The Viking in My Bed snippet

Sometimes an unexpected story comes to you and just starts to write itself. This happened to me with The Viking in my Bed.

I'm having fun writing it. As always, I don't really know where things will go. Here's a snippet from the opener. This is m/m contemporary and it's not work safe.

Oh. That felt just toooo good.

Warm lips on my sweet spot. A lot of guys had made the mistake of thinking my sweet spot was in the obvious location, but I had a thing for having my right arm pit licked and suckled, right over this little mole.

Whiskers scraped my skin with just the right amount of pressure. I shivered, arching my body.
I was aware I was close to waking up, like a boat about to bump onto a beach but the hand stroking my bare chest felt so good I didn't want to. What was good about Thursday? Thursday was rain, midterms, coffee with Candy, and maybe I'd be able to squeeze an hour boarding. Maybe.

Thursday was not vivid blue eyes staring into mine. A wide, delighted smile, like a kid's smile. Ribbons of blond hair falling over a tanned forehead. Miles of muscle that I was...stroking?

I sat up.

"Good. This will be better when you're awake, yes?" a heavily accented voice boomed.

He was so loud I covered my ears. The guy on top of me had a chest like a fog horn.

"What are you doing?" I squeaked.

I was naked. Since I'd moved into college residence, I could sleep naked which saved a lot of time on laundry. My two other roommates were guys, so it's not like I was going to offend their tender sensibilities.

"I am making love to you, of course," the gigantic blond bellowed.

"Stop shouting!" I yelled.

He frowned, looking like a puzzled golden retriever. "You shouted."

"I live here!" I said with, I have to admit, very little logic. "Listen, Conan, can you get off me?"

He was built like Arnie and he was squishing me into my bed. This had to be a set up. I wondered who wanted to yank my, uh, tail--which was hard enough to wag right now.

But so was Conan's.

"I am not called Conan," he told me stiffly.

"Uh huh. So how much did my friends pay you?" He pushed back the blankets. His name might not be Conan, but if they made a rubber to fit his dick, it would be Conan-sized. I stared, my mouth watering.

Focus, I scolded myself. Just because he has the kind of cock I'd love to suck, I mean love, going down as far as I could on the monster, jerking the pole below, holding those monster balls and squeezing them...

Right, focus. I got out of bed and grabbed some briefs off the back of a chair.

Conan got out of bed and stood there, hands on his hips, as naked as Michelangelo's David.

"Where'd you put your clothes?" I looked around, then sniffed. "Do you smell smoke?"

"You ask a lot of questions," he noted.

"Is that a new kind of weed? What is that smell?" Had I left the boiler plate on again? Geez. It smelled like scorched earth in here. It hadn't been that long since I'd done laundry.

"It is the mark of my passage to this world," Conan said.

Great. He was some kind of geek. Gorgeous, but obsessed with role playing. Figures.

But he had a sweet smile.

And I had class in less than an hour.

I tossed more clothing, looking for a clean T-shirt. I found one with palm trees and camels my Mom had snagged for me on a trip to Cairo. It was clean. Now I needed my favourite pair of stone washed jeans.

Conan was still standing there, glowering at me like I was a servant boy who'd forgotten to dress his royal highness.

"Okay," I said. "I gotta get to class. It was real funny." I swallowed. How he got me so hard, so excited. How he felt covering me. "Ha ha. Now go, your lordship."

"I am Freyr Skallagrimson." He continued in a language I didn't understand. Maybe it was Middle Earth. I found my jeans.

"There's coffee and I think some left over pizza in the fridge," I told him. "Bye."

I sneaked one last look at him over my shoulder as I snagged my backpack.

He took my breath away. Glowing golden skin, glowering at me out of electric blue eyes, hands on his corded hips, the kind of hips with dimples created by muscles. He had scars on his body too. Probably some kind of make up to go with his persona. His cock hung long from a thatch of blond hair almost as bright as the gold on his head. Holy geez, look at that monster. I gave it a wistful glance and then slammed the door behind me.

Haldir or Elderade, or whatever he called himself, bellowed again. I winced. Lucky my roommates were off on some kind of anthropological camping thing. Hopefully no one in the building would complain. Late night noise was tolerated. Early mornings, not so much.

"Bailey!" Candy was waiting for me. "We're going to be late!"

My best friend Candy Drake gave me a scandalized look out of large, soul heavy brown eyes. Candy lived life as if she were a Regency romance heroine, with rules and etiquette. I'd had to get her drunk the night she'd gotten her first parking ticket. She was not a rebel at heart.
Fortunately I understood her since Candy and I had the same taste in reading. Growing up, we'd read all kinds. Candy's favourites were romantic suspense while mine were paranormal romances. We could spend hours talking about our favourite heroes.

"We won't be late. You have to factor in the time it takes for everyone to sit." I had it down to a science because I am not remotely a morning person. I just hit my stride by 2 A.M.

Behind us, the door shook as if the mighty Thor had struck it with his hammer. Candy's mouth gaped. "Wow, did one of your roommates run out of coffee?"

Damn, there were actually splinters and a hole in my door!

"As if you don't know!" I flashed. I figured Candy had to be part of this. Today was my birthday. So she'd given me a Viking, like one of the demanding Alpha males in a Johanna Lindsey romance--except this guy took his role playing a little too seriously.

