The Swede

by Maureen Smith

  She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, tucking it into the same murky corner as her questions about Audrey.

  Viggo lived on the edge of downtown in an exclusive residential building renowned for its high-priced penthouses and sky garage.

  Scarlett lifted her head from his shoulder when he passed through the security gate and entered the underground parking garage. He drove past a row of luxury vehicles before turning a corner to reach what appeared to be a freight elevator with futuristic-looking doors. They opened from the top and bottom when he touched a button on the truck’s steering wheel.

  As he pulled inside the huge mirrored elevator, Scarlett breathed, “Holy crap. When did we get transported to The Jetsons?”

  Viggo chuckled, pressing another button to close the doors. The freight-style elevator whisked them all the way up to the top floor of the building. The ascent was so quick and smooth, Scarlett was left a little breathless.

  When the doors opened, Viggo drove out of the elevator and pulled up to a private carport marked with his penthouse number. He parked between two other vehicles—a shiny black Lamborghini and a Bugatti Veyron. The sight of his elusive sports cars brought a big grin to Scarlett’s face.

  “Hmm,” she mused, tapping her finger against her lip. “I wonder who these bad boys belong to?”

  Viggo blinked innocently. “I have no idea.”

  She laughed as he got out and grabbed her bag from the back, then came around to help her down from the truck. He shifted her into the circle of his left arm, pulling her close as he guided her across the garage. She’d never been inside a garage that had vaulted ceilings and terracotta floors. She didn’t even want to know how much Viggo paid for the privilege and convenience of parking right outside his penthouse.

  He keyed in an access code to unlock the outer entrance. Then he ushered her down a hallway with stark white walls and black marble floors. At the end of the hall, he entered another code into the panel beside his front door and then opened it, motioning for Scarlett to precede him inside.

  She crossed the threshold and stopped, her jaw dropping as she looked around the stunning two-story penthouse. Nadia definitely hadn’t exaggerated about the “wow” factor.

  The living room alone was bigger than most people’s apartments. It boasted gleaming hardwood floors, a sleek fireplace, beautiful artwork, and plush gathering sofas and chairs. The décor was clean and casual, very Swedish chic.

  To the right of the foyer was an open kitchen with glistening black marble counters, stainless steel appliances and high-end fixtures. To the left was a curved glass staircase that connected the penthouse’s two floors. It looked like something out of an upscale art gallery.

  But what really stole Scarlett’s breath were the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed a spectacular view of downtown and the distant mountain range.

  “Oh. My. God.” Stunned into near speechlessness, she started forward and then stopped, remembering to take off her boots. She knew it was customary to remove your shoes when entering a Swede’s home, plus she didn’t want to scuff Viggo’s pristine hardwood floors or track in any mud.

  He chuckled behind her. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Uh-huh! My mama raised me right,” she chirped as she skipped off toward the wall of windows.

  She could feel Viggo staring after her before he set her bag down and headed toward the kitchen. “Want something to drink?” There was a husky catch to his voice. “How about some wine?”

  “Yes, please.” Scarlett stared at the glittering city lights spread out in a panorama that seemed to stretch into infinity. “Wow. We could have gone stargazing right here.”

  Viggo’s chuckle drifted across the penthouse. “I didn’t want to scare you off by bringing you back to my place before our first official date.”

  “Are you kidding? After seeing this view, I might have dropped to one knee and proposed!”

  He laughed, uncorking a bottle of wine.

  There was a wraparound terrace with an outdoor kitchen and dining area. Sleek patio furniture was grouped around a TV and gas fireplace built inside a stone wall. Scarlett could see her and Viggo snuggling around the fire and sipping hot chocolate under a blanket of twinkling stars. She could see them cozied up together, lazy and barefoot on a warm summer night, watching the sun set over the mountains. She could see them entertaining family and friends, grilling steaks and drinking beer while music played and laughter abounded.

