Sookie stood at her front door, her heart racing with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Her fingers danced anxiously, betraying her attempts to seem composed. She had been on dates before, but this one felt different. Thomas, a kind and respectful rookie cop, had managed to intrigue her in a way she hadn't expected.
"I had a really nice time," Thomas said, his own nerves evident in his voice. His eyes held a warmth that made Sookie's cheeks flush even more.
This was a significant step for her, a reentry into the dating world after the tumultuous events with Bill. It had been a tough journey, but she was finally ready for some semblance of normalcy.
Thomas and Sookie had met through her brother Jason, an unlikely matchmaker. Despite her initial hesitation, the two dates they had been on were surprisingly enjoyable. And now, here they were, on her front porch, the night winding down.
Running a hand through his short, dark hair, Thomas shifted on his feet. "Maybe we could do this again this weekend?"
Sookie's lips curled into a sweet smile. "I think I would like that."
"Ok then. Well, goodnight, Sookie." With a shy smile, he turned to leave, leaving her feeling a mix of contentment and curiosity. She had expected a goodnight kiss, but perhaps Thomas was just as nervous as she was.
As he drove off, Sookie's senses tingled with familiarity—the gust of wind and that distinct scent. A sigh escaped her lips before she even turned to look.
"Eric, what are you doing here?" She faced him, her tone a mixture of exasperation and resignation. There he stood, leaning casually against the railing, the very picture of nonchalance.
"Who's the guy?" His lips curled into a smirk that she could practically hear in his voice. She rolled her eyes, not willing to let him ruffle her feathers.
"None of your business." She stood her ground, hands finding her hips in a gesture of defiance.
"Was it a date?" He arched an eyebrow, that ever-present knowing glint in his eyes.
Sookie's eyes rolled almost of their own accord. "Yes, Eric, it was a date. Happy now?"
His chuckle was low and melodious. "Putting yourself back out there already. Impressive."
She tilted her head, a mixture of irritation and amusement bubbling within her. "Last time I checked, my love life was my business. And speaking of locations, I heard you were in London."
The distance between them seemed to lessen as he closed the gap. "You've been keeping tabs on me?" His voice was a purr, the kind that had once sent shivers down her spine.
"It's hard not to when your face is all over the news. Quite the celebrity now," she retorted, her facade of indifference beginning to crack.
"Just trying to stay alive," he replied, his tone betraying a weight she couldn't ignore. His fingers reached out, a strand of her blonde hair caught between them. The touch was familiar, yet it sent a jolt through her. Stepping back, she met his gaze head-on.
"Aren't we all," she said softly, the moment between them heavy with unspoken words. "What do you want, Eric? It's late."
His grin was a mixture of mischief and familiarity. "Can't I just stop by to see an old friend?"
"No, not really," she replied, her resolve returning as she remembered how Eric Northman had the uncanny ability to turn her world upside down.
"Ah, but it's good to see you still have that spark in you." His voice was a velvety whisper, and Sookie felt herself wavering despite her best efforts.
"I have work in the morning," she stated firmly, a determined edge in her voice. It was a boundary she needed to establish, a defense against the familiar pull he had over her. She knew all too well the path that led when he was around, and she was resolute not to tread it again.
"Come on, just five minutes for old times' sake," he cajoled, his strides taking him to a rocker. His imposing frame seemed to effortlessly meld with the chair, an embodiment of his sheer presence.
"Five minutes," she relented, her sigh laced with a hint of theatrics. She gave in, arms folding defensively across her chest. The chair beside him remained conspicuously unoccupied, her determination to remain standing unyielding.
"You're not going to sit?" He patted the empty space beside him, a playful glint in his eyes as she rolled her own. "Okay, that's fine." His smile was a mixture of intrigue and amusement as he leaned back, seemingly at ease. Her body's response to him was a vexing truth she couldn't deny; he had an allure that was impossible to resist. Dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, he exuded a magnetism that transcended attire. Despite her fondness for his frequent suits, there was something undeniably enticing about him in denim. It ignited a fire within her that she struggled to extinguish. "So, how have you been?"
"Fine. Busy with work," she replied tersely, her responses calculated to be brief and unengaging.
"Not going back to school yet?" His raised eyebrow was a testament to his impeccable memory, each conversation they'd ever had seemingly etched into his mind.
"No, not yet," she responded, a heavy swallow accompanying her words. His fingers rhythmically tapping against the armrest was an inadvertent trigger, conjuring memories of sensations she wished she could banish. The trails of heat those fingers had once left on her skin seemed to rekindle with each tap. She chastised herself mentally, desperately needing to regain her composure.
"I'm sorry to hear that. You're too good for that bar."
The subject shifted, a subtle redirection she was grateful for. "What have you been up to? I saw you met the royal family."
A dismissive wave accompanied his response. "Not my first encounter with them. They remain as they were."
