I was going to wait and post this tomorrow, but everyone has been so patient...so here you go!

Hopefully you'll think it was worth the wait...

Unending thanks and love for my beta: evenflo78, for all her hard work. She does a fantastic job and I'm so glad to have her help! *blows kisses*

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Southern Vampire Mysteries/True Blood. SVM belongs to Charlaine Harris & TB belongs to HBO. I make no profit from this story – I'm just manipulating the characters/storyline for fun!


Chapter Seven: Hear Me Out

(Sookie P.O.V.)

True to her word Gran woke me at three thirty after bringing in my basket of clean laundry and my dress – which she'd pressed – she left hanging on the back of my closet door. I showered again, taking the time to shave and even do a bit of 'lady-scaping'. I brushed my teeth and checked my face for any unsightly pimples or marks before I dared to leave the bathroom.

By the time I'd dried off, rubbed myself down with lotion, and gathered my hair supplies and picked out my make-up for the night, it was four thirteen.

A quick search of the clothes basket yielded my new under-things; I slipped them on and pulled on a light robe to keep them safe while I fixed my hair and make-up. Gran popped in while I was drying my hair to wish me 'good luck' before she left. I curled my hair in long tendrils, lightly pulled a comb through it, and placed it just-so to make it frame my face, but still keep out of the way - giving it a good spray with a soft hairspray to make it obey, and then started applying make-up. Pale pink lipstick with a gloss overcoat, a touch of foundation to blend my skin tone, a dusting of blush on my cheekbones, mascara, eyeliner, and cream eyeshadow, with a hint of silvery-white at the crease of my lids.

Off went the robe and on went the garter belt and hose, then the dress, which I was pleased to find it fit like a glove, and finally the heels. I felt like I was missing something so I slipped on a thin silver bracelet and a set of red 'gem' studs, before checking myself over in the mirror.

Whoa. Seriously, whoa. I turned in front of my mirror, smoothing my hands over my waist and hips. I looked hot! Everything made me seem slender and taller, which was a definite plus in my book. If I didn't wear heels the height difference between Eric and I would be absurd!

I grabbed my red purse, which Tara had given me on Friday – the girl was out of control with the whole gift giving thing – and since I'd left mostly everything in there I just had to add my cash, ID, keys, make-up, perfume, and my cell. I left the condom in the purse, just in case. A girl could never be too careful, even if it wasn't my style to hook-up and participate in one-night stands.

I snatched my purse up and went in search of the mini lint-brush we kept in the laundry room and added that to my purse as well. I wasn't sure what kind of car Eric drove or if anything would find its way onto me between now and our arrival.

I perched on a kitchen chair, sipping at a glass of tea, twirling my bracelet around my wrist to occupy myself.

It was only five thirty-seven. Not that I'd been keeping an eye on the time or anything. Just the occasional glance at the clock, that's all.

I was pacing by five-forty.

I almost didn't hear the crunch of gravel or the purr of the engine, assuming that I was hearing things – because I'd already checked the front window six times in the last five and a half minutes – but when the doorbell sounded I jumped and squeaked.

He was here. Oh my god. He was here and it was only five fifty. I love a man who knows to show up a little early.

It took all my effort to walk to the door, and I opened it after a steadying breath.

So glad I was holding onto the door, because otherwise I would have fallen over.

Eric stood in the doorway, dressed to kill. A blue dress shirt, with the top three buttons undone, made his eyes pop; a dark gray blazer, left unfastened, and matching slacks complimented his complexion and went well with his dark dress shoes. There was a silver necklace, with what appeared to be a claw or something similar, peeking from between the spread fabric of his shirt, drawing my eyes to the small sliver of exposed, tanned, chest. His broad shoulders and muscular arms were hidden by the blazer, but I enjoyed the sharp contrast of his blond hair, falling in a soft wave to his shoulders, against the dark gray.

I caught myself saying a quick internal prayer of thanks for whoever had designed the clothes he wore.

He smiled down at me, eyes bright, and extended his hand to offer me a single calla lily. "Good evening, Sookie."

I stared up at him for a moment before a wide grin overtook my lips. "Hi Eric." I felt absurdly shy as I accepted the flower. "Would you like to come in for a minute? I need to grab my purse."

"Of course." I moved and he entered the house, eyes darting around to take in his surroundings. He followed me to the kitchen and I made a pit stop at the counter to fill a small vase and put the flower in it, setting it on the table and taking my purse in exchange.

