A/N: I have edited and re-edited and re-re-edited, but I'll be honest- I kind of think I did a crappy job on this chapter. So reviews (good or bad) would be greatly appreciated.
In an unrelated story, it's 5:41pm and OU still sucks. Hook 'em horns!!!!
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Eric POV
This girl was going to be the fucking death of me. And probably in the most literal sense.
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Sookie POV
Bayou Noir wasn't actually a black swamp, but a club on the outskirts of Bon Temps that the seniors had rented for our traditional, annual Halloween Par-tay. As I drove up, still contemplating Eric's possible responses to my plan, I distractedly noticed the parking lot was packed. When I first walked inside, I paused for a moment to look around. The club was pitch black, and thumping with loud music. I recognized an oldie but a goodie blasting through the speakers (Lil' Jon & the Eastside Boyz' Get Low). The dance floor was illuminated only by a few flashing lights, which gave the entire place a surreal feeling. Almost everyone was dancing, and although it was a school-sponsored event and about four in the PM, the distinct scent of alcohol was definitely on the breaths of more than a few raucous individuals. (And since our football team had an "off-week," their members and fans were certainly doing their share of partaking in the imbibing.) The general feeling, in true Southern fashion, was that it was five o'clock somewhere...and if you were big enough to reach the bar, you were old enough to consume its contents.
I saw all kinds of costumes, ranging from supernatural beings (witches, ghosts, devils, etc.) to classic get-ups (pirates, animals, Disney characters, superheroes, etc.). Even a few of the teachers had dressed up and were dancing- but with each other, of course; no teacher/student hankie-pankie going on here, no siree, I thought somewhat ironically.
The mood was so festive that the students didn't seem to mind the presence of the teachers; on the contrary, it amused them to no end. My upper lip curled with distaste as I spotted Coach Quinn leaning against a far wall, sans costume, with his disgusting leer focused on a group of cheerleaders.
Just then someone else caught my eye: Pam Ravenscroft's costume was a startling deviation from her usual conservative, pastel outfits. She was dressed in a rather form-fitting, low-cut, black gown and I thought I detected some sharpened canines. With her pouty red lips, bright blonde hair, and seductive stance, she looked like the love child of Alice in Wonderland and Vampira; I was a little surprised that I had even been able to recognize her. She noticed me giving her the once-over, and smiled brightly in response, revealing perfectly white teeth and those creepy/awesome fake fangs. I responded with an uneasy smile of my own; I was experiencing an odd sense of déjà vu and, for second, those vampire fangs seemed disturbingly familiar.
I forced myself to break eye contact and I shoved my hands into my trench coat pockets, trying to look casual while actually searching intently for Eric. Eventually though, it was Sam Merlotte who found me, and I wanted to slap my hand to my forehead when I remembered my stupid, impulsive decision to agree to come here "with him." He smiled kindly, almost naively, and my annoyance was tinged with guilt. Sam was the stereotypical nice-guy who would always finish last, and I felt bad for leading him on to think that the result of this situation would be any different.
He asked me to dance, rather shyly, and I suppressed the urge to run away. Instead, I smiled tightly and consented. He maintained a large void between us, as if we were dancing in Victorian-era England, and again I was inundated with a mixture of guilt and irritation.
But my train of thought ran right off the tracks and into a steep embankment, before bursting into a big, twisted, flaming pile of wreckage when I saw a large black cowboy hat. I lowered my gaze and met Eric's eyes. They weren't flashing with unrestrained anger or jealousy...instead, they were distant with an epic, absolutely glacial fury. Even from my place on the dance floor, I could read his tense, rigid body language and feel the rage radiating from his entire being.
Sam tried to gently nudge me closer to his own body, but I stubbornly held my position. I craned my neck slightly to follow Eric's movement toward...dammit, Sam, get outta my way...Ms. Ravenscroft.
He spoke to her briefly but agitatedly, and her cool response, whatever it might have been, seemed to relax him a little. I tried not to stare at them when they turned and considered me simultaneously. I even pulled Sam a little closer (to his delight) so that I could see them in my peripheral vision over his shoulder; I hoped I looked natural and unaware of their exchange, but inside I was a shaky mess.
I had thought (well okay, twist my arm, I had hoped) that maybe Eric would be dark and brooding while he was thinking of ways to get me back. Or at least jealous (okay, insanely jealous). But that frighteningly controlled anger made me think he was about to do something totally unpredictable, and I just knew it would be something I wouldn't like. My hands, which were clasped loosely around Sam's neck, tapped out an uneven rhythm on his back and I fidgeted uneasily as Eric continued to stare at me.
But in the next second, he was smiling at something Ms. Ravenscroft had said. I felt the tiniest flicker of jealousy myself. But really, there was no harm there, no cause for alarm- they were just friends, right?
At that exact moment, Eric removed his cowboy hat and valiantly held it to his chest as he bent down to kiss her lips.
I wanted to vomit.
Instead, I abruptly pulled away from Sam and blurted out, "Sam, I think you're a really great guy, but I'm sorry, I'm just getting out of a relationship and this really isn't a good time for me."
