The Swede

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The Swede Page 58

by Maureen Smith


  “Hello.” Her voice was as cold as an arctic blast.

  “Hey.” He sounded a little nervous, for the very first time. “How are you?”

  “I’m kinda in the middle of something. What do you want?”

  There was a long pause. After shunning her for weeks, had he actually expected a warmer reception?

  “I just got back from Los Angeles and was wondering if I could come over so we can talk.”

  She steeled her emotions. “Oh, now you want to talk?”

  He let out a frustrated breath. “Scarlett—”

  “I think we should see other people. Oh, wait, you’re already doing that, aren’t you?” She smirked. “Hope you enjoyed your night at the Ritz.”

  She stabbed the end button and shoved the phone into the front pocket of her hoodie. Heart hammering, she took one step toward the door before clapping her hand over her mouth to choke back a sob.

  No. No, no, no. Fuck this. Enough is enough.

  She would not shed another damn tear over Viggo Sandström. It was time to take her own advice and move the hell on.

  She resolutely swiped the moisture from her eyes and sniffled. Then she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and marched back outside.

  She didn’t have time for heartbreak. She had some celebrating to do.

  * * *

  “I’m open! pass me the rock!”

  Traeger rolled out of the pocket and lobbed a perfect pass to Scarlett. She caught the football, tucked it under her arm and took off running across the yard as Gage sprinted after her. Just as she crossed into the end zone, he tackled her from behind.

  They fell to the ground, Gage landing on top of her as Traeger called out triumphantly, “Touchdown!”

  Scarlett let out a loud whoop as Gage protested, “No way! She didn’t get in!”

  “Yes, I did! Don’t even try it!”

  “Scar, look where I tackled you!” Gage pointed toward the oak tree they were using as the end-zone marker. “You’re half a yard short!”

  “Are you crazy? You need glasses—”

  “Uh, guys.”

  The sound of Ryu’s voice brought their heads around.

  Scarlett froze when she saw Viggo standing on the patio. His hair was tousled, like he’d been running agitated fingers through it. His blue dress shirt was untucked over his suit pants, the sleeves rolled up on his forearms.

  He was glaring at her and Gage with a dark, forbidding expression.

  Gage looked down at her with a slight frown, then slowly climbed off her and helped her to her feet.

  She brushed grass and dirt off her hoodie while watching Viggo stalk toward her. His eyes were fixed on her with predatory focus. Even from a distance, she could feel his body vibrating with a leashed fury that made her insides quiver with fear and excitement. It was like staring down an oncoming freight train. She felt rooted to the ground, unable to hurl herself out of harm’s way.

  By the time he reached her, she was practically quaking in her Chucks. “Viggo—”

  He shoved his hands into her hair, holding her in place as his hungry mouth crashed onto hers. Her body went up in flames and her legs threatened to buckle. But somehow she managed to recover some shred of defiance and bite his lip.

  Growling low in his throat, he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Outraged, she pounded her fists against his back as he began striding from the yard.

  Her bandmates surged forward protectively, blocking his path. “Yo, dude, hold up—”

  Viggo gave them a death glare. “Stay out of this.”

  The boys, to their credit, didn’t back down.

  “Put her down, asshole,” they ordered, forming a circle around Viggo. Unfortunately, they looked like dwarves trying to take down a giant. They were tall but Viggo still towered over them—bigger, stronger and dangerously pissed off.

  When Zander took a swing at him, Viggo easily deflected the blow, then grabbed Zander by his shirtfront and snarled into his face, “Back the fuck off.”

  As the others began shoving and shouting at Viggo, Scarlett stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled sharply.

  “Guys, it’s okay!”

  “The hell it is!” they protested.

  “No, seriously, I can handle him.”

  They eyed her skeptically, flung over Viggo’s shoulder like a sack of flour.

  Humiliated and furious at being manhandled, she glared at Viggo over her shoulder. “You can put me down now.”

