Recap of previous chapter: Eric & Sookie go to Provincetown to celebrate Independence Day. Eric pushes Sookie to disclose personal information and then takes her to a bait-and-tackle shop, where he surprises her with a sapphire pin. She reluctantly accepts after Eric proposes he also buy her P-town's ugliest souvenir. During his search for said souvenir, Sookie is knocked to the ground.

Chapter 10: Independence Day, Part 2

It all happened so fast that for a brief moment, I didn't know what hit me. The first thing I noticed was Eric, right there, hovering over me.

And so was... Uncle Sam?...or, er...Aunt Sam? Looking up, her long legs went on forever, up to the bottoms of very short, red-and-white striped hot pants. My eyes kept traveling upward-only briefly considering how she had achieved that smooth tuck-to her blue spangled jacket and then up to her eyes, with the longest, silvery eyelashes I'd ever seen. Her crowning glory was her oversized, furry top hat in red, white, and blue.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" She reached out to help me up.

Eric stepped in front of her. "Are you okay?"

"Sure. Yeah." I brushed myself off. "What happened?"

Aunt Sam bent down to pick up her skateboard, its wheels flashing red, white, and blue. "It's never happened to me before, I swear. I must have hit a piece of trash or something."

In an instant, Eric's smirk turned into a harsh sneer.

"Eric?" I said in a half-questioning, half-warning tone.

"Give me your hat," he said simply, his words loaded with intention.

"Oh, no, Eric." I could see where this was headed now.

"Excuse me?" Aunt Sam stammered.

"Your hat." Eric said nothing more. He was looking at her nearly eye-to-eye, her high-heeled go-go boots bringing her practically up to his level. I could feel the quiet heat of intimidation rolling off of him. I really wanted her to tell him to fuck off and wondered whether I, myself, would be able to do it if he ever pushed me hard enough.

Her posture slouched the slightest bit. Yeah. She was toast.

"Um. S-s-sure. Okay." Hesitating only briefly, she pulled the hat off and handed it to Eric.

Aunt Sam didn't need to be told to leave. She sulked back out through the crowds, carrying her skateboard, looking like some sort of dethroned monarch from an alternate universe. Immediately, I realized by not stopping Eric, I'd been complicit in his bad behavior.

He held the hat out to me on his palms. "Ugliest souvenir in all of P-town, right here."

I smacked him on the shoulder. "You stole this hat, you big bully. What's gotten into you tonight?" Away from the security and comfort of home, I'd been thrown off kilter, and Eric had definitely been feeling his oats and screwing with boundaries. "You. Forfeit." I poked him on the chest, emphasizing each word.

"You're joking, right?"

I squinted at him, as though by narrowing my focus I could figure him out. He thought my challenging him was a joke. That's what made me snap.

I grabbed the hat from his hands and started to work my way out into the crowd to catch up with Aunt Sam to hand it back. Eric stopped me, rolling his eyes. "Really?"

"Don't roll your eyes at me." I poked him again.

He muttered something under his breath, grabbed the hat, and then strode off to catch up with Aunt Sam. I watched him pull out his wallet to hand her money before returning to me.

He held the hat out to me once again. "I apologized for my...rudeness. And then I paid her. This now rightfully belongs to you."

I waited.

"Right?"

"It still doesn't seem right."

"It was wrong of me to intimidate her."

"You really mean that?" Of course he didn't.

He raised his eyebrows at me and held out his hands. "You're not going back on your agreement are you?"

Ah. The return challenge. "You think I don't see what game you're playing?"

His feigned look of innocence was one of the most ridiculous things I'd seen. I couldn't help but laugh, and before I knew it, he had leaned in to advance his cause, his peppered kisses nipping my neck and shoulders. His hands nearly encircled my waist, pulling me close against him.

Mm-hmm. I was toast too. Aunt Sam and I should probably ditch him, find a good club, and spend the rest of the night dancing to drag queen karaoke. The problem was just how much I was hooked on the power of drawing his playfulness out. Even worse, I realized that his badass side made his lightheartedness all the more intriguing when it surfaced.