His disappointment (and obtuseness) was evident as he responded, "Sookie, why didn't you tell me this before? I don't mind giving you some time if you think-"
Trying for a gentle tone but settling for a less than gracious one, I interrupted him.
"No, Sam, it's not only that...I'm just not interested in you in a romantic way. I'm sorry for leading you on. You're a true gentleman, and I hope we can still be friends. Please forgive me?" I raised my voice indelicately over the pounding bass. I felt guilty for misleading him, but at the moment, I honestly couldn't give a damn whether or not he forgave me. I needed to get away from here as quickly as possible, before I collapsed into a big, giant emotional puddle in the middle of the floor.
He sighed heavily (and a little melodramatically, I thought contemptuously) before nodding his head.
I hugged Sam with relief. After I'd hastily extracted myself, I hardly knew what to do next. I tried my best to keep it together as I headed for the door.
Escape was the best option, I told myself weakly. After all, were there really any other ones?
I pushed through the crowd to open the club door and headed to my car. I yanked open the door, plopped myself in the seat, and slammed the door shut. I placed my hands on the wheel and stared straight ahead, but saw nothing.
My mind continuously, relentlessly, mercilessly replayed the moment when Eric had kissed Pam.
I lost him, I lamented, feeling utterly wretched and bewildered. My plan was stupid, it didn't work, it only pushed him further away...
What kind of person had I become, that I would exploit his vulnerabilities in such a malicious way, for my own personal gain? No matter how much Eric's rejection had hurt, I never should have taken such direct aim at his Achilles' heel. What the hell had happened to me?
My heart was heavy; the soul-crushing sensation extended into my arms. They dropped away from the wheel, falling to my sides as I began to weep uncontrollably. I hung my head helplessly as the tears cascaded down my cheeks; I couldn't do anything except allow them to fall.
A sharp rap on my car window startled me out of my pity-party and with great effort I forced my hands to clumsily wipe away my tears before I lowered my window.
Eric's long, lean frame was resting against the car next to me, and his hand held his cowboy hat against his side.
Those cold, glittering sapphires studied my reddened, bleary eyes before he inquired venomously, "How does it feel to be on the receiving end of that bullshit? I'm curious, as I've never inflicted it before."
Another hot tear rolled down my cheek as I realized that little scene had been conducted solely for my benefit.
"It hurts like hell."
He nodded once, stiffly.
"Meet me at my house. We have much to discuss."
***********
With great shame, I slunk into his house and timidly perched on the couch. He entered the living room in the next moment. He sat down rigidly, and turned towards me before he spoke.
"Sookie, regardless of whether or not we continue this relationship, you have to grow the fuck up."
His harsh words made me feel a pitiful shallowness and a desperate hopefulness in the same moment.
He continued in the same direct tone.
"I will not indulge you, Sookie. I will not play games with you, and I cannot respect you if you continue to play them with me."
I remorsefully choked out an apology.
"I'm sorry, Eric, please forgive me. Sam means nothing...I was only trying to get you to notice...I just, I didn't know why..." I took a huge breath and tried to hold back the tears that threatened to burst forth, "I didn't understand why you broke up with me."
I searched his deep blue eyes, pathetically imploring and begging him to accept me.
"What did I do wrong, Eric? Please, I can fix it, I swear....just give me a chance, please, I can...I just..." I was gasping for breath over and over and over again, almost hyperventilating, "I wish...I don't understand...why am I not enough? Why...?"
I couldn't hold back my tears any longer, and they flooded my eyes as I gave into sobbing. I covered my face with my hands and my shoulders heaved with the impact of my grief.
His once flat expression became panic-stricken as he pulled me into his lap and embraced me tightly. I continued to sob against him, unable to control myself. He murmured reassuringly, stroking my hair gently as he tried to soothe me.
"Sookie, lover, it isn't your fault. You have done absolutely nothing wrong. I let you go because I love you. I'm worried about you- your future, and yes, mine too, could be ruined by the discovery of our relationship. Oh, Susannah, my darling, please don't cry."
He continued to rub his large hands on my back in comforting circles until my sobs had subsided. Finally, I pulled away and tried to wipe away my tears, but Eric wouldn't allow it. Instead, his thumbs tenderly did it for me as he stared into my eyes for a long moment. He seemed to be waging a battle internally, but it was obvious which side won as he drew me to him, and leaned down to kiss me.
His lips were passionate and desperate as they melded against mine. He clung to me like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline. I responded just as eagerly, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck and moving instinctively to straddle him; a week without this physical contact had seemed like a century to my love-sick heart. We worked on shedding our clothing, and his normally confident hands were trembling as he tried to undo my belt. He cursed in his native language, frustrated, so I hastily untied it for him and after shrugging out of it, I threw it on the floor behind me. While his hands blissfully roamed my naked body, he murmured against my lips in between our kisses, "God...I'm an idiot, I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I love you, Sookie, oh God...please forgive me."
My body responded with the same intensity and I ground against him, but through my lust-filled haze, I knew that I had to take a stand. So eventually, and very reluctantly, I withdrew from his embrace.
