Chapter 92


Normally I was the one turning pale white on a flight, but Eric beat me to it making me ask, “What’s wrong?”

He stared at his phone oblivious to everything around him until the flight attendant managed to get his attention, telling him he had to turn it off and put it away, before he finally turned to me still deep in thought, asking, “What?”

“What’s wrong?” I repeated and reached over to brush the hair out of his eyes. I’d take cranky-frustrated-overprotective Eric any day over the one in front of me now. He seemed lost and confused, not unlike that day he’d woken up from his coma, and it was starting to scare me.

Eventually his eyes focused on mine and softened as he mimicked my gesture, tucking my hair behind my ear, and said, “Nothing.”

My mouth opened, prepared to call him on his bullshit, but the sound of the captain’s voice over the PA system made it shut again and the first half of our flight was filled with Eric’s attempts to distract me with everything from books and snacks to his lips on mine. My overactive libido didn’t help matters and was only too happy to let him distract away, so it wasn’t until we finally had to pull away from each other or else risk giving everyone in first class a show that I calmed down enough to ask, “What had you so bothered before takeoff?”

When his hand dove for my thigh I swatted it away before he could get me going again and he slumped down in his seat, sighing, “Do you remember me telling you about the woman that showed up at the house on the day that I tried cooking Coq Au Vin?” I’d forgotten all about her until he’d mentioned it again and nodded my reply while swallowing the urge to tease him about the fire department showing up that day because it would only lead to thoughts of Eric dressed as a fireman…with his hose out…dousing the fire between my legs…


Stupid oversexed pregnancy brain.

I squirmed in my seat involuntarily at just the thought, but his next words shocked me back into the present. “She was in Bon Temps.” At my dumbfounded expression he added, “And at the airport just now when we boarded.”

“What?” I asked in disbelief. “How? Why?” Thinking there had to be more to the story, I asked, “Is she….you know, one of your past flings?”

The thought that one of his previous fuck buddies had come back into his life made my old insecurities flare and my stomach pitch, but his expression put me at ease as he declared, “No! I never saw her before that day. She’d even said that we’d never met before when she introduced herself, so I’m guessing we hadn’t met during those three weeks I can’t remember either.”

I remembered him saying that same thing at the time and started digging into my purse, looking for my cell phone, as I said, “We need to call the police.”

Eric’s hand stilled mine as he said, “Sookie, we’re thirty thousand feet up in the air over who knows what state. Besides, I don’t think there’s much that can be done. She only approached me the one time so I doubt I can get a restraining order yet.”

I suddenly understood how Eric could get his hackles raised so easily over keeping me safe. In that moment all I wanted to do was lock him away from everyone and everything. If she was psycho enough to follow him from L.A. to Bon Temps, there was no telling what she was capable of. While I was making mental lists that involved bodyguards and head to toe Kevlar the sound of Eric sighing got my attention as he added, “She met up with Jason when he went to the bar the night before Thanksgiving too.”

“What?” I screeched, not giving a single fuck that I was now causing a scene. Not only did she follow my husband halfway across the country, but she was sidling up to my brother, the Shitter mogul, too?

“Calm down,” he said while wrapping his arm around me. “Stress isn’t good for the baby. I’ll call my private investigator when we get home and see if he can dig up anything on her. Hopefully she’s just a harmless fan with a little too much time on her hands.”

I tried to formulate a shitty response in 160 characters or less, but decided I would tell Jason he’d have to come up with a ShitLonger website since I couldn’t pare it down and asked, “Private investigator? To hell with that, you need to hire those bodyguards you were talking about, only for you instead of me.” Eric just rolled his eyes at my perfectly sound idea, but the last thirty seconds of our conversation finally clicked in my head and I repeated, “Private investigator? Why would you already have a private investigator?”

He blanched again and suddenly became very interested in everything that didn’t have to do with answering my question. With my eyes staring a hole into the side of his head, I nudged him making him finally lean closer to me and whisper, “I hired him to look for my mother years ago.”

Oh. I knew how painful that time was for him, so I wasn’t going to dwell on it and for the rest of the flight I flip flopped between being panicked and calm with Eric trying to soothe my frayed nerves. By the time our flight landed, I nearly gave myself whiplash eying every brunette I could see and then pointing them out one by one asking Eric if they were his stalker. None of them were and on the drive home he said I was overreacting when I suggested getting a sketch artist to draw a picture of her. I wasn’t overreacting; I wanted to know whose ass I was going to have to kick and I didn’t think it was too much to ask.

