Nordic Lessons

by Christine Edwards

  I see him and immediately recognize him as the guy driving the wrecker last night. He’s laughing full out at something his companion just said. I watch him closely and note that he’s maybe twenty-five or so, and the epitome of Nordic hotness. His wide shoulders look honed and strong, like a boxer’s.

  Lisetta says, “He works with Mikkel. They design motorcycles together at Heavy’s. They’re both unbelievably talented, and lucky for me, they both know how to work on cars as well.”

  “Do they now?” I silently ponder if Mikkel might be the one working on the Jaguar for me. How sweet of him.

  “That’s right.”

  “Bern’s supremely good looking. You both complement each other quite well, Lisetta.”

  “You think?”

  “Oh yes, absolutely. So, do you work?”

  “I do. I’m the manager of a day spa in the City Centre. You really should come by sometime. We offer some unbelievable massages and facials.”

  “Yes, I’ll have to get your information tonight. I would really love that.”

  “Humor me for a second, Elora.”

  Before I have a chance to ask her what she is on about, she leans forward once and calls out, “Mikkel, two Aquavit shots!”

  Shots? Oh hell … It’s party time!

  Three eye-watering shots and two more Absoluts later I find myself on the dance floor with Lisetta. “Everlong” by The Foo Fighters is pounding away, played in a supremely wicked fashion by the twenty-something rockers onstage. The more I drink, the finer they sound.

  Mikkel secured my jacket and handbag behind the bar for me, and now Lisetta and I are in the midst of a crowd of at least thirty people swaying and dancing together.

  She has to get close, pressing into me, nearly shouting so I can hear her. “Are you having fun, Elora?”

  I touch her shoulder and yell, “Brilliant, Lisetta!”

  “Awesome! Glad to hear it. Stay right here and dance. I need to use the restroom. I won’t be but one minute.” Her blond brows draw together. “Wait, unless you’d like to come as well?”

  I shake my head, “Nah, I adore this song. I’ll be fine. See you in a few.”

  Mikkel’s not but twenty feet away tending bar should I need his help.

  In my tipsy state I vaguely register her making her way back through the crowd toward a back wall. I hope she won’t be long.

  The band is in full force, driving the crowd into a near frenzy with their spot-on guitar riffs and wild drumming. It really is a bonus that the lead singer is gorgeous, if not rough, with a myriad of visible, menacing tattoos peeking out from his midnight colored Motorhead tee. And those are just the ones I can see.

  I try to rise up on my tiptoes to spot Mikkel. I assume he’s still tending bar, but with all the bodies packed so tightly together on the dance floor, I’m having a tough time seeing anything other than those around me. I decided early on that the vibe at the party was quite friendly, with everyone cheering and toasting in boisterous revelry. I can’t recall the last time that I felt so … alive.

  A light brush of a body sweeps against my backside. I turn about quickly, hoping that Mikkel has taken a break and is ready to have some fun with me. I’m so very wrong. Staring down at me is a gigantic, twenty-something biker. Shaved head, imposing tribal tattoo winding up around his thick neck, and a jet-black tee that reads in bright red lettering, straight across his tremendous chest, ‘Menace to Sobriety.’ I swallow. Hard.

  He says nothing, which is actually far scarier than if he were to speak. His intimidating grin features a silver-capped front right tooth. What a charmer ….

  I certainly don’t want to anger this man. He looks seriously inebriated with his in and out of focus gaze that happens to keep landing on my cleavage. Fucking hell ….Where are you, Lisetta? I try to back away but the crush of bodies offers no easy escape route. I decide to take a non-aggressive approach and keep up my rhythmic dance moves. I even dip my head in acknowledgement and give him a pleasant smile.

  As soon as she returns, I’m sprinting to the safety of that barstool!

  Suddenly, two things happen at once. The biker’s wide hand reaches out to clasp me on my left side, near my ribs, but this isn’t what stuns me. At the same time a massive palm falls heavily onto the biker’s shoulder, stopping him dead in his tracks before he ever manages to touch me. Luscious, striated golden eyes lock onto my wide ones. Mikkel leans into the biker from behind and says in a tightly contained voice, “Hun er min, Gunnar.” She’s mine, Gunnar.