"You remembered – thank you."

He flashed me a boyish grin and took my hand, gently leading me to the door. "If it makes you smile like that, I will remember all of your favorites."

Locking the door behind us, I giggled. "It's a long list."

He offered me a hand and led me down the steps. "I'm a patient man."

When we reached the car he opened the door for me and I finally looked away from him to the vehicle. My mouth fell open for a split second and I snapped it shut quickly. A corvette? A 'candy apple' red corvette? Holy hell!

"Is it sad that I'm insanely jealous of your car?" Eric snickered and helped me inside.

I pretended not to notice the way his eyes raked over my legs as I tried to get in without flashing him – fucking bucket seats! I saw him lick his lips and shake his head lightly before he shut my door and sprinted around to his side, sliding in quickly.

The car purred to life, music pouring gently from the speakers, and with a quick turn we were on the road. I didn't recognize the song so I listened intently, and I realized it wasn't in English.

"What language is this?"

Eric peered over at me. "Ah, currently German but there is also Swedish, French, and Russian on this CD." He shifted gears, and offered an apologetic smile. "I usually listen to music when I drive; you are free to turn on the radio and pick a station, or turn it off."

I shook my head and leaned back, turning to face him a little. "I like it. I don't understand it of course, but I still think it's interesting. The emotion can still come through, no matter what the language."

"What languages do you speak?"

"Aside from the obvious English, I know some Spanish from high school and a tiny bit of French. You?"

He shifted gears again as we reached the highway, and we quickly picked up speed. "Swedish, English, German and Russian. I understand French, but I do not speak it very well and I can say a few words in Italian."

Jeeze-louise! "Wow. Why so many?"

"German was taught to me in high school and Russian I learned in college. English because of mother and Pam. Pam studied French in school and I helped her study so I learned along the way. When I was about ten my grandmother took me with her to Italy for a few weeks, the summer before she died."

I wasn't sure what to say to that, since he'd lost someone he loved, so I focused on the good of it. "Did you two have fun?"

"Yes. She was a very fun grandmother. Always happy and smiling, and ready to spoil me whenever I visited."

The way he spoke of her reminded my of my own feelings about Gran, and I was happy that he remembered her fondly.

"Not to change the subject," he chuckled, "but are you going to tell me where we're going for dinner?"

"No."

"No?" I raised my brow at him, challenging him slightly.

"It's a surprise." He wiggled his brows and I let it go with a laugh. I could deal with a surprise if it meant getting to spend time with him.

We filled the rest of the ride with idle chatter, but mostly we were quiet, enjoying the music. Normally silences are heavy and I need to find a way to break them, but this one was peaceful, and I let myself relax into it.


When we reached Shreveport he took so many turns that I was lost within minutes. We drove down a road full of little shops and diners and I was wary. By the way he was dressed, I assumed we were going somewhere a little more 'formal'. He turned a final corner, and a bunch of small shops with hanging signs gave way to a large lot where a brick building took residence. Flowerbeds were in full bloom, creating a riot of color, and a cobble stone path, flanked by squat 'antique' lamp posts, led from the street to the door.

We pulled up to the curb and Eric parked, but left the car on. A valet seemingly materialized out of thin air and Eric turned to look at me as he unbuckled himself. "I'll get your door."

I nodded and he slipped out of his seat, leaving the door open – I think I heard a muttered warning about scratching his 'ride' being given to the valet – and then he was opening my door and offering his hand to help me up and out of the low seat.

Once I was safely out, purse in hand, he escorted me over the stone pathway, a smile lighting up his face as I swiveled my head about to take in all the details. The flowerbeds were well cared for, the grass perfectly manicured, and the night air was filled with sweet and crisp scents from all the flora around us. An archway protruded from the building front, offering a cover for those entering, and hanging from it was a glossy wooden sign, etched with swirling letters – painted black within the indents; Britlingen's.

Strange name, but the place was lovely and I was pretty sure the inside wouldn't disappoint either.

Eric pulled the door – a thick, rich brown wood – open and we stepped inside a well lit entryway made up of earth tones; sage, tan, and other rich colors. A cherry wood hostess stand, currently abandoned, was to our right and to our left benches of similar wood took up the majority of the wall. An archway loomed before us, leading into the dining room, and I could see that about half of the small round tables and booths were occupied. The tables were draped with cloths of different lengths – in an array of strong jewel tones – and the chairs of dark wood were padded with gold cushions, and while it would have normally seemed awkward or clashed, it appeared to work. Cream walls with wood moldings in a rich caramel shade made a perfect backdrop to the array of colors provided by the tablecloths, baskets of hanging flowers, and abstract art scattered about the room.

