~~Chapter 21: Cowabunga~~

"My, my Miz Stackhouse, you look positively radiant," Lafayette's familiar voice calls from across the lobby. I look up from the stack of reservations I'd been going through to see him sauntering towards me in all his neon glory.

"Hey Laf," I say, setting the paperwork aside. I haven't seen him – or anyone really – since returning from Bon Temps. Between my late flight and my…well… lessons yesterday, there hasn't been much of a chance. And despite having two other people who do my exact same job, there was still a pile of paperwork waiting for me when I arrived at work this morning.

"I'd say you're glowing. Wouldn't you agree?" He looks over at Claudine for concurrence.

"Lit up like a Christmas tree," Claudine chimes in.

"I'm, um, just really excited to be back." My glow has nothing to do with the fact that I'd spent the entire day yesterday in Eric's bed. Absolutely not.

"I think that Sookie here thinks we was born yesterday," Lafayette says to Claudine.

"I would have to agree," Claudine replies. "The only thing that puts that kind of glow on a girl's face is a good fuck."

"Claudine!" I shriek, looking around the lobby to ensure that no one heard her.

"What?" she asks, all wide-eyed innocence.

"Sookie here don't want to admit she got laid."

I shake my head and let out an exasperated sigh. I am so not ready to have this conversation with anyone. There are some things that aren't meant to be shared with everyone, and I happen to think that my sex life is one of those.

I turn back and start to go through the details for an upcoming conference again.

"Oh," Lafayette hops up next to me on the concierge desk. "She's gonna ignore us. That's a sure sign of some good sexing."

I shut my eyes, willing them to go away. It doesn't work.

"I do so hope it was good," Claudine adds. "Was it good, Sookie? I can't imagine that it wouldn't be with the likes of Eric Northman."

"Not with the way that boy moves on that surfboard of his," Lafayette interjects. "He is welcome to ride the waves in my bed anytime he'd like."

"You two are terrible!"

"I thought we were loveable," Claudine says with a shrug.

"Hardly," I mumble.

"Do you deny that you got down and dirty with one Mr. Eric Northman?" Lafayette asks.

"None of your beeswax." Yes, I went there. I have reverted to being a six year old.

"So you's saying I didn't see you wrapped all up around Eric yesterday morning on the beach?" I groan. "There must be some other Swedish surfer God on the premises," he shrugs. "And he must have a little blonde girlfriend who likes public sex."

"We did not have sex in public!" I whisper harshly. That's the last rumor I want spreading around here. I can only imagine where Arlene would run with that.

"But you did have sex, right?" Claudine asks.

The blush rising up my chest hardly works in my favor for denial.

"I…uh…"

"You did!" she shrieks. "I knew it! What did I say? Guaranteed panty dropper."

"It wasn't like that!" I insist, positive that I'm going to melt at any minute now.

"Wasn't like what?" Laf asks, leaning back. "Wasn't a panty dropping experience?"

Technically it wasn't, as I had been wearing a bikini, but I wasn't about to split hairs over that.

"You make it sound like she's a slut, Laf," Claudine chastises. "And we all know that Sookie here is about the farthest thing from."

Laf shrugs and playfully slaps at his legs. "All us girls have got a little bit of hookah in us. You can't really blame the girl."

"Guys! I'm right here." I wave my hand, as if to announce my presence.

"Of course you is," Laf adds with a smile. "Now, tell us all about it, and don't you go skimping on any details. That blond surfer ain't never got down and dirty with the staff before."

I hadn't known that. Interesting, but something I am definitely not going to think about right now.

"Mind your own business, Lafayette. I'm not saying a stinking word about anything."

"Prude."

"He's right," Claudine interjects. "You are being a total spoilsport about this. If you wanted to know how, when and which way Alcide and I do things, I'd be the first to tell you."

"That's…nice?" I say, and start to pick at my fingernails. It's a nasty habit, but one I'm not going to kick anytime soon if they keep up with the twenty questions.

"My point," she continues, "is that we're open around here. Very open."

"I…I'm…" Saved by the phone! It rings once before I pick it up.

"Sookie?" Amelia's says on the other end. "Can you come in here?"

"Sure," I reply, looking at the phone suspiciously before hanging up. I smile and shrug at my inquisitors. "Looks like I've got to go."

