After Amelia left to go back home to New Orleans, I felt sure I was going to spiral back down into my pit of despair. Instead, slowly and gradually, over the next couple of weeks, I really began to see an improvement.

Visiting with my brother and his girlfriend Michele, seeing Bill, talking to Tara and JB about their baby, along with spending the odd evening with Eric, had all made me feel much more like my former self. Things were settling back into a more normal routine, and I even found myself looking forward to the future. I felt useful and needed by those around me again, my appetite returned, and I was sleeping better and had more energy at work. I felt almost perky again.

Eric had also finally found the right moment to tell me about what had happened to him on the night I'd been kidnapped. Victor Madden had chained him in silver, forbidding him from coming to my aid, concocting some bullshit story about how Eric wasn't allowed to get involved in Fae business, and denying all knowledge of any marriage between us, or any protection from the King. I felt somehow better knowing what had happened to Eric that night when I'd been crying out for him, and understood his rage even more. I also felt a furious anger for Victor that I never imagined I could feel for anyone, other than my attackers. I found him a nice spot right at the top of the Sookie Stackhouse hate list, and in my head I began fantasizing about staking him.

I got a call from Eric saying he'd meet me one night after work to take me to Shreveport. He said there was a band on at Fangtasia that I might enjoy, and the thought of having some fun and maybe getting to dance, as well as seeing my vampire honey, had me jumping around the house excitedly. He said he'd pick me up at 9:00, and I made sure I had an early shift.

Because I was feeling heaps better and was so excited about my date, I pampered myself in the bath for way longer than I usually would before I got ready for work. I picked out a pretty cream dress I'd bought a couple of weeks previous from Tara's, when I'd prescribed myself some retail therapy. I laid it out ready, along with some of my best, sexiest underwear, and pulled out a pair of sandals with a small heel. The dress was just long enough that it would cover the worst of my scars, which were almost healed completely. I was tired of covering up, anyway.

I had a dreadful shift at work. Holly called, saying she was going to be late, and Sam asked if I could stay until she made it in. I reluctantly agreed, hoping that I'd still make it home in plenty of time before Eric arrived. Then, twice some dumb drunks knocked over their drinks and broke their glasses, and it fell on me to clear it up. Everyone seemed to choose that particular evening to be thinking dirty or disturbing thoughts, and I was having trouble keeping them out of my head.

"I wonder what it'd be like to have sex with a monkey."

"If my wife doesn't give me head tonight I'm divorcing her, for sure this time."

"How would it even work? Would they like it?"

"I really shouldn't try on her bras, but they make me feel so sensual. I wonder if anyone would notice if I wore one under my shirt at work."

"Monkeys are almost human anyway, right?"

"That's it, I'm gonna fuck my boss, then I'm gonna quit. Then I'm gonna tell his wife what a fucking bastard he is. Then I'm gonna screw her, as well."

"Where would I get a monkey from?"

And they called me the town freak.

"Hey!" I turned on my heel and strode toward monkey man with purpose. I picked up his empty glass from the table in front of him, and waved it in his face. "Sex with a monkey is definitely non-consensual, morally wrong, and I'm pretty sure it's in the Bible that monkey sex is a no go, definitely not in the rules."

The guy's mouth hung open, and his eyes bugged in shock. His friend sat motionless opposite him, totally confused as to why I'd come over and started preaching about the ethics of copulating with monkeys.

"I... I, er..."

"Even if it wasn't in the Bible, it's a monkey, what in the hell are you even thinking?"

Well, unfortunately, for me, I knew exactly what he was thinking. I stomped my foot, as frustrated at myself as I was at those around me. I knew better than to make my extra sense known, especially at work. What an idiot.

"Did I say all that stuff out loud? Can she hear inside my head? Oh God oh God she can, la-la-la-la not thinking about monkey sex oh fuck la-la-la-la..."

"Just..." I tried to recover the situation, grasping for some sort of way out of it. "Never mind. Just don't, all right? Did you want another beer?"

The man nodded slowly, his jaw still hanging slack.

"Coming up."

I turned and scooted off.

"Dude, why is that chick going on about you having sex with a monkey?"

What was wrong with me, I wondered, getting all uptight about some guy's weird thoughts? I usually just let it slide, since I was used to hearing much worse. I seriously needed to lose some of this tension.