Eric wrapped an arm about me as we waited for the hostess and I didn't mind one bit. The movement sent his scent billowing around me like a cloud and I took it in with a sigh. He smelt divine! Crisp and clean with undertones of some bitter herb and something that just said 'male' in my mind.

I peeked up at him and met his eyes, smiling shyly. "What is this place exactly?"

He chuckled. "It's complicated."

I snickered. "Do I want to know the story behind that answer or should I just ignore it?"

"I suppose I can tell you." He smirked. "Pam had dragged me shopping around the corner and while I was paying she went ahead to the next store. Next thing I know, she's screaming bloody murder. I run out ready to kill, only to find her standing over this guy while two girls – in leather pants, combat boots, spiked jewelry, and leather jackets – beat the hell out of him. He'd tried to mug Pam. She'd kicked him and then the two girls showed up and, their words, 'taught him his lesson'. After we dealt with the police report and what not the girls – sisters; Batanya and Clovache, started chatting with Pam and invited us here for dinner. Batanya is the elder, Clovache the younger, and this restaurant is theirs. It is one of my favorite places."

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Huh. Cool." I left it at that, leaning into him without thought, enjoying the way his arm tightened about me.

"Welcome! So sorry for the wait." A slightly heavyset older woman came our way, smiling as she reached for two menus.

"It is no problem." Eric smiled and I had to hide a giggle behind my hand as I watched the woman blink and shake herself a little. "Reservation for Northman."

"Wonderful," she crossed something out on the little pad behind the hostess stand and started back towards the dining room, "right this way, please."

We followed after her and it was a good thing Eric was still holding me, otherwise I would have been left behind as I gawked at the décor. A piano upon a small platform occupied one corner of the room and a small dance floor took up residence to it's side. Maybe we would have a chance to dance tonight?

The hostess seated us in a small booth, which was curved into a 'u' shape – probably meant to hold no more than three people - along the far wall and informed us that our server would be with us shortly. She left us with our menus to pursue our selections and only returned long enough to fill our water glasses before leaving once more.

Menus that apparently knew no bounds considering the wide array of dishes – some I'd never heard of and a few I couldn't pronounce.

"See anything you like?" Folding his menu, Eric watched me, a grin pulling at the edges of his lips.

"Yes, and then some." We shared a laugh. "What are you having?"

"Meat and potatoes; the Swedish man's staple." He gave me a wink and I felt a shiver race down my spine.

Hello libido, nice to meet you.

Distracting myself I flipped to the next page, finding something that sounded tasty. "Herb chicken with fettuccine Alfredo and grilled vegetables with honey glaze. I think I found a winner."

"A good choice." Eric and I both jumped a little, eyeballing the smiling young man standing at the edge of our table. He wore a gold shirt and black leather vest over dark dress pants and shoes. Leather? Huh, that was different. "I beg your pardon for the wait. My name is Godfrey; I'll be your server this evening."

I offered him a smile and Eric gave a nod as he gathered our menus and handed them off to Godfrey.

"Can I interest you in a bottle of wine to accompany dinner? Perhaps a soup, salad, or other appetizer to start you off?"

Eric looked to me. "Do you like wine?"

"It's alright, I suppose. I've only had it a few times."

"A bottle of the sweeter wine then, please." Eric tapped a long finger against the tabletop. "What are the house specials for starters tonight?"

"We have Italian wedding soup, a fresh spring salad with raspberry vinaigrette and toasted nuts, stuffed mushrooms, a brie bread wrap, or a 'party tray' of different finger foods."

I smiled when Eric's eyes lit up at the mention of 'raspberry vinaigrette'.

He turned his gaze my way. "Which would you like?"

"Soup, please."

Eric flicked his eyes towards our server. "One soup and one salad, please."

Godfrey scribbled on his pad. "Would you like to order your dinner now?"

"Yes. She will have the herb chicken with fettuccine Alfredo and vegetables, and I will have the porterhouse steak platter."

The last guy who had order for me got kicked in the shin – I told him what I wanted and he decided that I would eat something else because he didn't like mushrooms and ended up ordering a salad as my meal. He deserved that kick.

Eric earned brownie points for getting my order right and being polite about it.