  As she stood at the window admiring the view and fantasizing, she felt him come up behind her. When his reflection joined hers, she turned and accepted the glass of wine. Their eyes met as their fingers brushed, electricity sparking.

  He’d shed his jacket and tie and unfastened the top three buttons of his hand-tailored dress shirt. His hair had dried with a slight wave to it, falling loosely over his forehead and ears. He was such a beautiful man. Just looking at him made her weak in the knees.

  She smiled, lifting her glass in a toast. “To a thoroughly satisfying victory over your division rival.”

  His eyes glinted for a moment before he raised his glass and murmured, “To having you home with me, even if only for one night.”

  His words sent a shiver through her, warmth curling around her heart.

  Eyes locked, they tapped glasses and drank slowly.

  Scarlett moved closer to him, smiling under her lashes. “I wish I could go to Arizona with you tomorrow. Think you can smuggle me onto the team plane?”

  His lips twitched. “Don’t give me any ideas. You know I’m always one step away from kidnapping you.”

  She laughed softly. “What is it with you trying to abduct me?”

  “I told you. I’m addicted.”

  Smiling demurely, she turned back to the window and gazed outside. “A view like this can make you feel like the whole city is yours.”

  “Sometimes.” His hand slid down to that really sensitive spot at the base of her spine. Or maybe it was just his touch that made it supersensitive.

  She sipped her wine, trying not to shiver as his thumb rubbed the small of her back in slow, lazy circles that turned her insides to jelly. “Is this one of those exclusive properties where nothing can be built in front of it?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled, watching her. “That’s one of the reasons I chose this place.”

  “Awesome,” she said warmly. “It would be criminal to block this view.”

  “I agree.” He downed the rest of his wine in one swallow.

  She drank hers more slowly, savoring the flavor. It was delicious, and probably very expensive.

  Viggo reached out and fingered a lock of her hair, his eyes roaming possessively up and down her body. “I love seeing you in my jersey.”

  She smiled. “And I love wearing it. Even though it’s huge on me.”

  “This is a good solution.” His hand moved down to touch her exposed midriff, setting off goosebumps. “You look sexy as hell.”

  She grinned, batting her lashes at him. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “You knew I would.”

  She winked and finished her wine.

  As she lowered her glass from her mouth, Viggo gently pressed his thumb to the center of her lower lip, his lids heavy. “Want more?”

  “More what?” she whispered.

  “Wine.”

  She shook her head and watched him lick his thumb, tasting the residue of wine from her lip. She swallowed hard, wondering how such a simple thing could be so unbelievably erotic.

  He took their empty glasses and set them on a low glass table nearby. Then he came back to her, bringing their bodies so close they were almost touching. Her skin tingled as a tremor slid down the length of her spine. Slowly he lowered his head, his breath warm against her mouth. She stared into his glittering eyes, waiting for him to kiss her like it was the very first time.

  When his lips finally connected with hers, a full-body shiver rocked her. He made a rumbling sound in his throat and sli
d his hands down to her ass, pulling her tight against him. He was already hard and thick, his huge erection digging into her belly.

  She moaned softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. His tongue slicked over her lips before diving between them. As he sucked on her tongue, her breasts grew heavy and the flesh between her legs grew hot and damp.

  Remembering his manners, Viggo whispered between kisses, “Are you hungry?”

  “For you.” She tugged his shirt free from his pants. “Only for you.”

  He groaned and deepened the kiss, his hands gripping her bottom as his big thigh thrust up against her pussy. She whimpered and rode his leg, grinding on him until he shuddered and pressed her back against the window.

  Her pulse pounded as he dropped to a crouch before her, the expensive fabric of his suit pants pulling taut across his muscular thighs. He looked up at her face as he unsnapped her fly and dragged her tight jeans down her legs. She trembled when he stroked her bare skin, his callused palms moving back up her thighs to get her panties.

  They stared into each other’s eyes as he peeled the wisp of lace off her body. The slow removal was so hot, so unbearably erotic, she could barely breathe.