I went around the back of the bar to pull the beer myself. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. I re-formed my shields, and tried to focus on thinking about what a great time I was going to have later on. I'd get to dress up, and dance, and see Pam. Plus I planned on kissing Eric's face off and banging him harder than a screen door in a hurricane. Our recent lovemaking sessions had been sort of tender and intimate, and while this had been just fine, truthfully, I was beginning to get a little jealous of our one-sided completion problem. I thought about what I might do to him later on to alleviate that problem. I imagined undressing him slowly, taking my sweet time, unwrapping him like a special gift...

"Sook?"

I felt a tingling down the back of my neck, and a warmth spread through me, right through to the tips of my fingers and toes. I knew this feeling well, by now. He was early.

"Hmm?" I mumbled dreamily, my eyes still closed.

"Sookie," Sam said, more sharply this time, and my eyes snapped open.

"Wha?"

"Beer?"

It was flowing over the glass.

"Oh, yeah." I quickly shut off the tap and wiped up. "Sorry."

I took nasty monkey man his beer and collected some empties. I was tidying the glasses behind the bar when Eric strode in. All eyes were focused on him as his gaze homed right in on me. His hair was tied back and braided, and he was wearing a brown leather jacket over a black tank, and some rather tight black jeans and heavy black boots. Boy, he looked good enough to eat. So good, in fact, that my mouth watered. Someone actually wolf-whistled.

He swaggered over and took a stool at the bar in front of me, completely ignoring the stares and whispers. A couple of seats down, Jane Bodehouse, our resident alcoholic, grinned at him.

"Hi," she said dreamily, through her booze-induced haze.

Eric turned to look at her. He gave her a quick, uninterested glance, then turned back to me.

"Good evening, my lover."

I leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"You're early. I thought you were meeting me at my house."

"I'm not that early," he said. "I thought you would've finished your shift by now." He looked over at Sam and gave him a displeased stare. Sam stared back for a moment before flicking his bar towel over his shoulder and looking away, quickly finding some menus to shuffle at the other end of the bar.

"Well, I probably should've been home by now, but Holly's had car trouble and she's gonna be late."

"And that is your problem because...?"

"I won't be long," I said, placing my hand on top of his. "You want a blood?"

He nodded.

I turned and bent over the refrigerator, taking my time sifting through the bottles.

"Do you always do that?" Eric said sharply, and I smiled to myself.

"What?" I shifted my weight to my other foot, making my butt wiggle.

"That. Shouldn't you be bending at the knees rather than the waist? There are health and safety guidelines, I'm sure. Does Merlotte not give you training on these things?"

I looked over my shoulder at him.

"Oh, don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"I thought you might."

I pulled out an O Negative TrueBlood and stood straight again.

"So tell me about this band we're seeing," I said, as I popped the bottle into the microwave. "What're they called again?"

"Dead Edd and the Dead Heads. I have no interest in them, but Pam is obsessed. She has pictures on her phone and on her computer desktop wallpaper. She's been trying to book them for ages."

"Pam's fangirling?"

"Fang what?"

"Doesn't matter. Will I like them?"

"Perhaps," Eric shrugged. "Apparently they're quite popular."

He took off his jacket, exposing some serious bicep goodness, and tossed it over the stool beside him. His black tank was tightly fitted, like the jeans, and showed off his magnificent torso perfectly. Jane Bodehouse made a strange wailing noise, fell off her chair and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

"You okay, Jane?" I asked, leaning over the bar.

A couple of guys came and helped her up. She laughed manically as they struggled to get her back on her feet.

"Whoo! Don't know what happened there!"

"Time to go home," Sam said as he came up behind her.

"I'll take her," another of our regulars said.

"I want him to take me," Jane slurred, pointing at Eric.

Eric raised an eyebrow at her as she was carried past him.

"What interesting patrons you have here."

"You might've helped. You could've caught her."

"Why? She might have been sick on me."

The microwave pinged and I turned to retrieve Eric's blood.

"Jane's never sick. She's a professional."

I shook the bottle and picked out a hi-ball glass, before pouring.

"I wanted a martini glass," Eric said, smirking at me. "And I want two straws. Blue ones."

"We've only got black straws."

"Can I have a sparkler?"

I sighed dramatically and cocked my hip.

"You're so demanding with your synthetic blood orders. Who do you think I am, your serving wench?"