Cupping his face in my hands, I grasped at some semblance of control and said seriously, "I'm sorry for how I reacted, but you can't ever do that again, Eric." He nodded his understanding and moved to kiss me again, but I stopped him.
"We're in this together. I love you, but what you did, Eric...it nearly destroyed me. There won't be another chance for reconciliation. This is it. The next time you get it into your head that you know what is best for me, what is best for us, and make a life-altering decision based on that idiotic high-handedness, I. Will. Leave. You. And you won't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting me back."
Again, his lips covered mine in an earnest apology. He placed one large hand on my neck and was massaging it lightly. And hoping that I had finally made my point, I felt I could freely yield to him.
It was heaven. To be in his arms, pressed against his taut frame, kissing his lips...yes, this was surely heaven. I thought vaguely that even our bodies seemed to fit together, perfectly and instinctively; like a lock and a particularly delicious, long, hard key...
At this point, I abandoned my lame analogy for some concrete action.
I ripped off more of his clothes- his shirt was gone and I giddily groped his rock-hard abs. I felt him smile against my mouth, so I made a mental note to do that more often. As I smoothly slid his belt out of the loops, I broke away from his lips and held the belt in front of his face. He raised one eyebrow at me and I playfully snapped it straight.
He growled and, with my legs still encircling him, he turned us in one quick movement so that I was underneath him. The belt fell to the floor and I squeaked a little with surprise at the sudden change in position, but his lips coerced a moan from me once they met mine again. My head was resting on a pillow at the arm of the couch, and his lean, strong masculine frame hovered over me as I ground up against his jean-clad hardness.
His mouth continued to assail mine as he unzipped his jeans. With my feet curled, I pushed his Levis further down his body, over his fantastically tight ass, past his legs, until he had been able to edge them off himself. Finally, he was entirely naked and his considerable erection was unrestrained and pressing into my bare thigh. (Not that I had ever had any doubts, but that feeling of anticipation alone was irrefutable evidence that there was indeed a God.)
I looked intensely into his eyes as he placed his cock at my wet, tight entrance and slammed into me. My head jerked back involuntarily, and I gasped as my body tried to adjust to the feel of him inside me once again. Without giving me a chance to recover, Eric pulled out completely and slammed back into me again, and repeated the motion once more. I came violently; my nails raked across his bare back and my inner muscles spasmed around his cock. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought maybe he had finished too, but he continued to pull out and thrust in deeply at a steady pace. He rubbed my clit and I came again, undulating against him frantically, while twitching in intense pleasure. Again, I thought that he was almost finished, but he continued his relentless assault on my body.
"Sookie," he growled fiercely,
"Look.
At.
Me."
He punctuated each word with a quick but deep thrust inside of me. I tried to meet his worshipful gaze, but it was almost like an out of body experience; I could tell that my eyes were wide and unfocused. I wasn't able to concentrate on anything except for the divine feeling of his huge cock pounding into me, over and over and over again.
"You.
Are.
MINE."
He repeated this mantra ardently as I moaned and gasped and writhed and became completely undone beneath him.
He pounded into me a few more times before grabbing my hips and burying his hardness inside of me. I mistakenly thought I couldn't climax again, but we came together, and I was flying, totally outside of my body. My vision was graying, my limbs weakening...
And then there was only darkness.
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Eric POV
I had never fucked anyone unconscious before. Thank God Sookie had come to (no pun intended; I was scared out of my fucking mind) almost instantly because I was about to call 911 in a blind panic...and Jesus, I didn't want to think about the possible headlines that might appear to describe this particular incident. At the very least, it would qualify me to write a very disturbing FML statement.
But Sookie had woken before I could move. She seemed a little disoriented and blinked slowly. She asked me softly what had happened, and as I tried to explain it, her eyes crinkled and she gave into genuine, albeit weak, laughter. I was still a little shaken, so I couldn't join in her amusement just yet.
I abruptly slid out of her and moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch, and her smile faded as she saw the disturbed expression in my eyes.
"Jesus, Sookie, I'm sorry. I can't believe...fuck, I should have been more careful with you. Are you alright?" After all the emotional bullshit we had already been through, I had to go and put her through this fucking physical trauma. The guilt weighed on me heavily and I turned away from her perplexed gaze to pull on my jeans. She pushed herself to an upright position and wrapped her arms around me, effectively stilling my movement. My body tensed as she rested her warm right cheek on my right shoulder and said, "That was incredible."
I spoke tentatively. "You can't mean that."
She looked up at me, chin resting on my arm, and grinned. "Well, I might not be able to walk for about a week or so, but it was definitely, definitely worth it."
I let out a relieved sigh, but as I turned towards her, I felt her wince and she said unthinkingly, "Ow."
Cursing internally, I carefully maneuvered her into my arms and lifted her.
"The only thing that helps sore muscles is a nice hot bath," I said, carrying her with me as I walked towards the bathroom. Her blue-green eyes trustingly searched my own and, apparently comforted by what she found there, she contentedly leaned her head against my chest.
I knew there was more that we needed to talk about, but for the moment I was just happy to feel the girl I loved in my arms again.
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Coming up: A Talk, Thanksgiving, and one doozy of a Christmas surprise.