A/N: Thank y'all for all the amazing reviews! I'm so happy you guys are enjoying this fic ;p
And, a special thanks goes to FNT, who collaborated with me on a fic for the Eric and His Great Pumpkin contest. We co-wrote my first official lemon. You know what they say – it gets a lot easier (and much more fun) after your first time:)
Oh, what's that? You haven't read our GP entry yet? *gasps in horror * Well, I guess I could forgive you – but only if you run along and read it right now! Go ahead...the Erikson brothers will keep me company while I wait ;p
http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5446866/1/Come_As_You_Arent
Oh, and of course you should check out all the other amazing entries:
http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/u/2089903/Eric_and_his_Great_Pumpkin
Thank you so, so much VampLover1 for being such an amazing beta...there are no words. * smooches *
Okay, nuff said. Enjoy!
Photography deals exquisitely with appearances, but nothing is what it appears to be.
– Duane Michals
"The F Stop," purred a lazy but seductive voice, "this is Pam."
Her emphasis on the F dripped with sex, and it made me reconsider, even if just for the briefest of moments, whether the gallery name really did refer to the photographic term.
"Is this Pamela Ravenscroft?" I inquired in a, what I hoped would sound confident and polite but ended up more like a breathless, squeak.
Her laughter spilled out, smooth velvet rippling over cool steel. It filled my reddening ears. "Ms. Sookie Stackhouse. I was wondering how long it would take you to work up the nerve to call. I must admit, I'm quite pleasantly surprised."
She proceeded to officially congratulate me and provide all the mundane details of the show and her gallery.
Despite her distant and bored phone demeanor, I was surprised at how quickly I felt at ease with her. Perhaps it was the unassuming attitude behind the blunt edge of her words? Or the glimpse of biting sarcasm that we seemed to share? Well, whatever it was, I was beginning to chastise myself for being so nervous about returning her call.
That is, until she mentioned the big O.
"So, the opening will be on Friday evening," she said. "But, we'd like you to get here on Thursday, just so you have time to settle in and get some beauty rest before the big night."
"Wait a sec," I protested, abruptly bolting upright from the relaxed leaning stance I had been in only a second ago. "I'm really honored that I was chosen and all, but do you really need me to be there?" This last bit almost died in my throat, sounding more like a croak than the nonchalant question it was meant to be.
"Yes. Yes, I do. Our visitors will want to meet the artist," she replied.
Of course, I thought, rolling my eyes with disgust. I could already feel myself choking by the overwhelming stuffiness of the crowd that would close in around me. I swallowed hard at the image of the throng of little-black-clad ant-people, swarming on a fresh carcass.
"I don't really do the whole gallery opening schmoozing scene," I said, trying to keep the hyperventilation out of my voice.
"Mm-hmm. One of those, huh," she pondered, not even a drop of sympathy apparent in her tone. "Really, Sookie. I had high hopes you wouldn't turn out to be such a cliche." She paused for a moment, either to add drama, or to let me wallow alone in her disapproval, or both. "Unfortunately, it's a non-negotiable," she continued. "But I have found a way to sweeten the deal for you."
"Oh?" I wasn't aware we were cooking.
"Yes, you are a fan of the Fiends show?"
Was this supposed to be a rhetorical question? I was beginning to worry that Pam was just trying to prove how much of a cliche I really was.
"Yeah, me and every other red-blooded girl on this continent," I answered.
She stifled a giggle. "Right. Well, there are two tickets to the season premiere of Fiends in it for you."
I sat numbly through the rest of the conversation as she explained how they would take care of all travel expenses, that their driver would pick me up from the airport, and that I would be staying at a nearby hotel while in town. They were even going to give me a card to cover food and other 'entertainment incidentals,' as Pam put it.
Well, well, well -- an all-expense paid ticket to Hollywood AND a ticket to the premiere of my favorite show. Not only would I get a sneak peek at the show, I'd actually be in the same room as EN. I sure was glad that I was sitting down, and tried to ignore the simultaneous hyperventilating and drooling that the mere thought brought on.