"Oo." Eric smiled, and his eyes widened. "My serving wench?"

"Yeah, didn't you have those, back in Viking times? Big, busty women, spilling out of their dresses, serving flagon after flagon of ale or mead or whatever it is you drank, while getting groped by drunken men. I'm pretty sure I've read some-"

"You are certainly not a serving wench," Eric interrupted. "And if you are ever groped by drunken louts I will take great pleasure in taking those dirty hands, ripping them off and keeping them as trophies." He raised his voice as he said the last few words, and cocked an eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder. Lots of people got busy looking at their drinks or their feet.

"Eww, Eric."

"Of course, I know what you are capable of," he said, smirking at me. "I trust that you would at least break their wrists yourself."

"Oh, that's a little extreme. But sure, you know I can swing a punch when I need to, and I wield a pretty good tray."

"And that is one of the many things that makes you so wonderful, my lover."

I leaned forward on the bar and bent closer to him.

"You can grope me," I whispered, "without any nasty consequences."

"I can?"

"Uh-huh." He leaned forward to kiss me, but I pulled back before our lips could touch. "Later."

"Tease."

I placed a napkin in front of him and presented his blood. As he took a sip, Holly came rushing in, muttering apologies to Sam and going on about how unreliable her old Chevy was. I dropped my shields to check on whether she really had been having car troubles – she had – and was barraged with thoughts about myself and Eric. Some were disgusted at the sight of the blood I'd just poured him, others were busy checking him out, wondering what he'd look like naked and what it would feel like to be bitten by him. Someone was wondering how wild I had to be in the sack to be attracting the attentions of such a scary-looking vamp, and another had me dumb-founded in astonishment. Greg Aubert, the 'lucky' insurance salesman, was sitting with his wife Christy, by the door. He was actually thinking what a cute couple we made. I could've kissed him.

I cleaned up and did my handover with the still apologetic Holly, and grabbed my things from the office. Eric behaved himself while I was around the back, or at least I assume he did, since nobody got bitten, drained or laid out before I returned. I waved goodbye to Sam and exited the bar, Eric in tow.

We drove the short way to my house in my car, and I got ready in super-quick time, having prepared earlier. I gave myself a little pat on the back for my smart forward-thinking. I'd even pre-packed my little overnight bag with some essentials. I took my time with my make-up and hair, though. Eric tried to get me out of my new cream chiffon dress as soon as he saw me in it, but I was having no funny business. I wanted to have my date first. He declared that I was a picture of loveliness, and I felt better and more attractive than I had in months.

Eric had brought his Corvette, and on the way to Shreveport we talked about Pam's new obsession. He thought Dead Edd was just another in a long line of fads which would soon pass. I guess he'd seen a few in his time. He said Pam was once similarly smitten with Jon Bon Jovi, Doris Day, and Maurice Chevalier. Even though we were having fun chatting away, I could tell there was something on his mind, no doubt work-related. Eric was as busy as I had ever known him to be lately. I didn't ask. We both seemed to want to enjoy the break from the usual grind.

Pam came rushing up to me as soon as we entered Fangtasia.

"Sookie! You are just in time. Dead Edd, here! Are you excited?"

"I have no idea who this band is, Pam," I said, as we walked into the main bar area. The place was packed, and the security was tighter than usual, with big burly vamps and humans, and even what appeared to be a demon, keeping a close eye on the crowds. "Are they any good?"

"You don't even know who Dead Edd is? He is only the hottest vamp around right now. Apart from me," she added, with a grin. I'd never seen Pam so upbeat. I'd never seen her hair so big either. She'd back-combed her pale blonde locks into a huge bush that reminded me of cotton candy.

"And me," Eric added.

Pam glared at him for a moment before turning back to me.

"I had to pull all kinds of strings to book them. But look at how busy we are." She gestured with her arm and looked at Eric. "I told you."

Eric didn't respond. He helped me remove my jacket, and bent to kiss my cheek.

"I need to make some calls, I won't be long. Pam, no crowd-surfing." He gestured towards the bar, and one of the human staff immediately came over to take my drink order. He wandered off around the back with my jacket, and the crowd parted to let him through, gawping at him the whole time.

