AN: As always, Charlaine Harris can take possession any time she pleases. Sookie and Eric are her babies. And wasn't she just so cute at ? I was very glad to see her sitting in the middle of the panel participants, enjoying it all.

I have many more chapters to write. Thanks for your comments; I really enjoy reading your reactions. This chapter is again a SPOV.

San Francisco c. 1978 Part II

Two days later I was sunning alone in a new tiger-striped bikini by the pool at the Willows Historic Palm Springs Inn. We had plans to visit the Art Museum later in the day. I hoped we could make the visit a brief one. I would not willingly squander the thrilling physical intensity we were experiencing during what was certain to be a brief honeymoon period for us. Real life always had a way of intruding when it came to my happiness.

Point in fact; I still had one end of term graduate school obligation. Although I had completed all coursework and testing, I was minus a required presentation for Marketing III. Failing to appear would severely impact my grade and potentially my ranking. My number two position was critical to the quality of my job offers and ultimately my long-term career in the financial world where I planned to excel.

I made the phone call to my advisor. "Carl, I need an extension. I just married Sven and we are taking a few days. I'll come in any time next week to make the presentation to you and Ted."

It was a no go. He was a nasty man who possibly did not like women. I was curtly informed I would receive an 'incomplete' for the coursework if I did not schedule the presentation before the holiday vacation term. Consequently, we were going to be returning in two days rather than staying the full week at the resort. We'd been able to squeeze another day in by having Sven's car driven back to Woodside for us. I wasn't looking forward to taking a plane out of the regional Airport, but I swallowed my fears and other things when I thanked Sven in his favorite way for his thoughtful planning to accommodate my schedule.

Sven also was busy, back in our suite working the phone and re-scheduling appointments. He had been a little frantic this morning as his assistant began calling the room with all sorts of Monday morning queries only Sven could answer. I teased him about being a Type A workaholic, but left him alone so he could his business get back on track while I waited for him at the pool.

It was quiet and I found myself rehashing the phone call with my mom yesterday. Was it unsettling, or just embarrassing? I was glad Sven was in the bathroom and had not heard my side of it.

"Mom? Sookie. Did you receive my message? I'm married now. Remember that guy a few years ago at the Lake over the Fourth of July….?"

She had cut me off excitedly. "Oh Sookie, I'm so glad. I do remember Eric. I always hoped the two of you would find each other again." She actually squealed. "I cannot wait to see you both together. I'll have such beautiful grandchildren. I just knew it was love at first sight between you two. I remember when he came up the cove in that white boat and saw you on the dock in your little bikini…."

I finally was able to cut her off as she took a breath. "Mom, stop. Actually I am married to his brother, his twin brother, Sven Nordmon. We met again here in San Francisco several months ago when I was interviewing for a summer job. I know you and I haven't spoken a lot recently. I'm sorry for that. "I paused and took in the silence from the other side.

"Please be happy for me. I have fallen for Sven. We were married yesterday in Las Vegas. Jason and Dad know I have been spending time with him." I hesitated. This was more difficult than I'd envisioned.

"His twin brother? Is he an identical twin? Where is Eric? Does he know you are married to his brother?"

I rather grimly proceeded to tell my mother the specifics of Eric's current existence as I knew them. I told her in more detail of the coincidence of meeting Sven, and the immediate attraction we both felt. I emphasized that he worked in the same industry I was preparing to join. We had so much in common.

She tried to recover by asking about his other family. Did I like them, did they like me? Where did they live?

I admitted I had not met them. The silence from her was longer this time.

"Well, will you bring Sven back to meet us for the holidays? I'm sure he is as nice as Eric is…err….was, and we would love to welcome him to the family. I will invite Jason and his latest girlfriend Cindy for dinner. And you'll want to introduce him to your Dad and Kathy, right?"

"Mom, I'm sorry but I believe we will be staying this holiday in Northern California with his family." Again, a long silence ensues. I know what she is thinking.

"Yes, it is true that I will see Eric in Napa. Not a problem. He and his wife have been happily married for several years. There will be no drama." I hope I am telling the truth..

"Why don't Sven and I plan to fly in to see you for our family celebration during the spring? I will have some free time between quarters. I know you will love Sven as much as I do. He is a very generous spirit and quite charming." I finish on what I hope is a high note.

The remainder of the conversation is subdued. I have the distinct impression my Mom is disappointed with me. Did she harbor the notion that I had focused my entire academic career on finding a way to get to the Coast in hopes of running into Eric again some day? That would be really pathetic….

Sven plops down beside me. His casual look is still very formal for poolside and I frown slightly at him without realizing I am doing so. His long, dry fingers reach up to smooth the line on my forehead and his kiss is passionate and hungry. I get the message and am eager to return to the room with him, but first must ask him a question. (Fingers crossed that I like the answer.)