A girl would have to be nuts to turn this down.
I grasped each side of the plastic tray, holding onto the tongs with one hand as I rocked the tray back and forth. I watched the liquid pool and roll from side to side, slowly drawing the forms out of the pearly gloss-white of the paper. The second increments of the timer beside me glowed lime-green, the loud ticks filling the silence between each dull thud of the tray against the counter. I leaned in, impatient as always to inspect the results, as if this would somehow speed up the process. The narrow bands of varying exposures came into focus, each becoming more distinctly separate with every passing wave of the liquid.
My eyes glazed over, settling into the hypnotic rhythms of my dark sanctuary, when I felt cool strong fingers clasp around my shoulders. I shivered at the sensation, yet found myself too entranced to move. He loosened his grip and turned his palms outwards, slowly moving down my arms. His fingertips just barely grazed my skin, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps in their meandering path. He stopped and hovered just above my wrist, tracing circles there with his thumb for the briefest of moments, before bringing his large hands down to rest over mine.
My breath hitched in my throat as I felt him move closer, pressing his very hard-to-ignore arousal against my back. He closed his hands around mine, helping me shake the tray back and forth. Moving in even closer, he leaned his face down to rest his chin against the top of my collarbone, nuzzling his cheek against my long blond hair falling between us. I closed my eyes and moaned softly, allowing myself to enjoy every delicious moment of this fantasy. His enticing, earthy scent surrounded me, making my mouth water and my knees grow weak. I leaned back into his broad, hard chest, enjoying every spot our bodies touched, especially the friction created where our arms rubbed against each other's as we moved our hands together, agitating the photo and each other.
But what I saw, when I finally got the courage to open my eyes and peek through the curtain of my hair, made me gasp in shock. I even sagged back a little, though it only served to bring me further into his embrace, causing him to tighten his arms around me. The mouth-watering hunk of man-meat that had invaded my darkroom was none other than Bjorn Erikson! Or, maybe fiend-meat was the more accurate term?
His eyes were closed behind his dark, thick-rimmed glasses, but those fair beautiful features and his strong, lickable jawline faintly glowing beside me, were unmistakable; and at such close proximity, all available air was sucked out of me. Oh, and that gorgeous long blond hair of his – falling over my shoulders, intertwining with my own, so that I could barely tell where his started and mine ended – well, let's just say I was happy to be able to rest most of my weight onto him. And I was happy all over... and getting happier by the second... until the deafening buzz.
I flinched, opening my eyes with a start, frantically trying to orient myself so I could locate the timer and shut it off. He deftly reached over and stopped the offending noise, while he guided the tong, along with my hand, to take out the contact sheet. We held it in front of us above the developer bath, so that the excess liquid could drip off. I stared straight ahead, blinking, unable to wrench my gaze to what it should be looking at: the photo in front of me. Instead, I was hypnotized by the large pale hand devouring my own, his strong yet gentle fingers swallowing mine. Well, Dayumn. I wonder if it's true what they say about proportionality…
I leaned back a little, compensating for our height difference with a quick mental calculation and tried to gauge an answer. I gasped, my eyes growing wider at what I felt. He gave the picture one final shake before lowering it down towards the next tray in line, the stop bath, which would halt the development process started by the previous solution.
"How long?" he whispered, the low humming of his voice in my ear sending tantalizing chills to the very tips of my toes.
How long indeed. How long could the man possibly be? Was it even physically possible for him to keep it in his pants with the sheer size of it? Or maybe he meant how long 'til I lose all semblance of self-control and rip those pants off? No, that's probably not what he meant. I felt my breath quicken. Get it together, girl. You're panting like a regular barn animal.
I finally willed my brain to work. "Th-thirty s-seconds," I stammered.
"Mmm..." was his only response, as he set the timer beside us. Why did it sound more like he was enjoying a sweet treat than affirming my response, I wondered, until my mind melted to mush at the touch of his hand on my stomach, pulling me even closer. He rocked the tray with his other hand, still wrapped around mine. It was all I could do to stop myself from mirroring the movement with my entire body.