Candy shoved back her long dark hair, her face so pale her freckles stood out like flecks of sawdust on cream. "Bailey!" she squeaked, much as I had earlier that morning.

She squeaked because the door exploded like a canon ball had fired through it.

And there he was, Gundar the Invincible, completely and magnificently naked except for his mighty sword, a scarred silver weapon.

He gave me an outraged look, as if I'd been the one to smash the freaking door.

All down the hallway of my residence, half dressed students with blurry eyes and bed hair appeared. They poked their heads out, staring open-mouthed at Gundar the Destroyer's amazing ripped body.

"Bailey?" Candy gasped.

Gundar reached out one giant fist and snagged my T-shirt, dragging me to him.

"You will do your duty by me," he growled and shook me, like a puppy who had piddled on the rug.

"Stop!" Candy was hitting Gundar's free arm with her fists. His jewel blue eyes widened and he glowered at me. "I have no wish to hurt your wench," he said.

I grabbed Candy's arms, not wanting my wench to get hurt either. "Candy, it's all right. He's, ah, mine," I said.

Gundar looked down at me with a half smile.

"Yours?" Her eyes were accusing. "Bailey Moore, you have a new boyfriend and you didn't tell me?" She looked Thor over. "I want to know everything." Her voice had a sudden dreamy quality.

I blushed. "It's a joke!" I raised my voice for the other students. "My birthday. Ha ha."

I had two sudden epiphanies hit me. One, we were most definitely going to be late to class this morning. The second was that we couldn't stand in the hallway with half the building lusting over my Viking warrior. And, okay, a third one hit me. I needed coffee. Now.

"Come on." I tugged Gundar's arm. He didn't move, looking down at my grip on his tree trunk of an arm with something like amusement. It pissed me off. I was not built like Gundar, but I wasn't totally skinny. My arms had some definition from push ups.

"We will go," he announced in a gracious tone and allowed me to herd him and Candy through my beat up door. Oh, man. How was I going to tell my roommates? I'd have to get it replaced pronto. Maybe we could swing by the Door Store, where they had all that recycled stuff and I could find a new one. That and some paint and I should be able to switch it out quick.

Which was going to eat up most of the day.

But first things first. Coffee.

"Oh man," Candy groaned as I got out the instant.

"Sorry, no Starbucks barista handy. You could always ask Thor here if he can make us coffee with the power of his magical sword," I said, slicing my Viking a look. He was pacing the room, sword thankfully lax at his side, studying the kitchen and couch area with some interest.

"I am not Thor," he boomed. "I have told you my name."

"I forgot it," I said.

He frowned thunderously. "You did not."

"Okay, I didn't." I looked at Candy who was sitting on my couch and watching my visitor. "It's Frey-er something."

"Freyr Skallagrimson," my Viking supplied calmly. Then he pointed his broadsword at me, his fuck up of a servant boy. "You will not forget."

I shook my head, reluctantly impressed. Frey certainly stayed in character.

"It smells like seriously burned toast in here," Candy said, wrinkling her nose.

"It must be the wiring in one of the walls," I said. "It smelled like that when I woke up."

"When you woke up with, um, Frey-ur," she said, running avid eyes over Frey's backside, which was on display as he bent down and picked up one of Jared's T-shirts. He studied it, even lifted it to his nose and sniffed.

"This does not smell of you," he told me, frowning.

"You can smell that?" I shook my head. For a second his reaction seemed so real... I was falling for his game. "Right, you have trained senses from hunting boar or whatever, right?"

"Yes," Frey said, as if he hadn't caught on I was being sarcastic. "I hunt."

I needed coffee. "Okay, water's boiled."

Candy reluctantly took a cup with instant milk whipped by my spoon, tons of sugar, cinnamon and coffee crystals and hot water. Her expression smoothed out after she tasted some. It sounds like junk, but I can make really good instant lattes.

"So what is going on?" she demanded, eyes half slitted with pleasure.

Frey studied her, cocking his head. Then he gave me an imperious look.

"I'm already making you some," I grumbled. "Your lordship."

He nodded firmly. "Yes."

I rolled my eyes before giving Candy the goods, "I woke up. He was in bed with me. End of story."

"You woke up with a Viking in your bed?" she said. "And you don't think that's a little strange?"

"Candy, it's my birthday."

"I know that!"

"So Jared, Matt...This has to be their doing. They hired Lord of the Rings here to give me a thrill." And what a thrill it had been with that warm mouth on my sweet spot and that hard body plastering me into the mattress. But I didn't have to share that with Candy. From the way she was looking at Frey, probably she'd figured it out.

Candy bit her lip as I finished making Frey's coffee. He didn't come and take the mug. I had to take it to him. Geez, he was annoying.

"But Bailey..." She put her mug down and got to her feet, hesitantly approaching Frey.
He took a sip of the coffee and then held it away from him, looking shocked by the taste. Maybe he didn't think I could work such magic with instant.

"How do you explain this?" She was stroking his arm. I felt a rush of jealousy which was stupid.

"Explain what?"

"These scars..." She looked up into Frey's eyes. "They're real."