Looking around the bar, I realized that I stuck out like a nun in a nudist colony. Everyone was wearing the obligatory black, with the occasional dash of color. Leather, PVC and crushed velvet appeared to be the materials of choice. Pam herself was wearing a short leather skirt and black net top which showed her bra, and fishnets. She always managed to pull an outfit off, no matter whether it was a pink twinset and slacks or something more extreme like this one. But I knew she couldn't wait to get out of her work attire and into something more comfortable.

"I feel a little, er, bright," I said, leaning into Pam. I twisted a lock of my perfectly waved hair around a finger, and re-adjusted the strap of my purse over my shoulder as I scanned the crowd again. Yep. Definitely sticking out. The waitress came back and handed me my gin and tonic.

Pam gave me the once over.

"You look very well," she said. "The pale shade of the dress really shows off your tan, but I assume you know that. I wouldn't worry about sticking out, nobody's likely to bother you, here. I would think you'd be used to being a little different. Did your breasts get bigger, or is it the bra?"

"Um-"

"Oh, shush," she said, gripping my arm as the lights dimmed.

"Ow. Pam, will you-"

"Here they are! Come on." She dragged me through the crowd toward the front of the stage, and everyone seemed more than happy to move when they realized it was Pam trying to get through. I stumbled after her, trying not to spill my drink.

"And now," a voice announced as we found a place to stand right at the front, "please give a warm, fangtastic Shreveport welcome to the one, the only, Dead Edd and the Dead Heads!"

Everyone cheered and clapped, and I got so carried away with the wave of excitement that I whooped for the fun of it. Someone to my right gave a particularly loud 'oof oof oof', and I turned and looked up at the tall figure beside me.

"Clovache?"

"Sookie Stackhouse," the Britlingen responded.

I smiled at her, but the band started playing, so that put an end to the conversation.

Dead Edd was a punky-looking vamp with spiked bleached blond hair. He was bare-chested, and wore silver leather pants. He liked to scowl and show his fangs a lot. The Dead Heads were a rough, motley bunch of vampires, sporting a variety of extreme hair-dos, spiked collars, tattoos and the like. The drummer had an impressive pompadour that even Bubba would've been proud of. Edd himself was a charismatic front-man, and actually rather good-looking, if you liked that kind of thing, which a lot of people seemed to. Girls screamed as he sang and thrust his hips at the audience. He even cast a few lascivious glances in my direction. Pam and Clovache were both dancing and singing along. Even though it wasn't my usual preferred kind of music, the atmosphere was infectious, and I found myself dancing and clapping along with everyone else.

Nobody so much as bumped into me, with Pam and the Britlingen on either side of me, and someone even brought me a fresh drink.

At some point, maybe the fifth song in, someone threw their panties at the stage and this started a trend of various items of underwear flying over my head. Never one to be outdone, Pam hitched up her leather skirt and rolled down her fishnet hose.

"Pam! What're you doing?"

"People are throwing clothing."

After slipping her heels back on, she rolled the hosiery into a tight ball, and gave them a quick sniff before launching them at Edd's head. They hit him bang between the eyes. Being the professional he was, he never even flinched.

"Bingo," I heard Pam say. "Are you not going to throw something, Sookie?"

"No."

Clovache moved beside me, and I turned to see her launch the largest pair of support underwear I'd ever seen. I would never have imagined she'd need it, since I knew she was so strong and muscular. It was sort of light brown in color – nude, I suppose it would've been called, but nude things never look the color of nude, to me - and probably designed to cinch in her waist and stomach, as well as slim down her butt and thighs. I had no idea how she'd even managed to remove it, since her black bodysuit was still zipped up to the neck. She must have put some real force behind her throw, too, because it hit the drum kit and the high-hat got knocked over.

Pam gave her a high-five over my head.

After that, things got messier and more raucous, and I indicated to Pam that I was going to retreat farther back. She was having too much fun to care, and just nodded at me. It took me a while to barge my way through the crowd, as politely as possible, but I finally managed it. I spotted Eric sitting at the bar along with a couple of other hangers-back, and grinned as I stumbled forward and fell into his arms.

"Pam threw her tights!"

Eric smiled and shook his head.

"Whatever incites such an odd reaction?"

"Nobody ever threw their underwear at you?" I said, sipping on the last of my drink. It was warm and watery, and I pulled a face and placed the glass on the bar. A fresh one magically appeared. "Are you jealous?"

