Chapter 3

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Today just keeps getting weirder and weirder. Honestly, I’m starting to wonder if I fell down the rabbit hole after inhaling too much of the smoke coming from Amelia’s room. I sure as shit didn’t think I’d be skinny dipping with Eric Northman before day’s end. Yet when I look over my shoulder, his naked form is following me to the pool.

 

I pause to put my hair up on top of my head and then step into the pool. I’m keeping my back to him to reduce the temptation to pounce on him. My new boss is packin’ more than star power. The last time I saw a dick that big was when I met Spencer Pratt.

 

Eric cannonballs into the deep end of the pool and I start to wade that way.

 

“Do you swim a lot?” I ask when he surfaces.

 

“Not too much. I try to get in here at least once a month,” he says as her wipes the water from his face.

 

“I swim at my place all the time. I prefer it to running or going to the gym,” I tell him.

 

“I generally go to the gym first thing in the morning. I’ve been slacking lately. You’re always welcome to swim here,” he smirks.

 

“I’ll bring a bikini for future swims.”

 

“I’ve already seen it all now,” he says as he swims toward me.

 

“Yes, but I don’t need a guest thinking I’m a paid whore,” I point out. It wouldn’t look good for either of us.

 

“Any guest I have knows I don’t have to pay for sex.” He stops about a foot from me.

 

“Can I ask you a very personal question?”

 

“You’re welcome to ask anything, I can’t promise I’ll answer it,” he tells me.

 

“I’m sure you know there are whispers about you, especially since you’re definitely a catch but you’re never seen with girls. Are you gay?” It’s generally rude to ask something like that but since I’m going to be spending time with him…

 

Eric moves an inch or two closer and grabs my hand. He places my flat palm against his very hard erection and says, “I’m far from gay, Miss Stackhouse,” before he lets my hand go.

 

My hand stays right where he put it, purely because this is yet another surreal moment in my life. Hadley, my cousin and best friend, is going to shit a kitten when I tell her about this.

 

“Just checking,” I whisper. I intend to pull my hand away but I end up stroking him instead. Shit. I shouldn’t do this. Granted, it’s been eight months since JB and I broke up so I could definitely use this…

 

“I told you I’m a very private person, didn’t I?” he whispers back. He grabs my hips and starts to move backwards toward the wall. “I have my ways of getting around without being seen with women.”

 

“Fucking them in your pool?” I smirk.

 

“Who says I’ll be fucking anyone in my pool?”

 

“No one. I was just guessing about your previous conquests.” I let go of him and grab the wall of the pool instead.

 

Eric pulls me against himself by my hips and uses the water to rub my stomach over his hard-on.

 

“I don’t want to talk about my previous conquests.” Eric leans his head forward and licks my neck. His tongue is soft and warm.

 

“What do you want to talk about?” I tilt my head.

 

“How good you taste,” he whispers and starts to suck just below my ear.

 

Oh sweet Jesus, he’s not going to make it easy for me to push him away.

 

“That seems like a pretty one-sided conversation,” I reply.

 

“You’re more than welcome to taste me too.” His voice is low and gravelly as his lips and tongue work down my neck toward my collarbone.

 

I should be saying things but nothing worthwhile is coming to me. My hips rock against him when he finds the right spot on my collarbone.

 

“Eric,” I murmur his name but I don’t know what else I’m going to say.

 

“Hmm?” he hums and continues to suck as his hands knead my hips.

 

It would be so easy to shift my hips just a little and slide down his length, and I’m sure it would feel fuckin’ amazing… but I can’t do that. I’m not here to fuck Eric Northman; I’m here to dig up dirt on him.  I can’t afford to forget that.

 

“We should stop,” I pant. I don’t want to, but I have to.

 

“We should,” Eric agrees as he starts to kiss and suck up the other side of my neck.

 

“You’re my boss. I shouldn’t be fucking my boss,” I tell him and yet my body refuses to follow suit with my head and my conscience.

 

“I promise I won’t hold it against you,” he purrs against my skin as one of his hands slides up to caress my left breast.

 

My hips rock and my smart mouth says, “It feels like you’re holding it against me right now.”

 

“Is there somewhere else you’d like me to hold it?” His hips thrust up, rubbing his head over my clit.

 

“Oh God,” I moan. This is my karmic payback for being a dishonest twat.

 

“Mmm, it’s Eric,” he smiles and gives me another thrust.

 

“So much for not being arrogant,” I quip but a third thrust of his hips makes my walls flutter.

 

“It was a joke, Miss Stackhouse,” he tells me before his teeth scrape over my earlobe.

 

Fuck, I need to get away from him. I’m sure he’s not expecting it when I push him back and start to swim toward the shallow end of the pool.

