A/N: so here it is! My first foray into the AH genre! Right now this is just a one shot, but let me know if you want it to continue. Mega shout-outs to my hella-beta vikingloverelle, for being so patient as I got the mojo back to finish up this story. I left her hanging, waiting for the lemons! LOL The Eric in this story is based off of Alexander Skarsgard, so when you imagine Eric, picture Alex. Sookie I have given my car, my passion for photo retouching, and my tongue-in-cheek stream of consciousness. Oh, and my red fuck me pumps. I only wish I could do a photo shoot with AS!

As always, the Maker, Charlaine Harris, owns us all. Even me.

I woke up this morning excited, dare I say hopping up and down, to go to work. I mean, I love my job, but some days are just better than others. I work for an ad agency as a photographer/photo retoucher. I'm something of an anomaly because not all photographers can glamour retouch their photos, whereas I can do it on-site so the subjects can see it in action and approve the changes. I work fast and I work well. Most retouchers work in little rooms, absent their subjects, never meeting them, which gives way to situations where Kate Winslet sues because they made her too skinny or in the case of Demi Moore, where someone has a brain fart and takes off her hip. I think my way is the way of the future and its certainly safer. But I digress.

I have a very good reason for being so excited about going into work today. I was scheduled to shoot Eric Northman. THE Eric Northman. Up and coming Hollywood actor, Swedish hunk, blond and gorgeous, reported to be gracious and easy to work with, Eric Northman. Oh, and did I mention that he's single. Not that that matters to me because there's no way he'd ever notice me. I'm just the woman behind the camera. I mean I'm pretty, but just about everything about me screams average except my boobs. I'm blessed with naturally big boobs. Other than that I'm average height (about 5'6), average size for an American woman (a 10 most days, an 8 on good days, which equals curvy), with blonde hair and blue eyes. The blonde hair blue eyed likeness to a certain Swede I've been daydreaming about. Well, me, and a large portion of the American female population. But unlike them, I get some up close and personal time with him today!

I popped out of bed and danced over to my closet. I spent a ridiculous amount of time puzzling over my wardrobe options for this shoot and had come up with what I felt was the perfect outfit for today. Black, wide leg, cuffed trousers (graphic designers LOVE black), a black v-neck top that showed off the girls (but tastefully), a wide, patent leather belt in screaming red, red crystal chandelier earrings and to top the whole outfit off, red, peep-toe stiletto fuck-me pumps. They were a stretch, but come on the guy's 6'4, and I had to be able to adjust the lights around him, right? Right.

I pulled my blonde hair back into a messy ponytail (I hated having my hair in my way when I worked) and carefully applied my makeup - I was going for a natural look with red lipstick that matched my outfit. Oh, and black mascara - as a blonde, my eyelashes tend to "disappear." Annoying.

I swung by the agency and grabbed my gear, loading it all into my fire engine red GTO. I love my car but it has the tiniest trunk for a car its size. I had to load some of it into the front passenger seat. Luckily, I had this down to a science. I jumped in, fired up the big engine and headed down to the studio where the shoot was scheduled. I got there way too early but I hate being rushed. Then you get all sweaty, and your face gets red, and it's just... ugh.

I got everything set up, but I had to approximate on the lighting, guessing a bit on how tall the lights should be for a guy that's 6'4". Sometimes the agency will send a stand-in, but since he was just up and coming, and not an A-lister, they hadn't. I'd just have to hope he was as easy going as everyone said and didn't fuss over the final set up.

I hooked my Mac up to the camera and got Photoshop loaded and ready to go. Finally, I sat down to wait.

At exactly 1:00, in strolled Eric Northman, looking every bit as tall and delectable as I had expected. Only, he seemed even more... I don't know, larger, somehow, and imposing, in person. He was wearing a black blazer over a purple plaid shirt, with a black tee underneath, jeans, and black tennis shoes. I was surprised to see he was alone, and not surrounded by handlers.

I stood up, and I extended my hand. "Mr. Northman, I'm Sookie Stackhouse. It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for being so prompt."