We were barely in the door when I followed him up into our bedroom with our luggage and demanded he call the private investigator, listening as he described the details and only then hearing for the first time about the conversation the crazy bitch had with Jason. As soon as he hung up, I said in a detached voice, “She thinks you’re her boyfriend.”

Eric slumped down on the bed running his hands through his hair and sighed, “It sounds like it.”

“And she’s waiting for you to get divorced,” I added.

His eyes locked onto mine as he emphatically said, “That’ll never happen.”

I could feel my face flushing with anger, not even caring about the part where she called me a ‘cow’, but never once doubting the veracity of his claim that they’d never met before. What pissed me off was the fact that it seemed everyone was out to get us. From the paparazzi to crazed stalkers, no one would ever leave us alone. I couldn’t help it when I fell in love with Eric, but I had no grasp of what a life with him would entail. We would never have any privacy. We would never be able to go anywhere without looking over our shoulders. Being with Eric was my only out of this world dream growing up. Other than that, I’d just wanted the simple things in life; a husband, family, and career that I loved. Crazy amounts of money and fame were never on my wish list, but it seemed I couldn’t have one without the other. How were we supposed to raise a family in that kind of insanity? What if she tried to hurt him? What if she, or some other crazy person, tried to hurt our baby?

I hadn’t realized my fingernails were digging into my palms until Eric came to stand in front of me and pried them apart, saying, “Calm down Sookie.”

I could no longer distinguish between my own feelings and the ones brought on by the pregnancy, but I didn’t really give a shit at the moment and said, “No! I won’t calm down! This is all bullshit! What if she hurts you? She’s already under the delusion that she’s your mistress, so what’s to stop her from pulling a Kathy Bates and kidnapping you; tying you to her bed and breaking your ankles with a mallet if you tried to escape?”

I was fond of those ankles damn it and if he was going to be tied down to any bed, it would be ours!

Mischief lit up in his eyes and he grinned, saying, “Well, I was named sexiest man alive five mother fucking times.” He took a step back and sighed dramatically, adding, “You can’t really blame her. I mean, who could resist me?”

I didn’t want to smile at his egotistical joke because I wasn’t done being pissed off yet, but like he’d just pretty much said, he was irresistible.

Damn him!

Giving him my best stern face, I asked, “Have you ever thought about being in a superhero movie? You could be Ego Man with your arrogance sucking the oxygen from the room making the bad guys pass out.”

A leer I’d seen many times over the last few weeks came on his face and he whipped his shirt off as he pressed his body against mine, asking, “Are you saying I have a big head?” He pressed his other big head against my front, but my eyes were too busy tracing his Pecs and abs to notice his hands had undone the button on his low rise jeans until it seemed as though they’d magically disappeared, with my second favorite muscle of his coming into view.

His ass was still my favorite though.

The more I stared at it the larger it got, much like his ego, and I half wondered if that was my own super power; engorging dicks with my stare alone until the owner lost consciousness. I guess I’d know if Eric passed out, but I refused to be swayed, even while his hands started removing my clothes. I batted them away, saying, “Eric! I’m serious! We’re not done talking about this!”

Undeterred, Eric gently nudged my body backwards toward the bed until the backs of my legs were pressed against the mattress and he grabbed the hem of my shirt, pulling it up over my head, as he said with a smirk, “Fine. Talk away.”

My lips were barely open to continue my rant when he stole it, and every other thought in my head, away with a kiss.

Whatever it was, I was sure it had been important.

“Eric, I…” His lips pressed down harder against my own silencing whatever it was I was about to say, not that I could remember what it was anymore. My God, that man’s lips would be the death of me, but oh, what a way to go. I had no idea if it was just a God given talent or thanks to his considerable experience that helped him perfect the art of kissing, but I didn’t care. It almost seemed selfish of me to keep him all to myself because his lips could end of wars, but he was mine and I wasn’t about to share him with anyone, much less some crazy psycho bitch trailing after him like a vulture.

I felt my pants fall down around my ankles and the girls being freed from my bra seconds later with Eric spinning my body so that his front was pressed against my back. My ass pushed back against him as one of his hands settled on my breast while the other one slid down my front and dipped into my panties. I was never ‘not in the mood’ around him, so I was surprised when he said in a husky voice, “You’re already so wet for me, lover.”


