Ain't Myth-Behaving

by Katie MacAlister

“Please, any of you! Have mercy on me! Cut off my head!”

  “Pfft,” she answered, waving the subject away. “As if I can’t handle someone as pathetic as him.”

  “If that’s too much, rip my heart from my chest!”

  “Go in good health, brother. And Brynna, I do hope you’ll make me an aunt soon!” Katla hugged me again, gave Alrik a kiss, then hugged all the other Vikings as well. “Now, as for you, you entrail slime…”

  “No! No! Please don’t leave me with her! Help meeeeeeee…”

  The night air was incredibly refreshing, washing away the horribleness of Regin.

  I glanced up at the windows, the faint sound of Katla’s voice drifting down to us. “I can’t help but feel a little sorry for him.”

  “He killed my sister. He tried to kill my father,” Alrik said in a rough voice, then his shoulders twitched, and he gave me a rueful grin. “I feel sorry for him, too. Katla was never an easy woman to live with. But she seems happy now.”

  “We have the ring, that is what matters,” Bardi said as we all trooped back to the car. “What is next?”

  Alrik slid a glance my way. “We rest. Later in the morning we will return the ring to Brynnhilde and find Odin to ask for his pardon.”

  My body fired up in response to Alrik’s glance, even as my heart dropped down to my shoes. I had only one more day with him. I knew I should be content with that. I knew when I decided to sleep with him that we had no real future, despite the faux marriage. And I knew that my heart would be broken when it was time for him to go Valhalla, and I would be left behind.

  But I wanted more than just this short time with Alrik. I wanted him for a lifetime.

  Ten

  A lrik, I think I’m falling in love with you. Would you mind not going to Valhalla after all?” No, men go weird at the L-word. “Um…Alrik, I think we’ve got something good going here. I like you, you like me. The whole wild, steamy lovemaking thing isn’t bad, either. And there’s a lot we could do together, with you being immortal, and Momo Hildi saying I’d be immortal once I’m made a Valkyrie—assuming I am, but Paul says I’m a shoe-in…Oh God, now I’m rambling.” I swore as shampoo bubbles stung my eyes, and concentrated on rinsing the shampoo out of my hair.

  Five minutes later I used a hotel towel to rub clear a patch on the mirror, and stared myself down. “I can’t tell him how I feel; that’ll scare him off. Men like to know they’re desirable sexually, but they get a bit squidgy when other emotions are concerned. Think, Brynna, think! There has to be something you can say to convince him that life with me will be infinitely better than fighting, drinking, and carousing in Valhalla.”

  My eyes looked back at me in the mirror, worry evident in them.

  “Well, hell,” I told my reflection. “I’ll just tell him…I’ll just tell him I need him. He’d like that. And God knows it’s true. Damn, I need a smoke! I wonder if they sell them in the lobby.”

  I shoved down the annoying feeling of guilt that arose whenever I thought of trying to talk Alrik out of going to Valhalla, telling my conscience that I’d make him just as happy as life in the Viking’s idea of heaven would.

  By the time I finished dressing, Alrik and his men had returned from what he termed a pillaging party.

  “We bring you much food!” Torsten cried happily, waving a fistful of McDonald’s bags. “Big Macs! Cheeseburgers!”

  “Pommes frites and chicken nuggets!” Jon said, stuffing a handful of fries into his mouth. “With four different dipping sauces!”

  “So I see. You…ah…you used the money I gave you to pillage, right?”

  Grim rolled his eyes. “It’s not pillaging if you have to pay for it.”

  “But—” I was about to remind them of the lecture I’d given them about modern views of pillage when Bardi nudged me with his elbow.

  “We used your money. Alrik grumbled, but he didn’t want you mad.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed, watching with increasing dismay as the Vikings trooped into one of the three hotel rooms we’d rented upon leaving Regin. As the pile of fast-food packages mounded up on the table, I had a moment’s qualm about whether my credit card would stand up to the cost of supporting five hungry Vikings. I’d just about maxed it out paying for the rooms and pulling some cash for meals and incidentals.