He took my hand and shook it gently. "Nice to meet you. I was raised that it was very rude to be late. And please, call me Eric. Can I call you Sookie?"

"Of course. Let's get started. Can I have you stand in front of the lights? I apologize that there's no stand in, so I will have to adjust the lights for your height and coloring."

"Sure, no problem. Take your time. I actually don't have any other appointments today." He casually walked over to the backdrop and shoved his hands in his pockets. Damn, he was a good-looking guy. Even better looking in person. Focus, Sookie.

I walked over to the lights and had to adjust them higher than I'd imagined. He was much taller than I had allowed for. Wow. I headed back to the camera and checked the screen, went back to the lights, tilted them down a bit. He looked a bit red. Back to the camera, yup, he looked better.

"I just need to take a few test shots, you don't need to pose, just relax."

"Sure. Wow, those are some shoes."

I laughed. "Thanks. I had to be tall enough to adjust the lights for you somehow."

He chuckled. "Ever hear of a ladder?"

"Ladders don't come in patent leather."

He gave a roaring laugh. "This is true. And you might fall off a ladder. Then I'd have to catch you. But that might not be a bad thing."

Was he flirting with me? Um... think fast. "Well then, I'll try to twist an ankle."

"Wait until the end of the day. I wouldn't want anything to get in the way of you completing your assignment." He smiled revealing a mouth full of straight, white teeth. Lord, help me.

I smiled back. "I'll keep that in mind."

I shot off a few test frames and they came out looking pretty good, but I wanted to make a few more adjustments. I tweaked the lighting, did a few more test rounds, and then felt like we were good to go.

"Ok, I think we're ready. I like the hands in your pockets look, could you pose like that for a few frames?"

"Sure."

I took a few shots like that, then I had him remove the blazer. He was pretty natural at posing, and we improvised a number of shots. He un-tucked his plaid shirt, and we shot a number of shots like that. Then he unbuttoned it (was it getting hot in here?) and we shot a few more. I got to touch him a bit when I went up to adjust the collar of his shirt, fix the way it draped, re-align his arm. Sometimes, its good to be me.

Then he took off the plaid shirt (yikes. yahoo. yum.) and I took a number of shots of him in just his jeans and black tee, sitting in front of the backdrop. The black really made his blond hair pop. The tee stretched across his broad chest and shoulders, showing how defined they were. I felt a bit faint.

After getting a number of shots like that, I couldn't focus any more. "Um, I think we've got it. Let me just upload everything to the computer."

I sat down at the table I had turned into a makeshift desk and hooked the transfer cable up to the Mac. Within seconds the shots appeared on the screen. My practiced eye immediately picked the best of the bunch.

"So, glamour or natural?"

"I beg your pardon?"

I laughed. "Sorry. I mean, do you want me to glamour retouch your shots, meaning I airbrush out any imperfections and make you look absolutely perfect, or do you want natural? You'd still look like you but I would retouch the technical imperfections, like the dust on the lens, the light flares, etc?"

He came around and leaned over behind me. "So you're saying you think I have imperfections?" He teased.

"Well, I happen to like you just as you are, but... if I was my editor, for example, I would ask me to fix these." I gently reached up and touched the small puffy circles under his eyes.
He looked surprised. "You can fix that?"

"Easily." I turned and, grabbing my trackball, clicked on my Healing Brush tool. I grabbed a few pixels of "healthy" skin and in a few moments had the skin under one eye smooth, taut and blending into his cheekbone.

"That's amazing. I've never seen it in action, or even really thought about it. And you do it so fast!"

"Well, it takes a lot of practice to make it look so easy." I smiled.

"I'm sure. But... I'm not sure I'm a glamour kind of guy."

"I don't think you are either. How about I just fix the technical stuff?"

"Sounds good. Can I watch?"

"Sure. I think there's another chair in the hall," I replied.

He popped out into the hall and came back carrying a chair and a big smile. "Success!"

I smiled back. His enthusiasm was so contagious and came in such a lovely package. It was so easy to be swept along with it.

