STOCKHOLM DIARIES,
CAROLINE 2
REBECCA HUNTER
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
STOCKHOLM DIARIES, CAROLINE 2
Copyright © 2016 by Rebecca Hunter
ISBN: 978-0-9964556-6-4
Cover Design: The Killion Group
Photography: Laura Turbow Photography
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any print or electronic form without permission.
Acknowledgments
My deep appreciation goes out to all the people who helped give this book direction. Thanks to Micki Gray for her comments on this story and for her question after reading Stockholm Diaries, Caroline: “What happens next?” That question was the very first seed for this book. Thanks also goes to Michael O’Donnell and my sister Leah for their suggestions.
I want to express my appreciation to authors Jane George and Ella Swift, both for their generous comments on this story and for their support, enthusiasm and long drives that help make writing a warmer, fuller experience.
Lastly, to my husband, I give thanks every day for the paths that led us to each other. How incredible it is that two people from opposite sides of the world can fit together so well.
Hawaii
CAROLINE LEANED BACK, resting on her elbows in the warm sand. She closed her eyes and let the sun seep into her skin.
Nope, that wasn’t working. Her arm muscles could barely hold her up at this point. She sat back up and brushed some of the sand off.
Niklas probably wouldn’t quit any time soon. She sat back up and scanned the break for his long white board. Only a few guys were still out. The tide had ebbed enough so that the waves were dying. The real surfers had probably headed for another beach, but Caroline wasn’t sure she had the energy to lift her board again, let alone paddle out into new waves.
Instead, she concentrated on the stretch of green water in front of her. The narrow beach they had found curved around a reef, creating a hidden surf break only accessible on foot. The beach itself was empty aside from Caroline. Everyone else in sight sat on a surfboard, waiting as the next set of waves rolled in.
Niklas turned his board toward the beach. He lay down, his long, toned body stretching along the surfboard, his shoulders and arms flexing with each movement. She knew those muscles, the hard, smooth planes under her fingers. He began to paddle toward shore, picking up speed quickly. Caroline’s heart thumped as she watched the power behind each stroke. Even after spending the whole summer together, she still couldn’t look away.
What he lacked in surfing experience, he made up for in strength and agility. The incoming wave pushed his board faster. He hung back for an extra second and then pushed up onto his feet, turning the board along the face. The wave curved behind him and broke as he rode. He made it most of the way to the beach before tipping over and crashing into the water. He came up and wiped the water off his face with his large hand, laughing.
“Nice,” she called as he guided his board through the water and up onto shore.
He pulled the leash off his ankle and walked over to kneel down in front of her, glistening in the sun. Slowly, he crawled up her body, leaving a trail of water along her sun-warmed skin. She leaned back on her elbows, and he dragged his wet, warm body over hers, pressing her into the sand.
“Hey, I just dried off,” she protested.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. Or maybe it was the hints of Swedish mixed into his English that made it hard to tell.
He shook his hair a little, dropping salty water onto her face. She closed her eyes, and he licked a drop off the tip of her nose.
“You were great out there,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers.
“I was just getting in the way. I’m sure those other guys were annoyed with me for taking their waves and then falling off.”
“Yeah, right,” he chuckled. “They all looked really irritated when you stood up in your bikini.”
She frowned. “Remind me never to wear a bikini surfing again. I almost lost my suit bottom when I crashed on that last wave.”
Niklas smiled. “We all noticed. I’m pretty sure you would’ve had a few volunteers to help find it. Or give you mouth-to-mouth, just in case.”
She threaded her fingers through his salty hair, stiff and almost white from the sun. His skin had turned to a golden brown over the summer, but after these last days in the water, his nose looked decidedly pink. Her own skin had turned a few shades darker, too. If she visited her father’s family in Mexico now, maybe she’d come a little closer to fitting.
She traced his strong jawbone down to cup his chin. His look turned hungrier. She smiled up at him.
“And now I’m contemplating mouth-to-all-sorts-of-places,” he said, dipping his head to lick the water off her ear.
She laughed, shaking her head at his exaggerated tone, teetering between comical and sensual. She could feel his mood shift from playful to something more determined as his lips moved to her neck. And she knew what that meant. The last time they had been in this position, they got a little carried away. That time, the beach had been dark and deserted. This time, it was neither.
“I think we’d better stop,” she said, glancing back out toward the last surfers.
“They won’t mind,” he said, kissing her shoulder. “And you taste so salty and good.”
He moved down a little, nudging her bikini top over to kiss the rise of her breast.
“Enough, Niklas,” she said, sounding a lot less firm than she would have liked.
