by Petrova, Em
Caroline couldn’t move. What Ludvig had said about him, his aggression on the ice, the photo she had seen—these all came pouring back. Her heart pounded through her whole body, and for the first time, she registered his towering figure with a twinge of fear.
He saw it, too. He closed his eyes and took a step back, his face suddenly pale. There was no other sound besides his breath, ragged and uneven.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispered.
She swallowed. She watched his face as he seemed to wrestle with what the situation had now become. All her sensibilities told her she shouldn’t be standing in his kitchen right now.
“Is this how it is with you?” she asked softly. “I saw the photo.”
He took another step backwards.
“And now you think I did that. That I’d do it to you,” he said, and he bent over to lean his hands on his knees, hanging his head down. “Oh, fuck.”
Niklas shook his head, and he slowly stood up. The anger on his face had changed into something else. Fear? Pain?
“No, Caroline, no,” he said, finally meeting her eyes. “This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”
She willed her voice steady.
“When I saw the photo, it didn’t seem to match the person I know, the person I let into my apartment and spent the night with. Until now,” she said. “Should I be afraid of you?”
Her words seemed to cause him physical pain, and his shoulders hunched to contain it.
“Please, no,” he said, his voice heavy and low. “I didn’t hurt that woman, and I would never do anything to hurt you.”
His face registered more pain as he spoke them, and his hand raked through his hair. For a moment, he looked defeated.
“Please, Caroline, can I come closer?”
She took a deep breath and nodded. He closed the distance between them, his eyes sad and pleading. He reached for her hand, and he held it softly in his.
“All along, this is what I’ve been scared of,” he whispered. “That I’ll turn into some sort of monster off the ice if I let these kinds of emotions in. I’ve seen other guys step over the line, and I’ve tried so hard not to let it be me.”
He hung down his head.
“I shouldn’t have let you in tonight after a game. That was stupid and selfish.”
“That scared me, Niklas. It wasn’t okay.” Her voice was barely there.
“No, Caroline, it wasn’t okay.” Niklas’s voice was shaking now. “I know this could be the last time I ever touch you. You might walk out right now and never come back. And I wouldn’t blame you.”
He was putting the very worst of him, all his fears into words. She could see how much it hurt him, but he continued anyway.
“If I ever did make a move to hurt you, I would want you to never come back. I’m so scared of what you think of me now. I get angry, aggressive on the rink. But I would never, ever hurt you or any other woman. Please give me one more chance. Just one.”
His hands were now stroking her hair, and he pulled her in against his shaking body.
One more chance. He had given her another chance when he suspected the worst of her, but this wasn’t the same thing at all.
He waited. Caroline drew back to look at him again. In his eyes, she saw deep fear and regret, but she knew that wasn’t a guarantee. Nothing was, in fact. Either she gave him a last chance, or she left right now, forever.
Whichever she decided, she wasn’t ready to leave without kissing him one more time.
His lips were soft and infinitely tender, just barely touching hers, an apology waiting for her answer. Caroline opened her mouth and kissed him back, unable to resist the taste of him. She felt his hand along her waist in gentle, soothing strokes. He trembled underneath her kiss. Caroline ran her hands down his sides, and she felt his muscles twitch at her touch. His kiss was more than an apology now; it was a promise, a promise of the things Caroline knew she had come for. Her body answered him before her mind could object.
His mouth opened to hers, softly biting her lip between his teeth, unable to hold back the hunger that seemed to build inside him. Then, suddenly, he broke off from her and took a step back, leaving them both panting. When he spoke, his voice was rough.
“I can’t—” he began but then stopped. “If you don’t want to give me another chance, you should go.”
His eyes were hot when they met hers, and she could see it was taking all his strength to break away from her. Her eyes fell to his hands, balled into fists again. He was giving her a chance to back out. You know what I am now, he seemed to be saying. You can go.
But she didn’t move. At that moment, she wanted him. All of him, whatever that meant.
“One more chance,” she finally said, looking straight into his eyes. “I need to believe that I never have to fear you.”
Caroline closed the distance between them again. She lifted her hand and ran her fingers over his hot skin. “I do want you, Niklas,” she whispered, her own voice shaky now.
His eyes were still fixed on her. His other hand reached up and smoothed her hair. She closed her eyes as his lips found hers again, his tongue slowly exploring her mouth. Then his mouth pressed harder against hers, and he let his teeth scrape over her bottom lip. He moved to her neck, drawing out flashes of desire that pulsed through her. His lips explored her shoulders as his hand moved down her back and onto her hips. She felt the wall at her back again, this time with his hard, heavy body against hers. She pulled up his shirt and her fingers met his bare flesh, hot and moist. Her hands moved over the tense muscles of his back.
He found the hem of her dress and moved his hand up the curve of her hip and the inside of her thigh. Slowly he drew his fingers up until he reached the top.
Oh, God.
“Oh, Caroline, is that for me?” he growled in her ear, hints of sadness and uncertainty and pain still there. “Do you want me?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
She grasped at the buttons on his shirt, trying to steady her hands as she pulled them open. Heat radiated from the muscles across his chest, and she could feel his heart pounding as fast as hers was.
