She look good when she
wakes up in the morning
Even better than she did last night
And when she smiles at me
and kisses my cheek
I’m thinking Lord I must be living right
I ain’t about to say I ain’t lucky
She gets me high as a Georgia pine
Wild as a muscadine vine
Hotter than the deep south summer time
Yeah everybody knows she’s mine
Well there might be a couple kind of like her
But rest assure brother this one’s mine
I’ll be right there in her back pocket
Saw you looking when she was with me
I don’t blame you she’s a hell of a girl, now
I’m the luckiest man in the world
“Everybody Knows She’s Mine” – BlackBerry Smoke
I thought last night was perfect, and it was, but it has nothing on this morning. I am most definitely the luckiest man in the world!
I knew it in my after orgasm haze last night and I’m even more sure of it this morning. I thought God hated me yesterday. Now I think I must be his favorite, because how else could I get such an amazing woman to love me? I know for damn sure I don’t deserve her, but I vow right this minute I won’t ever let myself forget how fortunate I am to have her.
I’m sure I look like a goofy idiot- sitting on a bed completely naked with a huge smile on my face- but I really don’t give a shit. Apparently this is what being in love feels like and I don’t ever want it to stop. I feel like I could take on the world right now and never lose my smile.
As if just thinking about her makes her appear, my angel comes walking back into the room. She has a very dangerous combination of sweet and sexy going on too. Seeing her wearing my clothes along with her golden halo of bed head and that sweet smile lighting up her face is tightening me up in all kinds of ways.
“Sweetie! Tristan’s waitin on you, why aren’t you dressed yet? Are you okay? Do you need help?” she frets, coming to stand between my legs and petting my face.
I pull her closer and wrap her in my arms, “I’m perfect, Sookie. You love me, how could I not be,” I mumble against her chest.
She hugs me gently, watching out for my broken bones as always, then lifts my face up to look at her, “I do love you, so very much,” she says, before leaning over and kissing me softly.
“I love you more,” I smile against her lips.
I see something ghost across her eyes but then she smiles back giving me another quick kiss. After that, much to my dislike, she straightens up and pulls away a bit, “As much as I want to spend the whole day in this bed with you, we can’t. Tristan has other patients to get to, so you have to get up, okay?” she says, stoking my cheek with the back of her fingers.
“As long as you promise we can come back to bed as soon as he leaves,” I smirk up at her.
She giggles against the top of my head as she hugs me again, “You’re a mess, but I promise. Now come on.”
I reluctantly get up and let her help me get dressed and then we make a trip to the bathroom. I’m shocked when she pulls my pants down for me the second I get to the toilet. She pats my ass then nonchalantly goes over the vanity. I just kind of stand there staring at her with my dick hanging out. Literally. I figured she’d run out of the bathroom like she has every other time she’s helped me in here.
She smiles at my reflection in the mirror, “Are you sure you’re okay, sweetie?”
I give her a lop-sided grin and a nod, then do my business.
But the domesticity of watching her brush her hair in the mirror while I pee, floors me. She acts like it’s no big deal, which I guess after being married it wouldn’t be, but I haven’t done anything like this. I was never this personal or comfortable with any of the other women I slept with and even being thrown into living together last week we still hadn’t crossed into this territory. It’s surreal, but oddly enough I like it. Not the fact that I’m peeing in front of her, but that we’ve made it to this level of comfort already. It’s pretty cool.
After she helps me get my shorts and boxers back to rights she kisses my shoulder then leaves me to brush my teeth so she can get dressed. I hurry through that, then hobble out to meet this Tristan dude. I have a feeling I’m gonna have a love hate relationship with him. I want to speed up my recovery, but I’m not looking forward to the pain he’s gonna put me through to achieve that.
I find him standing in the living room filling out paper work on his clipboard. For some reason I immediately start sizing him up, even though I’m not one to normally do that.
He’s definitely shorter than me, by at least a good five or six inches. He’s smaller built too, not that I’m a roid head or anything, but still. All and all, he’s a shrimp.
Eric 1, Tristan- A big fat ZERO.
