’s a huge part of me that’s aching to see him again. And yet, there’s another, smaller part that’s telling me to stay away. And I can’t ignore that.

  “All right,” Lina sighs, laying her fork down on her almost empty plate. “Listen, I’ve got the day off today, I only came in to see you and deliver cake, so, do you fancy some company?”

  I look at her, and I smile. I hadn’t wanted company, before, but suddenly the idea of spending my birthday alone in this beautiful place, well, it sounds like a lonely one.

  “I’d love some company. Thank you.”

  She grins and pops the last mouthful of cake into her mouth. “Great! We can trawl the shops, and – oh, I’ll introduce you to my brother, Felix! You’ll love him. He’s like a male version of me.”

  I raise an eyebrow and throw her a half smile.

  “He works in this crazy little café in the square, they do some really great food… Hey! I’ll treat you to lunch there, how does that sound?”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  “I’ll go call him, get him to reserve a table for us.”

  I sit back as Lina calls her brother, listening to her talk to him in Swedish, and I really wish this wasn’t my last day here, I’m starting to fall in love with this place. I just don’t know if staying any longer is such a good idea. Today I’m supposed to make a decision, and stick to it. That’s what I’d promised myself, to stop myself from dragging this out. To stop myself from stagnating, I can’t move on, not properly, until I make that decision.

  I look around me, and I smile as I take in this beautiful little café filled with delicious smells and happy chatter.

  I will make that decision, I won’t break that promise to myself. But, right now – right now I’m going to have some fun. Today, I’ve turned forty, and that’s when life begins. Right?

  Eight

  It’s turning out to be the best birthday ever, thanks to Lina. We’ve spent most of the day just hanging out in Gamla Stan, strolling through the well-trodden cobbled streets, checking out the shops and drinking coffee at various little cafés along the way. The Swedes are, apparently, according to Lina anyway, the world’s number one coffee drinkers, averaging around eight cups a day. Going for a fika – which basically means socialising over coffee – is a national pastime, so she told me, which is probably why there’s no shortage of cafés and bistros offering up somewhere to sit and while away an hour or so, chilling out and people watching. And we did just that, at a gorgeous little bakery and café in a quiet street, with outdoor tables situated under a sprawling chestnut tree that were, even at this freezing cold time of year, all occupied. We ate Princess Cake and drank hot chocolate and talked about everything from Lina’s love of painting to Swedish TV shows, it was the perfect way to spend a morning. I’m not even sure I thought about Erik at all, I was having way too much fun.

  It’s like I have my own personal tour guide in Lina. She’s incredibly knowledgeable about her home town, and incredibly proud of her country, and listening to her talk as we walk through the winding streets is mesmerising. I’m learning so much. For instance, I had no idea that Stockholm was founded as far back as 1252, on the site of Gamla Stan – the Old Town. This beautiful neighbourhood just exudes history, from the medieval alleyways such as the three-feet wide Mårten Trotzig Gränd, to the ornate 17th-century preserved German-style houses that line the narrow, cobbled streets. With their mansion roofs and their rich ochre and red exteriors, most of the buildings date back to the 17th Century, according to Lina, but some are, apparently, thought to be even older.

  Somewhere else Lina took me to that’s also very old is one of the city’s most famous restaurants – Den Gyldene Freden – which, when translated, means The Golden Peace. Thought to be the oldest restaurant in Sweden – possibly the oldest restaurant in the world, but Lina can’t say that for sure – Den Gyldene Freden dates back to 1722, and when we poked our heads inside to take a look, something Lina insisted I had to do, I realised why it’s such a popular place to visit. Its interior is very much in keeping with the era in which it opened, and has quite obviously taken its decor inspiration from the restaurant’s past with its cream walls, floorboards and dark brown wooden tables and chairs. There were lit candles on every table, even during daytime, it was like nothing I’ve ever seen before, and I made a mental note to eat here, when I come back. Because I will be back, Lina’s all but told me I have no choice in that matter.

  But now we’re back in the main square, in a kitschy little café with a bohemian feel, friendly staff, and fantastic food. I’ve just eaten Raggmunk – a typical Swedish winter dish of potato pancakes fried in butter and served with fried pork or bacon and lingonberries which, according to Lina, a lot of Swedes think go with everything. And now we’re enjoying gingerbread lattes and eating Saffransbullar – saffron buns – which are quite popular at this time of year here in Sweden, apparently.

  “I’m terrified to even think about the number of calories I’ve put away since I’ve been here,” I sigh, sitting back in my seat and resting a hand over my stomach. “But that lunch was delicious, Lina. Thank you.”

  She waves away my thanks with a dismissive hand. “Think nothing of it. It’s half price anyway, thanks to Felix’s discount.”

  She winks, and I laugh as I drain the last of my latte.
Lina’s brother Felix is just as amazing as his sister. Friendly, warm and, thankfully, fluent in English, he’s invited Lina and I to dinner at his apartment tonight. It’s a regular thing, apparently. His flat-mate’s the cook here at the café, and at least once a week they like to have friends over for a bit of a house party, and to sample any new ideas Lenny might have for the café’s ever-changing menu. It might be nice, a chance to try some more Swedish food before I head home. It might be nice, if I do decide not to see Erik again.

  “Anyway, what do you fancy doing this afternoon?”

  Lina’s voice breaks into my thoughts, and I look at her. “Hmm? Sorry, I was miles away.”

  “I asked what you fancied doing this afternoon.”

  “Sleeping,” I laugh, and I wonder if I’ve got room to finish off the small piece of saffron bun that’s still sitting on my plate.

  “No stamina, you British.” Lina smirks, and I poke my tongue out at her. “Seriously, you’re tired?”

  “A bit,” I sigh, looking out of the window as people stream by, all wrapped up against the cold, although, there’s still very little snow. Just the same light dusting that’s been present for the past day or so, apparently it’s unusually mild today, for the time of year. “But, you know what? You’re right. It’s my birthday, I should be out there enjoying myself.”

  “Yes, you should.” Lina leans forward and looks me right in the eye. “You want to see him again, don’t you?”

  Her words stun me a little, because I hadn’t been thinking about him, I hadn’t. But, maybe he is still there, in the back of my mind… I don’t know.

  “Call him, Eva. If you really want to see him again, call him. Don’t waste this opportunity. You never know what might happen.”

  “Are you going to start talking about fate again?”

  “I might.”

  I drop my gaze to that small piece of saffron bun still sitting on my otherwise empty plate. “It’s complicated, Lina.”