"No. But you can throw your underwear at me, if you want."

I pressed myself closer to him, leaning forward in between his parted thighs, and slid my arms around his neck. I gave him a long, lingering kiss. My spirits were high, and the gin had relaxed my inhibitions a little. I didn't care if any of the fang-bangers saw, or anyone else for that matter.

"Large burping drink," Clovache said beside me, and I turned around. "The brown one. No ice. My gratitude."

Someone poured her a Coke, and she paid for it before downing it in about five seconds.

I wondered where Batanya was, but I didn't ask. They were work colleagues, I supposed, and Clovache seemed very much off-duty. I wondered if she'd traveled from her own dimension especially for the show, or if she had an assignment around these parts. I guessed Eric hadn't hired her, since even he would've had trouble finding the cash to pay the Britlingen's extortionate fees for their security services.

"You a big fan of Dead Edd?" I asked her, shouting over the noise.

"I like the drummer," she said. "Dead Ted."

"Oh."

Then she was off again, stomping her way back through the crowd.

I watched the rest of the show from the back. I danced along with the music; I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much fun. At some point Pam got up on stage only to fling herself off again, and people in the crowd caught her. I turned to Eric to see his reaction, and I saw he was watching me, smiling, his face soft and open.

"Did you see Pam?" I asked. He reached his hand out to me and I took it, and he pulled me closer.

"No."

"She just jumped off the stage into the crowd."

I looked back and saw that people were passing her over their heads.

"Stage-diving," Eric said. "I told her no crowd-surfing."

Someone set her down when she reached the back. She didn't even stop to rest before she was pushing her way back to the front again.

"You enjoying the show?" I asked him.

"I'm enjoying watching you enjoy the show. You are far more entertaining than these idiots."

I leaned back against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me.

"I want you," he whispered at my ear, making me shiver all over. He slid a finger beneath the strap of my dress and traced a path down my shoulder blade. I felt his other hand on my back, touching the zipper. I thought of it as a reconnaissance mission, so he could get me out of my clothes that bit more quickly when we were alone. I closed my eyes and smiled, as he kissed my neck.

"I cannot wait any longer," he said. "Have you seen enough? Shall we go home?"

I turned in his arms and nodded, giving his thigh a good, firm squeeze. He took my glass from me and put it down on the bar. We went around the back to his office to collect our things, before exiting through the rear door.

"You are happy," Eric said, as we walked to his car. He opened the door for me and I slid inside.

"Sure. I had a great time on my date."

"Date?" he said as he got behind the wheel. "We are married, you remember."

I rolled my eyes at him. Married schmarried.

"You think Pam will be going home with Dead Edd tonight?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Probably. Then she will get bored and the phase will be over."

"I wonder if Clovache will get lucky with the drummer," I mumbled, as I looked out the window.

As soon as we got to his house and Eric closed the door, his lips were on mine. We dropped our things on the floor, flung off our jackets, and kicked off our shoes, kissing frenziedly all the while. I decided to have some fun with him, making him work for it by squirming out of his embrace and running off, but of course he caught me almost immediately. Playing cat and mouse with a predator as quick as Eric was hardly sport. Getting caught was the best part, anyway.

Just as I'd gotten his belt buckle undone, his cell phone rang. Eric reluctantly pulled it from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and answered. I tried not to listen in, but I couldn't help but overhear. The gist of the conversation was that nobody was answering the phone at Fangtasia, and arrangements needed to be made for some visitors from another area the following night. I had a feeling that they were Victor's orders.

Eric paced unhappily from room to room as he tried to reach someone to do the work for him, but in the end, after apologizing to me and giving me a quick kiss, he retreated into his office to take care of the business himself.

I made some toast and grabbed some juice from the fridge, impressed that Eric, or at least someone, maybe Bobby, had actually purchased a few basic human groceries. I took my bag upstairs, got out one of my books, laid out on the bed and began to read. At some point I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew I felt Eric behind me, kissing my shoulder, and my eyelids were flickering open.

"Was I asleep long?" I asked groggily. "Was I snoring?"

"No."

I felt him tug the zipper of my dress down, and he kissed my shoulder blades. I reached behind me and realized he was already naked.

"Shoot," I muttered under my breath.

"What?"

"I was planning on undressing you, or at least watching you get undressed. I missed it."

