Stockholm Diaries, Melanie

by Rebecca Hunter

  She let out a long breath. Then the corners of her mouth curved up just a little: On the plus side, at least she was no longer cold.

  Chapter 11

  “Something feels wrong,” said Mel. “Can you read that last sentence again?”

  Henrik nodded.

  “‘Even though she’s so close, I can’t go to her. Not yet.’”

  Mel stared at her father’s careful script, as if that would help.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” she said. “My mother has never been to Sweden. I guess he could be speaking more figuratively about being close, but I don’t think she’s even talked to him since he left…”

  Her voice faded out. Henrik was staring at the page in front of him, but he said nothing.

  “Are you sure about that translation?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” he said flatly. “And that’s not the first time he’s said something like that.”

  His tone cut into her. It shouldn’t, she told herself, but it did. What Henrik had said to her on the dock was right—their kiss wasn’t a good idea, let alone any of the other things she had wanted to do. But as distracting as his presence had been before, the kiss made it worse.

  Though Henrik had dutifully shown up to work the next day, there was something distant in the way he didn’t quite meet her eyes when they talked. On her walk with Alice, she had been too embarrassed by the rejection to bring it up.

  Even her lunches with Henrik were now limited to discussions about the book, punctuated by long silences. She was surprised when he wordlessly presented her milk, eggs, fruit and coffee one morning. Surprised because he didn’t seem to be paying attention to her at all.

  Which is why his short, flat response was all the more frustrating. He had abruptly put a stop to any hint of the comfortable ease in their relationship. Could he so easily turn off all of what he had felt that day on the dock? Then again, Henrik had all but admitted that he admired her father; why wouldn’t he take a page out of her father’s book on women, too?

  Henrik searched the table for another journal, and when he found what he was looking for, he opened it up to the end.

  “Here’s what he says: ‘I saw her in a café. It had to be her. The long hair…’ He goes on. But it sounds like he believes that it really could be—”

  Henrik’s voice cut off.

  “What is it?” he said softly.

  He must had seen something on her face, a glimpse of the emotions she was struggling with. Mel shook her head, not wanting to meet his eyes.

  “Let’s just keep going,” she said, steadying her voice.

  But he didn’t start reading again. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. Then he sighed and leaned forward again until he was close enough to touch her.

  “Melanie—” he said in a low, rumbling voice, but she cut him off.

  “I said let’s just keep reading,” she snapped.

  But Henrik didn’t move away. Instead, he did the last thing Mel expected: He put his hand on her leg. The shock of the connection startled them both, but he kept his hand there, stroking it gently with his thumb.

  “This is hard for me, too.”

  His voice was almost too quiet to hear, as if these words were thoughts, not speech. The heat from his hand was quickly spreading to the last place she wanted it to, sending signals that brought her body alive, telling her to either touch this man in front of her or flee.

  Mel pushed his hand away. Why was he doing this? Was he consoling her, trying to ease the rejection? His words only fueled her anger, but Mel fought to keep her voice under control.

  “It may be hard for you, but clearly not in the same way it’s hard for me.”

  Henrik closed his eyes. He was still leaning close to her, and his hands now clenched tightly together. He took a deep breath.

  “Melanie, right now I want so much to comfort you the only way I can think of. I want to hold you against me so tightly that you forget everything else. I want to hold you until the sadness I see on your face when I read goes away. But I won’t be able to stop there.”

  His knuckles were turning white, and for the first time Mel considered the possibility that the situation might truly be as hard for him as it was for her. Slowly, carefully, Mel raised her eyes and looked into his, sad and vulnerable. He was taking a risk, she realized, one that didn’t come easily to him.

  All at once, the frustration that, just moments before, had been about to erupt was gone, replaced by something much different. Mel took a deep breath.

  “Why do we have to stop there?” she whispered.

  Henrik let out a soft groan at her words. He shook his head.

