The Swede

by Maureen Smith

  When her phone chirped on the bed, she walked over and looked down to read the text, expecting to see another message from Nadia or Lennox or—God forbid—her mother.

  Her pulse beat faster when she saw that the text was from Viggo. Finally!

  U up? he wrote.

  She smiled coyly, picked up the phone and typed: Is this The Swede?

  The one and only.

  Her smile turned into an outright grin. Before she could reply, she saw three small dots dancing on the screen. He was typing again.

  She waited, literally, with bated breath.

  I know it’s late and you’ve had a long day. But I need to see you. Can we Skype?

  She felt a spark of pleasure so fierce it shot straight to her girl parts. He needed to see her. Not wanted. Needed. How fucking hot was that?

  Biting her bottom lip, she texted back: Let me switch over to my laptop.

  Hurry.

  Well, damn!

  Her pulse was racing with excitement as she tossed her phone on the nightstand, opened the bottom drawer and took out her laptop. She was about to flip it open when she suddenly remembered that she was wearing Viggo’s jersey. Not wanting to look like a superfan—or a puck bunny—she set aside her laptop and quickly rummaged through her suitcase for something to change into.

  After swapping out the jersey for a cropped tank top that exposed her stomach, she climbed into bed and arranged the pillows against the headboard before settling back into them. With her laptop on her thighs, she logged into Skype, found Viggo’s name in her contacts and hit the Video Call button.

  He picked up immediately.

  Just seeing his face on the screen quickened her heartbeat and made her belly clench. She’d almost forgotten how absolutely breathtaking he was.

  Those hypnotic gray eyes stared back at her. “There you are.”

  “Here I am.” She sounded breathy.

  His smile was slow and sexy. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “So are you.” God, was he ever. His ripped arms were bulging out of a white wifebeater—ugh, she hated that word, but yum to his mouthwatering biceps. He sported a tattoo of the Swedish flag on his right arm and tribal tattoos on the other. He looked insanely hot and fuckable. Seeing him shirtless would have been even better, though she probably would have embarrassed herself by licking her laptop screen.

  When his gaze lowered to her breasts, she felt her nipples tighten and poke at the fabric of her tank top. There was no mistaking the flare of lust in the eyes that slid back up to her face.

  “Are you in bed?” His voice was husky.

  “I am.” She practically purred the words. “You?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Living room.”

  She glanced behind him. “It looks dark.”

  “The lights are off.”

  For some reason, it turned her on even more to think of him sitting in a darkened room staring at her face on his laptop.

  As if on cue, “Living Room Flow” began playing in the background. Scarlett bit her lip as the seductive instrumental notes slid over her before Jhené began singing, “I’m so glad you called right on time. You must have just read my mind….”

  “Holy shit.” Viggo was peering closely at her neck. “Is that a hickey?”

  “Umm-hmm.” She smiled, reaching up to touch the faint love bite. “Thank you for the going-away present.”

  His grin was sheepish. “I’m sorry. I guess I got a little carried away.”

  “Don’t apologize. I love it when you get carried away.”

  “It’s very easy to do with you.”

  She smiled coyly, looking up at him from under her lashes. “Thank you for the beautiful flowers. The gardenias were a really nice touch.”

  “I was hoping you’d think so,” he murmured. “Ever since Saturday night, I’ve been picturing you with that flower in your hair.”

  “And wearing nothing else?” she said with a suggestive grin.

  He gave a low chuckle. The sound was so sexy it curled her toes. She stared at his gorgeous face, wondering if the stubble on his jaw would be rough against her inner thighs. She was dying to find out.

  “…If these walls could talk they’d say pick me up and put me on…this bed is way too soft, it’s time to get off….”

  Viggo’s eyes gazed into hers from beneath heavy lids. “What’s that song you’re listening to?”

  “‘Living Room Flow’ by Jhené Aiko. Ever heard it?”

  “No, but I’m enjoying it.”

  “It’s sexy as hell, isn’t it?”

  “It is.” Viggo leaned back into the sofa, a lazy smile curving his lips. “You have really diverse taste in music, don’t you?”

  “I do,” she agreed, smiling. “I’ve always loved rock ’n’ roll, especially heavy metal. But I’m also a huge fan of K-pop, R&B, reggae, psychedelic, and folk. I just love good music that speaks to me, you know?”

  “I do.” Viggo smiled, watching her. “I love the way your face lights up when you talk about music.”

  She grinned. “I can’t help it. Music is life.”

  “I agree.” His gaze was warm. “Someone uploaded a video from your show to YouTube. You guys sounded great.”

  “Thank you,” Scarlett said appreciatively. “It was a good night.”

  “That seems to be the consensus. I’ve read nothing but rave reviews from people who were at the show.”

  “Really?” Scarlett was thrilled. “It totally rocks when people enjoy our performances.”

  “What’s not to enjoy? You guys are amazing.”

  “Aww.” She blew him a kiss.

  He pretended to catch it and smear it over his lips. When she let out a delighted laugh, he winked at her.

  “Since you’re a spokesman for Skype,” she said teasingly, “do you get, like, a bonus every time you actually use it?”

