Stockholm Diaries, Caroline

by Rebecca Hunter

  “How’s your cheek?” she said, walking over to get a closer look.

  “It hurts like hell, now that the anesthesia’s wearing off.”

  “I saw it happen,” she said quietly.

  “I know,” he answered. A glimmer of emotion broke through his hard blue eyes.

  “Can I come in?” she said. “I want to talk.”

  He didn’t speak for a long time. Instead, he looked over towards the stairwell and out the windows until she was almost sure he wasn’t going to answer. But then he nodded. He brushed against her as he walked over to unlock his door, and his touch sent a familiar shiver through her body. Caroline watched him. It felt like she were making some sort of decision, though what this decision was still remained unclear. She followed him in, and the door slammed shut behind her.

  Boxes lined the hallway and were scattered around the first room she could see, the living room, as if another moving truck had just arrived. The kitchen looked a little better. At least the boxes were opened, and a small stack of plates and glasses sat on the open shelves above the counter. Niklas took down a glass and poured himself a shot of whiskey.

  “You want one?” he asked, looking across the room to where she was still standing.

  Caroline shook her head.

  “Suit yourself,” he said and drank down the amber liquid in one gulp.

  He looked back up at her. “Your boyfriend’s busy tonight? I guess I gave him something to write about.”

  His voice was low and rough, and Caroline could see the red rising in his cheeks. His hand clenched the glass. He had an edge to him that she had seen a glimpse of when he came to her door the other day, confronting her with the photos she had taken of him. But this time, he didn’t bother to hide his frustration.

  “I’m not going to answer that,” she said, feeling her own cheeks getting hot, too. “I already told you that Ludvig is a colleague, nothing else to me.”

  Caroline could see Niklas’s jaw unclench a little. He took a deep breath and walked across the room until he was standing only inches away from her. She could feel the pull of the heat from his body. He still clutched the empty glass in his hand, his knuckles white around it.

  “Why did you come to the game?” he said. “I told you not to.”

  “And you want me to do what you tell me to do?” Caroline’s eyes narrowed, daring him to answer yes.

  “I wanted you to listen to me.” He spoke with icy deliberateness, his blue eyes now dark and fixed on her. “I told you I can’t mix hockey with something—something like this.”

  His head bent toward hers, and Caroline found herself staring at his full lips, her entire body wanting to taste them again. This was hardly the tone of their conversation, and, yet, she felt it as much as she felt anything else. She wanted to reach up and trace the cut across his cheekbone and the remaining line of the scar above his eye.

  She had decided to give Niklas a chance to explain. But in truth, there was a part of her that had come over because the pleasure of a night together, even just one more, was too great to resist. And standing so close to him now, the pull between them was even stronger than before. Ludvig’s words nagged at her again: Nothing would ever come before hockey for him. The person on the ice would always come first. That truth lay behind Niklas’s success on the rink, and she couldn’t let go of it.

  Did he let her into his apartment out of some misplaced chivalric duty, because they had slept together? Did he change his mind about wanting something more? It was so easy to believe she was just one in a long line of women that he spent the night with, only to move on after the next game. Or did he also feel this same physically consuming desire that was pulsing through her? She stepped back, hoping that separating her body from his would help her think, but she felt the kitchen wall behind her, holding her in.

  Finally, Caroline drew in a breath and answered him.

  “I barely even know you, and you want to tell me what I should do?” The evenness in her voice surprised her.

  She watched her words hit Niklas, and a mix of anger and hunger exploded on his face.

  “No,” he growled. “I’m telling you I can’t handle this.”

  It took a moment for Caroline to register what happened next. She watched his arm suddenly move across his body, and then there was the sound of something shattering against the far kitchen wall. Something had flown across the room. The empty glass he had been holding, she realized. Now it lay in shards on the kitchen floor. She looked from his glass to his now-empty hand and then back again, trying to make sense of it. He had thrown his glass across the room.

  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 thighs 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 shuttered 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 brus
hed 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.