Half of me wondered if his amnesia had spread to his memories after the accident, if that surprised him, while the other half wondered what happened to his stance that there’d be no Eric/Sookie nookie (unless I got him drunk first), but those thoughts disappeared right along with my panties as he bent me over the bed and nudged my legs farther apart while he growled out, “It’s been too long…I can’t wait…” I felt him place a soft kiss on the middle of my back and heard him whisper, “I’ll make love to you later, I promise.” His voice took a decidedly harder edge, as did his kiss when he lightly bit down on the skin in front of his lips, and he added, “But right now, I need to fuck you.”

“Fuck!” I gasped as I felt him slide into me. It wasn’t a question; a chastisement; it was total agreement. Fucking sounded really good to me and felt even better. He was right; it had been too long and I was grateful he wasn’t making me wait any longer than necessary. The last week had been torture, but now that he and the Kraken were back where they belonged, all was right in the world, at least for the moment. There were no paparazzi or crazy stalkers, it was just me and him, and I let all of my worries go as Eric made sure I could think of nothing but him.

For all of his ‘fuck’ talk, he was surprisingly gentle at first, slowly working himself in and out of me. It was pure bliss and my head fell forward onto the mattress while I enjoyed nothing more than the feeling of him inside of me, but as his pace slowly started to increase, so did the tension coiling in my lower half and I managed to crawl up onto the mattress with Eric’s help, bracing myself on my hands and knees, so the differences in our height wouldn’t be an obstacle.

“Fuck…” he whispered when I presented myself to him like a cat in heat.

When he took a moment too long admiring the view, I arched my back as far as I could and said, “Exactly; now get back to it.”

A wicked smirk came onto his face as he accused, “Bossy,” and slid right back where he belonged. Our sextivities had been limited when Eric was still in his cast with me on top the majority of the time, like a country song trying to save a horse by riding my cowboy, but now that he was fully mobile again I intended on reaping the benefits before my growing belly put a damper on things. Thanks to the position we were in Eric was hitting not only my G-spot, but my H, I, and J spots too making my body spasm spastically in front of him like I’d been tasered. My arms had long since given up on keeping my upper half upright and had it not been for Eric holding up my hips, I would’ve been sprawled across the mattress. I’m sure if he hadn’t been making my body sing the ABC’s, I would’ve been embarrassed by my reactions to it all, but I couldn’t be bothered thanks to the orgasm that ripped out of my body from my toes all the way out of my mouth in a horribly inelegant grunt filled scream.

“Beautiful,” he purred from behind me with one of his hands leaving my hips to trail a line through the sweat glistening across my back.

Every nerve ending I had felt electrified and I involuntarily twitched at his gentle caress while I snorted at his appraisal. He’d slowed his pace for a moment to allow my body time to come back down from Mount Climax, but as soon as my eyes were able to focus again, he picked up his pace, saying, “We’re not done yet.”

“You’re the bossy one,” I huffed out, but my giggle gave me away. Eric’s free hand slid from my back to my front and pulled my body upright and resting on my knees with him still inside of me. From our position on the bed, our reflection in the mirror above the dresser was directly in front of us and my breath caught in my throat seeing it.

My hair was plastered to the side of my head where it had been pounded into the mattress and my skin was flush with color, but my eyes could only focus on Eric. His eyes were trailing along our reflected forms and his left hand moved to my breast while his right slid down to where we were joined. I gasped from the loss as he slid out of me only to thrust himself up through my folds while he said, “Do you see what you do to me?”

“Yes,” I whispered hoarsely.

A blind man could see THAT.

He continued to tease me by sliding against my skin with his hand bearing down on himself providing additional pressure. My lust ratcheted up a notch seeing Eric touching himself so intimately, but I felt jealous at the same time and pushed his hand away, replacing it with my own. He hissed at the contact and bucked harder against me while I smiled knowing I affected him just as much as he affected me and closed my eyes to become temporarily blind myself, ‘reading’ the braille sliding across my fingertips.

I wasn’t at all surprised that it was nothing but dirty-talk.

It wasn’t long before the cock tease became too much for me to handle and I tried to slip him back inside of me, but he thwarted my efforts.