"Oh, is lover boy calling you?"

I shake my head and groan. "No. Work matters," I turn around to head towards the suite of offices behind the reception desk.

"This ain't over sweet thang," Laf calls as I scurry towards Amelia's doorway, and I know it isn't.

However, I hadn't planned on leaving one set of questions for another.

Amelia is sitting at her desk, her black rimmed "business" glasses perched on the bridge of her nose as she checks her email.

"Close the door," she says, without looking up when I enter. I swear she has a sixth sense when it comes to me sometimes. I do as she asks and sit down on the white loveseat and wait for her to finish her email.

"So," she says, turning to face me. A massive smile breaks out across her face as she scans me from head to toe. "Tell me all about it."

"All about what?" I hope my stupid shtick works. It doesn't.

"Sookie Stackhouse," she clucks her tongue and shakes her head, "I have been your best friend for what? Six or seven years now?" I nod. "You really think you can stay out all day and all night and pretend nothing happened?"

I sigh and sink back against the cushions of the loveseat. I had known Amelia would question me eventually about my absence, but I had thought I would at least have until tonight after work.

"I was going to tell you."

"When? Next year?" She stands up and walks around the large desk, seating herself next to me.

"You know how I am about these things, Ames," I say with a shrug, avoiding looking her in the eyes. "I…"

"Got down and dirty with the resident bad boy?" she chuckles. "It's about damn time."

"Amelia!"

"What? I've been telling you for weeks to just get it over with."

"I…"

"How was it?" She is practically bouncing in her seat with excitement.

"I…"

"I'm surprised you can walk today. From what I've heard – and seen, because let's face it, those board shorts do not hide anything – Eric Northman's feet aren't the only big thing on him."

I know I've blushed to the color of a ripe tomato without having to look in the mirror. The size of Eric's…ahem… junk is not a topic of discussion I thought I'd be having. Of course I now know that I was being delusional; I should know by now that Amelia – Queen of sharing her sex life – has no shame.

"Come on!" she demands. "Tell me all about it."

"Amelia," I start, "when have I ever told you anything about that arena of my life?"

"You told me Quinn was good and Bill wasn't."

"Only after I had broken up with them," I point out.

"But it's a new you, right? A new, liberated you. I mean, Old Sookie wouldn't have gone near a specimen like Eric Northman with a ten-foot pole. Oh… ten-foot pole," she laughs, "ouch."

"Amelia!"

"You're no fun," she pouts. "Tell me something; anything!"

"No."

"You did have sex with him though, right?"

"Erm… yes." It's not like she won't figure it out anyway. And while I don't particularly care to share the play-by-play of the night with anyone, it's not like it hurts to admit it. Especially to Amelia, who has been nothing if not entirely engrossed in my possible sexcapades with Eric.

I smile to myself as I recall exactly what those sexcapades had entailed. Eric certainly knows what he's doing in that arena.

"Hallelujah!" she shrieks. "When are you going to do it again?"

"Geez. Nosy McNoserson! It's not like we planned anything."

"Why not?" she asks, sounding practical. "Pam and I always have something planned. Now, usually we don't make it until then. It is really hard to keep my hands off of her perfect brea-"

"Amelia!" I shriek, covering my ears with my hands. I know it happens; I'd be deaf and blind not to. However, I still have no interest in hearing all the details.

"You are such a prude," she chastises. "One of these days you're going to spill; I just know it. There's no way you can sex a Northman and keep your mouth shut. Please tell me that you are seeing him again after work?"

I shrug.

"You are," she nods. "Good. His place, or ours?"

"How is that any of your business?"

"I live with you silly. Besides, unless you want to have a competition for which Northman can make us scream louder, I was thinking I'd steer Pam in the other direction. She's terribly competitive about most everything; I can only imagine what she'd do in that situation."

"Oh." She has a point. I can just picture how that little scene would play out – Amelia grunting and screaming, and me burrowed in a corner trying to cover my ears. Yes, best to stay away from Pam when it comes to these types of things. I'd been fortunate yesterday and was leaving by the time Pam was pulling into the driveway. Granted, I'd planned on leaving a lot earlier, but Eric has ways of persuading me to stay that aren't polite to mention.

"Exactly. So… where's it gonna be?"