"How's Pam?" Her inquiries continued, a strategic move to divert the focus away from herself.
"Thriving. She's overseeing two of the clubs now."
"I heard about the expansion. Congratulations," she offered, impatience causing her foot to tap rhythmically against the ground.
"You should come by and see it. Have you ever been to New York?"
"I'd rather not travel."
"You should consider it. Escaping this country ass town would be a breath of fresh air."
"This country ass town is my home, thank you very much," she retorted, a roll of her eyes emphasizing her point.
"You know what I mean."
"Listen, Eric, it's been a long day," she sighed, her weariness evident as he rose from the rocker. Her heart raced as he advanced, a reflexive step back betraying the unease she felt.
"I still think about that day," he admitted, his proximity causing her pulse to quicken. The words were loaded, referring to a day etched in her memory. The day after Bill's departure—a time she had tried to relegate to the recesses of her mind. She had rationalized her actions then as a result of her vulnerable state, a product of mourning and longing for solace. Conveniently, it had been Eric who had provided that comfort.
Six months prior...
Echoes of Bill's final words reverberated through her mind, mingling with the tears she fought to suppress. He was gone—truly, irreversibly gone this time. The trauma of that event lingered, a constant shadow haunting her thoughts. A tear-laden laugh bubbled from within her as she took a swig from the whiskey bottle, the burn of alcohol a fleeting distraction. The emptiness gnawed at her—Tara's absence, Jason living his life, and the bitter resentment she held for Bill's decision to end his own existence. Vampires, she thought bitterly, nothing but harbingers of heartache.
The music blared louder, her desperate attempt to drown the sorrows that seemed to inundate her existence. Yet even her haven, her home, couldn't escape the memories of those she had lost. Another round of tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over, when a persistent knocking broke through her isolation.
"Go away!" she shouted drunkenly, lifting the bottle in defiance. But the knocking persisted, wearing away her patience. "Are you kidding me? It's nearly midnight!" Frustration underscored her words as she yanked the door open, revealing a familiar figure. "It's you."
"Hello, Sookie," Eric's voice held a quizzical note as he stood before her, an enigmatic expression on his face.
"I'm busy, in case you didn't notice," she retorted, brandishing the bottle with a mixture of defiance and desolation. She took a long swig, her lips quivering as she tried to steady herself.
"Yeah, I see that. Can I come in?" His smirk held a trace of amusement as he leaned casually against the doorway.
"No, you may not," she shot back, rolling her eyes once more.
He sighed, a heavy exhalation. "Come on, let me in."
"No, I don't have to. It's called free will—I still have it," she laughed bitterly, taking another swig, the alcohol's sting offering a brief respite.
"How much of that have you had?" His concern was palpable as she turned away from him.
"None of your business. You're not my father," she scoffed before breaking into another bout of laughter. "Actually, you're like old enough to be my great-great-great—"
"Yeah, I get it," he interrupted, a wry smile curving his lips. "You know it's not much fun to drink alone."
"Can't even get drunk, can you?" Her eyes rolled as she deflected his presence.
"You might be surprised at what I'm capable of, Miss Stackhouse," he teased, his playful demeanor apparent.
"Ugh, you're not going to give up, are you?" She let out an exasperated sigh, her dramatics on full display.
"Not a chance," he responded, his grin unwavering.
"Fine, whatever. Come in," she relented, walking across the room, her movements unsteady as she continued to gulp from the bottle.
Eric stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the living room, littered with discarded beer bottles.
"Party of one, huh?" His raised eyebrow held a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
"Yeah, so? You're going to lecture me now?" Her tone carried a touch of defiance.
"No," he said, plucking the bottle from her hand and taking a swig himself.
She snatched it back. "So, what do you want? As you can see, I'm in the middle of something."
"Yeah, it looks like you're drowning your sorrows," he observed, shaking his head. "There are better ways to do that than this."
"Oh really? Enlighten me," she retorted, the alcohol loosening her inhibitions as she laughed with a hint of drunkenness.
"Well, for starters, you could put on some actual music instead of this garbage," he quipped, striding over to the stereo and changing the station.
"Hey! I was listening to that!" She snapped, stumbling towards him, nearly tripping over a beer bottle. He caught her, steadying her with a deft movement.
"I think you're done with this," he declared, taking the bottle from her grasp, despite her protests.
"Hey, give that back!" She attempted to regain her composure, but her inebriation made it a futile endeavor.
"I think it's time to sober up," he stated firmly, gripping her upper arms as she shot him a defiant glare.
"Fuck you, Eric," she spat, struggling to free herself, her emotions teetering on the edge.
"No, you're going to hurt yourself, and for what? For him? He is not worth it." His words struck a chord, and her eyes widened, brimming with tears. In a surprising move, she pulled her arm back and slapped him across the face.