I felt him smile against my skin. He pressed his lips to the curve of my neck and kissed me there. The sensation sent shivers down my spine.

"Do you want me to dress again?"

I turned over and my dress got bunched up, so I sat up and pulled it off over my head.

"Maybe later."

I laid back down beside him and we kissed, long and leisurely, taking our time, enjoying the moment. Eric's hair was still tied back, so I took the band out and shook it free through my fingers. It was all kinky from having been tightly braided, and the sight of it made me laugh.

"What is funny?" Eric asked.

"It looks like you crimped your hair. It looks pretty."

In response to me making fun of him, he rolled me on my back and reached his hand underneath me, unhooking my ivory lace bra single-handedly.

"How'd you do that?" I asked, genuinely impressed.

"It's one of my many talents," he answered, his lips trailing over my chest as he leaned over me, tossing the bra aside. He massaged my bare breasts in his hands as he kissed them, his crimped hair fanning out over my chest. Then he reached a hand down, and slid his fingers down the side of my underwear, tugging.

"Wait!"

Eric looked up at me, his eyebrows drawn together.

"What?"

"I need to fling my underwear at you. I feel bad that you never had anyone do that. You were a bit jealous of Dead Edd, right? All the underwear attention he was getting tonight?"

He rolled his eyes at me.

"Yes, I was incredibly jealous that I never had Clovache the body-building Britlingen throw her immense, possibly bullet proof, underpants at my head."

"I knew you were," I giggled, as I rolled off the bed.

Eric sat up against the pillows, and pursed his lips, smiling impishly as he watched me trot to the end of the bed, bouncing and jiggling as I went. I stood there for a moment, wondering whether it was possible to do this in any way that might be even slightly sexy. Eric seemed to be enjoying the show, though. His fangs were suddenly out, and Mr. Happy was very happy.

I hooked my thumbs under the elastic of my itty bitty lacy panties, and wiggled. Eric's mouth fell open and he clenched the sheets tightly in his fists. I took my time, teasing him, pulling down one side and then the other, turning around to give him a rear view. I started to really enjoy myself, and regretted not being more fully clothed so I could give him a real show. Maybe another time.

"Sookie..."

I turned to the side and bent over as I slowly wriggled my underwear down my legs, watching Eric the whole time. When they were at my feet, I picked them up, hooked a thumb inside, pulled them back, and aimed for his head. They fell short, landing on his chest. I needed more practice.

Eric didn't move, he just carried on staring at me, growling a little.

I knelt on the bed, in between his feet, and crawled up slowly, stroking his legs as I went. I felt like I wanted to growl too, but of course I didn't. That would just have been over the top. When I reached his thighs I knelt over him, my knees at either side of his waist, and leaned down to kiss him. I flung my underwear aside and pressed open-mouthed kisses to his chest. Eric's fingers threaded through my hair as I licked and sucked at one of his nipples, and then nibbled. I pinched at the other with my fingers, before sliding my hand down his body to touch him.

Eric groaned, and pressed down on the back of my head, and I bit him harder. His body tensed beneath me, and then in a flash he had me rolled onto my back. Suddenly, his lips were everywhere, and his hands were too. We rolled around the bed, kissing and groping each other. His fingers slid between my thighs, and I felt like I was going to explode from the pleasure of his touch. He alternated between probing inside me and teasing my most sensitive part, which was swollen in arousal and begging for more attention. He kissed me, his tongue driving me wild, intensifying the warm sensations flowing up through my body.

"Oh. Eric. Oh!" I couldn't seem to stop saying 'oh'. "Oh."

"I love that sound," Eric whispered, his fingers working inside me.

"What sound?" I breathed.

"The sound of your pleasure. Your breaths. Your moans." He kissed me again, and I moaned into his mouth. "It has a most curious effect on me. You make me ache for you. I would do anything, my love."

"Oh. Now, Eric," I said, rolling onto my back. I grabbed his arm and pulled him with me. "I need you. Now."

I laid back, and Eric knelt between my legs, his butt on the bed so he was on a level with me. I rested my thighs on top of his, as he took me by the waist and pulled me closer. Then he took his penis in his hand, and pressed the head against my tight, sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing it against me, making me breathe even harder and eliciting more 'oh's. Then he slid right inside.

