The Swede

by Maureen Smith

  Tears welled up and spilled from Scarlett’s eyes.

  “Ah, hell,” Zander muttered thickly, taking a quick swipe at his watery eyes. “I’m gonna need all kinds of therapy after this emo sob-fest.”

  A quiet rumble of laughter moved through the group, bringing levity to the emotionally charged moment.

  Scarlett rubbed a knuckle under one eye and then the other. “I should have told you guys how Myles really felt. You had a right to know, and it would have given you a different perspective.”

  “Hell yeah, it would have,” Ryu agreed, dark eyes flashing.

  “He hurt you,” Gage growled. “That should have been enough for us. We should have kicked his fucking ass when he showed up. We let you down, Scarlett.”

  The others nodded, looking thoroughly repentant. “We’re really sorry about that.”

  Scarlett sighed. “Let’s just move on. Myles doesn’t deserve any more of our time or attention.”

  Traeger grunted. “He seems to think he does.”

  “Seriously.” Ryu scowled. “After he tried to catch you at the elevator that morning, he came crawling back to us with his tail between his legs. We went the fuck off on him. To his credit, he didn’t deny saying those things about us. But he tried to justify it by claiming we were young and inexperienced and rough around the edges—”

  “Which we were,” Scarlett conceded.

  “Maybe we were,” Ryu said. “But we went to Berklee, so we weren’t that inexperienced. Anyway, he didn’t even stick around long enough to help us grow as artists. He wrote us off as a lost cause and bailed like the fucking weasel he is.”

  “Exactly,” Gage added in disgust. “And now, of course, he’s singing a different tune. He said after watching our show, he could see how much we’d matured as performers and really come into our own. He pretty much told us to dump Cara and give him another chance.”

  “Are you serious?” Scarlett was outraged. “Please tell me you told him to go fuck himself.”

  “We did.” Zander smirked evilly. “That was hella satisfying.”

  “No kidding,” Traeger muttered darkly. “It would have been even more satisfying to bash his fucking skull in.”

  Gage shook his head at Scarlett. “He kept asking questions about you and Viggo. He wanted your number and actually expected us to give it to him. We told him to fuck off and stay away from you.”

  “Thank you.” Scarlett couldn’t believe the audacity of that rat bastard.

  “Just be careful,” Gage cautioned grimly. “He seems pretty determined to talk to you, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up in Denver.”

  Zander snorted. “And Viggo will send his ass home in a body bag.”

  “Fuck yeah,” the others said heatedly.

  That was Scarlett’s opening. “Speaking of Viggo…”

  The guys looked expectantly at her.

  “I told him about our funding dilemma, and he wants to help.” She went on to explain Viggo’s unbelievably generous proposal.

  When she finished speaking, her bandmates traded astonished looks and turned as one to stare at her. “He’d really do that for us?”

  “He would.” Scarlett smiled quietly. “He loves our music, and he truly believes in us.”

  “Wow.” It took a lot to render the guys speechless. They looked as flabbergasted as she’d felt when Viggo made his offer.

  “So…are we interested?” She already knew the answer, of course.

  “Damn right we’re interested!”

  “Okay then.” She grinned. “I’ll let him know.”

  Her bandmates whooped it up and celebrated with high fives and chest bumps.

  “Viggo is the man!” Zander declared with a wide, boyish grin. “I humbly apologize for every mean thing I’ve ever said about hockey.”

  “Yeah, you’d better,” Scarlett retorted.

  The guys laughed.

  Traeger looked around at everyone, a fierce gleam in his blue eyes. “We have to stay on our grind, fam. We have to keep working hard and pushing ourselves to get where we want to be. That’s the best way to show Myles that we don’t need him. That’s the best way to get our revenge.”

  “Fuck yeah!” the others fervently agreed. “Let’s do this!”

  When the call ended, Scarlett felt much better than she had in days.

  “What’d they say?”