He didn't flinch, his expression unchanged. "You can hit me all you want, Sookie, but it's the truth."
"You're a bastard!" Her anger surged, her voice laced with hurt and indignation. "I rescind—" Her words were abruptly cut off as his lips crashed onto hers in an unexpected, impulsive moment.
Her fingers trembling with anger, she shoved him back, her heart pounding fiercely. But before she could follow through with another slap, he caught her hand effortlessly in midair. The charged tension between them was palpable as their eyes locked, a silent battle of wills that crackled in the air. And then, in a swift rush of intensity, his lips were upon hers again.
Her hands found his short, blonde hair, her fingers curling into the strands as her nails dug into his scalp. A low, guttural groan escaped him, muffled by the seal of their mouths. He hoisted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his sturdy waist. The rough texture of the wall met her back, sending a jolt of sensation through her. Their kiss was a fevered dance, their tongues dueling with a fierce hunger for dominance.
Between them, his evident arousal pressed insistently, igniting a delicious friction that made her whimper into his mouth. The world seemed to narrow to the feeling of him—his taste, his touch, his urgent need. He tore at her top, buttons scattering like forgotten promises across the room. Her breath caught as his lips descended on her bra-clad breasts, his mouth a blend of hot, wet urgency against her skin. Her head fell back, a gasp escaping her as she surrendered to the onslaught of sensation.
With a swift, impatient movement, he ripped her bra away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. A sharp intake of breath escaped her parted lips as his mouth descended on a pert nipple, sucking with a relentless hunger that sent waves of pleasure crashing through her. She cried out, the sound a mixture of surprise and passionate abandon, her fingers in his hair pulling with a fervor she hadn't known she possessed.
The urgency between them was undeniable as he made quick work of her tiny shorts, the fabric yielding to his determined hands. His gaze blazed with an intensity that held her captive—a desire she had never witnessed from him before. The removal of his shirt revealed a body sculpted by centuries of existence. The ground met her feet once more, but her legs quivered with anticipation, barely able to support her.
In a swift motion, he lowered his pants just enough to free his throbbing erection. He hoisted her up again, his hands firm on her ass as he spread her wide. A sharp intake of breath escaped her as he entered her, a guttural groan reverberating through the room as their connection was established. The primal sound seemed to vibrate through the walls, the very foundation of the building responding to their fierce need.
Her back met the wall, his thrusts gaining an inhuman speed, a relentless pace that matched the frenzy of their desires. Her cries mixed with his, a symphony of passion that filled the air as he fucked her with an urgency that left no room for restraint. Her orgasm approached like a gathering storm, lightning and thunder crashing through her senses. Her nails clawed into his back, marking him with a testimony to the raw intensity of their encounter.
As her release overtook her, a cry of ecstasy escaped her lips. The windows rattled with the force of his primal roar, a sound so fierce and unrestrained that it seemed to shatter any remaining barriers. In that moment, as the world around them faded, they were two souls bound by desire, consumed by a wildfire of need that left nothing untouched.
"You think about it too," his words hung in the air, more of a declaration than a question.
She swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest. "No, I don't. What happened was a mistake. I was drunk and out of my mind."
"Bullshit," he retorted, his voice laced with a mix of determination and frustration. The distance between them closed rapidly, her back meeting the door with a soft thud.
"Eric, stop," she implored, her voice quivering as he loomed closer.
"Why do you keep denying what's so fucking obvious between us?" His words were tinged with a raw vulnerability, a glimpse of something she rarely saw. His hands landed on the door on either side of her head, effectively caging her in. "Tell me you feel nothing for me, and I'll leave you alone," he challenged, his eyes searching hers for a truth she was reluctant to admit.
"I... feel... nothing," her words were a shaky whisper, a statement that felt like a betrayal of her own heart.
"You're not a good liar, Sookie," he murmured, the words a caress against her ear. His mouth moved tantalizingly close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he continued in a low voice, "I still remember what you taste like on my tongue, and the way your body clenched around me so fucking hard, that for a moment, I knew what heaven felt like." The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down her spine, her breath hitching in response. Before she could formulate a response, his phone began to ring, the sound cutting through the charged moment. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
He stepped back, his eyes locked onto hers as he answered the call. "It's not a good time, Pam," his tone was curt, his irritation evident.
Seizing what little restraint she had left, Sookie acted swiftly. The door swung open, and she slipped inside, her heart racing with a mix of emotions. She could almost feel his silent plea, his unspoken request not to shut him out.
"Don't do this," his lips formed the words, his eyes imploring as the door began to close.
"Goodnight, Eric," she managed, closing the door firmly behind her, cutting off any further communication.
"What? Yeah, I'm still here. What is it? Yeah, yeah. Ok. I am on my way" His exasperated response filtered through the closed door, and she leaned against it for a moment, taking in the tumultuous exchange that had just transpired.