Finally, she freed the last button. She ran her hands across his chest and over the expanse of his shoulders, opening his shirt. She pushed it down the taut muscles of his arms. She tugged the sleeves over his large hands, the right knuckles red and raw. Caroline let her eyes slowly trace the ridges over his arms, only inches away.
Niklas lifted his hand to her shoulders and pulled down the straps of her dress, letting it fall to the floor. Then he pushed away the straps of her bra. His mouth explored the lines that the fabric of her dress had covered, first her shoulders, then down her chest. He found her nipple with his mouth and ran his tongue over it. Then his teeth. Her legs felt like they were going to give out, and she fell back against the wall, waves of pleasure running through her. He reached around her back to undo her bra clasp, letting it fall to the floor, too.
He rested his arm on the wall behind her. His head hung above her, almost touching. His voice, raw and low, sent a shiver through her.
“My God, Caroline,” he whispered. “You make me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about the smell of your skin, your hair, your perfect breasts, the way you moan when I touch you.”
Caroline felt his large hand smooth her hair. The heat from his fingers seared her shoulders. His breath tightened as her hands slowly traveled down, over his stomach and to the buckle of his belt. Caroline knelt down onto her dress and undid his buckle. She unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Then she slid them down over his long, muscular legs, her palms flat against his hot skin. He stood completely still, every part of his body tense. She stripped off the rest of his clothes to reveal the last of him.
Shivers of anticipation ran through her as she stared at this man in front of her. A hint of sadness still lingered in him, and she wanted to touch him everywhere, to comfort him in the most intimate way she could. She placed her hands on the thick muscles of his t
highs and moved up slowly, over the dark blond hair that curled over them. As her hands moved further up, she came closer until she was only an inch away. She looked up at him. His mouth was parted, and his eyes were heavy with desire. Niklas suppressed most of a gasp, and his erection throbbed in front of her. Then with the touch of her lips, a low, torn groan escaped from his mouth. More groans, and then a strangled cry.
He lifted her roughly by the shoulders and kissed her hard, his body rigid against her. Then he picked her up, but they only got as far as the living room doorway. He pressed her up against the door frame as his fingers slid inside her panties.
“Right now,” he breathed, and she shuddered with pleasure.
Before she could finish nodding, he had placed her down onto the soft, red carpet on the living room floor. His hands held her wrists over her head, and his mouth found her breasts again, sucking and nipping at them until she cried out. She moved under the weight of his grip, but his grasp was firm and strong, and he didn’t let go. Instead, he opened her legs with his knee, and positioned himself, waiting like an animal about to pounce. Then, with a low groan, he pushed deep inside her until she gasped, full and already on the verge of ecstasy. He began with hard thrusts, watching her face with the same intensity she had seen on the ice, teetering on the edge of control. Sweat formed at his temples as he pushed harder and harder, the fiery determination of his eyes burning into her. And the harder he pushed, the more her body came alive underneath him.
He was stoking something inside her, something that grew hotter and hotter until it threatened to consume every part of her. She wrapped her legs around his, raising her hips to meet him. He pushed deeper inside of her, bringing her to the edge, watching her with a look of triumph on his face.
“That’s right,” he said, his voice low in her ear as he tilted her hips and found his way farther inside her, leading her over the edge.
She cried out, unrelenting waves of heat moving through her. Her arms strained to break free, to somehow contain the ripples of pleasure that washed over her. But he held her there. As she cried out from under him, the delicate balance of control Niklas had held burst, sending even more, uncontrollable waves of ecstasy everywhere. He surged and let out a torn growl, his hips giving their final thrusts. Then he fell to his elbows, his body quivering over hers.
A ragged string of Swedish words came from his mouth as they both gasped in shaky breaths. Caroline lay still, her body entwined with his, not willing to let go of the opening they had just found in each other. He let go of her wrists and smoothed the mess of her wavy hair out of her face. Then he lowered himself onto the soft, red carpet next to her, keeping his body pressed against hers.
Caroline breathed in the heat from him. She turned her head towards his so their lips were almost touching.
He watched her warily.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m worried I was too rough,” he whispered, “but at the time you seemed to enjoy it as much as I did.”
She smiled at him, and the worry lines on his forehead began to dissolve.
“Mmmm,” she nodded slowly, smiling. “You can always ask.”
“Was I too rough?”
She shook her head and said, “Nothing that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy.”
She brushed his hair out of his face. He no longer looked sad. In fact, on his face now was the beginnings of a look that bordered on smug satisfaction.
“What was it you just said to me in Swedish?”
Niklas raised his eyebrows and gave her a mischievous smile.
“Someday I’ll tell you. But not now,” he said.
They lay in silence, the breeze from the window cooling their bodies. Caroline didn’t want to move. She closed her eyes and let her skin melt into his.
Finally, she shivered, this time from the cold. He propped himself up on his elbow.
“What I’d like now is a shower,” he said and then let his eyes drift down her body. “And I’m hoping you’ll join me. I want to see what you look like wet.”