"Excellent. I'll be right our with your starters and wine." He scurried off to drop our order and I tried to relax into the padded seat of the booth, stomach clenching with nerves.

"Did you have a good day?" Eric pulled off his jacket and laid it over the back of the booth. My mouth went dry. His shoulders and arms were built enough to pull slightly against the fabric of his shirt and I had to give myself a pinch under the table to bring my focus back.

"Yeah, it wasn't too busy. How about you?"

"It was good."

We were silent for a moment, both of us waiting for the other to speak. I had to break the silence.

"I am glad -"

"Thank you for -"

Eric and I started laughing as we cut each other off. As we calmed I felt the nerves leave me slowly.

"You first." He waved a hand my way.

"Alright. Thank you for inviting me out."

"I am glad you agreed. I wasn't sure you'd ever take me seriously if I had to beg." He waggled his eyebrows and I had to bite my lip not to say something suggestive.

He was just too tempting.

Godfrey swung by with our starters and wine and after filling our glasses, left just as quickly as he'd came.

Eric raised his glass and grinned. "To a good evening?"

"Yes," I raised my glass, touching it to his, "and new beginnings."

His smile was full of charm and heat and I was sure my legs were shaking, but we toasted none the less.

The wine was sweet and smooth; I had to remind myself to take it easy or I'd end up tipsy quickly. We turned our attention from each other long enough to sample our food; the soup was perfectly spiced and just cool enough to eat without risk of being scalded. Eric hummed a little as he munched on the leafy greens drizzled with the raspberry vinaigrette. It was cute.

After a few spoonfuls of soup I felt my stomach settle. I glanced up and caught Eric watching me; a blush spread over my cheeks. "Yes?"

"What is your job, exactly? I'm curious; your hours aren't the normal nine to five."

"I'm a waitress. I work at a bar and grille in Bon Temps." Anxiety crept into my chest. "Does that, uh, bother you?"

"Why would it?" He looked confused for a moment before understanding lit his eyes. "I own a bar – I am certified to be a bartender – so it matters little to me."

"Oh, okay, good." There had been a few guys who were turned off by my job because they didn't think 'proper' ladies should slings beers, but what do they know? A job is a job and money in the bank account for bills holds more weight to me than what anyone else thinks.

"Tell me about your family. I know that you have an elder brother – what of your parents?"

Ah, the family discussion. I dabbed at my lips with my napkin and decided to dive right in, but keep it as short as possible. "Jason is three years older than me – our parent's died in a flash flood when I was seven. Our gran, dad's mom, took us in. My grandfather died a few years before my parents, so it's just been us and Gran. I still live with Gran; to help out and keep close. What about you?"

He nodded, and there was something in his eyes when he spoke. "I am sorry for the loss of your loved ones." He took a sip of wine and licked his lips. "My parents divorced when I was three and mother remarried shortly after; Pam is four years younger than me. Mother passed away from breast cancer when I was seventeen. My father still lives in Sweden, but our relationship is," he seemed to cast about for a word, "strained."

I'd watched my aunt Linda, my dad's sister, waste away from breast cancer and I knew it was devastating to watch someone you love suffer and eventually pass. My hand snaked across the table and curled over his, squeezing gently. He seemed surprised, but understanding crossed his face when he looked at me. He lifted my hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across my knuckles and it felt like one of the most natural things in the world.

"Do not look so sad, Sookie. I did not mean for you to be upset."

"My aunt died from breast cancer. I've seen it and I know it doesn't change anything, but I'm sorry you lost her, especially like that."

He blinked and then smiled a small smile. "Past is past. Remembering her is enough." Godfrey was approaching with our meal so he released my hand after a final kiss. "Let's enjoy our dinner, yeah?"

Considering the large plates filled to the brim with food that Godfrey placed before us, I didn't think that would be too hard.

We dug in and I had a good internal chuckle from watching Eric eye me and lick his lips when I let loose a moan of appreciation. What can I say; I'm a woman who enjoys a good meal. Even if that meal liked my hips more than I wanted it to.

After a few bites Eric spoke up, curiosity seeming to get the better of him. "Did you attend college, Sookie?"

"No." I felt a small pang of regret, but pushed it aside. I had my whole life ahead of me and college didn't have an age limit, so I could always get around to it later. "After high school I was looking into going, but Gran got really sick and needed someone to care for her. I stayed with her and it just sort of went from there. I can go to college anytime, but I'll never be able to replace my time with Gran, you know?"