  “Because I can’t take something like that lightly with you. The other day at the dock, I wanted you like—”

  He broke off. His face was lined with worry, as if he were weighing a decision, and neither of the outcomes looked good. Mel drew back. He was preparing to reject her again, let her down lightly but firmly—she knew it. And she didn’t want to hear it.

  Mel moved to stand up, to leave this situation that had already gone too far. But Henrik caught her arms, gently but firmly, and held her so she still faced him, only inches away.

  “Melanie, you’ve already seen how I need to have things my own way. It ended my marriage. You and I have to work together every day. If we—” he stopped, closing his eyes for a moment before he continued. “If something more happens between us, it’ll be harder to pull away. I can already feel it. And you’ll have to keep seeing me, every day, until the project is over.”

  His voice faded out, and his expression held a hint of the self-loathing she had seen on the top of the hill the other day. He seemed to struggle with something he was trying to express. Finally, he said, “I know I shouldn’t—I can’t be like this, but I also can’t change how I feel.”

  “So you hide yourself away on an island?” she asked softly.

  His eyes were dark and fiery.

  “So I hide myself away on an island, only to find you here,” he said. “And you feel like the most seductive torture I’ve ever experienced.”

  Mel wasn’t sure what to make of this declaration, but it didn’t sound wholly flattering.

  “Torture?” she asked.

  “Oh, Melanie,” he said, putting his hands on her arms and gently pulling her closer to him. “In the best possible way.”

  She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t say anything more. Instead, she felt his cheek against the top of her head and his warm, slow breaths. Mel sighed and closed her eyes, letting everything beyond her immediate senses fall away. What remained was the sound of the tree leaves brushing together, the bright sun, the salty air and Henrik’s body almost touching hers.

  Mel looked down at his hands, clamped around her arms. Even now, he was holding her in place, forcing their interaction to go the way he wanted it to. And she knew she should listen to all his warnings. She should back away from him now, while she still could.

  But she didn’t. Instead of making the sensible choice, Mel followed what her body was begging her to do. She lifted her hand and ran it through his salty hair, letting it rest behind his neck. He seemed surprised by this move, and his hand that had held her arm dropped to his side.

  Henrik’s eyes were closed again.

  “You can’t—” he started, but she cut him off.

  “Aren’t I half of this equation?” she said softly. “Is this only about you, or does what I want matter, too?”

  His eyes opened again, and he looked angry now.

  “I’ve told you the way I am. I’ll make you miserable,” he said. “And then this project… I won’t be able to forgive myself for it.”

  His words were slow and hard through clenched teeth, but Mel could feel his hand slowly move down her, caressing her gently.

  “Just being in this room, trying to ignore the fact that you’re sitting next to me—that�
��s making me miserable,” she said with a little laugh. “I’d like to make this decision, too.”

  “But it’s a bad one,” he whispered. Even as he said this, his hand found her thigh again, slowly moving, exploring higher, saying something much different than what came from his mouth.

  “I’m willing to take that risk.”

  And just as it had been on the dock, being this close, touching him, made all rational considerations hazy. Mel closed the last distance between them and brushed her lips against Henrik’s. He didn’t move, and she let her mouth rest on his for a moment, breathing in the relief she felt just to touch him again.

  But that wasn’t enough. This soft kiss seemed to spark the same desire he had unleashed the other day. They were too hungry for slow kisses. Henrik pulled her down onto him until she was on his lap in the chair, straddling him. He opened his mouth and took hers, searching, tempting. She grabbed his hair with one hand and fit the other around his waist, feeling his muscles tense and twitch as she touched him. But it still wasn’t enough. His body was hard and hot through his shirt, and she reached down to find the edge of the material, to lift it up and let her hand travel over his bare skin. Finally, her fingers met the hard muscles of his stomach, sending a raw pulse through his body and into hers.

  She felt Henrik stiffen under her touch, and he groaned low in her ear. Then he grabbed her hands and pulled them away.

  “Tell me to leave now.”