  “Nah,” he said with a chuckle. “They paid me enough when I signed the contract.”

  “I bet.” Scarlett grinned and relaxed deeper into the mound of pillows behind her. “So what’d you do with yourself tonight?”

  “Not much,” he drawled. “Just hung out with my teammates.”

  “Did you have fun?”

  “Not as much fun as I would’ve had with you.”

  Scarlett melted all the way down to her toes. “I can’t wait to go on our dinner date.”

  “Tell me about it,” he said gruffly. “This month can’t end soon enough.”

  “Agreed.”

  They shared a little smile that left Scarlett tingling with anticipation. His lips looked so full and kissable. She ached to feel them sliding up her inner thighs and pressing hotly against her sex.

  After another moment, he asked conversationally, “So what does your room look like?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing special. Just a standard hotel room.”

  “Let me see it.”

  Amused by the request, she picked up her laptop and panned it around the room. “See? Nothing special. Well, except for your flowers.” She lingered on the bouquet of gardenias. “See how gorgeous and elegant they are? They totally class up the joint.”

  Viggo chuckled. “Cool.”

  She came back on the screen. “You probably stay in nicer rooms when you’re on the road.”

  “Not always.” His eyes resettled on her face. “Are your bandmates next door?”

  “Down the hall.” She smiled wryly. “At the moment, three of them are downstairs at the bar and one is off somewhere doing God knows what.”

  Viggo gave her a lazy smile. “What do you guys usually do after shows?”

  “Not much, really. We usually just grab something to eat and hang out.”

  “What about parties?”

  “What about them?”

  “Do you go?”

  Scarlett shrugged. “Sometimes.”

  Viggo looked like he wanted her to elaborate. So she did.

  “We like
checking out new clubs. If we’re traveling with another band, we usually party with them a few times during the tour. It really just depends on what else is going on or what city we’re in. Some tours are more eventful than others.”

  Viggo nodded slowly, absorbing her answer.

  She smiled. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Depends.”

  “Depends?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Depends on what?”

  “The question.”

  Her brow rose higher. “Are there certain questions you won’t answer?”

  “Ask me your question and I’ll tell you.”

  “Why didn’t you ask me to dance at the engagement party?”

  His eyes glinted. “Did you want me to?”

  “I—” She blushed. “That’s not the point.”

  He smiled a crooked smile. “You’re an amazing dancer, Scarlett. Maybe I didn’t think I could keep up.”

  She studied him, lips twitching. “That’s not the reason.”

  He looked amused. “How do you know?”

  “Because you’re too confident to let something like that intimidate you. And I’ve seen an old clip of you dancing at some party. You’ve got rhythm, white boy.”

  He laughed—that warm, sexy, infectious laugh that always fried some of her brain cells.

  “So what gives?” she persisted. “I saw you watching me on the dance floor. Why didn’t you make your move?”

  Viggo stared at her mouth, then slowly lifted his eyes to hers. “I didn’t think I could handle it.”

  Her heart thumped a crazy little beat. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t think you realize how mesmerizing you are. The way you dance…I got so fucking turned on just watching you. Taking you in my arms? Holding you close in front of all those people?” He gave his head a slow shake. “Like I said, I didn’t think I could handle it.”

  His words set her pulse galloping faster than a herd of wild horses. “Oh,” was all she could whisper.

  “Yeah. Oh.” His eyes were fixed on her face, hot and glittering.

  She licked her lips. Swallowed hard.

  The pull between them was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Powerful. Consuming. Scary.

  “Why don’t you have a boyfriend, Scarlett?”

  The question caught her off guard. “What?”

  “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” Viggo repeated.

  “I don’t know. I guess I just haven’t met anyone special enough to deserve the title. And it doesn’t help that I’m on the road several months at a time,” she added ruefully. “Separation is tough on relationships. You know that better than anyone.”

  “I do,” he agreed. “It makes dating that much more challenging.”

  Scarlett nodded, watching his face as intently as he was watching hers. “Have you had a lot of serious relationships?”

  “I’ve had a few.”

  She felt an irrational surge of jealousy toward the women who’d garnered more than a one-night stand. Over the years he’d been photographed with dozens of different chicks on his arm. She couldn’t remember seeing him with the same companion more than once, but she’d obviously missed something.

  “How long has it been since you’ve had a serious girlfriend?”

  His lips twitched. “It’s been a while.”

  “Hmm.” She crossed one ankle over the other. “Do you lose interest very easily?”

  He chuckled, shifting on the sofa. “There’s no way to answer that without lowering your opinion of me.”

  She grinned. “What do you mean?”

  “If I answer yes, you’ll think I’m a shallow prick. If I blame the women for not holding my interest, you’ll think I’m an arrogant dickwad. It’s a lose-lose question. But you knew that.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Scarlett laughingly protested. “You think I was trying to set you up?”

  “Weren’t you?”

  “No.”

  He gave her a knowing look.

  “Maybe just a little,” she relented with a grin.

  His laugh was a soft rumble.

  Scarlett was enjoying their conversation so much, she didn’t want it to end. She wondered if he felt the same.

  “What’s your middle name?” he asked her.