"That is true. She is important to you, so you must do what you feel is best. I am sure she is glad that you are with her."

"Let's hope so or I may be out of a place to sleep!" We shared a laugh, and I figured it was my turn to ask questions. "What did you go to college for?"

"Business, hospitality management; all the things needed to operate a client based public establishment." His shoulders rose in a half shrug. "You said you were looking into college at first – what degree did you want to go for?"

"Honestly there are two things I want to be; a preschool teacher and child psychologist. That way I could work either profession and have a better understanding of the children I work with."

Eric's face went slack for a moment before he shifted his gaze, staring down at his plate as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

I think I heard him mutter something along the lines of, 'fucking karma', but wasn't exactly sure. What the hell did karma have to do with his reaction?

Blowing out a hissed breath Eric raised his eyes to me, fidgeting slightly. "When we spoke in the bar, I was not completely honest with you."

I felt like someone had sucker punched me in the chest. I sat up a little, straightening my spine and with more calm than I felt asked, "About?"

If he had fidgeted before he practically squirmed now, eyes darting from my face to the table. "When I explained that I am not in a relationship."

My heart sank – painfully. I decided then and there that if he was married, I would never trust a man again; along with a note to start doing background checks. "You're seeing someone?"

"No!" He looked appalled that I'd even suggested it. "It is just, well, I wasn't completely honest because I did not tell you that I have children."

Children? A rush of relief washed over me and I slumped slightly, hand over my heart. "Oh, that's all?" I laughed a little shakily and he eyed me like I'd announced I was a telepathic fairy – without the wings and glitter.

"You are not upset with me?"

That confused me. "Why would I be? I mean, I'm kind of miffed that I wasn't told before now, but then again we never did talk seriously, even on Saturday when you asked me out. We only met Friday and frankly we were too busy flirting to get to the 'serious' topics of life, you know? You're twenty-eight and it's not surprising a man of your age has kids – I know men younger than you with kids. I didn't think to ask you about it and you certainly didn't ask me either." I saw the question in his expression and answered it before he could ask, "No, I'm not a mother."

Eric seemed a little dazed, but nodded. "Still, I am sorry that I didn't tell you earlier. I wasn't sure if you would be 'okay' with it."

"I take it you've been out with someone who wasn't?"

He rolled his eyes and actually scoffed. "Understatement, I assure you. Regardless, I am happy to be a father. My children are very important to me."

That made me smile. He looked a little nervous about my 'non-meltdown' reaction, but there was such a deep sincerity when he spoke about his kids.

"How many children do you have?"

"Two." A smiled bloomed on his lips and it was like I was suddenly looking at a different man. The smile was happy, his eyes somehow softer; like his whole energy changed. "They are twins; Alexander and Saga."

"Aww!" I think I heard my ovaries coo; he sounded so proud of them. "Those are cute names! How old are they?"

The tension drained from Eric's shoulders, his whole body relaxing, and I hid my smile by taking a sip of wine.

"Three; they'll be four in November."

It was already July – I'd turned twenty-two on the first, so that wasn't too far away.

"That's such a fun age! They just learn and change so much." I giggled. "I always loved babysitting for kids that age. They were always a blast to play with; so imaginative and curious."

Eric groaned, "You have no idea. It's always, 'daddy why this', or 'daddy why that'; how, why, when, and where. So many questions and so many opinions!"

I patted his hand. "The price you pay for cute things, huh?"

"I may be biased, but I think they're the best looking kids around." He dug out his wallet and flipped it open, pulling a small square of paper out, and then handed it to me. "This was from the fourth of July."

It was a close-up shot; Eric was smiling in the picture, mirrored on either side by a small face, both with wide smiles, bright blue eyes, and blond hair. All three of them were looking into the camera, faces pressed together. Talk about good genes – they were mini-Eric's; even the little girl!

They looked so happy together! I melted a little on the inside because you could tell they all adored each other. My uterus may have gave a girlish giggle, but I'm not sure.

I handed the picture back. "I'm sure you are, but it's okay, 'cause I agree with you."

He winked. "It's because they take after me."

"Just a little." A thought caught my attention and I had to ask, "You and their mother separated?"

"Not exactly. Aude, their mother, passed away from complications in childbirth." He put the picture back and tucked his wallet away, quiet as he nibbled at his food.

Well shit. Great job Stackhouse, alienate him and make him remember something that was traumatic. Fuck.