By the look of his arms he obviously works out though. He has a sleeve of tattoos on each of them, and I can see them under his collar too. I got nothing against those, unless Sookie likes them.
Eric 2, Tristan 1 I also get a point for working out.
He’s got dark hair and eyes. Sookie likes my blonde and she just told me not forty-five minutes ago that my blue eyes are her second favorite thing about me.
Eric 3, Tristan 1
He comes to life as soon as he realizes I’m in the room. “Oh hey! There you are. I’m Tristan. It’s nice to meet you, Eric.”
Shit, he has manners and a friendly smile.
Eric 4, Tristan 2. I’m gonna hold off on giving him a point for being friendly. First impressions aren’t everything.
“Hey, nice to meet you too, I think. I’ll tell you for sure after I see what kind of torture you have planned for me,” I joke, shaking his hand.
He laughs and then throws his clipboard back into his bag, “I’ll take it easy on you today. I just want to see where you’re at and then Wednesday we can really get to work. Sound like a plan?”
“Yep, I wanna be back to normal asap, so bring it on.”
“My kinda patient. Walk back and forth a time or two with the crutch and then without and let me see how your range of motion is. Take it easy though, we’re not trying for any awards today.”
I make three turns around the living room. With the crutch it isn’t so bad, but without hurts like a bitch today. I can’t help but grin knowing why that is.
“Bet it’s nice to be able to move around huh?” he smiles when he notices mine.
If you only knew buddy.
“Yeah, much better than how I’ve been the last few weeks,” I answer both his thoughts and mine.
Next he waves me towards the recliner, “Alright, you’re not doing half bad considering. You’re really stiff, but that’s completely normal. Take a seat, everything else we can do with you sitting down.”
I lower myself down while he holds the chair still for me.
“Let’s see how your arm’s doing. Do a couple of curls for me.”
I do those with no problem.
“Good. Now I want you to push down on my fist and then push it up. Try not to use your bi’s or tri’s too much,” he says, holding his arm out to me. “Like I said before though, no heroics.”
Yeah, that hurts. And I can’t believe how weak my arm has gotten in just a few weeks.
He notices my disappointment. “Hey, no worries, man. You got shot and you’ve hardly used it in three weeks. It’s not just the bone healing but your muscles too, it’s gonna take some time. I’ll give you a few gentle exercises to do over the next month to keep it moving and once your shoulder-blade is completely healed you can go back to the heavy weights. It’ll be back to normal in no time. I’m gonna stretch your leg, knee, and ankle a bit now. It’s not gonna feel good, but we need to see how much work we have to do. Let me know the second it’s too much, alright?”
“Yep. Go for it.”
He takes my leg in his hands, one under my ankle and the other just below my knee, and lifts it up as far as my muscles and ligaments will let him then down to a more comfortable level.
I’m stiff for sure, but there really isn’t any pain.
He shifts the hand he has on my ankle to the bottom of my foot and puts the other one above my knee on my thigh this time and slowly presses my knee towards my chest.
“Where’d you feel that?” he asks, when he sees me wince.
“Umm, mostly my ankle and knee. They’re really stiff. But it wasn’t too bad.”
“Alright, push against my hand until your leg is straight,” he tells me, squeezing my foot as he gently presses against it.
I press back against him until I get it straight, but FUCKING A, does it hurt.
“Yeah, that one will probably be your toughest to overcome. This type of movement puts more pressure on your bones than walking does. You’ll hate my guts the first time I make you do squats,” he says, with a slight smirk.
I might already hate you asshole.
Still holding my leg, he says, “I want you to flex your foot forward then backwards. Go slow and easy.”
Son of a bitch! I don’t know which way is worse. Both make it feel like my ankle is going to explode.
Sookie’s suddenly by my side and pries my hand off the armrest to hold in hers. “Is it really necessary to make it so painful for him?” she asks, brushing my hair off my forehead gently.
I forget about the pain when I see her. She’s wearing what must be one of the new outfits she got yesterday. It’s a pair of tight black shorts and a baby blue top that’s all soft and flowy looking. She looks amazing in it. Her hair is falling in waves around her beautiful face and she has on just a tiny bit of lip gloss and mascara, just like the day I met her. The glow she’s had about her since last night is still there and the pink that’s blooming in her cheeks as I stare at her makes her absolutely breathtaking. At least to me anyway.