His hands stroked my stomach and breasts as he wound his hips, thrusting in and out of me. My back arched as his fingers brushed against my pleasure center again, and I worked my own hips in time with his. We both began to moan more loudly, as the exquisite pleasure and tension began to build inside.

One of his hands was at my waist, and I grabbed onto it with both of mine, gripping him, and we began to move faster, harder.

And then, it happened. It seemed to come from out of nowhere. I orgasmed. I orgasmed like I'd never orgasmed before. I was back on the bike and I was leading the Tour de France. I was wearing the yellow jersey, and I was breaking through the tape with my hands held aloft in victory, punching the air in triumph. I might have screamed, there were certainly some loud, incoherent noises. Who knows what came out of my mouth, some of it might have been filthy. My whole body seemed to shudder and jerk from my head to my toes, as the sweet sensation flooded through me. It was an intense ride.

When I finally managed to open my eyes, I saw Eric looking down at me, his face a mixture of concern and excitement.

"You... Are you... all right?"

"I am very, very all right," I replied, my voice a breathy whisper. "I'm so all right I might just slide off the bed and lie in a puddle on the floor."

"So that was good for you?" he said, smiling proudly. "Better than it's been?"

"You knew that?" He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Well, of course you knew. I just... had some issues that had to work themselves out."

"I knew it couldn't be my lovemaking, wife of mine."

"Don't call me your wife," I said, though I was too relaxed and happy to really be irked by the use of the term. "You know our so-called marriage is just strategy. To get back to your previous statement. A-one lovemaking, Eric. The no-orgasm problem was in my head. Now I've self-corrected."

"You are bullshitting me, Sookie," he said. "But I'll show you some A-one lovemaking. Because I think you can come again."

Turned out, Eric was right, I could come again. In fact, I was coming like it was going out of fashion. I reveled in our lovemaking, feeling like I could go on and on, like I never wanted the night to end.

Finally, we laid curled up together, spooning. We snuggled beneath the tangled sheets.

"It will be dawn soon," Eric murmured against my temple. "The last thing I want to do is leave you. I would spend all day making love to you if I could."

I smiled and squeezed his fingers.

"Can I come and sleep downstairs with you?"

I was pretty exhausted, but I wanted to fall asleep with him there with me.

"Of course, if you want."

I watched as he stepped out of bed and began gathering the clothes he'd removed earlier before I'd woken from my nap. I propped myself up on an elbow against the pillows, and my eyes took in his beautiful naked form. The strong, broad shoulders, the huge biceps, the muscular chest and lean stomach, the slim hips. The long, athletic legs, the thighs. The butt. Oh, the butt. He was a walking, talking lesson in anatomical perfection, carved from fine marble. I sighed.

"Did you want me to dress again?" he said. He pulled on his jeans, and zipped up. "So that you can undress me?"

I chuckled tiredly.

"Sure. Why not."

He bent down to check himself out in the mirror over the vanity that Pam had picked out for my room in Eric's house. He ran a hand through his long, wild hair, shaking it out, and I admired the way it fell over his shoulders and down his back.

"Lookin' gorgeous, as always," I smiled.

Eric turned and smiled back.

"You like what you see?"

"How could I not? Hey, were all Vikings as hot as you, or are you really just some freak of nature?"

"No. I was the hottest Viking in history. There were songs written. I won awards."

"Oh really?" I said, unable to hold back my giggle. "Did you win the best Viking butt award?"

"Six years running."

"Were you the tallest?"

"In my village I was. I never came across many taller. Certainly none as handsome."

"I'll bet you were the cockiest as well."

"My 'cocky' was much admired, yes, and undoubtedly the most impressive I had ever personally caught sight of."

I snorted and shook my head at him.

"That's so lame."

Eric smirked at me, his face mischievous and playful. It seemed as though the both of us had found some extra satisfaction in my release that night. I hadn't even really considered how my little orgasm problem might have affected him, too. He looked at me for a moment, having his own minute of ogle time. I could see the desire building as his attention refocused on me. He bent to pick up his belt from the floor, and stepped towards me.

"Do you know how sexy you look, laid out naked like that on the completely trashed bed?" He knelt beside me, his knees parted wide on the mattress. He reached forward and cupped my face in his palm, brushing his thumb across my cheek. "Like a goddess."