She felt him stir against her again, impossibly soon. She raised her eyebrows and said, “You just saw me wet.”
Then she buried her face in his chest and laughed.
“I can’t believe I just said that.”
She could feel him chuckling against her as he held her into him, the tension from before gone. But neither of them had forgotten it. Caroline was sure of that.
HIS ROOM WAS empty aside from a tall wardrobe and the enormous white bed. The long windows that lined one side of the room looked out into the trees of Vasaparken. She hadn’t been out to her early morning sanctuary in a while now. The string of hockey games seemed to have switched her body over to Swedish time, and she had slept through the last few nights. But not tonight.
Caroline lay on her back with her eyes closed. Niklas’s body covered her side, and his leg lay over hers, entwined. She was warm, despite the cold night air. His hand absently smoothed her hair over her shoulder.
“My whole body aches, and I can barely keep my eyes open, but I don’t want to sleep,” he said.
Caroline opened her eyes. She reached up and touched the surgical tape that cut across his cheek.
“The game,” she said. “You played today. It feels so long ago. And then…” Her voice trailed off, not knowing what to say about their volatile first minutes together that evening.
But she had said enough. Niklas’s lips tightened. He brushed a wisp of hair behind her ear and then put his hand on her cheek.
“I’m so sorry,” he said softly. “When I play hard, I—”
He stopped and shook his head. Then he took a deep breath.
“That’s why I wanted you to stay away from me after the game. And I really tried to keep my distance. But there’s something about you, the way you are with me, something I can’t stay away from. When I opened the elevator gate earlier this evening, I told myself I wouldn’t knock on your door. Not tonight, no matter how much I wanted to touch you, to be with you. But when I walked out of the elevator and saw you standing in front of me—”
“So your solution is for me to stay away when you get like this?” she said, raising her eyebrows.
He could clearly hear the challenge in her voice. This was his own logic, but when she spoke it, he seemed to hear the holes in it.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re right. It’s not your job to stay away from me. It’s my job to make sure I find a better way to take care of all these... feelings.”
Finally, he gave her a wry smile. “I don’t even know your last name.”
Caroline watched his beautiful blue eyes, finally open for her. Whatever this was that she had with Niklas, he was right: it was different. She felt the pull of him, his body, his voice, his hands, deep inside her, and she wanted to find her way closer to him, closer than the skin of their two bodies allowed. And he didn’t even know her name.
“Mendoza,” she whispered. “My last name is Mendoza.”
She ran her hands through his dark blond hair and then gently pulled his mouth down to hers. His lips were warm and soft, but she could feel the emotion behind his kiss.
“You’re making me crazy, Caroline Mendoza,” he whispered as he slid his body on top of hers.
Clearly, he wasn’t that tired.
“WHAT COMES NEXT for the famous Niklas Almquist?” said Caroline with a hint of a smile.
Twilight, the endless dusk of the Swedish summer night, glowed through the window. Niklas shook his head and looked at the ceiling. He lay with his hands clasped behind his head, the long muscles of his arms flexed hard. Caroline rested on her elbows next to him and watched his lips as he spoke. Her hair spilled over onto his chest in a tangled mess.
“One year with Djurgården. Practice starts in September.” His voice was quiet. “Sometime before that, I need to go back to Detroit and sell my house, ship back whatever I want to keep.”
His eyes moved away from her, and the tone of
his voice was flat.
“You don’t want to do that?”
“I wasn’t ready to leave the Red Wings. Though after the last year, I can’t say I’m surprised. But hockey is my life. It’s all I think about, all day, every day,” he said. Then his expression softened and he looked back at her. “At least it was all I used to think about.”
His mouth curved into a smile.
“I hardly believe you lived like a monk all those years,” she laughed.
“Well, no,” he chuckled, “but it’s never interfered with hockey before. Even when I was together with someone, I didn’t think about them during the rest of my day.”
He glanced over at Caroline. “I know that sounds pretty cold, but it wasn’t something I did on purpose. It just happened. Everything I did was for the game. I just thought that’s the way I was.” He stopped and let his fingertips trace down her arm. “Now I’m not so sure.”
His hand began to explore the curve of her breast, and her heart beat faster. But she stopped him, taking his hand in hers. She ran her fingers over the angry red of his knuckles. She studied his long fingers, rough and scarred. His fourth finger looked as if it hadn’t healed straight from a break. Then she linked her own fingers into his, letting them cover her hand. She raised the scarred fingers to her lips and kissed them.
“I’m afraid of how much I want you,” she whispered.
“WHAT AM I going to do?” Caroline said aloud.
The light of the full moon, shining through one of the long bedroom windows, had awoken her. It lit up Niklas’s face as he drew in slow breaths. Caroline fought the urge to touch him, to trace the outline of his face, to slide her hand over the muscles on his shoulders and down his long arms. Instead, she watched the steady thump of his pulse on his neck. She studied the curls at the ends of his sandy hair, his inexplicably dark eyelashes, the fullness of the lips that had explored her body. She studied each of the details, storing them in her memory for the day that was coming soon, the day she would leave.