  Alrik entered last, presenting me with a bag. “For you, a couscous salad. It has chicken on it, but I thought you could pick it off.”

  “Thank you,” I said, accepting the salad. He beamed down at me. I glanced from him to the four others as they pulled up chairs, hoping that he’d read the message in my eyes that I really wanted to be alone with him.

  Unfortunately, being thirteen hundred years old doesn’t go hand in hand with insight into women’s unspoken cues.

  Alrik grabbed a handful of food and plunked down next to me on the bed, nodding toward the unopened salad. “Are you not hungry, “käresta”?”

  “What exactly does käresta mean?” I asked, sidetracked by my curiosity.

  He grinned. “Sweetheart.”

  “Oh.” For some insane reason, I blushed. The avid light in his eyes confused me—how could he feel such an attraction for me and not be the least bit disconcerted by the fact that we were a few short hours away from being parted forever?

  I popped open my salad to equally gloomy thoughts, half-listening to the men as they chatted about all the things they’d seen on their foraging trip to McDonald’s.

  “What will you do first when we get to Valhöll?” Grim asked Torsten. “Mead, fighting, or women?”

  Torsten laughed. “Do you have to ask?”

  Grim nodded. “Fighting first. Then mead. Then women.”

  “That is the natural order of things,” Torsten agreed.

  “There’s fighting in Valhalla?” I asked Alrik. “I thought it was some sort of Viking heaven?”

  “It is,” he answered. I took a napkin and dabbed at a bit of ketchup on his lip. He waggled his eyebrows at me.

  “You do not know about Valhöll?” Bardi asked, astonished. “But you are a Valkyrie!”

  “I think I’m Valkyrie Lite. Aunt Agda said something about my not being a real one until Momo grants me the status. Anyway, all I know about Valhalla is that warriors who are slain go there and wait for Ragnorök.”

  “Waiting around with nothing to kill and no mead to drink and no women to bed would be hell, not heaven,” Torsten answered. “Valhöll is a glorious place, made of spears, shields, and breastplates.”

  “There are five hundred and forty doors, so wide eight hundred warriors could walk through them at the same time,” Jon added.

  “Aye, and every morn, the warriors there arm themselves and ride out onto the plains of Asgard to battle each other,” Torsten said. “When they return at night, they are served with mead and roast boar. Much bed sporting goes on afterward.” He gave a salacious wink.

  “In the morning, all who died or were wounded in battle are made whole again, and it starts over again,” Alrik said, offering me fries.

  I shook my head. “And this is your guys’ idea of heaven?”

  All five of them grinned at me. Torsten said, “Fighting, mead, and women…there can be nothing more a man could want.”

  “What about your families?” I asked, sliding a glance to Alrik. “If only warriors are allowed in, that means you’ll never see your families.”

  “They are in Asgard, too, in another of Odin’s halls,” Bardi answered, a look of yearning filling his dark eyes. “We can visit them as often as we like. I do not plan to leave my wife for some time once you take us to Valhöll.”

  “Do not look so sad,” Alrik said in a low tone, nudging my shoulder. “Our families are all in Asgard, and we will see them again. Joyous will be our reunion with them—and it will all be because of you.”

  I blinked away tears. If I’d had any question about whether Alrik was looking forward to going to Valhalla, it had just been answered. I couldn’t ask him to stay when i
t meant sacrificing everything he’d hoped for during the last thirteen hundred years.

  Just as I was about to sob into my salad, it occurred to me that perhaps Odin wasn’t going to be talked into giving Momo Hildi a pardon as easily as we’d anticipated. If that happened, Alrik and the others would continue to be cursed, but I could keep them from being bound to their ship. It wasn’t the reward they wanted, but was it really such a bad life? I selfishly brightened at that thought. Maybe there would be a future for us, after all.

  “Is it the chicken that offends you? They did not have any plain salads available for pillage.” Alrik frowned at my uneaten salad.

  “No, it’s fine,” I said, setting the salad on the nightstand. “I’m just not hungry.”

  “That is not good. You have not eaten since the wedding feast. Milkshake?” Alrik offered me a sip.