  The brawny biker turns in a near sideways stagger to see whose hand is on him. Then he reaches out to grasp both of Mikkel’s forearms in a friendly gesture, pulling him into his space to say something against his ear that I can’t hear. Clapping Mikkel twice on the back, he stumbles off toward the right side of the dance floor.

  Within the span of a second my hand is covered by Mikkel’s warm one, and I find myself nearly jogging behind him to keep up with his strong, sure strides as he cuts a path through the crowd. We’re off the dance floor and are moving fast towards a far, back corner when I catch sight of Lisetta, who is making her way back from the ladies room.

  “Hey, Elora! There ….”

  Her sentence cuts off as her eyes land on Mikkel’s face. Uh, oh, this can’t be good. Her pretty blues pop wide and she stops dead in her tracks. Her jaw slams shut.

  What’s happening? I’ve done nothing wrong!

  I pull back lightly and call out to him, “Mikkel, tell me what’s going on?” He better not think I was flirting with that mountain of a guy back there!

  “Oooh!”

  I cry out as he pivots around, and rather than responding, tugs on my clasped hand. I fall off balance as he lifts me up into his strong arms in an effortless swooping motion. To my humiliation, I feel the plentiful pleats of my minute mini swaying in and out beneath me. Oh, oh shit!

  Please, please do not let any of these complete strangers catch a prime view of my knickers! Completely mortified, I’m about to protest, but one up close and personal look at the stern set of his laser-focused eyes has me rethinking that idea inside of a second.

  He hits a set of back steps and begins a quick ascent. I twine my arms up around his hot, thick neck out of sheer self-preservation. Holding tight, we come to an abrupt stop, and he bends low to twist open a door handle. I’m able to get one last look at the party that’s throbbing in chaos below us. I quickly realize that no one except Lisetta seems to have noticed anything, as if carting off a woman in prime Viking fashion into the dark, shadowy corners of a biker club is a commonplace occurrence, like playing a game of billiards. Surreal.

  Deep in the recesses of my brain I know that I should be more than a little alarmed, yet this man, this enigmatic human being, sets me on fire with every single one of his unpredictable, sexy moves. At every turn I find myself nearly breathless with anticipation, wondering what he will do next.

  It is pitch black in the room. He immediately kicks the wooden door shut behind us. The air is cleaner and noticeably cooler. There must be an open window somewhere up here. He lowers me down gently, keeping his left arm taut around me as my boots touch the ground. I’m pulled in against his searing heat and I can’t disguise the low whimper of need that escapes from my lips. I plant my hands on his black tee and I have to blink twice because his pecs feel honed to delicious perfection beneath the softly worn cotton.

  Before I can make another sound, I’m slowly lowered down onto my back, coming to rest on a pliant leather sofa. Mikkel stays with me, his arms encircling my body, legs straddling mine. Within the heavy shadows I strain to see him, feeling the warmth of his breath close and steady against my temple. He’s hidden mostly in the haze of darkness. I can just make out his features, barely, though not his expression. His weight comes in closer, pressing hotly into the silk of my thin blouse.

  “He can’t touch you. You’re only for me, Elora.” His whisper is soft but laced with cold, solemn intent.

  As the ter
ritorial statement registers, his mouth lowers down to cover mine in a branding kiss. His smooth, full lips take the lead, devouring mine in a rhythmic motion in tune with the overt sensuality and controlled aggression that emanates from his every pore. The softness of his goatee brushes against my face. I let out a small, involuntary moan as his velvety tongue lazily swipes against mine for the very first time. The taste is a sweet blend of cinnamon and mint, so fresh. The hot pleasure so searing, I already feel the wetness between my open legs. A throbbing pressure begins to mount within me in eager anticipation of his touch … his everything.

  His lips are relentless, bending me to his will, devouring me. The scent and intense heat that he is throwing off is making my head spin with the need for more, oh God yes, everything ….