  She chuckled. “I’m not telling you.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s kinda embarrassing.”

  “C’mon,” he scoffed. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “It’s pretty corny.”

  “What is it? Tell me.”

  She hesitated, biting her lip. “You have to promise not to laugh.”

  His eyes glimmered. “I promise.”

  “Cross your heart, hope to die—”

  “Scarlett.”

  She sighed. “It’s Rain.”

  “Rain?”

  She nodded, bracing herself for jokes.

  “Scarlett Rain,” Viggo murmured experimentally. “Wow. That’s beautiful.”

  Pleasure warmed her insides. “You think so?”

  “Absolutely. It sounds poetic. Suits you perfectly.”

  She sighed. “I suppose it could have been worse. They could have named me Purple instead of Scarlett. Then I’d be—”

  “Purple Rain.” Viggo laughed, and so did she.

  Long after the humorous moment passed, they sat smiling at each other.

  “I already know your middle name,” Scarlett told him.

  “Yeah? What is it?”

  “Björn,” she announced importantly. “Viggo Björn Sandström.”

  He winked. “That’s me.”

  She smiled at him. “You have a very Swedish name.”

  “I get that a lot. Do you like it?”

  “I love it. It’s strong and sexy and has a lot of character.”

  He smiled and lowered his eyes for a moment, his lashes fanning over his cheeks. They were so thick and spiky. She wanted to put her cheek against his and feel those lush lashes brush her skin.

  “So how’s your bed?” he murmured, his eyes lifting to meet hers again. “Is it comfortable?”

  “Comfortable enough.” Wish you were in it, lying on top of me. “No matter how comfortable the bed is, I usually have a hard time falling asleep when I’m on tour. I lie awake for hours tossing and turning, waiting for my brain to shut down.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Viggo commiserated. “I can relate. Post-performance adrenaline is no joke, is it?”

  “No, it’s not.” He gets it! We’re freakin’ perfect for each other! “So what about you? Adrenaline hangovers aside, do you enjoy sleeping in hotel beds?”

  “Not as much as I enjoy sleeping in my own.” The deep timbre of his voice stroked along her nerve endings and made her skin tingle deliciously.

  “I bet your bed is humongous,” she teased. “One of those California king-size beds that dominate an entire room.”

  “It’s pretty big,” he agreed, staring at her mouth. “Lots of room to spread out.”

  Her throat went dry at the thought of him spreading her out on his big bed, parting her thighs with his big hands and filling her with his big cock.

  As her temperature heated up, her laptop suddenly felt too warm on her bare legs. So she put it down on the bed and shifted to lay on her side with her head propped up in her hand.

  Viggo’s smoky eyes roamed down her body, sliding over the curve of her hip before homing in on the bare skin of her stomach.

  “Your belly button’s pierced,” he noted huskily. “How did I miss that when we were together?”

  “It was dark.” Scarlett grinned. “And you were more focused on my boobs.”

  His eyes gleamed. “Can you blame me? Your boobs are amazing.”

  She laughed. “I’m glad you enjoyed them.”

  “I did. I can’t wait to enjoy them some more.” His gaze returned to her pierced belly button. “That’s so fucking hot.”

  Heat pulsed between her thighs. “You like it?”


  “I do. Very—” He sucked air through his teeth as she began stroking the diamond stud in her navel. He leaned closer to the screen, looking transfixed.

  Watching his face, some wicked impulse made her purr, “I want your tongue right here.”

  “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp. “You want me to lick your belly button?”

  “Yes…for starters.”

  His throat moved with a hard swallow. “Where else? Show me.”

  Slowly she ran her fingertip up her chest to circle her nipple through the tank top. “Here.” She moved to the other nipple. “And here.”

  Viggo drank her in, the stark lust in his eyes tightening her breasts to the point of pain. “Where else?”

  With a seductive smile, she trailed her finger down her stomach to touch the V of her crotch. “Right here.”

  She heard him swear softly under his breath. His eyes had darkened to a smoldering shade of gray. It was all she could do not to slip her hand inside her boy shorts and stroke her throbbing clit. It needed some attention.

  “How do you want me to lick you, Scarlett?”

  The question caused moist heat to flood her crotch. “I—” She blushed and swallowed, the words sticking in her throat.

  Viggo’s expression was pure sin. “Do you like it soft and gentle? Do you like it slow? Or do you prefer it a little rough?” His voice was as dark and soft as black velvet. “I can use the edge of my teeth just to tease you a little, make you squirm against my mouth. Then I can stroke your lips with the flat of my tongue, slide them slowly apart to get to all that warm honey inside.”

  Scarlett must have whimpered because he chuckled softly. He had her pussy drooling without even laying a finger on her.

  “So tell me, Scarlett.” His voice dropped to a crooning purr. “How do you want me to lick you?”

  “Like that,” she breathed. “Just like that.”

  He laughed low in his throat.

  Holy hell. They were really Skype-sexing.

  “I wish you were here,” she whispered.

  “So do I, baby. There’s nothing I want more right now.”

  She bit her lip. “My vibrator’s gonna get such a workout tonight.”

  Lust flared in his eyes. “Can I watch?”

  “Can you watch what?”