“I’m afraid so, Sookie. No pain, no gain they say,” Tristan says, brightly, breaking us out of our love bubble. His smirk has turned into a hundred watt smile as he looks at Sookie.
Yep, I fucking hate him and the way her name sounded coming out of his mouth makes me want to deck him. Not to mention how he’s looking at her.
Keep it up asshole, keep it up.
“Therapy isn’t a walk in the park. It’s gonna take a lot of work to get this leg back to normal and pain free,” he continues, rolling my ankle around, none too gently, the whole time.
I jerk my foot against his hold, ignoring the shock of pain it sends up my leg, trying to wake him up from his Sookie stupor. I get it, she gorgeous, but she’s mine!
His smile falters a bit when he finally peels his eyes off my girl and looks at me. I have no doubt my anger is very evident. He does his best to recover, plastering a fake smile on his face. “You’re doing great, man. Really,” he sputters.
I glare at him. I’ll just blame it on the pain.
Sookie turns my scowling face toward her worried one. Seeing those blues eyes and the love they hold calms me a bit. “You okay? I’m sure he’ll let you take a break if you need it.”
Nope. No way am I letting asshole think I’m a wimp. “I’m good, angel. This is nothing compared to getting shot,” I smile at her and pull her down for a quick kiss. She doesn’t hesitate to return it.
Take that buddy.
“I’m gonna go fix you breakfast then, if you’re good without me,” she says, reaching up to smooth my hair down with a grin. I didn’t bother to brush it earlier, it’s probably a mess after last night and this morning.
I kiss her other hand, “I’m good. I promise,” I assure her. “Breakfast sounds fantastic. I need to replenish some of my energy,” I tease her with a wink.
She rolls her eyes and does her best not to smile too much then leans over again and kisses my cheek, “I’m looking forward to depleting it again,” she stops to whisper in my ear before she stands up and walks away.
I turn and watch her sweet little ass, being so loving caressed in those shorts, as she heads to the kitchen. Just before she gets there I call out to her, “Hey, Sookie?”
She stops, turning back to look at me, “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
I can see the blush rising on her cheeks from way over here, and her brilliant smile too. “I love you too, Eric,” she says, then blows me a kiss before disappearing.
I look back at asshole with a big smile, his is barely hanging on.
He shakes his head, “You’re one lucky bastard, dude. How long ya’ll been married?” he asks.
To lie or not to lie?
“I am very lucky and we’re not married yet, but we’re working on it,” I tell him.
There, I didn’t lie, not really.
“Well best of luck to you then,” he smirks.
“Thanks. How soon before you can get me mobile enough to dance?” I ask him.
He gives me a dubious look, “You need to dance at the wedding?”
“No. Sookie was never able to go to prom so I’m going to put one together for her. The works. But none of that will matter if I can’t dance with her most of the night.”
“Nice man, she’ll love that. Any woman would. Uh, I’d say two months before you can be on it for several hours straight without it killing you. You’ll need to block out three or four days after to get over it too.”
Tristan stays another thirty minutes or so, then finally packs up and leaves. If I could’ve moved around good enough I would’ve shoved his smiling ass out the door much sooner. When Sookie came back with my breakfast he only had eyes for her, she smiled back at him, but you could tell she was just being polite. He’s supposed to be coming here three times a week for the next month or so too.
Just no. Hell no.
Sookie can take me to his office and drop me off. Or I’ll get Al to come get me. Either way, he’s not coming back out here to flirt with her.
“Hey you. What’s got you all scowly?” Sookie asks, suddenly sitting on the couch beside me.
“Hey. Where’d you come from?” I dodge her question with one of my own, adding my best smile as another distraction. It’s real though, I can’t help but smile when I see her.
She leans over and kisses my lips when I pucker them up towards her, “I just finished cleaning the kitchen and putting supper in the oven. How does roast and potatoes sound?”