  I eyed him, wondering what it would take to get rid of the four other Vikings. “I wouldn’t mind a little milkshake,” I answered.

  He handed me the cup.

  I leaned into him and whispered in his ear, “But I’d prefer to lick it off you.”

  “You must leave now!” Alrik said quickly, cramming the last of his burger into his mouth. “Brynna wishes to lick milkshake off me.”

  Bardi choked. Grim froze, a McNugget halfway to his mouth. Jon looked confused. Torsten grinned and winked.

  I wanted to kill my husband. “Alrik!” I whapped him on the arm.

  “What?”

  “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone that!”

  “Milkshake, hmm?” Bardi asked, a thoughtful look on his face. “My wife and I never tried that.”

  Alrik leaned close and whispered, “Is milkshake licking another form of foreplay?”

  “It was going to be. Now I’m thinking of ways to use it as punishment.”

  “Ah. I’m very sorry, then. I did not know.” He kissed my fingers, his tongue being sure to caress my knuckles. “There is a change of plans. Brynna is not going to lick milkshake off me, despite it being foreplay.”

  “Foreplay?” Grim asked, frowning. “I do not know this word. What does it mean?”

  I groaned and marched into the bathroom. “Let me know when you’re done explaining it to them. I’ll be in here pretending I have a normal life until then.”

  The temptation to put my ear up against the door was so overwhelming, I had to turn the water on to keep myself from eavesdropping. Then I searched my pants pockets for the nine-hundredth time for a cigarette I might have overlooked, finally sitting on the counter.

  I didn’t have long to work up a pout, though. Evidently Alrik made his explanations quick, because in no time he was in the doorway. “They have gone. Do you wish to come out to the bed, or would you like to not lick milkshake off me in the bathroom?”

  I went into the bedroom. “Why don’t we give the milkshake a pass and just wing it,” I said with a smile, rubbing against him and kissing the tip of his nose.

  His eyes brightened as I slid my hands up his silk-covered chest and began to unbutton his shirt. “I have talked with the men without mentioning anything that you and I have done, since I knew you would not like that.”

  “Thank you. Arms, please.”

  He held out his arms so I could slide his shirt off.

  I tossed it onto the luggage rack, moving around him, admiring the muscled planes of his back. “I’ve never thought of a back as being sexy before, but I just want to lick yours.”

  “You do?” He tried to turn around to face me, but I held on to his shoulders and danced my tongue along his spine. He stiffened up, sucking in his breath as I reached around his waist to undo his belt buckle.

  “You taste delicious. Could you take the sword? Thanks.”

  He removed the scabbard from the belt before I tossed it onto his shirt, setting the sword next to the bed before returning to me. I reached for his pants but he stopped me, holding both my wrists. “You are distracting me, Brynna.”

  For one horrible second I thought he was going to reject my advances, but then I saw the fire in his eyes and knew he was just as aroused as I was.

  A little frown furrowed his brow. “Bardi knew of foreplay. He recommended it highly, but he said it was very important that I pay sufficient foreplay attention to you, lest you remain unsatisfied.”

  He was so serious, I couldn’t help but smile. “Sweetness, did I look unsatisfied last night?”

  He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “You moaned loudly, many times. You grabbed my hair and demanded more. And you liked it when I did this.”

  He grabbed one of my breasts, immediately gentling his touch so that it was a caress rather than a grope.

  It was my turn to suck in my breath. “Oh, yes. I do like that.”

  “Bardi also said that there is something he and his wife enjoyed. She would pretend to be a shy milkmaid, and he would be a lusty woodsman who saved her from a wolf. I think the suggestion has merit. You take off all your clothes and stand over there, by the window. Pretend the chair is a wolf that has you trapped. I will emerge from the bathroom and save you.”

  He pulled off his pants while he was speaking, taking up his sword (the metal one), and marching to the bathroom.

  I couldn’t help it, I laughed.

  He popped out of the bathroom looking indignant.