  Ignoring her demand, he shoved the guys out of his way like gnats and proceeded to carry her across the yard and around the side of the house to reach the driveway. His sleek black Lamborghini was parked behind her car.

  When he pressed the key fob, the doors lifted vertically. He carried her to the passenger side and deposited her onto the custom leather seat. Then he squatted beside her, grabbed her chin and growled, “Don’t ever leave me again.”

  His voice was so low and vulnerable that she froze. As she stared into his haunted eyes, some of her anger subsided—for about two seconds.

  “You left me, remember?”

  “You moved out. No one fucking told you to do that.” He buckled her seatbelt like she was a child, then slammed the door and stalked around to the driver’s side. When the engine fired to life with a killer purr, she rolled her eyes. Damn him and his super sports car.

  As he roared away from the house and rocketed off down the street, she hated that her breath quickened and her toes curled with a rush of excitement.

  Scowling at the ultracool digital dashboard display, she grumbled, “Where’s the truck?”

  “In the shop,” he grumbled back.

  She mutinously crossed her arms over her chest and stewed in the luxurious leather seat. He drove like a maniac, speeding through lights and taking sharp turns and shortcuts down side streets.

  She wondered if he was trying to scare her. If so, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing fear by asking him to slow down. Besides, his rage driving totally turned her on. How twisted was that?

  She watched him rake his hand through his hair, disheveling the blond strands even more as he ripped his speed machine through another yellow light.

  “I need to get back to the house,” she bit out. “We’re having a party tonight and—”

  “I’m not letting you go until we’ve talked things out, and I don’t fucking care how long it takes.”

  The iron resolve in his tone had her heart roaring harder.

  He downshifted and coasted through a curve, the custom tires burning rubber against the asphalt.

  “Where are you taking me?” she demanded.

  “Home. Where you belong.” He shot her a thunderous glare. “Who the fuck told you about my date?”

  “Who do you think?” she hissed.

  He shook his head, lip curled in scorn. “Still letting her get in your head, I see.”

  “Fuck you! I saw the picture! I see you wasted no damn time—”

  “It was just Elsa, goddammit!”

  She gaped at him. “Your old girlfriend Elsa? The same Elsa you swore you weren’t taking to dinner? That Elsa?”

  He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. “Nothing happened!”

  “Bullshit! You went up to her room!”

  “Jesus!” He jammed his hand through his hair, his fingers clenching on the disheveled strands like he wanted to yank them out of his scalp. “What didn’t that vindictive bitch tell you? Did she also tell you what I ordered? How long it took me to eat? Did she tell you if I picked food out of my fucking teeth?”

  “She told me what mattered!”

  “I didn’t fuck Elsa! That’s what matters!”

  “Then why the hell did you go up to her room?”

  “I didn’t make it that far!” he yelled. “I couldn’t even get off the fucking elevator!”

  “Likely story,” Scarlett jeered.

  “It’s not a damn story. It’s the truth.” He cut the wheel to
make a hard right. “I couldn’t go through with it.”

  “Even if that’s true,” she countered bitterly, “the point is that you were ready to sleep with another woman barely two weeks after we broke up. I can’t even look at another guy without seeing your stupid ass face! But you know what? They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, so—”

  “Don’t.” The word was a bone-chilling snarl. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Fuck you, Viggo! You think you can just come waltzing back into—”

  “Jävlar!” He unleashed a string of Swedish expletives that left her ears ringing as he shifted and accelerated, cutting across three lanes of traffic.

  Heart pounding like crazy, Scarlett glared at him. “If you’re gonna curse me out, at least have the courtesy—”

  “Stop talking, Scarlett.” He shot her a deadly look. “Stop. Fucking. Talking.”

  She huffed and turned away to glare furiously out the window.

  When they arrived at his place, he slammed out of the Lamborghini and stalked around to the passenger side.

  Scarlett stared straight ahead, refusing to get out.