I took the belt from his other hand, and sat up, kneeling in front of him.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" I asked, as I slid the belt through the first loop of his jeans.

"Well, I have a lot of work to catch up on, and some important meetings scheduled, but I could perhaps make some time, for you." He looked down at me, his eyes meeting mine before his gaze focused on my chest. "You could convince me to make some time."

I wiggled closer, pressing my breasts against his body as I slid the belt through another loop. I ran my palm up and down his spine, before slipping my other arm around his waist, to pull the belt through.

"I'll make it worth your while," I purred, looking up at him seductively. "Now I've got my mojo back, I feel like I need to catch up."

I slid the belt through the final loop and grabbed onto both ends, pulling him toward me. I ran my tongue over his hard abs, and slipped my hand down the back of his jeans to get myself a handful of that spectacular butt. I stretched up for a kiss, and I could feel Eric straining through his pants as our bodies pressed closer.

"It's very close to dawn," Eric said raggedly, as I tugged his jeans down over his hips. I stroked his hardness tenderly with my fingers, and bent my head down to kiss him, teasing him with my tongue.

Pleasuring Eric this way had gotten a lot easier, since I'd learned a few techniques and been able to relax and enjoy it. After I'd gotten him good and worked up, I sat up and leaned my head to the side, exposing my neck as I continued to stroke him with my hand. He brushed my hair back over my shoulder, and bunched it up in his fist. Then he slowly leaned forward, pressed his lips to my neck, gave a deep, low growl, and bit.

Even though I knew it was coming, it was still a shock. The sharp pain of it soon turned to pleasure. I could feel him sucking hard, greedily. He moaned against my warm skin, and I worked him harder and faster.

His fist closed tighter in my hair, and he threw his head back and roared as he came in my hand. He gave little grunts and thrust his hips, as I continued to milk him, my fingers now slick with his come.

"Sookie," he said, as he looked down at me. His fingers unclenched in my hair as his body relaxed, and he massaged my head. "Sookie," he repeated. He kissed at my neck where he'd bitten, softly and delicately at first, then he licked at my skin, healing the wounds. "My Sookie."

He kissed me on my lips, my cheeks, my forehead.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked.

"Definitely," Eric growled.

I washed up in the bathroom across the hall, pulled on my silky nightdress, and went downstairs to join Eric in his cubby. I tapped in the code, and the door closed automatically behind me. Eric had switched on the lamp beside the bed, and the room felt warm and welcoming. He was already beneath the covers. Anyone would think he really was just going to sleep. It still seemed a world away from going to ground under some floorboards in a cold, uncomfortable hole. He looked up, his eyes half-open, and reached his hand out to me. I slid under the sheets with him.

"You are working tomorrow evening," Eric said quietly.

"Uh-huh."

"I've arranged a car to pick you up at 3:00."

"Thanks."

"You remember the codes?"

"Yep."

"I will try to get to your house by 1:30 tomorrow. If I can't make it until later, I'll call."

I snuggled up close to him, and he slid his arm under my neck. Eric's bicep made a hard and yet surprisingly comfortable pillow.

"Sweet dreams, lover," he mumbled, his words becoming more of a struggle. And then he was dead to the world. I could tell, because he went absolutely still and didn't react when I ran my palm over his shoulder and down his arm. I squeezed his hand, but he didn't squeeze back.

"I love you," I whispered, before I fell asleep. My sleep was deep, peaceful and uninterrupted.

I woke up smiling.

A/N: So that's it! Hope you enjoyed my attempt to fill in the blanks between the books. I should probably mention that the 6 or 7 lines of the 'A-one lovemaking' bit was lifted from Dead in the Family, but I'm sure you all know that! So please don't sue me, Ms Harris.

Thanks to everyone who alerted and reviewed, it's much appreciated! Please feel free to message me with any comments, feedback, requests, cake and bread recipes, poems about small animals, lists of amusing euphemisms for penises, Askars' phone number, etc.

Not sure what I'll be working on next, but if anyone has anything in particular they'd be interested in reading from me then I will happily consider it! Perhaps I'll be inspired after Deadlocked. Maybe I will actually write that 'rival beauty salon' fic, or reveal more about Eric's days as a zoo keeper. Who knows?

My thanks, as always, to the lovely RubySun03 for beta-ing the story. Stacey, your kindness makes me weep small, salty droplets all over the place.