  My hips bump up of their own accord, seeking relief from the pounding that’s mounting deep within my core. His mouth pulls away from mine, and I can’t help but groan in protest. My hip is instantly pinned back down against the sofa as his silky voice resonates against my left ear.

  “Be good, min skjønne. I know what you need, but you have to behave and take it only as I give it. Soon you’ll understand how rigid I am about my rules. My rewards are earned, never taken, sweet girl, understood?”

  My fingers reach up and glide through his short, cropped hair. A low growl of male approval slices through the muted pounding of the metal music that’s creeping into the room.

  I speak softly to him, an unmistakable edge of urgency in my voice, “All right Mikkel, I’ll try and be good for you.”

  He grunts once above me before that sexy mouth begins its ruthless assault once again. Ever so slowly, his legs move inside of mine and spread me to accommodate him. The supple leather of those wicked pants is working against my bare thighs, and the friction and need to brush against him has me lifting up once again, desperately seeking that hot male hardness. Oh, hell yes ….

  His large left palm threads through my tresses and tightens in a painful hold. Stinging pain gets my attention like a blaring ambulance siren as he pushes into me with his hips, pinning me motionless beneath him. His weight is astonishing.

  “Oh! Wh-what?”

  A low, controlled whisper unlike anything that I’ve heard before passes against my lips. “Behave, little one.”

  My hammering heart matches my frantic breathing. My eyes go wide and I whisper one word. “S-sorry.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Sorry, Mikkel.”

  “I’ll accept that, for now. Are you ready to be my good girl?”

  “Yes, yes, please, Mikkel.”

  He lowers his face until the tips of our noses touch. “Good. There’s my sweet skjønne.”

  The grip on my hair is released as he gently runs his fingers down my cheek. His mouth goes to work against mine, opening me once again to his pleasure.

  Be still, don’t seek him out, Elora ….

  The throbbing seems to increase tenfold now that I’m trying to be good and follow his instructions.

  I will not lift my hips! The temptation is almost too much. How am I ever going to bear it? The tight pressure inside is nearly overwhelming.

  He continues with the engulfing kiss and I nearly cry out when his right hand snakes down between our bodies to press hotly against my satin-covered sex. Finally! His large, hot palm is still, completely covering my pussy, and his body is tight with restraint, as if he’s wrestling internally with control. I whimper once.

  His mouth pulls away slightly and he surprises me by running his right cheek up against the side of my face.

  In a hushed whisper he speaks into my ear, “I know it’s not easy, Elora. You’ll get what you need, but you have to be patient and follow my lead, understood?”

  I nod eagerly against his heated cheek.

  “There’s my good girl.”

  Oh my God. That was so hot.

  He lifts his palm slowly before running two fingers across the smooth material, briefly passing over my pulsing clit. I clench my teeth and struggle internally for a modicum of control. I can sense that my panties are damp. Undoubtedly he knows this.

  “Mmm, you’re behaving so nicely for me, I believe that you deserve your reward, min skjønne, don’t you?”

  His beauty … I love how he says it with such possessiveness. Embarrassed, I pant, “Please, oh, oh, please Mikkel. Yes ….”

  “Fuck, you’re so sexy when you beg me, Elora. I can’t wait to have you spread out, secured to my bed …. Soon, angel, I promise you.” The wicked confidence in his voice astounds me.

  God, yes … just that dark thought brings on another wave of delicious heat that threatens to make me come apart beneath him.

  One lone finger passes up and back against the right seam of my panties, just at the juncture between my inner thigh and the rise of my sex. So close … please, please! Anything, just don’t stop!

  As if reading my mind, he slides in under the elastic to brush a feather light caress against my drenched channel.

  A desperate pant escapes as I call out in the shadows, “Oh, yes, Mikkel ….”

  He groans as he makes another gentle swipe across my slick outer lips.

  Again … more!

  Three steady thumps against the door have us both jerking upright. His hand quickly withdraws and I smack my fist down against the leather of the cushion in complete frustration.