"I'm sorry for your loss." When in doubt, always apologize.

He nodded and shook himself lightly, looking up with a grin. "Don't look so distressed. We have much to celebrate."

"Oh, do we now?"

"Oh yes." He nodded for emphasis. "I told you about my children and you didn't throw your drink at me or storm out; it's a good sign, surely."

My mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"

He chuckled. "Very."

I couldn't think about that – I mean really, what kind of woman did that? - so I went back to my meal and Eric followed suit.

We conversed between bites, the general questions and answers about what we liked and didn't like, friends and family, hobbies and the what not. We even touched on the topic of behaviors of the first date. I was upfront when I told him I don't do one-night stands and he seemed fine with it. There were no awkward silences and I found that we had a similar sense of humor.

When I mentioned the name of his bar, Fangtasia, he admitted to his love of lame puns and that yes, he'd actually named the bar. I made fun of him for a good five minutes and he laughed the entire time, flashing a charming grin that did interesting things to my libido.

Godfrey swept by the table to remove our dishes and replaced them with a large platter covered in tiny desserts. Miniature flan, cheesecake, and crepes were surrounded by a scattering of petits fours, chocolate truffles, chocolate dipped strawberries, and little bowls of mixed berries sprinkled with sugar.

My waistline started sobbing.

"Compliments of Batanya and Clovache." Message given Godfrey wandered off.

Never one to waste a good dessert I plucked a dish of flan from the tray and grabbed a spoon, Eric opting to start with a small crepe covered in whipped cream. We ate a few selections each before Eric flagged Godfrey down for our check and he took our leftover desserts with him.

"So, are we splitting?"

Eric looked up from his wallet. "Splitting?"

"Yeah; I'm fine with paying my half of the bill." I drained the rest of my wine.

Eric's brows raised so high I wondered if they would go into his hairline. "No."

"No?"

"No." He nodded. "I will pay." I went to speak and he cut me off, gently. "I want to do this properly. I am paying because that is what a man does when he invites a woman out and it would be my pleasure to do so for you."

Well, what does a girl say to that?

"Thank you." I stood and excused myself to the ladies room, which was located off the side of the entryway, and he sent me off with a smile while he waited for our check.

When I came out Eric was waiting for me at the benches, jacket draped over his arm and a large decorated box with a ribbon in hand. He noticed me looking and smiled, lifting it slightly. "They packaged the rest of our treats."

"Ooh, good! Those are way too good to just waste."

"My sentiments exactly. Are you ready?"

"Yep!" I popped the 'p' a little and he wrapped his free arm about me, leading me outside and towards his awaiting car.

He helped me in again and then we were moving, slowly merging back into the busier sections of Shreveport.

"Are you up for something else?"

"Sure. What do you have in mind?" I was full and relaxed, and a very pretty song was playing in the background. A woman was crooning softly to a gentle strum of a guitar; I think it was a love song, but I couldn't be sure.

"There is a live band playing in the park. We can listen and walk, or dance if we want."

"Sounds good."

He grinned and shifted gears, maneuvering through the nighttime traffic while I settled back into my seat and let the music wash over me.


We had to park down the street; it was a little crowded, so Eric stowed my purse under the seat and locked the car up. Since it was warm out, with only a slight breeze, he'd left his jacket in the car and I could feel the heat of his skin through my dress when he wrapped his arm around me.

I think he was forming a habit.

The band was already playing and a large gathering had already formed. People wandered between the platform erected to act as a stage and the cleared area laid over with a portable dance floor, and congregated about the carts and tables set up for food and drink vendors.

"Dance with me?" Eric waggled his brows suggestively.

"Of course!" I unwrapped myself from his hold and grabbed his hand, practically dragging him onto the dance floor.

He caught my hips and pulled towards him until we were nearly touching. "That's better. I might loose you if you don't stay close."

"Well, we wouldn't want that, would we?" I bit my lip when he smirked and as the next song started up – a sort of pop version of 'Don't Fear The Reaper' – we began to dance.

Eric was just as graceful as I remembered and I was matching him move for move. We'd danced through at least six or seven songs when the tone of the music changed, and with it our mood.

Eric pulled me to him until we were flush together and I tangled my fingers in the collar of his shirt, biting my lips as I stared up at him. When I couldn't take heat building between us I spun around and danced, his hands trailing over my waist and hips, shuddering when I felt his erection press against me.