  She glanced up from her laptop to see Viggo sauntering into the kitchen. His hair was damp from his shower and finger-combed away from his face. His feet were bare, and he had on a white cotton T-shirt and drawstring lounge pants that hung low on his hips. The thick bulge behind the crotch drew her gaze like a magnet to steel.

  “So are we in business?”

  Her eyes climbed all the way back up to his gorgeous face. Then she smiled. “The fellas were blown away by your generous offer.”

  “And?”

  “They gladly accept.”

  “Good.” Viggo smiled. “This calls for a celebration.”

  He went to the refrigerator, opened the wine storage unit and took out a bottle that he set on the countertop.

  When he turned away to retrieve two wineglasses from the cabinet, Scarlett stared at the bottle of Krug Clos du Mesnil Blanc de Blancs, circa 1996. She was no connoisseur, but she knew the champagne was pretty expensive.

  Viggo uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses, then handed her one.

  “Thank you kindly,” she purred, fluttering her lashes.

  He raised his glass to her. “To the new album, which is sure to be a masterpiece.”

  She beamed. “To the wonderful investor who’s making it happen.”

  His eyes glinted with warmth as he toasted, “Skål.”

  She laughed. “Skål!”

  They clinked glasses and drank the champagne.

  Lowering his drink from his mouth, Viggo said casually, “I do have one stipulation.”

  Scarlett lifted an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  “You’re not allowed to stay at the house with your bandmates. No sleepovers—no exceptions.”

  “What?” She frowned. “Why not?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “Which are?”

  He sighed. “You’re a beautiful woman and they’re guys. Not just guys—rock stars. I don’t want them getting any ideas.”

  “Seriously? I lived with them after college, and I still stay with them whenever we go on tour. Nothing’s ever happened.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I don’t want you spending the night at the house with them.”

  “You sound ridiculous,” Scarlett argued. “The boys are like brothers to me.”

  “And at least one of them is in love with you.”

  “Oh God, not this again,” Scarlett groaned, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “As I’ve already explained to Cara, Traeger does not have a thing for me.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Traeger.” Viggo narrowed his eyes. “Why does Cara think he has a thing for you?”

  “Because— Wait. Who were you talking about?” Before he could answer, she held up her hand. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t even want to hear your theory. It’s just gonna squick me out and make me feel awkward the next time I’m around the person.”

  Viggo frowned. “It’s not a theory. I’m a man. I know when another man has the hots for my woman. In this case, it’s so fucking obvious I can’t believe you’ve never figured it out.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out,” Scarlett said dismissively. “You’re way off base.”

  “Nah. You’re just clueless. Willfully, I might add.”

  “Whatever.”

  Viggo gave her a long look that indicated he wasn’t in the mood to argue.

  “Fine,” she relented with a huff. “I won’t have sleepovers with the guys.”

  “Thank you.” His eyes glinted at her.

  She set her glass down, then got up and walked around the center island. He watched her from under his lashes as she wrapp
ed her arms around his neck. She kissed him sweet and slow, pressing herself into his body as she savored his heat and strength.

  He murmured her name, his heart thumping against hers.

  Staring deep into his eyes, she whispered feelingly, “You’ve given me diamonds, and I know you can give me pearls. But as much as I appreciate all of your wonderful gifts, Viggo Sandström, I hope you know that the only thing I could ever want or need is right here in my arms.”

  * * *

  An hour later he had her moaning and arching with pleasure as he fucked her slowly from behind.

  One moment they’d been curled up together on the sofa watching A Bronx Tale. The next moment their clothes were off and they were on the floor, lying on their blanket with her back to his front and the thick column of his cock pressing into her folds.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, her hand fisting in the blanket as raw pleasure surged through her body, rocking her senses. “Viggo...oh God…”

  He gripped her thigh in his hand, holding her leg up as he thrust deep and slow between her buttocks. He filled every inch of her, stretching her deliciously wide. Her toes curled as the hard ridge of his cock rubbed her clit with every stroke, the friction so intense she thought she’d die of ecstasy.