  “Faen!” Fuck! His heated, foreign curse comes out in a dark growl as a male voice speaks loudly on the other side of the door. Whoever it is must know better than to enter.

  He pushes off the couch and is moving across the room as I do my best to sit up and adjust my skirt, which is twisted up about my waist. Thankfully, he only opens the door enough to speak to the person on the other side. His broad back is too wide to allow me to see who it is and they speak low and rapidly in their exotic language. I savor the fluidity of his speech, so elegant and direct. I really hope they hurry up because I can’t think of anything aside from him finishing what he’s started.

  He ends the conversation and opens the door all the way. Light and music floods into the small room as he turns to face me. He looks terribly unhappy. His mouth is twisted down into a frown and his large hands are planted on his hips.

  I blink several times to allow my pupils to adjust. It’s obvious that our little private time has come to an end. “I, ah, I really should be heading back now, Mikkel. I have a lot of work scheduled tomorrow and it’s, um, getting late.” Suddenly I’m embarrassed about what just happened.

  I try to smooth my long hair into some semblance of order as he strides over and holds out his hand.

  I place mine in his as I’m pulled up to stand before him.

  “And why are you working on a Sunday, min skjønne?” He seems to have calmed down a bit after the conversation at the door.

  “I have an appointment at a gallery near Byporten in the City Centre on Monday morning. A new piece has been on my mind, and I’d like to get a start on it. Besides, painting eases my nerves about the meeting.”

  He gently brushes strands of loose hair from my face and says quietly, “Of course they’ll want your work. It’s detailed and first rate. As much as I don’t want to, I’m going to run you home now. The party is raging down there. A fight already broke out downstairs and Bern is swamped behind the bar. We’ll both be here ’til well past dawn. This is no place for you here tonight without me by your side. Not enough people know who you are yet, that you’re off limits. I can’t give you my full attention tonight, Elora, and that bothers me.”

  “Yes, I think that would be best. I really did enjoy the party. Lisetta is lovely. I’d like to take her up on her offer to get together sometime.”

  “Yeah, she’d be a nice friend for you. We can make that happen. I’ll be sure to get you her mobile number.”

  His hands span my hips and I’m pulled against his tremendous body. Lips lower down, a breath away from mine. “I want you to come to my garage on Monday at five o’clock. The Jag w
ill be ready then. I’ll follow you back to park it at your flat; then we’re going to ride out to my home. I’m cooking us dinner. Want some alone time with you. Sound good?”

  My brows draw together. “You want to cook me dinner?”

  “Yeah, and—?”

  “Um, well, that would be lovely, actually. I look forward to it.”

  I gasp softly as those strong, callused palms clasp each side of my jaw, pulling me up as he lowers his face to whisper silkily, “Where did you come from? You’re like an angel made especially for me.”

  Before I can respond his tongue roams the seam of my lips for a moment before sweeping deeply inside my mouth to swirl against mine. I sway into him, the feeling so heady and lush. I’m quickly coming to the realization that with Mikkel, the central thought at the forefront of my mind is simply … more, please.

  He pulls back as I sway deeper, aching for the addictive pleasure he bestows on me. He groans in need, “Fuuuuck, I need to give that mouth time and attention I don’t have, with everything going down tonight. Damn shame too, min skjønne.”

  My lips are slick and my breathing is ragged as I straighten my shoulders, struggling to respond with grace. “Yes. Right, then. I really should be going.”

  In actuality, I want to be as close as possible to him; naked would be at the tip-top of my list.

  His lips brush against the top of my hair as he rumbles, “Come with me. Let’s get you home.”

  Yes, safe within the flat is most likely the best place for me at this point in the evening. With the memory of being pinned beneath his impressive body on the couch just minutes before, I know that there is absolutely no way I could ever hope to deny him if he took our wicked play to the next level.

  I’m a patient girl, and I really hope that specific virtue will pay off, because I already know I can’t wait until the next time we are alone. It’s going to be an unbelievably long wait until Monday.

  Chapter Three