Toast, I'm telling you.

"All right, all right."

"Now you're keeping the pin, right?"

"Yes, yes, of course." I clutched at it dramatically. "Now give me the damn hat." I plunked it on my head and tugged a foolish grin into place. "How do I look?"

His expression changed so suddenly and completely that I started to squirm inside, wondering whether there was something else awry, besides P-town's ugliest souvenir on my head. I reached down to smooth my dress and make sure everything was in place. I licked my teeth, hoping nothing unsightly was caught in there, and reached up to tuck some loose hairs behind my ears.

"See now that proves it."

"What, that I look like a patriotic pimp?"

"You're beautiful no matter what you wear."

Right there, in the middle of the crowds, he pulled me close for one of his long, slow, mouth-watering kisses.

Oh. Yum. I wanted seconds and thirds before I was even finished with my first helping.

But he pulled back, raking his hands through his own hair.

"Well, then, come on. I want to show you off." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we started to walk. In the reflection of a glass storefront, I caught sight of myself next to this insanely infuriating and beautiful man. The brooch flashed.

"Bartlett's store is just down the street."

Stepping inside, we were greeted by a crazy array of tie-dyed tapestries hanging on the walls. Otherwise, everything else was black. Leather.

A very burly, dark-haired man, somewhere in his 50s, dressed in—no surprise here—leather pants, greeted us almost immediately. "Eric!" His unique, gravelly voice, though not loud, could be heard easily from across the store. He approached like a dear friend, quickly breaching Eric's personal space and giving him a firm hug. Eric hugged him back, then seemed to bristle somewhat as he noticed me watching him.

"You're brave bringing a date in here."

Eric disentangled himself from the hug. "Sookie, this is Bart."

"This is Sookie?" The way Bart emphasized 'this' made me wonder whether he and Eric had had a conversation about me. He caught Eric's eyes with a not-very-subtle look.

The hat weighing heavily on my head, I extended my hand, "Hello. Nice to meet you." Consciously, I made an effort not to fidget.

Bart skipped the handshake and went right for the hug. For such a tough-looking guy, he sure was touchy-feely. Pulling back, his hands still clasping my shoulders, he gave me a visual head-to-toe scan. "Sweetie, only you could pull off this hat with such panache." Lightly touching the brooch, he added, "And I see you've been to see Russell. Just lovely. But tell me...is Eric behaving himself?"

I think I could like this Bartlett character. I grinned over at Eric, who was now bridging the short distance between us with two purposeful steps to put his arm around me. He spoke before I had a chance to say anything else. "I think Sookie would like to see the back of the store."

Bartlett's eyes narrowed. "Eric, I'm warning you. You will treat the lady with respect in my store." Linking his arms in mine, he brushed Eric's arm from my shoulder. Clearly he would be giving me a tour of his shop with his own plans in mind. He proceeded to take me around to show me all of his leather inventory-hand-crafted he proudly informed me-from belts (where I exclaimed how much I liked Eric's belt) to caps and vests and pants and skirts and coats and...

"It's everything you could possibly ever imagine in leather," I gushed.

Eric snickered, which prompted Bart to glare at him. Curiosity got the better of me. "But there's more in the back?"

Bart sighed. "Would you like to see the back?"

"Sure, why not?" Though it had been fun pairing up with Bart, I was more interested in taking on Eric's challenge.

Bart's eyebrows raised, "Some with more fragile sensibilities prefer to stay in the front of the store."

"It's okay. I'm game. I'd like the whole tour." Eric had linked his arm at my other side and was pulling me away, through a curtain. Bart trailed behind.

I realized, at once, why this area was curtained off. I felt the blush rising in my cheeks almost immediately in spite of myself. Maybe it was the intense scrutiny of these two men by my side making me so self-conscious.