 

“I shouldn’t have done this,” I say under my breath as I climb out of the pool.

 

Eric gets out of the pool as well and walks over to the side of the house. He comes back with a towel for me.

 

“I’ll be good from now on,” he promises as he wraps his towel around his waist.

 

“Maybe you should hire someone else,” I suggest. “Some burly, furball of a guy.”

 

Eric chuckles and says, “I swear to be a good boy, Sookie. You’re officially hired at eight in the morning and I won’t touch you or even look at you like I want you.”

 

“Maybe I’m not worried about you being able to control yourself,” I tell him as I wrap my towel around my chest.

 

“I’ll keep my clothes on?” he says with a little smile.

 

I remind myself that I need this job. I can’t afford to throw this opportunity away.

 

“I’ll be here tomorrow morning with coffee,” I tell him.

 

“Thank you. I’ll have the confidentiality agreement and a formal offer letter telling you how much you’ll be getting paid.”

 

I nod and go gather up my clothes so I can get dressed.

 

***

 

The familiar reek of marijuana is coming from Amelia’s room. I don’t know how many contact highs I’ve had in the last four years, but I’m about to have another.  That’s contributed to my size ten ass too.

 

“Ames, I’m home!” I call out.

 

My roommate is the daughter of a very successful production company owner and I’m not exactly sure what she’s doing for work these days. Her dad mostly finances her life so she can afford to spend her days lying around the apartment getting stoned and daydreaming her next big venture.

 

She comes out of her room a second later and asks, “How was your day?”

 

“I almost fucked Eric Northman in his swimming pool.” I might as well lead with the good stuff.

 

“You what?!” she screeches. “Why only almost? And how in the fuck did you get into a pool with him?”

 

“He’s my new boss. I got scooped on that de Castro article and Madden was going to fire me so I said I would get Northman. He thought I was there to be his assistant, so I just went with it,” I explain.

 

“You should’ve fucked him and stole his DNA,” she smiles, wiggling her eyebrows. “You know you’re a crazy bitch, right?”

 

“For going undercover or because I didn’t fuck him?” I take my heels off and head for my bedroom.

 

Before I left Eric’s house he gave me access to his email and a few other accounts I’ll need to be able to access, including a separate bank account I’m supposed to use for the errands I run and anything I buy for him.

 

“Both,” she says as she leans against my door.

 

I peel off my top and toss it in the hamper. Amelia’s seen me naked before so this is nothing.

 

“I feel like a jerk for not being straight with him but he’s a private person.” He’s having me sign a confidentiality agreement tomorrow but I’ll figure that out later.

 

“Is he at least nice? He seems nice.”

 

“He is nice. He’s as quiet away from cameras as he is in front of them. It’s obvious he hasn’t been in Hollywood long.” I grab a tank top from my dresser and pull it on before taking my bra off.

 

“Do you think you’ll be able to get into his head? I want to know everything as you– does he have a big Johnson?”

 

Such a stoner.

 

“Yes he does,” I confirm and use my hands to give dimensions.

 

“And you turned that down? I don’t know if crazy bitch is a strong enough term,” she says, shaking her head.

 

“Trust me, it wasn’t easy. If I have hickies tomorrow, he’s responsible.” I grab a tiny pair of shorts and take my capri pants off.

 

“Did you learn anything good besides the fact that he has a big dick and you’re an idiot?”

 

I laugh and say, “He likes vanilla creamer in his coffee, extra cheese on his pizza and he walks around the house naked.” I put the shorts on and take my earrings off.

 

“It’s because he’s Swedish. I dated a Swede once and she hated clothes too,” she says with a little nod. “And the damn Coffee Bean barista could’ve told me how he likes his coffee.”

 

“You asked,” I shrug. “I didn’t want to be obvious and show my ass… metaphorically.”

 

“I expect something good by the end of the week,” she says.

 

“I’m sorry, since when are you an extension of Madden?” I snort.

 

“I’m just a nosey bitch,” she shrugs.

 

“You got that right.” I pull my laptop from its bag and plug it in to charge.

 

“I’m going to go back to my America’s Next Top Model marathon. There’s stuff for burritos in the kitchen if you get hungry.”

 

“What cycle are you watching? I got bored with it after the tenth.”

 

“Sixteen.”

 

I crinkle my nose. “All yours.”

 

“Well, have fun trying to figure out how to stay out of Eric Northman’s pants,” she cackles as she walks away.

 

Bitch. I love her though. She gets on my nerves sometimes, but that’s normal.

 

I start up my laptop and open a word document to start tracking my notes. I email Madden to inform him of my progress. When all that is done I open a bottle of wine and pour myself a glass. Today has been one of the weirdest days of my life.