  With a feral snarl he reached inside, released her seatbelt and plucked her out of the bucket seat. Then he threw her over his shoulder again and carried her kicking and swearing across the garage, down the hallway and into his penthouse.

  The second he closed the door and put her down, she slapped him across the face as hard as she could.

  Growling savagely, he grabbed both of her wrists and pushed her back against the entry wall with his big body.

  “You son of a bitch!” she screeched as he pinned her hands above her head with one hand and let his other hand slide over the curve of her hip. “You have no damn r—”

  He bent his head and crushed his mouth to hers with a searing roughness that demanded her total submission.

  She gave it to him, helpless to do anything else. He tasted so fucking good and intoxicating that if he were a bottle of wine, she would already be completely wasted.

  The heavy pressure of his erection against her belly had wet heat gushing from her pussy to soak her underwear. She wrapped her leg around his hip and rode his thigh, making him groan. His huge hand grabbed her ass and lifted her right onto the mammoth bulge in his pants.

  She gasped and rocked her hips forward, grinding on him as his hot tongue speared her mouth in a blistering kiss. She shook with need as he dry-humped her against the wall, dragging his cock along her slit and hitting a spot that made her eyes roll back in her head.

  “Viggo…” she couldn’t help moaning against his mouth.

  He broke their kiss and gripped the hem of her hoodie with one hand, tugging it over her head and up her arms before throwing it somewhere behind him. When she arched off the wall he recaptured her wrists, keeping them bound above her head while his other hand unhooked the front clasp of her strapless bra and let it fall away.

  Her breath stalled as he stared down at her naked breasts. Her nipples were thrusting brazenly toward him as if to let him know how much they’d missed him. He must have had the same thought because an infuriating little smirk tugged at his lips before he palmed her breast, reveling in the full weight of it as she shivered from head to toe.

  Lowering his head, he wrapped his lips around her diamond-hard nipple, making her groan. He deepened the suction, sucking her with long, strong pulls that had her womb clenching and her knees almost buckling.

  As she whimpered and squirmed against him, he released her nipple and slammed his mouth back down on hers, thrusting his tongue between her lips. He kissed her with a ravenous need that left her breathless and arching against him, trying to climb into his very skin. She was furious with him but oh God, she still wanted the man like nothing she’d ever wanted before.

  He ripped his mouth from hers, breath rasping out.

  She stared up at him, her breasts heaving as he freed her wrists from the wall. Her hands fell upon his shoulders when he dropped to his haunches and yanked off her sneakers and socks. Then he grabbed the waistband of her leggings, pulling them down and with them her sodden panties.

  He tossed them aside, his gaze riveted to her recently waxed mound. When he bent toward her, she put her hand on his head to stop him.

  “No.” Her voice was sharp. “You haven’t earned back that privilege.”

  His eyes glowed up at her like molten silver. “You’re right. I need to get inside you first.”

  Her heart went topsy-turvy as he surged to his feet, tearing open his zipper and shoving his pants and briefs down to his thighs. His cock jutted out from under his shirttails, huge and hard.

  She let out a hungry whimper, the tip of her tongue wetting her bottom lip.

  A low growl rumbled in his throat before he grabbed her hips and lifted her, holding her against the wall with the weight of his body. She wrapped her legs around him as he gripped his massive cock and positioned himself at her slick opening, easing just the head inside.

  She wanted him so bad she was ready to beg, and that pissed her off even more. “I’m so fucking done with you,” she panted.

  “No, you aren’t. Not even close.” He slid in another few inches and then paused to stare into her eyes, letting her know who was in charge. Who was in control. It was a look that told her he was going to fuck her good and hard. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “What’re you waiting for?” she rasped, flexing her muscles around him. “I don’t have all damn—”

  “Don’t ever leave me again,” he breathed dangerously, close to the edge. “And don’t even think about going near any other man.”

  She managed to glower at him. “You can’t—”

  He thrust his hips, driving his length deep into her core.