Or maybe it was the riding crops. Or the bustiers and crotchless panties. Or the wrist cuffs. Or the myriad of leather restraints, graciously displayed on an assortment of mannequins in various poses. Or the...what the hell was that?

"Uh," I laughed nervously, "Do you have anything back here without straps and buckles?"

I earned an appreciative chuckle from both of them. Eric gently pulled my chin toward him and leaned down for a kiss. Bart took that moment to excuse himself, "Sir," he spoke to a man trying on something that looked like it could have come from a basement scene in Pulp Fiction, "Sir, that adjusts in the back."

"So," Eric prodded, "what do you think?" He raised his eyebrows at me.

I checked myself. I had thought I was pretty much game for anything. I had thought there wasn't much that could make me feel uncomfortable. But here, in this room, surrounded by all of this leather...paraphernalia, my composure was definitely rattled.

"Well, some of this is just downright scary," I admitted. "But I might be tempted to try something new," I teased, running a finger down the center of his chest, down to his belt buckle.

"Hmm." He appeared to be considering something.

"Eric Northman!" a man called from the front of the store, peering through the curtains. "How are you? Good to see you, man."

Eric turned to look, and then strode toward him, shaking his hand and slapping him on the back of the shoulder. "How's the house working out?" He turned back to give me a just-a-minute gesture before slipping through the curtain. I could hear them discussing some kind of home remodeling project Eric must have worked on.

Bart, meanwhile, had thoroughly outfitted a customer in a strappy, studded get-up that fit over his head, and left him standing in front of a full-length mirror. "You let me know if you need any other help."

Then he turned back to me. "Sweetie, you are still blushing." He clasped my cheeks.

Maybe it was the simple way he had unassumingly slipped through any boundaries between us. Or maybe I was just hell-bent on getting the upper hand with Eric. In any case, without thinking more about it, I pulled Bart aside, still feeling the burn in my cheeks. "Do you think you could help me pick out something? You know, something fairly tame?"

Bart sighed deeply and wrapped his arm around me. "Oh, my dear, what has he done to you? If you don't get to him first, I will, and it won't be tame." He gave me a squeeze. "All right, listen. I never send a customer away unhappy. My guess is that I don't have anything in your size. Know what I mean?"

Yeah, I think I did. None of this was my speed, really. I'd probably already pushed the outermost limits of my sexuality this summer. This would be where I'd draw the line.

"But if you want me to look, I will help try to find something...suitable for you. You let me know."

I nodded, surprised to find tears welling up.

Bart was giving me a full hug just as Eric was coming back.

"I see you two have gotten to know each other." Eric's demeanor was set in still-and-quiet mode, making me wonder exactly what was going on in that head of his. It had been a most strange and eventful evening.

"I think we're all set here, Eric."

Bart leaned over to kiss first one cheek, then the other. "I like this woman's spunk. There might be hope for you after all, Eric."

Eric's face was still quietly composed, and his arms were folded across his chest. "I think we better get going so we don't miss the fireworks."

"Right! Don't miss the show! Thank you for stopping by, Sookie." He winked, and then was off to help "The Gimp" unstrap himself. I confess I felt relieved to be leaving.

Eric and I headed outside, where the mass of people was now moving in the direction of the beach to claim a spot for the fireworks. Rounding a corner, I suddenly caught sight of none other than L.L., alone, but carrying two cups.

"Ugh!" I pulled at Eric's arm.

"What?"

I tucked us both inside a doorway, hoping L.L. hadn't spotted us.

"L.L.'s here . I don't want to get into it with him tonight. You know, with you here and all."

Eric nodded. He'd been willing enough this summer to keep our relationship private.

He grabbed my hands. "Is the coast clear?"

I peeked out. "I think so."

We headed back out into the crowd, joining everyone else in a search of a good spot in the sand. Eric seemed to know where he was going, walking briskly away from the crowds, his long legs and my flip-flops putting me at a serious disadvantage. Eventually he stopped to hoist me up for a piggy-back ride. After a few more minutes at his brisk pace, he ushered us to a quiet little private spot formed by an outcropping of rocks. Here, in the sand, he leaned back with me, pinning his body on top of mine.