I felt an ache go through my entire body. In a move very similar to our dance at Fangtasia he leaned down, but instead of whispering in my ear, his lips pressed a kiss against my neck. I whimpered and arched into him, shifting my ass; a small groan escaped him.

"Face me." It wasn't a request, nor was it a demand - I did so without hesitation.

One of his legs slid between mine and I could feel his muscles flexing as he moved, pressing against the apex of my thighs. Each movement sent a spark of pleasure through me, leaving me wet and nearly lightheaded.

My hands hooked around his shoulders and he dipped his head, capturing my lips.

Oh my god.

His lips were velvet smooth and warm; gentle as they moved against my own, coaxing me to respond. His tongue swiped across the seam of my lips in a silent request and I parted them without thought.

Oh fuck. I'd thought his first kiss was good, but it paled in comparison to this. His tongue curled about my own, mapped the contours of my mouth; retreated and advanced; mocking the movements of our hips.

We parted, breathless, and had barely taken in a gasp of air before our lips met again, tongues twining. I had a niggling thought about the fact that we were in public and it was our first date, but quickly pushed it aside.

Propriety could fuck off for a night.

Eric pulled me tighter against him, as if he wanted to brand himself into my skin, sending shocks dancing down my spine. I moaned into our kiss, trembling from head to toe. His hand skimmed up my thigh, fingertips leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake.

He pulled away from me suddenly, licked his lips, and with a gentle tug led me away from the dance floor. We were silent as we walked down one of the many paved paths, hands linked, and I took the moment to get my breathing under control. My entire body was warm and I felt like all my nerves were bared and tingling.

We found a bench and settled on it; I had sat beside Eric, but he had other ideas. He pulled me onto his lap, sideways, so that my feet rested on the bench, and his hands captured my face. His hold was gentle and with a light tug he lifted my face to his, sealing our lips again.

I melted into him, turning so that I lay more against him, my arms wrapping around his neck. My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly. I pulled back to breathe and he followed my movement, nipping at my bottom lip gently.

"Ah," I gasped and he did it again, soothing the area with a lick of his tongue when I whined.

The way he kissed – you'd think any man would need a thousand years of practice to kiss like that. It was perfection; alternating between gentle and rough, deep and light, chaste and erotic – never too much of one and always what I wanted.

One hand was pressed against my back, steadying me, and the other was slowly running up my leg, from ankle to knee, and slowly moving its way up my thigh, sneaking under the edge of my dress.

I didn't stop him.

His seeking fingers met the edge of my hose and traced the end of my garter where it connected, and he stopped there, large hand wrapped around the soft flesh of my upper thigh.

He released my lips, breathing fast. "Garters?"

A blush scalded my cheeks, my voice lost, and I nodded.

"Oh fuck," He groaned and lay his forehead against mine, staring at me. His eyes were dark and hooded. A slew of whispered words escaped him and even though I didn't understand, the emotion behind them seemed to show favor to the garters.

Thank you Tara and Arlene. I needed to bake them a pie or something.

I moved for his lips, initiating this time, and he sighed into my mouth, allowing me to take control. I nibbled at his bottom lip and he hissed in surprise; I lathed it with my tongue to soothe the sting as he had for me, and he parted his lips for me without hesitation. I brushed his tongue with mine and he responded eagerly, thumb rubbing against my thigh, hips lifting against me almost pleadingly.

"Sookie," he breathed my name and I pulled back, watching him for a moment. He took a steadying breath. "If we don't stop, I'm going to want more than you might want to give."

"Oh." I was startled and embarrassment rose high. I'd never acted like this before – I'd never just made out with someone like this after one date. Good girls didn't do that. "I'm sorry." I wanted to melt into the ground and hide there till morning.

As if he could sense my rising panic Eric lifted his hands to my face, cupping my cheeks and tilting his head down until I met his eyes. "Why would you be sorry? I enjoyed that very much and so did you. We did nothing wrong and we stopped before it went anywhere serious." He leaned forward until our noses brushed, breath ghosting over my lips. "I do not regret anything, do you?"

"No." His eyes were hypnotizing and when he smiled I relaxed. We'd gotten a little carried away, but he was right, we didn't go too far.

If I was honest with myself, I probably wouldn't have stopped him even if it had. There was just something about him that made me want to throw caution and reason to the wind and follow my instincts.