  “Alrik, that’s a very interesting suggestion, but I think things are still new enough with us that we don’t have to go to such elaborate lengths to get our jollies. To be totally honest, I doubt if we ever will. You make me drool just looking at you.” I allowed my eyes to roam over all of him. “While I appreciate your attempt to spice things up, I think we’ll be okay without role-playing.”

  He set his sword down again, his hands on his hips, his penis waving at me. “I do not understand. You don’t wish to foreplay now?”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s…” I looked into his eyes, and burst into laughter again, wrapping my arms around him before he could step back in outrage. “You’re so damned adorable. Go get the milkshake. I’ll let you eat it off me, okay?”

  He was a bit skeptical that a milkshake could be more fun than the milkmaid and lusty woodsman, but by the time he undressed me, nibbling and kissing the flesh exposed by every removed garment, he was happily drizzling a now room temperature milkshake on various and sundry parts of me.

  “I’m getting sticky,” I protested when he went back for seconds on my breasts.

  “Then I am not licking you off well enough. I must apply myself more diligently.” He sucked one rock-hard nipple into his mouth, causing me to thrash around on the bed.

  “Good Lord, you pick things up quickly,” I gasped in between moans of pleasure.

  He smiled down at my wet nipple, blowing gently on it.

  I recalled the discussion that had taken place when I was half-conscious in the boat.

  “They’re brown. Disappointed?”

  “You heard? No, I’m not disappointed. They match the milkshake.” He smeared a little more melted shake on my breast, laving his tongue over it before drizzling a chocolatey line down my breastbone, circling my belly button, and heading to regions south. His mouth followed, cleaning up the path, until he was face-to-genitals.

  He frowned at my crotch. I frowned at his frowning at my crotch.

  “Is something the matter down there? I don’t wax, because if there is a torture worse than yanking pubic hair out by the roots, I don’t know what it is, but everything is in working order. Why are you frowning at my girly parts?”

  “Girly parts? Is that what you call it?” He shifted until he was between my legs, propped up on his elbows, still frowning at my groin. He prodded gently.

  “You’re making me very nervous. What’s wrong?”

  He prodded again. “I don’t know how to give you the pleasure you gave me. You took me into your mouth, but there is nothing here to take into my mouth.”

  I giggled. I couldn’t help it.

  “
You laugh at me?” He rose up high enough to glare at me over my pelvic bone.

  That just made me laugh out loud. “I’m not laughing at you, sweetness. It’s just that I’ve never had to walk anyone through oral sex before, and it’s making me a bit silly. We’ll just take this a step at a time.”

  The next ten minutes were anything but arousing. I felt more like a specimen for budding ob-gyns than a woman awaiting pleasure from her husband. I went over the basic working system, told him what I found pleasurable, and let him go to work while I lay back stifling the urge to giggle again.

  “So if I touch you here”—the tip of his tongue dabbed at me—“this is not arousing?”

  “Not by itself, no.”

  “Ah. And here?”

  “Nope, sorry.”

  “Hmm.” He readjusted himself. “Now?”

  “You’re getting warmer. You know, maybe we should just skip this for another time.”

  “No, you must give me the opportunity to learn. This looks like it has potential. What about—”

  His mouth descended upon very sensitive flesh, causing me to buck upward, clutching his head to me as starbursts burst into glorious being behind my eyes. “Holy Mary, mother of God!”

  He smiled at my crotch. “Now we are getting somewhere. Let us see if I can find this G-spot you mentioned.”

  “No, no, I don’t think I could take it. Just do what you did a second ago!”

  His fingers curved into me at the same time as his tongue did a dance of pure ecstasy around my now highly aroused flesh. By the time he worked out a rhythm that had me gibbering in ecstasy, I was mindless of all my concerns. The future could worry about itself—right now, all that mattered was the man who had somehow stolen my heart.

  “I love you,” I told him as he slid up my body, pulling my hips up to meet his. “Don’t leave me; please don’t leave me.”

  A rapturous groan was the only answer as my inner muscles tightened around him in an orgasm that just about lifted me off the bed. His voice was hoarse as he shouted my name into my neck, his hips bucking wildly against me, the burning brand of his penis all but searing my intimate flesh as he poured himself into me.