"He said he'd come over after he got off," I bite my lower lip. "I don't know what he has planned after that though."

"So our house?"

"I don't know. I suppose so."

"Make it our house," Amelia says.

"He might be planning to take me back to his place."

"I'm sure you can come up with a way of convincing him to stay put. Just wear something skimpy."

…

The doorbell rings at exactly 5:15. I have been home for a little over an hour, just enough time to take a quick shower and wash the grime from the workday off of me. I don't fool myself into thinking that tonight won't end with a repeat of last night, and I want to smell as nice as possible.

Eric looks ridiculously good standing on the other side of the door, his aviator sunglasses blocking his eyes as I look up at him, but they do nothing to hide the lopsided smile he gives me when I open the door.

"Hello lover," he says, dipping his head down to brush his lips across mine. His hands quickly find the curve of my waist, pulling me towards him so he can deepen the kiss. I sink into the taste of his mouth, almost instantaneously forgetting that we are standing in public view.

"Now that," he says, brushing his lips against mine again, "is something I could get used to coming home to every night."

He jovially wraps his arm around my shoulders and leads me inside the house, kicking the door shut behind us and directing me towards the living room and the large couch dominating the room.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you today," he says, sitting down and pulling me towards him until I am standing between his legs, his eyes level with my belly button.

"Yeah?" I ask with a giggle. Me. Giggling. Old Sookie would smack a giggler; New Sookie has joined the ranks willingly.

"Yeah," he mirrors, with a solemn nod. His fingers brush the top of my jeans, dancing across the sensitive skin just above. "You were the first thing I thought about when I woke up." I know the feeling. "Do you want to know what I thought?"

"I'm not sure," I reply with a smirk. I'm fairly sure I do if it is anything related to what I want him to do to me right now. "Do I?"

"I think you do."

"What?" I am already breathless from the way his fingers are snaking their way up under my shirt. His hand stills when he reaches the underwire of my bra – a bra I had picked out carefully, mind you. Just as I had wanted to freshen up, I wasn't about to be unprepared with my industrial work undergarments.

"I thought about how much I would've liked to wake up with you next to me." His hands resume their journey north, his large fingers cupping the lace covering my breasts. "I thought about taking you back into that shower." I feel my knees begin to give out and shake my head to force myself to concentrate on staying upright.

"Only," his other hand pushes the hem of my shirt up, revealing the way he's cupping me. I lift my arms up without thought, helping dispose of the unwanted shirt and not particularly caring where it lands when I throw it over my head. "Instead of getting out and drying off, I thought about pressing you right up against the cold tile."

"Oh!" I moan breathily, both at his words and the way his mouth feels when it latches onto the skin above my belly button. There is no chance whatsoever that I am able to stand up on my own, and somewhere my brain registers that Eric's hands catch me when I begin to fall into him.

"Mmm," he says, shifting our bodies until he is hovering over me, my back pressed against the cushions. "It certainly made taking a shower rather…hard."

"I can imagine." His lips go to work on the side of my neck as his hands toy with my exposed skin. I reach towards him and tug at his t-shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine. His shirt disappears, and I think I hear a muffled tearing noise, but frankly don't have time to figure out what that means with the way he's making me feel.

His skin is hot under my fingers, sticky from the humidity outside as I run my hands over his back.

"Where's Amelia?" he asks, sitting me up and unhooking my bra with a flick of his wrist.

"What?" I pant.

"Where's Amelia?" he repeats, his hands guiding the straps of the black garment over my shoulders and arms, leaving me bare to his gaze.

"She's…" He guides me back down before I can complete my sentence. He dips his head to drag open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone, trailing down towards the tips of my bared breasts. "She's…"

"She's where?" he asks, pulling his lips from my skin and looking up at me with a smirk.

"She's at your house," I manage to eke out. He rewards me by resuming his kisses on my breasts.

"Why?" I ask. As if it matters. She's not here, and Eric has his mouth on my naked body; at this point, nothing else matters at all.

"Because," he responds, making his way back up to my face, stopping when his lips are near my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. "There are things I want to do to you."

"Yeah?" I squeak. My breathing has increased to a frenzied pace, and I have no chance of controlling it when his hands pop the fly of my jeans open.