“Eric…” I whined, pushing my ass back against him as my eyes popped open. “You said we weren’t done,” I added grumpily. I sure as hell wasn’t done and I knew he wasn’t either. I didn’t even care about how pitiful I looked with my lower lip pouting out like a child being told I couldn’t have a cookie.

But I didn’t want a cookie; I wanted nookie.

“Now who’s bossy?” he chuckled, biting down on where my shoulder met my neck as he thrust back inside of me.

I would’ve glared at him if my eyes hadn’t crossed and his fingertip finding my clit only made my forgiveness that much more hurried; just like my rapidly building second climax. My arms flung out at my sides seeking something to hold onto with my hands grasping nothing but air as my lips cried out Eric’s name over and over.

“Look at us lover,” he demanded into my ear and nipped at my skin.

My eyes uncrossed at his command and found Eric’s eyes in the mirror across from us which were staring lower down our bodies. I stared unabashedly, watching as Eric thrust in and out of me while his hands played my body like a fiddle and I felt him swell even larger inside of me as he snarled into my ear, “Cum. Now!” He’d punctuated his words with a much more forceful thrust of his hips and I had no choice but to obey Mr. Bossy-No-Pants.

A sobbing cry left my lips as I fell apart with my second orgasm and Eric followed right behind me with a strangled roar. His knees started to buckle and we both fell forward onto the mattress while we tried to catch our breath. He’d moved to my side so I wouldn’t be crushed underneath him and when my heart rate slowed to near normal I turned to see Eric looking just as dazed as I felt. It irked me a little that he looked even sexier with his disheveled hair and sweaty skin.

Five times, mother fucker. Five times, indeed.

Well, since I was going to be a mother and he was the cause of that, and he’d already fucked me twice, I figured he owed me at least three more and set about settling our debt.

Eric always paid his debts in full; even imaginary ones.

Monday brought with it a return to normalcy, at least what was normal for us, with each of us going back to work. Eric hadn’t heard back from the private investigator yet, but I was still feeling a little anxious about it all. I felt like we were being hunted by an invisible predator and I hated feeling helpless. I may have hated the paparazzi circus that seemed to spring up everywhere, but at least we knew they were there. They didn’t lurk in dark corners, behind bushes, or in small town bars in Louisiana spouting off crazy talk to my half-witted brother. I wanted to track down this Debbie Pelt person and smack some sense into her.

That was a lie; I just wanted to smack her.

I knew it made me a bad Christian, but I couldn’t help it. My protective instincts were on overdrive at the thought of anyone trying to hurt Eric or the baby and if I dwelled on it for too long, I could feel the anger pulsing through my body to the point where I was surprised sparks didn’t shoot out of my fingertips.

I hoped it would happen so I could give Debbie Pelt the shock of her life.

I forced away all thoughts of crazy stalkers by the time the first bell rung on Monday morning and I’d noticed during the class I had Tara in that she seemed a little more standoffish than normal. I let her be figuring she might have just been having a bad day, but when her mood hadn’t improved by Tuesday I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. She rolled her eyes at me one too many times during class, so when she did it again as I welcomed everyone back at rehearsal after school, asking how their Thanksgiving holiday was, I asked, “Tara? Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No,” she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know she was lying and prodded her further, asking, “So, how was your Thanksgiving?”

She snorted angrily, asking, “Does Wild Turkey count? ‘Cause that’s the only turkey that was in my house.”


I immediately felt guilty. Thanks to Mr. Beck, I’d known that Tara’s mother was an alcoholic, but I’d been so wrapped up in Eric, the baby, and just life, that it never even crossed my mind that any of my students wouldn’t be able to celebrate the holiday because of their circumstances at home. She must’ve seen the remorse in my eyes and mistook it for pity because she immediately snapped, “Don’t look at me like that. I wasn’t expecting any different anyhow.”

“Tara,” I said softly, “clearly, you’re upset. I’m sorry that…”

My anxiety was kicking up a notch with this very scenario being the epitome of my nightmares as she cut me off, while the other students stood wide-eyed at our escalating, now heated, discussion, saying, “That shit ain’t what pisses me off. I don’t live in no fairy tale thinkin’ a big ass turkey with all the fixin’s is gonna fix my fucked up life. YOU are what pisses me off!”

“Me?” I shrieked, with my tone and voice level now matching hers.

“Yes, you!” she spat back angrily. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, completely confused. “It’s Tuesday. We always have rehearsals on Tuesday.”