  She screamed his name, squeezing her eyes shut as raw pleasure slammed into her and snatched the breath from her lungs.

  “Open your eyes,” he commanded darkly. “I want you to look at me when I fuck you.”

  She made a pitiful whimpering noise, but did as he told her.

  “Du är min,” he growled and began rocking into her.

  She threw back her head with a sob of pleasure, her nails raking his back through his shirt. He shuddered against her, a primal groan rumbling out of his chest.

  Scooping his hands under the curve of her ass, he pounded into her with relentless strokes that shook the wall and probably the roof.

  She clung to him, crossing her ankles above his fiercely clenching ass cheeks. Her pulse jackhammered with every bounce of her breasts, every thud of her back against the wall, every slam of his hips that made her cry out in ecstasy. The scent of sex and fury, desperation and need rose between them like pheromones, intoxicating her senses. He was as rough and ruthless as she’d expected. And it was absolutely perfect, just what they’d both needed.

  Staring possessively into her eyes, he eased one of his hands between their bodies and stroked her clit in time with his ferocious thrusts. It felt so good she moaned loudly and lustfully.

  “That’s right,” he growled in feral satisfaction. “Don’t fucking tell me you’re done with me. We’re just getting started.”

  “I thought you were mad at me,” she managed to choke out. “Why the hell did you come back?”

  “Because I can’t live without you.” His eyes blazed into hers, scorching her body and branding her soul. “I love you, Scarlett.”

  Her heart soared, tears rushing into her eyes. “Oh God…”

  “I. Fucking. Love. You.” He punctuated each word with a thrust of his hips. “Do you understand? I don’t want anyone else. You’re it for me. Now and forever.”

  “I love you, too,” she cried, reeling with euphoria. “I always have.”

  He kissed her fiercely as he drove harder into her, delivering more power with every stroke. She came violently, crying out against his mouth in ecstatic release.

  He let out a rough sob as he exploded, pumping jets of se
men deep inside her. He shuddered and groaned through the entire orgasm, slapping the wall with his hand as he poured everything he had into the spasming depths of her body.

  Long moments later, he buried his face in the hollow of her neck, their hearts thundering together as her breasts clung to his sweat-dampened shirt.

  Her eyes were closed, a dreamy smile curving her lips. She was so happy she thought she might float away.

  “Ah, Scarlett.” Viggo whispered her name like the most reverent prayer. “Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett. Min själ.”

  She pressed a kiss to his hair and rubbed her face against the soft strands. When he exhaled long and slow, the bristles on his jaw tickled her skin and made her giggle.

  Slowly he lifted his head, brushing her hair off her face as he murmured, “What’s so funny?”

  She dragged her eyes open to give him a lazy smile. “I missed you.”

  He gave her a look so indescribably tender that her ovaries ached. “I’m never letting you go,” he said with quiet fervency. “Never again.”

  She cradled his face in her palm. “I’m holding you to that.”

  * * *

  An hour later, they snuggled together in bed with her head resting against his chest, his arm wrapped securely around her waist, their hands and legs entwined. It was pure bliss.

  “What was that thing you called me?” she whispered.

  “What thing?” Viggo’s voice was lazy, a contented murmur.

  “It sounded a little like ‘mean well.’”

  “Min själ.” He was smiling. “It means ‘my soul.’”

  Everything inside her turned to mush. God, she loved this man.

  “What time is the party?” His voice flowed over her like warm molasses.

  “It starts at seven. But I should get back soon to help the guys finish setting up.”

  His lips nuzzled her hair. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Awesome.” She grinned like an idiot. “We’re stringing fairy lights on the trees, and my job’s letting us borrow the karaoke equipment.”

  A chuckle rumbled in Viggo’s chest. “Karaoke with Off The Grid. Sounds like fun.”

  Her grin widened. “I expect you to get up there and rock the hell out. Same goes for Reid, Logan and Hunter.”

 

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