“Delicious! Now come here. We were rudely interrupted earlier. I wasn’t finished with you yet,” I growl playfully and try to grab at her.
She squeals but easily avoids my grasp.
“You promised, Sookie,” I pout, giving her my best sad face, lip out and all.
“Awwww, poor baby. I do believe I may have created a monster,” she giggles as she climbs on my lap and settles firmly over my growing erection.
I nibble on her neck, rubbing my scruff over her sensitive skin, “You have and he’s gonna eat you alive,” I growl again.
Her laughter fills the room as she squirms over me. “Wait! Stop!” she begs, breathless.
I give into her pleas, laying my head back against the couch and enjoying the view. She’s so fucking beautiful.
She runs her hands over my three day beard with a smile on her face, “You need a shave and a haircut,” she says, reaching up and fluffing my hair with her fingers. “Would you let me do it?”
Mr. Mike is the only person who’s ever cut my hair, but she looks so hopeful I can’t tell her no.
“Sure, I don’t see why not. We can always shave it off if you mess it up,” I smirk at her.
“Hey! I may just shave it on purpose now,” she threatens, with an adorable attempt at an evil grin.
“Do you have any idea how happy you make me?” I blurt out.
Her bottom lip vanishes between her teeth and her eyes do a perfect imitation of the cutest puppy on earth. Then I’m engulfed by her soft, warm body as she hugs me, “Probably as happy as I am because of you,” she whispers.
We wind up a sweaty, panting mess about thirty minutes later, Sookie’s quota for the day up to five. She’s so responsive to my touch you would think we’ve been together for years. I love it.
We take a nice long nap after that, me in the recliner and her on the couch. She insisted, worried she’d hurt me. Once we wake up we eat a late lunch and fold some laundry while watching another episode of Lost. Then she convinces me to let her cut my hair and give me a shave.
She puts one of the kitchen chairs out on the back porch for me to sit on then helps me get me settled with a towel around my neck. She disappears back into the house and a minute later Van Morrison’s voice begins to float out through the open doors and windows. He’s singing about coming home and rocking gypsy souls. I hear her sitting things down on the table behind me, then her fingers are sliding around my neck and across my jaw. Her flowy top has been replaced with a tight little tank top that shows off her girls and will no doubt give me a few peeks of her smooth stomach every time she lifts her arms up.
“Cut or shave first?” she inquires softly.
She smiles as she moves behind me. I hear water gently splashing and dribbling just before I feel it doing the same over my hair. Her fingers work it through the strands and into my scalp. Twice more and she has it wet enough to easily run a comb through it.
This is almost as great as the first time she washed my hair in the shower.
The scissors snip and snap each time she gathers my hair between her fingers. It certainly feels like she knows what she’s doing. Mr. Mike may be short one customer soon. I almost screw up and ask her how she knows how to do this, but thank all that’s holy I stop myself. It really doesn’t take more than one guess that it was Trey’s hair she cut and probably Lucas’ too if he had enough.
She starts humming and quietly singing along with Van, off-key of course, and it’s adorable. If she wasn’t so engrossed in her work I’d be kissing her senseless right now, but I refrain, just enjoying this new experience for what it is- the most erotic haircut I’ve ever had.
Her breasts keep brushing against my back and arms and every time her fingers run over my scalp I feel it in my dick. Her warm breath flowing into my ears as she cuts the hair over them is enough to make me squirm and being so close to her sexy body yet not being able to touch her is killing me. She seems oblivious to how much she’s teasing me though, just smiling sweetly when our eyes meet every few minutes.
She’s finished way sooner than I want her to be, but moves right on to shaving my face. An almost hot towel is held lovingly to my cheeks for several long moments as we stare at each other while Van sings about the heavens opening every time she smiles.
I couldn’t agree with him more.
She trades the towel for some shaving cream and a razor. It gets trapped between her teeth while she smooths the cream over my face. A cute giggle slips out when she covers my mouth with it, but she quickly wipes it away with a few swipes of her finger.
“Now you’re Santa Eric,” she giggles again, sitting back to get a good look.
“Ho, ho, ho,” I grunt, making her laugh.