She pried him off her, and he rolled over onto the sand, laughing. He sat up and pulled her next to him, her shoulders brushing the warm wetness of his side. This man was hers, with his sun-kissed skin and deep blue eyes. The waves lapped onto the shore, and they watched one of the last two surfers ride a wave in. She slid her hand up his thigh and leaned into him. She pressed her cheek against his arm muscles. He certainly didn’t take it easy on vacation. But then again, she never would have explored half the places on this trip if Niklas hadn’t been along, map in hand, pointing somewhere “just a little further. I promise it will be worth it.”
The Fates, or whoever controlled the course of her life, had flung them together for a summer that touched at wants she hadn’t known she possessed. The man who sat beside her now had found those wants, buried deep inside of her, and brought them out in the long, tantalizing weeks of their trip.
But this window of happiness was about to close. In a few more days, they would each return to their separate continents. Just that idea had the power to cut through the balmy Hawaiian breeze and send a chill through her. One more stop in San Francisco, and then they’d arrive in Detroit. The end. He could draw his stay in Detroit out to a week at most before hockey practices started back in Sweden. She already knew their last days together would tear at her enough to change her back into someone she didn’t want to be. Someone needy and indecisive. Someone who would beg Niklas to give up his career and stay with her. Or someone who would throw away her own, budding career to chase a man across the world. She had tried so hard to leave this version of herself behind.
No. She wouldn’t think about the end yet. That painful twist of reality would come soon enough. She wasn’t going to give up these last days together to brood on it. Caroline looked up at Niklas, searching for something to say to pu
sh back the tide of worries that had flooded in.
“You look surprisingly steady out there,” she said.
“Surprisingly?” he asked, grinning. “Not sure that’s a complement.”
She squeezed his thigh. “I mean for such a big guy.”
He watched the last surfer paddle to catch a wave. The guy’s board took off, and he rode up and down the small face, all the way into shore. “Another six months here in paradise and I might be able to catch something higher than my waist.”
She laughed. He turned and leaned over toward her, his eyes growing serious.
“You know, we could come back here,” he said.
She nodded a little.
“Really,” he said, moving closer.
“Sounds nice.”
“But?”
His question mingled with the quiet shush of the water meeting the sand. The last surfer disappeared along the river trail, into the dense forest. She and Niklas were alone.
“But nothing,” she said, frowning.
“You mean, but you don’t want to talk about it.”
Caroline looked down at the sand and shook her head.
“What happens after the trip isn’t going to be easy. Let’s just enjoy the time we have left,” she whispered. Before it ends. She couldn’t even speak those last words.
Niklas opened his mouth to say something, but she leaned over to kiss him before he could begin.
“Please,” she pleaded.
Niklas closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. He rested his forehead against hers. She leaned forward and kissed him again. The corners of his mouth quirked up.
“If you get your way on that topic, do I get my way in return?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Depends on what you’re after.”
But she already knew what he had in mind. He gestured along the empty beach and to the dense, jungle-like forest behind them. “We’re on our own now.”
He shifted and slid his hands around her ribcage. He guided her up, and she swung her leg around so she straddled him.
“Is this your way?” she whispered.
“Oh, yes.”
Her hand glided over his soft, salty skin, and she tasted his warm neck. He reached up to untie the strings of her bikini top, and she felt the gentle wind on her breasts. He lifted her higher and caught one breast in his mouth, sucking hard. Her body jolted from the suddenness of the pleasure.
“You look so sexy like this,” he groaned, finding her other nipple. She moaned. All thoughts of the future faded as the sensations took over. His large hands traveling along her body, his fingers digging into her skin. His two-day stubble tickling her ribs. The sand that had found its way under the edges of her bathing suit. The sun warming her shoulders. She wanted to remember all these details.
He eased back and undid the ties of his board shorts, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. He took out his growing erection.
“I want to watch you,” he breathed, and she nodded.
He untied both sides of her bikini bottom, and it fell off into his hand.
“Nice,” he laughed, tossing it to the side. “Definitely the right choice for today.”
But his expression grew serious when she leaned over to rest her hands on the ridges of his chest and began to tease him. He stroked the insides of her thighs hungrily. She moved slowly until his hands clenched around her hips, his biceps tense and straining.
Her own body begged her to hurry, but she paused. She took in the sharp anticipation of the pleasure she knew his long, hard body brought to hers. Niklas’s deep blue eyes focused intensely on hers, asking for more than just release. She needed to hold onto that feeling for just one more moment. When the tears threatened to fall, Caroline took a long, shaky breath.
It’s not over yet.
She looked into his eyes, silently answering him with the hopes she didn’t want to speak. Then she began to move, slowly, savoring each raw moment until they became one again.
Chapter 1
“ARE YOU SURE about this?” said Caroline, gazing up the long staircase that disappeared into the trees above.
“Nope,” said Niklas. “But my phone is telling me this is the best way to see Coit Tower.”