  His voice was tense. But if he was trying to push her away, the effect was just the opposite—his ragged breath only made her want him more. She tried to move her hands back to him, but Henrik’s grip was tight. He groaned again under her resistance.

  “Please,” he whispered into her ear, “if you don’t want this to go further, stop now.”

  Mel bent her head and softly kissed his neck. He tasted of salt and of the part of him that had lingered in her dreams after their last encounter.

  “I don’t want to stop,” she said into his warm skin, and she felt his body shudder under her kiss.

  He picked her up abruptly and headed out the office door, over to the daybed she had slept in since she had arrived. He set her down gently so they were standing against each other. He kissed her slowly, deeply, his hands trembling with want as she reached for him. My God. She felt him throb against her, and she let her hands travel down.

  “No,” he said roughly, moving her hands back up.

  She pulled away a little, but he held her firmly.

  “Sorry,” he chuckled softly. “But this won’t last very long if you do that.”

  “So you’re in charge?” she said, raising her eyebrows.

  “That’s right. At least this time. You can let me know if you have any complaints.”

  This was not a challenge; it was a promise, a promise that sent a pulse of desire through her. No one had ever spoken to her like this before.

  “I want to undress you,” he said, his voice growing rougher.

  As he said this, Mel felt his hands gently tug her shirt up. They glided over her breasts as he lifted the shirt over her head and let it drop to the ground. He slid her bra straps off her shoulders, one at a time, and they each fell, exposing the light skin underneath. Henrik’s breath rasped in her ear as his fingers slid down her chest, onto her sensitive nipples. The scrape of his fingertips shot pleasure through her body, and Mel heard herself moan.

  Henrik was watching her with hot, hungry eyes.

  “I can’t—” she gasped, struggling to string together her thoughts.

  He cut off her words with another kiss, hard and urgent, and Mel found herself clinging to the flexed muscles in his arms.

  “Please,” he said, his breath hot on her cheek. “Let me…”

  His voice trailed off, and he kneeled in front of her. He ran his hands over her hips and found the edge of her jeans. His fingers were slow, torturously slow, and they traced the waist of her jeans and released the button. His hands traveled under the material, coaxing it over her hips. Mel gasped as his hands brushed the insides of her legs before they traveled further down, bringing the jeans with them. He eased her down on the bed and knelt between her legs.

  She was exposed, mostly naked, legs spread and breasts spilling out of her bra. She bit her lip as Henrik’s gaze wandered over her, jaw tense. He was still fully clothed, still holding back. Her body trembled with need, and part of her brain screamed, resist. He wanted things his way, even now.

  But she didn’t resist. Another part of her, a part she was only beginning to understand, wanted to simply give in. Not forever, but just this once. Just to see how it felt. Just to see if kissing Henrik was any indication of what his body would feel like over hers, inside her.

  Henrik’s gaze lowered to her breasts as he slipped his hands underneath her bra to hold them in his hands, using his thumbs to gently tease her nipples. The movement sent tremors through her, and she leaned back on her arms to steady herself.

  “Melanie,” he groaned. “I thought if I kissed you on the dock that day, some of this want would go away. But it’s only gotten worse. I dream about you. I wake up in the morning hard and aching for you.”

  His words sent more ripples of pleasure through her. Maybe he wasn’t as good at shutting off his feelings as he seemed.

  He bent down and took one of her nipples in his mouth. His tongue slowly explored, licking, sucking, nipping until she cried out. Her arms shook under her weight, but she arched her back for more. His eyes widened, and he growled as he took her other nipple into his mouth, scraping his teeth against the sensitive tip. Oh, God.

  He was up on his feet again, towering over her. He shed his shirt in one, quick motion and then reached for the button where his jeans bulged. Mel licked her lips as she watched the last of his clothes fall to the floor. She let her gaze wander over his strong, rounded shoulders, down his broad chest and onto the tight muscles of his stomach. She traced the line of hair farther down and found what she already knew—he was ready, very ready. And he was very close.