  “Oh baby,” she moaned. “You feel so damn good.”

  He draped her leg over his waist and then reached around to squeeze her breasts, sending hot tingles through her as the blood rushed to her nipples.

  He hadn’t said a word so far, which made his possession of her body that much hotter.

  She looked over her shoulder at him, meeting his heavy-lidded gaze in the semidarkness. He leaned down and took her mouth, kissing her long and slow as his cock plunged in and out of her.

  Erotic shivers danced down her spine and curled around her sex. As his warm tongue explored her mouth, her body throbbed for release. “Viggo…”

  He grabbed her ass cheek and deepened his strokes, grinding her against him as he fucked her harder, his pelvis loudly slapping her buttocks. She felt her pussy tightening and let out a breathy cry as she orgasmed, her entire body shaking.

  Only then did he make a sound, groaning and jerking against her as he came, his semen spurting hot and thick into her.

  They lay there shuddering and gasping for breath as the light from the muted television flickered over their sweat-slick bodies.

  After a few minutes, Scarlett looked back at Viggo and purred teasingly, “If I had known you’d get so turned on by a coming-of-age mobster story, we would have watched A Bronx Tale a long time ago.”

  He chuckled softly, his lips nuzzling her shoulder. “The only thing that turns me on is you.”

  “Mmm.” She grinned, feeling his cock pulse inside her. “You’re insatiable.”

  “Your fault.” He moved so that she was flat on her back and he was levered over her, his hands on either side of her head.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and stared up at him, brushing his damp hair off his face.

  His eyes glittered into hers. “You’re in my blood.”

  “Good,” she whispered.

  Now just let me into your heart….

  Chapter 29

  Viggo

  Lose My Mind

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you bought them a house, Viggo!” Scarlett exclaimed, staring incredulously at him as he pulled up in front of a cozy three-story stucco home. “What happened to renting? That was the plan!”

  “I know, but I got the house below market value and it was a short sale. Seemed too good to pass up.” He shrugged. “It’s a tax write-off. No big deal.”

  “Are you kidding?” Scarlett sputtered. “Of course it’s a big deal! You bought a house, Viggo. A house! Do you realize what a major purchase that is? And the guys are only gonna be here a few weeks. A month, tops.”

  Viggo looked in the rearview mirror. “I don’t see them. Did they get lost?”

  “No. The van needs a new fuel pump, so it can only go but so fast. And it’s hard to keep up with you when you drive like you’re on the freaking Autobahn.”

  He grinned. “I love driving on the Autobahn. Have you ever—”

  “I have. It totally rocks. And don’t try to change the subject.”

  “I’m not.” He was. “Look, you heard what Traeger said over lunch. He said he’d been needing a change of scenery, and if he likes Denver enough, he’s gonna stick around and get a job as a bartender or a tattoo artist.”

  “He was joking.”

  “I don’t think so. I think he meant it. And I don’t think the others would be too opposed to relocating if you and Traeger are here. You’re a band, Scarlett. It makes sense for you guys to be in the same city. You can do some local gigs and rehearse more often, not just when it’s time to go on tour.”

  Scarlett stared out the window, her teeth catching her bottom lip. He hoped he was getting through to her. Damn his chatty Realtor for spilling the beans about him buying the house.

  “What if they decide not to stay?” Scarlett challenged, turning back to face him. “What if they pack up and leave after we finish the album? Then you’ll be stuck with an empty house and a mortgage.”

  “I paid cash for the house, so there’s no mortgage.” Viggo tapped the steering wheel. “If the guys go back to Boston, I can just use the house as a rental property or flip it. Either way, it’s money in my pocket.” His gaze flicked to the rearview mirror. “There they are.”