He was burying his face deeper in my hair now, until he found that sensitive spot just behind my ear. He lingered there, lips hovering just above my skin, and flicked his cool tongue with practiced skill. I sighed, attempting to subdue the shivers that shook my body.
He tightened his arms around me and nibbled and sucked his way down my neck until his head was nestled into the crook, where he stayed for a few moments, inhaling deeply.
"When you smell like that--" he breathed into my neck, pausing to take another long sniff, "lover," he added, the word sliding into me, his lips and tongue caressing my skin.
"All I want to do is..." he trailed off into a growl, continuing his mouth's talented exploration down my arm. Smell like what? I wondered. Pungent, acrid chemicals? A wet dog that got doused in vinegar? I didn't smell half as yummy as he did, that's for sure, his earthy, musky scent surrounding me. Like sex on a stick. Exactly like I imagined a sexy vampire would smell.
Just then, he found that delicate spot on my wrist, just below the palm. I cried out and bucked my hips, awakened out of my internal olfactory debate. I whimpered with desire as his mouth traveled across my palm and up my index finger, rubbing his soft, smooth lips against it. Parting his lips, he flicked his tongue out, teasing my nerves for an excruciating moment until he closed his mouth around it. His mouth was cool and wet, and I gasped at the rough texture of his tongue moving rhythmically against my finger.
"Ungh," I moaned, grinding against him. I gave into it, closing my eyes and leaning all my weight against him, until I felt the unmistakable sharpness of fangs bite down and draw blood. I spun around, pulling my body out of his embrace, but he was doing such unbelievably amazing things to my fingertip that I just couldn't bring myself to withdraw it. I rested the palm of my hand on his chest so that I could use it as leverage to pull my other hand away from his talented mouth, should I really want to... but I suppose I wasn't fully committed to that task. Instead, we danced a lust-dazed tango in my darkroom -- me backing up, one hand against his strong, hard chest, while he advanced towards me, sucking and licking away my defenses.
It was a precarious balance, and I was all too aware of its fragility. I was exercising just enough control to not completely give in to the fiend in my darkroom, but I feared that any little thing could tip the scales. And what came next was the farthest thing from the little that I could have imagined.
A large, warm hand snaked around my waist, while hot breath whispered against my ear. "Don't worry, he doesn't bite hard... unless you want him to," came a husky voice beside me. Turning my gaze onto my newest visitor, my breath hitched at the sight before me. The human half of the Erikson twins, Leif, was standing next to me, his glorious 6'4 frame bent down to nuzzle at my neck. While I personally much preferred his brother's long mane, I had to admit that his cropped hair did expose his beautiful features nicely and allowed for much easier access to his smooth, honey-toned cheek and the rough, stubble-covered jaw, which he was now rubbing ever-so-deliciously against my cheek.
Whatever parallel universe I had been dropped into, I silently prayed that I could stay here for a while, or at least come on regular visits.
I did what any self-respecting fangirl would do in this situation. I placed my free hand onto his massive shoulder. For support, of course! Dear Lord. My hand felt so tiny resting there, barely covering a third of it, if that. And the way his muscles rippled under that smooth, warm skin...
I sighed, leaning my cheek onto his, and inhaling deeply. Oh. My. Gawd. He even smelled gorgeous. Like a summer breeze blowing against picturesque cliffs jutting over the rough Nordic seas. Yum.
Leif roughly wrapped my hair around his hand, moving it aside to expose my neck. His lips grazed along my jaw line, tracing its contour with searing kisses, his tongue darting out for a taste every so often. When he reached the base of my ear, he sucked on it for a moment then flattened his tongue against my skin and licked his way up in one quick, smooth motion, tugging my hair back to move my head against his hot, slick tongue. I felt my panties dampen instantly, and bit down on my lip to tamp down on the impending whimpers and moans that threatened to escape. He pulled back, hovering just above my skin as he blew on the wet spot, his breath both hot and cool against the wetness he left behind. A low moan escaped my lips at the exquisite sensation.