For the next hour or so, we sat in easy silence as I worked, the only sounds in the room the clicking of my trackball and keyboard. He sat slightly behind me, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. I was self-conscious for a while, but after a few minutes, I honestly forgot he was there. I just went over the photo, pixel by pixel, correcting. This was what I loved. I felt like I was correcting nature, making it better than it actually was. It was a heady power.

Finally, I was done. I stood up. "Well, there you go. You, but slightly better, without camera and lighting imperfections."

He stood too and without a word swiftly kissed me, hard. I felt my knees give out, and his arm came around my waist to hold me up. He released my mouth after a moment.

"What was that?"

"You've been driving me crazy since I got here, with your fuck me pumps and messy pony tail. Watching you work, moving around, your belt making your curves stand out, I couldn't contain myself any longer. Sitting here, next to you for the last hour was sheer torture. Did you know you get this little wrinkle between your eyebrows when you concentrate? And you chew on your bottom lip when you seem frustrated? Jesus, woman, its sexy as hell!" He kissed me again and sucked my lip into his mouth, chewing on it lightly.

For a moment, my brain rebelled. I had one of those "he must do this to every woman" panic attacks. Then, my brain quickly realized I was kissing ERIC NORTHMAN, and it should shut the hell up! Brain successfully disengaged, I slid my arms around his waist to pull him closer to me and kissed him back.

I don't know how long we stood like that, clinging to each other and kissing like fools, but it must've been a while. Finally, he pulled back and I groaned from the loss of his lips on mine. He was panting and gave me a look that could melt Mother Teresa's panties.

"Let's get out of here. Come to my hotel with me?"

I thought fast. I had blocked out my schedule all day for this shoot and the agency had the room leased until 8 a.m. the next morning. I wasn't a one-night-stand type of girl, but how often would an opportunity like this come along?

"Ummm… okay. Let me just lock up and we can go." I shut down all the lights and threw my camera and laptop into my bag. By the time I got the door locked he had the elevator waiting. As soon as I stepped inside, he was on me again, kissing me like he was ravenous. I ran my hands down his back and to his delicious rear and had just wrapped a leg around him when a 'ding' alerted me that we were in the lobby. With, I might add, an amused and shocked audience of people who were waiting to get on.

I blushed to my hairline and grabbed his hand, tugging him behind me. I could hear him chuckle as I shot across the lobby as fast as my 4 inch heels could take me. Outside in the bright sunshine, I looked up at him.

"Do you want to drive or should I?"

"I had a car bring me, since I'm not familiar with this area, so would you mind…?"

I smiled. "Sure. I'm just down this way, about a block." I headed off in the right direction and he fell into step next to me, grabbing my hand and swinging it between us like it was the most natural thing in the world. I hated to let his go when I had to dig in my purse for my keys. I clicked the unlock button on my remote and he stopped in his tracks.

"This is you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You just didn't strike me as the sports car kind of girl," he said, getting in.

"You'd be surprised," I said as I slid into the driver's seat.

"I have a Corvette, myself."

"Really? We have the same engine. You've got less weight, though, so you'd probably whip me at the quarter mile." I tossed him a grin as I started the car and headed out.

The shocked look on his face was priceless. "How do you know about cars?"

"Trust me, if you grew up with my brother, you'd know about cars, too. I don't think he speaks English, just 'Auto.'" He cracked up at that. "So where am I going, anyway?"
He gave me directions and the closer we got to his hotel, the more nervous I got. Was I really going to do this? Have an afternoon delight with Eric Northman?

I drove on autopilot, just following his directions while my brain debated with itself. Yes, or no? Stay, or go? I went around and around with my conscience, my inner good girl fighting with the girl in my pants who was turned the hell on, just from him sitting next to me. His arm would occasionally brush mine, and it felt like electric shocks running through me. Finally, just as we reached his hotel, he reached one finger out and ran the back of it along my arm. That was it – I'd decided that yes, I sure as hell am going to do this! If the man could drive me crazy just by touching my arm, I wasn't going to miss the chance to find out what him touching the rest of me felt like!

I parked, and rather shakily got out of the car. He must have sensed my anxiety, as he smiled at me and gently took my hand.

"Sookie?"