The music that had been echoing in the darkness started to slow and a round of clapping brought us to full awareness. Eric rose, taking me with him, and gently deposited me on my feet. He slipped his cell from his pocket and checked the time.

"It is already ten. I should get you home."

"Yes, please." He took my hand, seemingly unsure if I'd want the contact, so I moved to his side and leaned into him. "I'm getting a little tired."

He didn't say anything, but that was alright seeing as he wrapped his arm about me and we strolled back towards the band, where they were currently giving their encore.

Eric steered me over to a booth not far from the stage and we waited in the short line. When it was our turn I finally realized what he was doing and grinned.

"Do you want one?" He selected a CD from the table and held it up for me to see.

"Yes, please."

He purchased two CDs, full of the songs the band had sung this evening that had been previously recorded, and then we were back on our way to the car. There were a lot of couples heading the same way, some laughing and others locked at the lips, and I peeked up at Eric. He was looking around, the arm locked about my waist pulling me closer as we passed stray groups of males, and I had to fight back a giggle. How nice would it be to be Eric's girlfriend?

I noticed a couple women eying Eric, mostly like he was a juicy steak and they were starving, and felt a small surge of wicked satisfaction.

Back off bitches – he's mine, even if it's just for tonight.

When we got into the car Eric handed me my CD and I tucked it into my purse so I wouldn't forget it. Eric reached over and took my hand once we were on the highway, placing a kiss on the back of it, eyes flicking my way before focusing on the road once more. He held my hand the entire way home, save for when he had to shift gears, and it felt good. Really good.

We pulled up to the house around eleven thirty; the porch light was on and a lamp was lit in the living-room, but otherwise the house was dark. Eric parked and cut the engine and we sat there for a moment, silence and darkness thick around us.

"Thank you Eric, I had a great time."

"As did I." He leaned over and I met him halfway; exchanging a chaste kiss. "Let me walk you to the door." He was out before I could agree, box of desserts in hand, and I shook my head with a little laugh. He was too cute.

My legs ached a little as we went up the few steps to the porch and I was more than ready to kick my heels off. I'd be feeling the burn tomorrow.

I dug my keys out of my purse and turned back to Eric. I wasn't exactly sure what to say, because damn it, those freaking butterflies were back, but he solved my problem with one move.

He kissed me again.

I was pretty positive that I'd never get tired of his kisses, and wondered if it would be safe to tell him to feel free to kiss me whenever the urge struck him. I'd be a happy girl, I'm sure.

My hands rose and my palms pressed against the exposed sliver of skin that I'd been dying to touch all night, and if felt like my hands were over an open flame. He was so warm; body firm and developed, and you could tell that he was strong enough to cause harm with those muscles of his, but he was gentle with me.

I shuddered when he pulled away, and if it hadn't been for his arms around me, my knees would have given out. I'd never had this kind of reaction to a man – not even my ex-boyfriend Bill, and he'd been the one to take my virginity.

"I will call you again, if that is alright?"

"I'd like that."

One of his hands rose to my face, fingers brushing against my cheek as they pushed a stray strand of hair aside. "God natt, Sookie."

I raised on my tip-toes, hands on Eric's shoulders for balance, to whisper in his ear. "Sov gott, Eric." I lowered just enough to give his lips a quick peck and turned back to my door, unlocking it and slipping inside.

He grinned and handed me the box of sweets through the door, surprising me, before practically swaggering off the porch, waiting until I'd shut the door before getting into his car. I watched from the side window as his headlights came on and he backed up, turned his car around, and drove off into the night.

I locked the door and turned, pressing my back against it, and rested there for a moment, eyes closed.

Best date ever!

First order of business; put the desserts away, so I wandered to the kitchen and tucked them into the fridge

I took my heels off and crept towards the bathroom. I had a date with a detachable shower head and then I'd go to bed.

I was wound tighter than a spring and if I didn't get off I wouldn't be able to sleep and I'd be a cranky bitch tomorrow. Just thinking about Eric was enough to send a shock of pleasure through my body and I had to stifle a whimper. I slipped into the bathroom, stripped to my birthday suit, and turned on the water.

Twenty or so minutes, and two orgasms later, I was dressed in a short and tank top pajama set, snuggled under the covers, whole body relaxed. I was out like a light by the time my head had settled on the pillow.

I had definitely needed that shower.


Translations:

Eric's whisper : So fucking sexy; god, to see you in those...

God natt – Good night

Sov gott – Sweet dreams

Tada! *jazz hands*

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