I gasped, the weight of him digging the pin into my chest. He immediately pulled back, apologizing, and then tentatively fingering the brooch and looking at me with a questioning look.

"It's beautiful," I assured him, though in fact I still felt awkward about accepting it. "Thank you."

In the darkness, I watched the birth of a smile on his face, morphing from a hesitant half-grimace to a smug smirk of satisfaction to a full-on grin, spanning from cheek to cheek. Touching the crinkles etched around his eyes, I wondered about all of the things that had made him happy in his life.

Suddenly the sky blasted with color, intruding on our quiet moment. I moved to sit up.

He pushed me back down, his eyes now deadly serious. His kisses traveled downward, flitting across my breasts before lingering on my belly, where he flipped up the skirt to my dress and pulled it over his head.

"Eric!" This would be another time to draw that line, right?

Though the rocks shielded us, there was nothing to stop anyone from blundering into our little space. His head popped back up with a wicked twist on his mouth.

"Are you scared?"

"Anyone could walk by!"

"Are you scared?" he repeated, returning to his spot between my legs. I felt his grin as I mumbled something unintelligible. I couldn't have made sense even to myself if I had tried.

I pushed down on his shoulders and spread my legs open further, consenting, even as the little imaginary danger sign in my brain flashed its blinking red warning. I felt his fingers tugging aside lace, followed by the sudden plunging of his warm tongue. I jumped, startled by the immediate intensity. Within seconds, any thoughts about anything else in this world vanished. A moan slipped out, sounding so foreign I wondered whether it had come from me. I was complete putty in his hands. Er, his mouth.

I closed my eyes, the lights from the fireworks flashing behind my lids. Their explosions vibrated deep in my belly, heightening sensations and flinging me outward. It could have been me arching through that night sky, taking flight with the shattering, fragmenting light.

"Mmmm..." Jolts of heat crackled from the center of me all the way up to my head and down to my toes, curling through the cool, velvet sand.

I was lying there, still appreciating the aftershocks of Eric's whiz-bang oral talents, when suddenly, a change in the lights behind my closed eyes startled me. Opening them, I gasped.

There stood L.L., his face harsh with shadow in the flickering light, distorted in a way that made it hard for me to see his expression. What exactly was his face saying? Anger? Loathing? Disappointment?

Disgust?

Did he think I was a whore?

While overhead the fireworks played, in my head, the word 'whore' echoed. My eyes traveled down the length of my body, misshapen by the lump of Eric beneath the tent of my dress.

L.L. said nothing, then turned, walking away with great intent. The shifting sand beneath his feet betrayed him, slowing his progress. His head bobbed forward like a spastic chicken as he stumbled, disappearing into the darkness.

It all happened in the span of a few seconds.

"Mmmph," came a sound from between my legs.

"Oh!" Suddenly aware of the death grip I had on Eric's head and the way I was pressing his face right into my hootchie, I released him. "Need some air?"

Eric emerged, his mouth traveling, the confidence of his kisses waning as he worked his way back up my body. He stopped at my mouth with a full look of uncertainty in his eyes.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded, afraid that my own voice would betray me. I was okay, right? I pushed L.L. out of my mind, deciding some things were better left unsaid-both to myself and Eric-and forced a smile. I was here, on the beach, on a summer holiday, enjoying myself with Eric, abandoning worries and concerns and the rattling weight of heartaches passed.

Yeah. I was okay. "How about a twofer?"

"With pleasure, lover."

It was his wicked grin that tossed my mind as he disappeared back underneath my skirt. It had been a most unusual night, full of boundary-pushing and testing of limits. As my feet plunged through the soft sand again, this much I knew:

Some lines are drawn indelibly. Others are drawn in the sand.

A/N: The word of the day is whiz-bang.

~Thanks for reading!~

Disclaimer: All SVM characters belong to Charlaine Harris. I'm just taking them on a tour of New England.