 

***

 

I wake up just after five and get in the shower. I’m used to being up at this time. The newspaper office is in Burbank, so it won’t take me too much longer to get to West Hollywood. After my shower I dry and curl my hair. I put on a pair of gray washed skinny jeans and a gray tank top with a skull on it. Eric doesn’t strike me as the Miranda Priestley type so I doubt he’ll be critiquing my wardrobe.

 

Just to be on the safe side I stuff a pink and purple Hawaiian sunset bikini into my bag. I take my laptop with me, along with the chargers for my phone and computer. Eric talked about me having regular banker’s hours but I know that won’t last.

 

As I’m driving toward his house I start to wonder if I can really go through with all of this. Eric seems like a nice guy. Can I really sell him out? What he doesn’t know is that the identification I gave him yesterday is faked. I had the art department at work create a license for me with the name Sookie on it, but that’s not my real name.

 

My real name, the one on my birth certificate, is Susannah. If that contract is drawn up with a different name, it’ll be null and void upon producing my birth certificate. I feel like a double agent right now. I’m not generally a dishonest person and I’ve never really thought I was that good of an actor. I guess we’ll find out if that’s true.

 

At least now I know I can probably use my tits and size ten ass to my advantage with him. Unlike a lot of women here I don’t have a personal trainer or gym membership. I’ve never had plastic surgery and I don’t wear a ton of makeup, which keeps my skin in good condition. Plus, I’ve got good genes. Gran is in her eighties but she doesn’t look it.

 

I’ve inherited her figure and facial structure. I could actually probably stand to gain a few more pounds and still look good. Back in her day, Gran was a full-figured woman with curves to spare. She was discovered by a talent scout down in New Orleans when she was twenty-years-old, working as a lounge singer down in the French Quarter in the early ’40s.

 

Gran was highly photogenic and had the perfect body to be a swimsuit model. There was something very girl next door about her. Her appeal wasn’t overtly sexual, like Marilyn Monroe or Bettie Page. Gran met Hugh Hefner at a jazz lounge in Chicago that she was performing at. He was immediately enamored with her and offered to put her in his new magazine.

 

She wasn’t shy about her body and it’s because of Gran that I’ve always been proud of mine. Because I’m not stick thin, I’ve been called fat more times than I can count. Okay, so my thighs are a little thick and my stomach isn’t perfectly flat. I’ll take that over people being able to clearly see my ribs, spine or hip bones. Gran always said men prefer a woman to be soft in all the right places and my experience with men proves that she’s right.

 

Not a single man I’ve ever been with has thought I was too big. My harshest critics are other women… women that have had surgery to enhance what I got naturally. They’re all jealous hags with fake tits and even faker personalities. I completely disregard their critiques.

 

Three blocks away from Eric’s house I stop for coffee. I guess I’ll find out how he feels about vanilla lattes. I get an iced cinnamon dolce latte, Eric’s vanilla latte and a variety of breakfast sandwiches since I don’t know what he likes yet. I get the feeling I’m going to have to learn by observation since Eric doesn’t seem to like talking about himself.

 

That presents a real problem since I’m supposed to be interviewing him without him knowing it. I finish the short drive to Eric’s house and park in his driveway instead of on the street. I just hope he’s not walking around naked in the house because I don’t know if I can turn him down two days in a row.

 

As I get out of the car I steel my willpower and walk up to the front door.

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10 thoughts on “Chapter 3

  1. Oh no, she’s still going to get dirt on him even though he’s so nice and so well endowed? Come on, doesn’t a big dick count for anything? No courtesy for Big Dick Ric? It’s funny she has morals enough not to fuck him(though, would that really have been so bad?) but not to not sell his story to a tabloid. 😛

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  2. Agree with VictoryinTrouble about her morals.
    But it seems like she might be starting to question herself just a teensy bit. Hopefully she’ll question herself a lot more before she does something really stupid and unforgivable!

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  3. Hmm. Sounds like sookie has been scooped more than once. Two possible leaks so far: Amelia, Sookies computer (email updates to Victor). So far I’m leaning towards Amelia…. Gossiping info to a bored stoner with acces to a phone and the Internet. I Think Amelia is telling someone else, who is selling the info to Sookies competition. But who knows. Guess I’ll find out eventually. In the mean time I’m looking for more clues.

    Sookie! Suzannah! Whoever, dang dang dang. Lies. Not good. Not good at all!

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  4. Sookie is just digging herself in deeper and she won’t be able to get out. I still think Sookie should quit her job at the tabloid and work for Eric for real now. However, Sookie wants to be taken seriously as a writer, so she won’t. But where she works now is a tabloid and I don’t see ho

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