  Her legs wobbled as she stepped out of her jeans and undies and kicked them aside. Viggo gave her a hungry, primal smile that turned her blood into lava. Then he reached between her thighs, groaning when he found her creamy and wet.

  Her head fell back against the window when he slipped two fingers inside her, stroking and caressing her pussy until her limp knees almost gave out. He watched her face intently as he pulled out of her and sucked off the juices coating his fingers.

  “Oh God,” she whispered, her hips churning with need. “Please…”

  He lifted her right leg over his shoulder, spreading her open to the scorching heat of his mouth. When he pressed his tongue against her throbbing cleft, she let out a throaty moan that would make a porn star blush.

  He kissed and nuzzled her clit, then licked the hard knot of aching nerves. The blistering pleasure had her grabbing fistfuls of his hair and dragging him closer.

  He cupped her ass cheek in one hand while he sucked the hood of her clit, drawing a rush of wetness from the mouth of her pussy.

  “Oh—God.” She rocked her hips, riding his face as he lapped at her cream. He was trying to kill her, she was sure of it. “Viggo…”

  “So sweet,” he rasped thickly. “You’re so fucking delicious, Scarlett.”

  She could only take a few sizzling lashes of his tongue before she came with a keening cry that echoed around the penthouse. Viggo groaned as she spilled hotly into his mouth, his tongue working furiously to soak up every drop.

  She was still gasping and shivering when he surged powerfully to his feet, lifting her off the window and into his arms. He swung around and carried her to the kitchen, setting her down on the huge center island. Her body was burning up, so she welcomed the coolness of the marble against her bare ass.

  As Viggo unbuckled his belt, she grabbed both sides of his dress shirt and ripped it open. Pearl buttons flew in all directions. He gave her a little smile, a sexy curving of his lips that tightened her nipples as she helped him shrug off his shirt.

  When she started to remove the jersey she wore, he stopped her.

  “Leave it on,” he said roughly. “I want you wearing my name while I’m deep inside you.”

  Holy hell!

  He tore off his undershirt, muscles rippling in his powerful chest. She had to touch him, had to stroke those thick pecs and rock-hard abs. She felt him shiver, saw his pupils darken and dilate with lust. Breathless and mesmerized, she watched him lower his zipper, then shove his pants and boxer briefs down his legs. As he straightened, his cock bobbed against his stomach. The broad head glistened wetly from a steady stream of precum.

  Scarlett stared, licking her lips. “God, that’s sexy.”

  He bent and kissed her, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. “I should put on a—”

  “Next time,” she breathed, her arousal at fever pitch. “I need you now.”

  With a low groan, he grabbed her hips, sliding her forward until their pelvises met. When she wrapped her legs around him, he palmed her ass cheeks and lowered her right onto his hot, hard cock.

  She cried out, her back arching in ecstasy.

  “Fuck.” His eyes closed briefly as his erection swelled and throbbed inside her. “God, what you do to me, Scarlett.”

  “That goes both ways,” she managed to gasp.

  His hands tightened on her buttocks as he braced his long legs apart. Then he began moving in and out of her, thrusting slowly when he obviously wanted to set a more demanding pace. His controlled restraint drove her even wilder.

  She clutched his back for support, digging her fingers into the hard slab of muscle.

  He shuddered and clenched his jaw, watching her face as he stroked deeply between her legs. He was so big. So hot and thick. The rawness of his cock plunging through her creamy folds felt so good she thought she would die.

  She ran her hands down the hard swell of his ass, gripping him tight as he rocked their bodies together. “Viggo,” she mewled helplessly. “Oh yes, baby. Yes, yes, yesss…!”

  Cupping the back of her head with one hand, he lined openmouthed kisses up her neck, along her jaw and over her earlobe.

  She shivered with pleasure, wrapping her legs higher around his waist. He fucked her deeper and harder, holding her gaze with his, letting her see just what she did to him.

  The feverish slap of their bodies, his harsh breaths and her desperate moans created a symphony of sound that flooded the penthouse like their own erotic soundtrack.

  Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back as he slammed into her, his hard abs slapping her stomach with each stroke.

  Every cell and nerve ending in her body was alive, singing with pleasure. “Oh shit…so good…right there, baby…right there...”

  With her throat exposed, Viggo leaned down, still thrusting, and bit into the side of her neck.

  She sobbed in wild ecstasy and shattered apart, screaming his name over and over.

  “Ah God, Scarlett.” Gripping her ass cheeks, he held her tight to him and powered into her with feral urgency until he came with an animal groan. The heat of his semen shooting into her sent more spasms to her core. She moaned at the sensation, scraping her teeth against his shoulder before she sagged against him.

  His arms went around her back, holding her up as he panted raggedly into her hair. She closed her eyes, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her legs going limp around his waist.

  They remained that way for a long time, their hearts crashing against each other’s chests. Scarlett was damp with sweat under the jersey, and her ass was stuck like glue to the marble countertop.

  Viggo was the first to move, pressing a kiss into her hair and murmuring, “Are you sure I can’t kidnap you?”

  She let out a hoarse little laugh. “I’m seriously reconsidering.”

  His lips curved against her temple as he untied the knotted jersey. “Guess I should give you a tour of the place, huh?”

  “Mmm.” She lifted her head to give him a lazy smile. “A tour would be nice. How big is this joint?”

  “It’s a good size,” he murmured, nipping at the corner of her mouth.

  “What’s a good size?”

  His hands moved under the loosened jersey and cupped her breasts, making her quiver against him. “Five thousand square feet.”

  “Wow,” she breathed. “It’s huge. How many bedrooms?”

  “Four bedrooms. Three baths.” Eyes fixed on hers, he tweaked her nipples through the lace of her bra.

  She gasped and arched back, feeling his cock thicken inside her. “You have such a big…place.” The words shivered out of her. “So many rooms to explore.”

  “And christen.” He pulled the jersey over her head and swooped down, using his teeth to tug her bra cup down so he could bite her elongated nipple.
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  She cried out, throwing back her head and wrapping a leg around his hip to hold him against her. As he licked and sucked her nipple, she shoved her hands into his hair and panted, “Show me your bedroom.”

  He made a growling sound of approval, scooped her off the counter and carried her upstairs for the next steamy round.

  * * *

  Afterward he lay on his stomach with his head resting on his folded arms while she straddled his back, giving him a massage.

  The enormous master bedroom was lit by moonlight beaming through the wall of windows. Music played softly in the background, “Hands to Heaven” by Breathe.

  Viggo groaned as Scarlett pressed her thumbs into his shoulders, kneading the muscles. Their lovemaking had left him relaxed and pliant, but she still found a few knots to smooth out. He also had a darkening bruise on his left side, courtesy of a brutal body check delivered by a Chicago defenseman.

  “Ouch,” she murmured. “Does that hurt?”

  His breathing was deep and steady. “What?”

  “This.” She gently touched the bruise. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not yet.” His tone was wry. “Ask me again in the morning.”

  She chuckled sympathetically. “Poor baby.”

  “Nah,” he drawled. “No pain, no gain.”

  She grinned. “Such a badass.”

  She felt the deep rumble of his chuckle between her thighs. It made her shiver as her fingers stroked, rubbed and kneaded his deltoids. She loved how he felt under her hands, loved the rough and smooth of his skin.

  She worked her way down his spine, pressing the heels of her hands into his back. As his muscles rolled under her touch, he let out another rumbling groan of satisfaction.

  “Damn, baby, that feels good. Where’d you learn to give massages?”

  “Nowhere. I’m just talented like that.” She leaned close and whispered in his ear, “And touching you comes naturally to me.”

  He shivered. “God, I’m a lucky man.”

  She grinned and nipped his earlobe. “Maybe we can make this our postgame ritual. Sex, massage, dinner. Or dinner, massage and then sex. You know, because the happy ending is supposed to come last.”