  Not giving Scarlett a chance to argue further, he hopped out of the truck and came around to open her door.

  She got out slowly, shaking her head at him. “We’ll finish this later.”

  He grinned. “Not if I can help it.”

  Together they stood watching as the band’s old black van chugged up the street. In true rock star fashion, it had black tinted windows and chrome rims. But they were smart enough not to have any flashy banners or stickers identifying themselves as a band, lest their expensive equipment get stolen.

  They’d left Boston three days ago and driven cross-country to Denver, arriving late last night. Bleary-eyed and road-weary, they’d made a big deal over Viggo’s penthouse, gaping in amazement at the views before exhaustion kicked in. They were still knocked out in their rooms when Viggo came home from practice with an armload of pizza boxes and beer. As they all sat around eating and drinking and laughing, he could see how happy it made Scarlett to bring her two worlds together. Her glowing smile reinforced his belief that buying the house for her bandmates had been the right call.

  As the van pulled up to the curb, Viggo motioned for Gage to park in the driveway. Then he dropped the house keys into Scarlett’s palm and smiled. “You can do the honors.”

  Her expression softened. “You’re really something, you know that? I can never repay you—”

  “No one’s asking you to.” He took her hand and led her up the front walk as her bandmates spilled out of the van and followed them to the door.

  “Nice house,” Traeger said appreciatively. “Helluva lot nicer than where we’re living now.”

  The others agreed.

  “Wait till you see inside.” Scarlett unlocked the door and stepped into the house. “Welcome to your new home away from home.”

  Viggo gestured for the guys to go ahead of him. They went inside, their eyes widening as they looked around the spacious foyer with hardwood floors leading into the living room.

  “Holy shit,” they exclaimed. “This is awesome!”

  Viggo and Scarlett grinned at each other.

  As the guys ventured beyond the foyer, Zander said excitedly, “You didn’t tell us the place was already furnished.”

  “The furniture came with the house,” Viggo said. “You can change whatever you want—”

  “Hell no! This shit is nice!”

  Scarlett grinned. “The basement’s huge. We have plenty of rehearsal space, and maybe part of it could be converted into a home studio.”

  “That sound
s good,” they enthused.

  Scarlett led them to the updated kitchen, opening the refrigerator to show them the contents. “Viggo and I went shopping yesterday and stocked up on food and booze.”

  “Hell yeah!”

  When Traeger reached for a cold brew, she slapped his hand away and gave him a stern look. “You had three beers with lunch. I think that’s enough for now.”

  He grinned. “Yes, Mother.”

  Everyone laughed.

  As they left the kitchen, Scarlett continued, “There are four bedrooms upstairs. We replaced all the kid furniture with adult beds and dressers. You guys will have to decide who gets the master—”

  They took off running toward the staircase, shoving and jostling to be first to claim the biggest room.

  Scarlett grinned after them. “I feel like such a parent right now.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and called out jokingly, “No running in the house, boys!”

  “Okay, Mom!” they called back, bounding up the stairs.

  She laughed, shaking her head at Viggo.

  He was staring at her, his mind suddenly flooded with an image of them with their own four children. Two boys and two girls. One or more of them would probably have gray eyes and blond hair because the Sandström genes were so dominant. And the boys would probably look like him. Tall for their age, sturdy and strong. The girls would be just as beautiful as their mother, inheriting her dark doe eyes and plush lips. He could see them skipping through the house together, curly ringlets bouncing, sweet voices singing a nursery rhyme. At least one of them would hopefully be blessed with their mom’s golden pipes.

  In his mind’s eye, he could see him and Scarlett smiling affectionately at their children as they followed them outside to a deck overlooking the sea. They were vacationing at their summer cottage somewhere in the Stockholm archipelago. As they stood close together watching their kids play on the lawn, Scarlett took his hand and put it over her swollen belly. She was pregnant again because he couldn’t keep his hands off her, and he loved watching her grow large with his child.