I should probably be nervous when she places the razor against my skin, but she shaves her legs every day, I’m sure she knows how to work one. She drags it gently down my cheeks with long smooth strokes, quiet and absorbed with her task, swishing it in the water a bit then bringing it back up for another stroke. I stay as still as I can for her, knowing she’ll be upset if I get cut. Several long, sexually charged minutes later, she’s done. The towel gets warmed back up and she wipes off all extra shaving cream.
“All done,” she smiles, running her hands over my cheeks, “Smooth as a baby’s butt,” she teases, her nose wrinkled.
I grab her by the back of her neck and pull her close until her lips are almost against mine. It makes her gasp. “That was the sexiest, most erotic experience of my life,” I whisper, then kiss her hard, releasing some of my pent-up arousal. She moans, giving it right back and stirring me up even more.
Unfortunately our awkward position makes things difficult, but we quickly remedy that by moving over to the swing bed as I’ve dubbed it. We haven’t been on it since the night we fell asleep out here and she had that awful nightmare. I plan on making that bad memory go away by making a much better one.
Sookie pulls my shorts and boxers off, my shirt was gone before the haircut, and I carefully lay down on the swing. My dick is hard as a rock so I reach down and stroke myself as I watch her undress, her eyes glued to my hand the whole time.
“Do you like watching me, Sookie?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she breathes out, stepping closer.
“Next time we can watch each other, but right now I need you. Climb up here with me.”
She takes her time, being very careful, but finally straddles me, her hands braced on either side of my head. Mine go straight to her breasts, my fingers pinching and pulling her nipples. She doesn’t waste anytime at all, immediately rubbing herself over my aching dick. One tilt of our hips and I slide home, pulling a groan from me and a whimper from her. She is so wet and swollen.
I know she’s probably sore and in this position I’ll feel even bigger to her, so I force myself to stay still and let her adjust, but it’s hard. Finally she begins to move over me in long, slow strokes that make my eyes want to roll back in my head. They do the second she rocks her hips forward, squeezing me with her walls from base to tip.
It takes her a minute or two to find a rhythm because of the swing moving underneath us, but once she does, I swear she’s trying to suck my dick off. Just when I think she’s at the edge she sits straight up then starts rolling her hips. It takes every ounce of control I have not to explode when I open my eyes and watch her riding me. I know I think it a hundred times a day, but damn she’s gorgeous.
“Fuck, Eric. You’re so big,” she pants.
“And you’re so fucking tight,” I grunt back, grabbing her hip with my right hand and helping her grind over me. “Pinch your nipples for me while I rub your clit. I wanna see you cum again,” I tell her, using my left thumb to find her sensitive little nub, then rubbing it in slow, tight circles.
Her head falls and she starts to rock harder. Slowly she runs her hands up to her breasts and squeezes them several times before finally pinching and pulling her nipples with her fingers. Fuck that’s sexy. I can feel her walls clinching around me every time she does it too.
“That’s it beautiful. Make that pussy cum for me,” I pant as she works me harder.
My words spur her hips to rock even faster and she starts to whimper and jerk with every forward stroke. I’m not gonna last and I tell her so, “Fuck, Sookie. I’m gonna cum. Cum with me, Sookie. Cum.”
She screams out my name and convulses over and around me, as I grunt and groan beneath her, my hips thrusting up as I cum.
She slumps over onto my chest panting hard. There isn’t much more satisfying than having her spent and boneless on top of me, her ragged breath blowing in puffs across my sweaty skin. Her little noises are music to my ears, music that settles something deep inside of my soul.
“Mmmmm, I love you,” she hums against my neck before places a few kisses to it. She slowly peels herself off of me, gifting me with a sweet smile. “Are you okay?”
I nod, “Will you ever quit worrying about me?” I ask, teasing her ribs lightly.
“No,” she snorts. “Do you want me too?”
“No, I like it,” I admit without shame.
“That’s what I thought,” she smirks. “Wanna go shower with me, handsome? Wash off all the hair and sticky?”
She helps me up and follows me into the house carrying our clothes. We manage to take a shower without getting any dirtier somehow and are just getting dressed when we hear knocking at the front door.