Wait, that's me. "Yes, Eric?" I croaked out.

"It's okay, you know. I like you, I think you like me, and I'd like to spend some time getting to know you better. We can spend the time however you want. Nothing has to happen if you don't want it to." His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

"It's just…" Oh, Lord, was I really going to say this? I was, evidently. "I just wondered if you do this often. Kiss strange women, invite them back to your hotel..." Yup, I did it. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer, but the question was out there, regardless.

"This…" he gestured between us, "is not something I do often, no. I don't usually meet women who are gorgeous, intelligent, talented and can make me laugh. So, no, I don't. But, I felt like I couldn't let you pass me by."

God help me, I believed him. Call me naïve, but I did. I smiled a little shyly. "Well, in that case…"

He gave me a big smile in return and led me into the hotel. In the elevator, he simply wrapped his arms around me and snuggled me into his side. It calmed me. I noticed how good he smelled – not too strong, but a light, musky scented cologne. I slid my arms around him in response, my fingers tracing over the muscles in his lower back.

The elevator door opened, and he led me down the hall to his room. He slid the key card out of his pocket and swiped it, opening the door for me. He had a nice suite – not obnoxiously huge, but with a nice sitting area separate from the bedroom. I wandered inside – hovering – unsure of where to go or exactly what to do.

He came in behind me and strolled over to an armchair in the sitting area. He leaned back, stretching out his long legs and gave a relaxed sigh. "So, tell me about yourself, Sookie Stackhouse."

I simply stared at him for a moment. Here was Eric Northman, sitting in his hotel room, asking me about myself. Did I want to talk? Or did I want to grab this chance that was lounging in front of me and live out my fantasies? It only took me a split second to make up my mind, and then I flung myself across the room and onto him.

His chair flew back when I tackled him. He gave a surprised "oomph" as I landed on him and we both tumbled to the floor. He wasn't able to say anything else since I attacked his mouth with mine. It took him a second to switch gears, but then he was kissing me back, hard. His arms wrapped around my waist in a death grip and pulled me tight against him. His tongue began to move in an easily recognizable rhythm, and my hips answered his call, grinding against him.

He moaned against my mouth and sat up, rolling us away from the chair until he was on top of me. His hands ran down my body, feeling the shape of it, the curves. I reached up and yanked off his jacket and plaid shirt with one jerk.

"Too many clothes," I muttered.

His hands went to my waist, unbuckling my belt, then made short work of the button on my trousers. I reached for his black t-shirt and began to tug. He sat up away from me to pull it off, and I missed his contact immediately. However, I was distracted by the perfect chest now on display in front of me. I'll admit it - I gaped, a little.

He lifted up on his knees and tugged down my trousers. He slid his hands up my bare thighs as I kicked them off. I shivered from his touch on my skin, and reached for the button on his jeans. He leaned back and wriggled them off, his plaid boxers going along for the ride. I was now lying on the floor of a hotel room, with a very naked and aroused Eric Northman above me. I must've done something right in my life…

He rested his weight on one perfect arm as he tugged at my top, motioning that he wanted it off. I reached down, quickly pulled it off and threw it over my head. His eyes roamed down my body, taking in the red bra and panties I was wearing. From the look in his eyes, he liked what he saw.

He lowered his head over my bra, breathing a warm sigh over my breasts, sending tremors through my entire body. Biting down gently, he tugged at my nipple through my bra, and I'd never felt anything so good. I reached behind me, undoing the bra clasp, and he slid it down my arms.

"Beautiful," he whispered against my skin. His hands caressed my breasts, stroking, and then his tongue touched me. I felt like I was about to come undone, just from him licking and teasing my breasts. He caught a nipple in his teeth and tugged gently, and I went stiff with shock, feeling it everywhere.

While his mouth worked my breast, his hands slipped down my waist to the strap on the side of my panties. Fingers tucked under the waistband, and somewhere in my lust-fogged brain I registered the intent and raised my hips, allowing him to slide them down my thighs until I could wiggle out of them. I kicked them off and they went flying, somewhere across the room.