"Yeah," he replies, easing the denim and lace underneath down over my hips and legs. "And I don't think I can make it off this couch before doing them."

…

Later, we lay in a mass of sweaty limbs on top of my bed, pillows strewn everywhere. We had made our haphazard journey from the couch – stopping for a brief interlude that involved the wall in the hallway – and came to finish in my bedroom. My head rests on the heated skin of his chest as I listen to his heartbeat slow down to a resting rate. His hand skims my spine lazily, his touch both exciting and comforting.

"I suppose now's the time where I should ask you how your day was."

I chuckle and bury my face against his chest before propping myself up on my elbow to look at him. "I think it's a little late for that. That's more of a first five minutes kind of question."

He smiles at me, his blue eyes hooded as he takes me in. "What can I say? I had other matters to see to that were more…pressing."

"I can see that."

"I didn't think you'd mind."

"I didn't!" I insist. "Seeing to pressing matters is much more important than inquiring about my day."

"I'm glad we see eye to eye. At least most of the time."

I shiver involuntarily as the air conditioning kicks on; somehow lying naked on top of the covers had seemed like such a good idea.

"Come here," he shifts his hips upward and pulls the down comforter from beneath him. He effortlessly picks me up and tucks me under, climbing in beside me and pulling me fully against him. "I have to say that you can't knock going to sleep like this."

"Mmmm," I burrow myself into his side. "Me too."

After a moment of silence, he starts. "How was your day though? First day back and all that?"

"It was fine." I try to push back the way I'd felt when everyone was looking at me knowingly. "Lots to catch up on after being gone."

"I can imagine." He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. "Did anyone…say anything?"

"About what?" I ask, stiffening against him. It was bad enough when I thought they had only hounded me. If they'd said something to Eric? I'd just die.

"I don't know… Lafayette came down to the shack and was talking about seeing some action on the beach and –"

"That little snake!" I shriek, sitting up. "I told him to mind his own business, and he went down and tried to get the details out of you?"

Eric laughs and pulls me back towards him. "I didn't say anything."

"Of course you didn't." Of course he didn't.

"I was a bit surprised when he asked me though," he continues. "I didn't think there was anyone else on the beach that morning. Not that it would have stopped me from kissing you like that."

Good to know.

"I know that they're going to talk. It's the nature of the business. But…I'd rather not have to deal with them knowing."

"They're going to know, Sookie," Eric says. "Even if we don't say anything, they're going to know by the way I look at you; the way you look at me back."

I feel my skin grow hot; even hotter than it is just being pressed against him. "Do you think it's that obvious?"

"Sookie," he pulls me towards him until I am nearly lying on top of him. "I had a hard time not dragging you into the linen closet before I saw you naked; now I'm going to have a hard time keeping my hands off you period. I think they'll know."

"Oh."

"Yes," he chuckles. "Oh."

"So you're telling me to steer clear of linen closets?" I ask with a giggle that quickly turns into something else when he kisses my neck.

"Not at all." He lifts his head up to kiss the tip of my nose. "In fact, I'd say I'm advising you to be near a linen closet at all times."

"Is that so?" I ask, trying to be coy as his lips cover the skin of my neck.

"Mmm. Unless you'd prefer me to do this on the concierge desk."

"Do what?"

"Let me demonstrate."

AN: I want to thank everyone for continuing to read about the Surfer and Sookie. I cannot express how lovely it is as an "author" to know that there are people out there who are enjoying the story that I have created. And thanks again to pfloogs72 for pre-reading - go read her Life Imitating Art!

I know that there are some of you out there that would like to see more detail on certain things; all I can say to you is that things aren't going to change for the Surfer. I appreciate if you continue to read this, but also understand if this is your last stop for this story. This is a wonderful community, and there are literally thousands of stories out there that run the gamut on that front and can meet all your needs.

Thanks again for everyone who has stuck with this story. I hope you enjoy riding the wave all the way into the shore with Surfer Eric and his Beach Bunny Sookie :D

Don't forget to write your entry for the Saint Eric fic, where you can point out all of Eric's wonderful qualities and demonize the heck out of Sookie. Gosh; you'd think it was the Sookie Stackhouse Mysteries and not the Eric Northman Files. Details located on the ~SaintEric fanfiction page.