  Mel lifted her gaze to meet his again, and she couldn’t look away. His gaze held something more than hunger and lust, but it was too much to contemplate in the haze of her own building need. He knelt down on the bed, one knee on each side of her, and he eased her further back onto the pillow. He rested on one arm over her, and his other hand came to the side of her face for a caress, unexpectedly gentle.

  “You can still say no,” he whispered, his eyes suddenly guarded.

  He was so serious that she had to smile.

  “Why would I want to do that?” she asked, reaching up to pull him closer.

  That was all it took. He leaned down and kissed her slowly, deeply, and she felt all the longing of the past weeks come together in that one, long, lovely kiss. The hard, warm muscles of his chest met hers, and he groaned. She tilted her hips up to meet him, and their sounds of pleasure mingled in the quiet cabin. He parted her knees with his, pushing himself along her most sensitive areas, and he whispered through their kisses, telling her how much he wanted her, how hard she made him, how he couldn’t resist her anymore.

  Then stillness. He rested his forehead on hers and settled at her entry. Slowly, he pushed in. He was large, larger than anyone she had been with before, and she gasped as he filled her. He stopped, his brows wrinkled with worry.

  “Do you—” His voice came out choked. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No,” she breathed, “Please don’t.”

  Then he thrust hard, burying himself deep inside her. Mel cried out with pleasure as he withdrew and thrust again. His gaze was fixed on her, and her pleasure seemed to spur him on, with longer, harder strokes. Mel grabbed for his broad back and hung on as she felt herself nearing an edge that was coming impossibly fast. Her nails dug into his hard muscles, and Henrik let out a loud, low cry.

  “Don’t,” he snapped, but she had seen the glimmer of intense pleasure on his face.

  M
el searched for her voice between gasps.

  “Why not?” she whispered.

  “It’s too much,” he breathed.

  So she dug in her nails again.

  Henrik reared back and growled, with that same look of uncontrolled pleasure on his face. He took her hips and lifted them to drive himself deeper into her. Mel arched her back and clutched the blankets beside her, searching for something to hold onto, something to contain the flood of uncharted sensations that threatened to overtake her. Too fast, too much. All traces of self-control were gone from Henrik’s face. She felt him grow even larger inside her, stretching every part of her, pushing her over that final edge of pleasure.

  Somewhere far away she heard his cry, and he drove his final thrusts into her, sending new waves of torturous bliss through her sensitive core. He lowered himself onto his elbows above her, shuddering and panting. His whiskers brushed gently at her cheek as he buried his face in her neck. For a long time, Mel didn’t move. She wanted Henrik to stay that way, his large, firm body pressing on hers, still joined with hers.

  “We shouldn’t have done that.”

  His voice rumbled in her ear. Mel was tempted to laugh. Was Henrik going to reprimand her? Now?

  “You seemed to enjoy yourself,” she said, smiling.

  Henrik nodded and shifted off her, onto his side. But before her body had time to register his absence, he pulled her against him.

  “‘Enjoy’ is an understatement,” he said. “But we didn’t use protection. And by the time that crossed my mind, it didn’t matter anymore. It was… it was too much.”

  Mel squirmed under his grasp until she was looking into his eyes again. He turned his head, but she had already seen the regret and self-contempt.

  “I was hoping for a little more romantic pillow talk,” she said, coaxing his face back toward hers. She stroked his cheek until his expression softened.

  “You won’t get me pregnant,” she added.

  But her words didn’t seem to have the effect she had thought they would. Henrik closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. She wanted to ask him more, to convince him that everything was okay, but exhaustion weighed heavily on her eyelids, and they were hard to open. Despite the hard look in his eyes, Henrik’s body was warm and welcoming, and he held her to him as if she were his, as if she had always belonged there. So Mel let herself dissolve into sleep, telling herself she’d talk more to him later.