“Are we expecting anyone else today?” I ask her.
“No, not that I know of. Maybe Tristan left something?” she mutters heading for the door.
I’m getting my pants on when she calls for me, her voice high and anxious. I hobble to her as quick as I can and find her leading two guys in suits into the living room.
I go straight to her and wrap my arm around her waist and kiss her temple hoping to calm her down. Her voice sounds a bit stronger when she introduces me to our guests.
“Eric, this is Detective Bryant and his partner Detective Marks. Detectives this is Eric Northman, my boyfriend.”
We all nod at each other and go through the ‘nice to me yous’. Bryant is a fairly tall guy, fit with glasses and dark greying hair. Late forties, early fifties I’d guess. Marks is younger by ten years at least, short and stocky with brown hair and eyes.
“They want to ask us some questions about the robbery, sweetie,” she says, looking up at me. I can see the worry in her eyes.
I smile at her and them. Maybe the calmer I am the calmer she’ll be. “Okay, ya’ll wanna have a seat?” I ask, waving them over to the couch.
“After you,” Bryant says.
Sookie and I take one side of the sectional, them the other. Her ass is barely in the seat before she jumps up, “I’m so sorry. Can I get ya’ll something to drink? Tea, coffee, anything?”
Fuck, I hate seeing her so nervous. She’s been doing so good this last week. If she has an attack with them here she’ll be so upset.
“Thank you, Mrs. Dawson, but we’re fine.” Bryant tells her.
She sits back down beside me and I take her hand in mine. I googled some tips to help people with anxiety early this week so I try one out on her. I start tracing numbers on her palm with my finger, doing each one very slowly. I get to three before she realizes I’m trying to help her. She smiles at me with tears in her eyes but doesn’t stop me, so I keep going. Neither on of us have really been listening to the detectives, they seem to understand though.
Bryant clears his throat and once we nod at him he gets started, “I apologize for bothering you both and having to dredge this up for you again. We’ll try to make it as quick and painless as possible. We saved the two of you for last, since you were the most injured Mr. Northman. You look to be healing nicely.”
“It was really rough those first couple of weeks, but thanks to Sookie, I’m doing better than the doctors hoped. We haven’t really heard anything about what happened after, you did arrest them both, right?” I ask him.
“Oh yeah. They’ve been locked up since it happened,” Marks speaks up for the first time, he’s pretty enthusiastic about it too.
The whole experience has been lurking in the back of my mind the whole time, but I’ve tried to keep it there. Which hasn’t been too hard with all we’ve been dealing with, but it’s all flooding back front and center now. It’s a miracle either one of us, or any body survive that day.
“Um, the other boy who got shot, is he okay?” Sookie asks them.
“He is, we saw him late last week. He’s zooming around on his crutches,” Bryant tells her with a reassuring smile. “We’ve seen the video footage and talked to everyone else, I hate to ask you, but could you both walk us through what happened. It’s standard procedure unfortunately. Neither of you are considered anything other than victims.”
It’s certainly not fun, but we tell them everything we can remember and answer a few more questions for them. Sookie handles it really well considering, but she keeps her palm turned up for me so I’ll continue doing my trick the whole time. It honestly helps me too. I have more anxiety about it than I’ve acknowledge before now.
“It would be good if you both were at the arraignment next Thursday. The better showing we have the more likely the perps will plead guilty. You won’t have to speak at all, you would only be there as a show of force so to speak. Would you both be comfortable with that? It isn’t required that you be there, but I believe it would help get the judge to set a huge bail and keep them locked up until the trial.”
Sookie’s eyes are huge when she looks at Bryant, but she stays calm. “They could be released?” she asks.
“It’s unlikely, but still possible,” he tells us.
Fuck, I never once thought that might happen.
Sookie squeezes my hand and I move my focus from the floor back to her, “We don’t have to go, if you don’t want too,” I try to assure her.
“Yes, we do,” she says, her voice strong. “They have to pay for what they did to you.”
I pull her against my chest and hug her, then look over her head at Bryant, “Tell us when and where.”