His large hands slid back up my thighs, tickling and teasing the flesh there. As if of their own accord, my legs opened, allowing him to glide further up. He slowly licked his way down my belly to the apex of my sex. A gentle finger ghosted up my slit, stroking and teasing. I moaned at the sensation, and my legs opened further, allowing for his broad shoulders.

"So beautiful…" he groaned against my core, and his voice sent vibrations through me. I felt his tongue dart out, touching my nub, and I about came up off of the floor. He began teasing me, flicking his limber tongue here and there, in and out. Just as I was about to scream with frustration and want, he pulled my nub between his lips and began sucking, strong. In what seemed like mere moments, I was incoherently screaming my release.

He licked me, over and over, from top to bottom as I came back to earth, and when I calmed, he slid his long, firm body up mine. He gently kissed my lips and smiled at me, stroking my hair.

That was fantastic…" I breathed. "But…"

"But?" his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"But… I want more," I said huskily. He smiled again, the furrow in his brow dissipating.

"Then more you will get."

He leaned down and kissed me, harder and more passionate than he kissed me at the studio. He pulled up on his knees and wrapped his hands around my hips, lifting them to meet his. He paused for a second, located his jeans and took a condom from his wallet, quickly rolling it on.

"I thought you said you didn't usually do this," I said darkly.

"I don't – this has been there since I was last dating someone, a few months ago." He smiled down at me, meeting my eyes. "I promise."

Again, I believed him – either he was a really good actor or a really good liar, but something in me said he was sincere. I nodded, and his smile turned into a beam that spread across his face. He held my legs and slowly began to slide into me. It was exquisite, feeling him stretch me slowly, moving gently in and out as my body fit to his. Inch by inch, he worked his way in, until it seemed like he was hitting my heart, he was so deep.

I moaned and wrapped my legs tightly around his waist. He understood my signal and began to thrust harder. I met his pace, lifting my hips to his. This was an ideal position – not only could he hit me, deeply and at a perfect angle, but I could gaze at his gorgeous bare chest as he did. Our eyes locked and he seemed to come undone, pounding into me with abandon.

He shifted slightly on his knees, and immediately began to hit my sweet spot. I felt a lovely warm, pulling sensation down low in my stomach, rising and rising until I hit my peak. Watching me come triggered his release, and I in turn watched him. He stilled, deep within me, and threw his head back, letting out a long moan. Finally he relaxed, and lowered himself to lay his head on my chest.

I was taken aback by the affectionate gesture. I figured he would be a "that was great, but I've gotta go" type of guy. I tentatively stroked his hair, and he sighed in pleasure.

"That was amazing, Sookie," he smiled against my chest.

"It was… it was, well, the best sex I've ever had," I confessed.

He looked up at my eyes and smiled. "It helps when you have an incredible partner." I blushed and looked away, making him laugh. "I'm being a horrible host, though – you probably have rug burns on your back!"

"It was worth it," I smiled.

"I'm glad to hear it. Let's get a little more comfortable anyway, though, okay?" He stood and reached his hand down to me. I took it and he led me into the bedroom. He tossed back the covers and lay down, pulling me to snuggle against him. I wrapped my arm across his chest and, in the warm cocoon of his arms I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke, it was dark outside and Eric Northman was spooned behind me. I smiled to myself, reflecting on the day. I realized it simply couldn't get any better. I decided to end my encounter with him on that perfect note.

I gently slid myself out from under his arm, draped across my hip. He didn't stir as I quickly dressed in the dark, although I was unable to locate where I had kicked my underwear earlier. Commando it was! I went back into the sitting area and found a notepad and pen on the desk. I scribbled a note and placed it on 'my' pillow, before slipping noiselessly out of the suite: "Today was perfect, thank you. I'll never forget it. – S"

---0o0---

A few days later, while rummaging through my purse, I found it – a note tucked deep inside, scrawled in messy handwriting on the notepad from his hotel. "I meant it – you are amazing. Women like you don't come along that often. Please call. Eric" There was a phone number at the bottom. He gave me his number? Well, hot damn.

A/N: always wear a condom, kiddies! (there's my after school special message for the day)