She rolled her eyes for the thousandth time, explaining, “What are you doing here; in this school; in this neighborhood? You lucked out and married some hotshot movie star, so it ain’t like you need the money and as far as I can tell, you ain’t performing any court ordered community service, so what in the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out shopping on Rodeo Drive or some shit?”

The timidity I’d thought I would feel if I was confronted by one of my students never surfaced and instead I felt nothing but indignation. I’d gotten enough grief from Eric, and then Pam, and I wasn’t about to be bullied by some teenager with a chip on her shoulder. My brain was nothing but a red swirling haze and I stupidly answered, “I work here!”

“No shit!” she replied just as angrily. “WHY do you work here? You obviously don’t feel comfortable enough to wear whatever humungous diamond ring he must’ve bought you thinking one of us is gonna rob you and you couldn’t be bothered to come in for more than one day last week when you probably jetted off to Hawaii or some shit for the weekend, so why are you even bothering with us? You should just quit so we can get someone in here that isn’t too busy being some rich and famous guy’s wife, easing her guilty conscience by sometimes coming to work in the ‘hood.”

My anger surpassed the internal red line that I thought was my limit and exploded into the room. In one angry tirade Tara managed to bring back everything I’d stupidly worried about at the beginning of my relationship with Eric; being thought of as a gold digger, but I was secure in not just my relationship with Eric, but in my place at his side now and would be damned if I was going to listen to anyone say otherwise. My voice got dangerously low as I took a step forward and everyone took a step back, including Tara, as I said, “I did luck out. I married the man of my dreams and for some reason he loves me just as much as I love him. This,” I took off my wedding band and whipped my tattooed finger in front of her face, “is the only ring he bought me when we got married and it’s the only one I want. I didn’t marry some hot shot rich and famous movie star,” I seethed. “I married Eric Northman, the man. Everything else that comes with it; the fame; the money; is more nightmare than dream. We can’t do anything or go anywhere without it being news. He’s got demented stalkers following him halfway across the country. His own parents only want him for his money, but me? I. Could. Care. Less. I grew up just as poor as the rest of you and I worked for everything I ever got. I only got to go to college thanks to getting good enough grades to earn a scholarship and if Eric didn’t have a penny to his name, I still would’ve married him.” Of course I left out the part that Jose Cuervo played in matchmaking. “Giving me his love and affection are what makes me wealthy. No amount of money can top that.” I’d been stalking towards her during my rant until she was finally pressed against the stage with nowhere else to go, so I took a step back, along with a deep breath, and announced to the room, “As for last week? When I left here on Monday afternoon I fell.” Looking at all of the faces staring back at me, I explained, “I’m pregnant and there was some bleeding, so the doctor recommended I take it easy for the rest of the week. That’s why I wasn’t here.” I knew it was only a matter of time before the pregnancy made its way to the public and felt comfortable sharing the news now that Gran knew.

I admittedly saw a lot of myself in Tara, especially in the stubborn set of her jaw, so I wasn’t surprised when it jutted out as she asked in a much calmer tone, “But why are you here?”

My eyes stared back at her and I could see the little girl hiding behind the tough exterior. While we had underprivileged childhoods in common, I was fortunate enough to have had a loving caregiver in Gran and Bon Temps was considered safe enough that people rarely locked their front doors.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Eric was born and raised there.

I wanted to wrap my arms around her; I wanted to somehow protect her from everything that ailed her, but I knew that would be pushing my luck, so instead I merely tucked some stray hair behind her ear and smiled softly, asking, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

It took a moment, but the tension eventually dropped from the room and her shoulders relaxed with her eyes staring down at her feet before finally coming back up to meet mine. A small smile played on her lips while she just shrugged in response before asking, “Should I head on down to Mr. Beck’s office?”

I didn’t care about her mouthy retorts and I certainly couldn’t throw stones where vulgar language was concerned. I may have viewed it differently if we’d been in the middle of class, but it was enough for me to know that we’d made some sort of progress and instead of beating a dead horse, I mimicked her shrug, asking, “Why would you do that?” I turned to the rest of the students staring at us and clapped my hands together once, saying, “Alright, this show’s over, but we have another one to get ready for, so let’s get to work.”

But, I had a feeling the hard work was already done.


One comment on “Chapter 92

  1. kleannhouse says:

    yeah happy sex time with the sex god…… KY

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s