"Have you told your parents you will be bringing your new wife home with you this Christmas? We should plan on leaving immediately after my marketing presentation to Ted if we are going to have a few days before Eric and Selah arrive."

He mumbles his response, but I believe he says "We won't spend Christmas in Napa this year. We are going to Barbados for a proper secluded honeymoon instead."

A Caribbean honeymoon is such a cliché, but as visions of swimming naked in the warm waters under a starry night with Sven followed up by hours of steamy sex on ironed cotton sheets with an insatiable husband assail me, I reward him with the affectionate response he is hoping to receive. We are alone by the pool, and he responds in kind, unhooking my top and lowering his mouth to nip the skin on my breasts and run his tongue over my nipples, teasing me as he divides his attention between both of my breasts. I groan, twisting my hips beneath him and he laughs and picks me up to carry me back to our room. I don't care for being carried, but these are special times and it does make kissing much easier.

In the back of my mind, though, I wonder when he was planning on telling me about cancelling Napa. Looks like I won't be seeing Eric anytime soon. I feel relieved, as though I have dodged a bullet.

As we make our way to the room through the stone corridors, passing under the purple wisteria vine arbors, I resolve to offer myself to him the way he has been suggesting we do when I am ready. I trust him completely, smitten as I am by the unexpected turn of events leading to this moment.

If he seeks confirmation of my feelings for him, this will do it. He always begs for surrender from me. In turn, I want the feeling of surrendering to him. I will let him teach me. It will make both Sven and I very pleased with one another.

The room is cool and dark. Sven has bought some amber-scented candles in my absence, I notice. I move to light several at the foot of the bed and by the headboard. They create the mood we need to share this ritual. The room itself is a swirl of various shades of gold, black and crimson, a room designed for a sensuous retreat or doing something naughty during a weeknight. The drapes are closed and the phone has been disconnected from the wall. Yum.

"I'd like to clean up a bit after sitting in the sun", and he nods in agreement. I don't bother to grab my robe.

Alone in the bathroom I prep myself for him. We have discussed it many times before this trip. Sven always carries a small glass jar of scented oil in his travel bags. I find it and lift the lid to examine it now. It should work.

I'm nervous but ready when I exit the bathroom, a thick crimson towel draped around my hips, my breasts glowing in the candlelight from the edible oil I massaged into my skin. My lovely new husband has stripped and is reclining on the bed, the sheets neatly folded down. As a humorous note, he has tied a thin red ribbon around his shaft, with a bow no less. He likes being tied up in all sorts of ways and I always indulge him in this desire. I like it as much as he does.

My reaction to his invitation is to bend over the bed and untie my package. His hands are in my hair, running his fingers out to the ends and then moving back to my head to do it again and again. I shake my head and rub my breasts against his chest, then gently push him back against the pillows. In a brief moment of clarity I notice he has left the radio tuned to a jazz station and Gil Scott Heron's 'Johannesburg' is incongruously playing softly in the background My attention is snapped back to Sven as he roughly whips the towel from my hips, settling his fingers between my legs to begin what he refers to as 'tuning movements'. He has already told me the story behind the shape of the violin, and true or not I don't care just this minute. I begin by taking him fully in my mouth. This is his preferred way of beginning our lovemaking sessions and I am always happy to comply.

Every woman knows it is a heady rush of power to take a man's most private sensitive appendage in your mouth, between your teeth. The trust he places in you when he does so is an aphrodisiac in itself. You have him completely at your mercy. I have shared this thought with Sven on more than one occasion. He finally admits it could be interpreted as a form of surrender, and that idea has infused our actions with a little extra frisson. He never knows when I will choose to use my teeth and run them lightly over his sensitive skin, just that I always will, sometimes more painfully than others. That sense of uncertainty now heightens his pleasure sensors.

He stops before he can fully release. He pulls my hair to the side and twists my head to raise me to his mouth. He runs his tongue over my lips before plunging it inside to thoroughly clean the inside of my mouth, harshly licking his leaked juices from every crevice. Again, it is another ritual we have developed and perfected for maximum pleasure that excites us both.

I pause and allow all the love I am feeling for him to bubble up and show in my face. He watches me intently and I can see the impact of my feelings wash over him as well. He responds by showing me a naked, yearning face that I have not seen. It is Sven at his most vulnerable. I cannot see this dear face and ever imagine that I would do anything to hurt or worry him. In this perfect moment of sharing, I whisper to him that I am ready to offer myself to him completely. I make a small act of formally presenting him with the jar of oil, taking it from the floor and offering it to him while holding it cupped in my palms. I am rewarded with a dark look of eager joy as desire flares in his eyes. He says the words that we both know at that moment are inadequate for this time and place: "I do love you, Sookie Nordmon. More than you can know."

And then it begins.

AN: I'll continue this chapter later. Eric demands to tell his side of the story.

BTW, it seems I only catch the horrible spelling and grammar errors AFTER I have submitted. Gremlins, gremlins, come out to play.