Caroline snorted. “That’s because your phone hasn’t been walking all day.”
She leaned against the metal railing and brushed a few stray strands of hair off her face. Despite all the hiking of the last months—or maybe because of it—San Francisco’s hills were testing the limits of her leg muscles. Of course, Niklas looked the same as he always did: alert, sexy, and ready for anything. At least he could have the decency to break a sweat on a day like today.
Caroline scanned his body, starting from the bottom up, looking for signs of fatigue, but instead she found the thick muscles of his legs, only partly disguised under jeans. His t-shirt hung just below the buckle of his belt, and she knew if she lifted that shirt she’d find the ripple of his stomach muscles, dusted with a trail of hair, that would respond when she touched them.
Niklas looked up from his phone and raised his eyebrows. The smile on his face widened. Caroline bit her lip. She didn’t think she had moved or made any sound, but somehow he seemed to notice the turn of her thoughts. He shoved his phone into his pocket and stepped closer until their bodies were almost touching. He cupped her chin and brushed his lips against hers in invitation.
“The climb’ll be fun. Let’s give it a try,” he whispered.
He let go of her and took a few steps up the winding staircase. Was he leveraging his sex appeal to get her to follow him? Caroline shook her head. She straightened her shirt and smoothed her hair.
“I’m not sure we have the same definition of fun,” she grumbled.
He turned back around, barely suppressing a smile. His gaze drifted down her body, slowing at her breasts and her hips, before he met her eyes again.
“I’m pretty sure we do,” he said, his voice a little deeper.
Caroline chuckled. Even if she ignored the more intimate hints in his words, he was probably right. The steps looked brutal from the bottom, but even from here she could see they’d get plenty of views of the San Francisco Bay on the way. She could stop for some photos as long as her arms weren’t shaking too badly.
“Fine, we’ll take the stairs,” she sighed. “As long as that phone of yours tells you how to get us to a nearby restaurant right afterwards. Preferably with lounge chairs and tropical drinks.”
“Yep.”
“And you might have to carry me part of the way.”
“Gladly,” he said, and she knew he wasn’t kidding.
She started up the staircase, trying to ignore the burn in her legs. Concentrate on the view. She looked up, and her gaze immediately found Niklas’s well-sculpted rear, flexing with each step.
Not that view.
As they turned the corner onto another flight, the phone in his back pocket rang.
He stilled. Slowly, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and looked down at the screen. Finally, on the third ring, he sighed.
“It’s my agent,” he said, frowning. “I need to get this.”
Caroline nodded.
“Hi Tom.” All the emotion left Niklas’s voice as he answered the phone. Instead, she heard the Niklas from the press conference in Stockholm: charming, polished, well-spoken but so far away from her Niklas. He smiled a little as he spoke, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Weren’t you the one who told me to take some time off this summer? I was just following your advice,” he said.
She studied him as he spoke. This Niklas she barely knew. The hockey player whose missteps landed on the front pages of the newspapers for everyone to see. The person she was about to meet again when their trip ended.
“Don’t even ask, Tom,” he growled, no longer smiling. “I’m not interested.”
He gripped the railing of the staircase, his knuckles whitening.
His eyes widened.
“Fuck.”
He ran his hand through his hair as he listened. The muscles of his jaw tensed and worked.
“No, that’s not going to happen.”
His voice was rising, and he held onto the phone like he might snap it in two.
“I said no. And she’s not part of this.”
He closed his eyes, listening, his mouth pulled into a deep frown. She wanted to walk up the steps that separated them, but the look on his face warned her away.
“Look, I’ll talk to you when I get to Detroit.” He ended the call and slammed the phone into his back pocket. She stood only a few feet away, listening to the sound of his breaths.
He bent over and rested his hands on his knees. His head hung down, and his broad back rose and fell.
Caroline took the last steps until she stood just below him. She brushed her fingers up along the muscles of his arm, around his shoulder and down his side. The rise and fall stopped, mid-breath. She stroked his arm again and held on gently. Finally, Niklas inhaled, long and slow. He shook his head before he straightened back up.
He took her hand in both of his, but he didn’t say anything. Caroline waited as long as she could.
“What was that about, Niklas?”
“Let’s talk about it tomorrow,” he said. “Today’s our last day here. I don’t want to get into that shit yet.”
He stared out at the water, but Caroline doubted he was taking in the beauty of the bay.
Whatever his agent had told him had shaken him, and her mind had already begun attempting to string together the one-sided conversation she had heard. The call from his agent must be about hockey—and it was something Niklas didn’t react well to. Hockey alone wouldn’t get a rise out of him. But she knew one thing that would: the rumors of abuse that had driven him out of Detroit in the first place.
Niklas had said she. Was Caroline the she or was it another woman connected to Niklas?
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