My trembling body only spurred on both brothers.
Leif made full use of his talented hand, traveling down my waist, stroking and caressing until he settled it on my hip, while sucking and licking my ear. I nearly lost it when Leif bit down on the lobe, roughly tugging on it with his teeth.
Meanwhile, Bjorn was continuing his erotic assault on my hand.
I could swear I heard a growl, but I couldn't be absolutely sure which brother it came from.
Well, isn't double the flavor, double the fun? I tried to convince myself of that but had to admit that one Erikson twin was probably more than I could handle. Especially after the hard evidence I'd found just a few moments ago, evidence confirming the indisputable undeniable truth of the proportionality theory.
My eyes darted from Leif to Bjorn, unable to decide which gorgeous version of EN to settle on. Bjorn dropped onto one knee, caressing my thigh with one hand and my wrist with the other, and my decision was officially made: I would keep my long-held allegiance to Team Vamp. As I trembled and moaned at Bjorn's touch and gaze, his brother leaned in and hummed a familiar melody against my ear in the softest, sexiest voice.
I was nearly undone when he began to form the words.
"I'll be there for you," Leif sang, "when your fangs start to show."
My eyes shot open. "Wh-what?"
But Leif's only response was to lean in even closer and rub his cheek against mine.
Before I could get my bearings, Bjorn continued the song from his position below me.
"I'll be there for you, since we're brothers, you know."
Appalled, I began to back up, blinking rapidly in an attempt to make sense of what was going on. And to make sure my eyes and ears were still properly functioning.
I shut my eyes, horrified at how quickly this had all gone so wrong, and that's when they both broke into full-out song for the next line.
"I'll be there for you, 'cause you're there for me too."
Silence. Blessed silence surrounded me for one hopeful moment. I cracked open one eye just a sliver, daring a peek. I was just in time to see the brothers moving towards each other, their arms snaking around each other's shoulders in a brotherly embrace. They had those gorgeous grins plastered over both their faces, one with extended fangs, of course. As they started belting out that damned chorus again, I shut my eyes against the horror, willing it to end.
But they just wouldn't stop. In fact, they just kept getting louder and louder. I finally relented and opened my eyes again, only to find myself in my living room, wrapped in Gran's old quilt.
As I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, my phone lit up beside me, starting up that familiar tune all over again.
Ugh. I picked up the phone and raised it to my ear.
"Hey Amelia," I said, my voice groggy.
"Sook? Are you just waking up? At four in the afternoon? " Amelia asked, her voice filled with wonder and amusement. "Well, I guess you'll adjust to the Hollywood lifestyle more easily than I thought." I could hear the distinct sounds of snickering.
Well, technically it was 6 PM, my time. But I wasn't in the mood to point that out to my best friend on the West coast. No need to give her more ammo than she already had.
"No – I just dozed off."
"So... did you get the tickets?" she asked with excitement in her voice.
My eyes darted over to the coffee table with guilt, trying not to think about how often I'd stared at those first-class airline tickets over the past few days, ever since they arrived in that now-easily-recognizable envelope from the F/Stop Gallery. "Yes, Ami. Landing in LAX, 2 PM. Next Thursday."
"You sure you don't want me to pick you up?"
"Yeah. Pam insisted that her driver must earn his keep. I'll call you as soon as I'm settled."
California, here I come!
A/N: So...was that good for you? *giggles *
Please let me know what you thought...and don't be shy – I want to know what works and what doesn't – it's the only way I'll improve :-) (Of course, if you do have constructive criticism, it goes down much smoother when it's wrapped in yummy compliments).
This one goes out to Steph who gave me the evil suggestion that I should include that catchy tune in every chapter. Well, I probably won't include it in every chapter – but I just couldn't resist this time!
Oh, and Amelia's nickname is pronounced Ah-Me, in case you were wondering.