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complaining, it was just surprising that she could recover that fast, at least to the point of being ready to fuck. She was unequivocal on the matter however, and within seconds I was inside her.

Stephanie’s breathing grew a little more rapid and labored with each thrust of my cock inside her. It wasn’t too deep. I knew I had to take it easy on her, my cock barely fitting in her tight pussy, but we got through it.

I slid in as deep as she could comfortably take me before I started to pump. Slow at first, but then with increasing urgency.

I hadn’t really fucked her yet. Not properly, like I really wanted to, but I was trying to work her up to it, even though I had no reason to think I would see her again. No logical reason, in any case.

“You’re amazing,” she moaned, as I got up to a steady moderate rhythm. “That feels so fucking good.”

No matter what the circumstances of our meeting, or what the future held, I was glad to have met her. If nothing else, we would always have the experience of last night and this morning after.

I drove into her again and again, making her cum once, then twice, before I started to feel the overwhelming pleasure drawing up in me. I tugged my cock out and Stephanie eagerly parted her lips so I could shoot my load between them.

She swallowed every last drop, and I realized I wasn’t sure what was hotter: watching her take it all or seeing some of it spill down her breasts and belly as it had the night before.

“Shit, is that the time?’ Stephanie asked suddenly, looking over at the bedside clock.

“Appears to be,” I said, laying down beside her.

“Damn it! I’m so sorry, but you have to go, and I have to get to work.”

“Oh, right, it’s Monday.”

“Yeah, and I’m going to be late.”

“Not if I can help it.”

Working together, we got Stephanie ready for work in no time. I was a bit surprised how sleek and professional she looked in her business clothes. It seemed like she could look good in almost anything, though it did make me wonder what she did.

She looked like she could be a lawyer, or some kind of executive.

If so, how old was she?

She looked young, maybe not even twenty. Then again, if Jonna was her younger sister, that didn’t seem likely.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Old enough to know better, and you need to get dressed, stat.”

“I’m serious,” I pressed, hopping into my jeans.

“I’m 23,” she said, with a slight sigh. “Shocked?”

“A bit,” I answered honestly, raising my eyebrows.

She honestly only looked a year or two older than her sister, who was much younger, but in her work clothes and professional daytime demeanor, I could kind of see it.

“I hope it doesn’t bother you that I’m quite a bit older,” I added. “Ten years, to be exact.”

She snorted and said, “No, it doesn’t bother me at all.”

“You’re beautiful, no matter how old you are.”

I took her in my arms and lifted her until we were eye to eye, and gave her a deep, passionate kiss to show her I wasn’t just blowing smoke up her ass.

“Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly when we parted.

“I mean it.”

“I know. Now put me down and finish getting dressed, okay?”

“Okay.”

I did as she asked, and soon enough we were out in the hall as she locked up. She seemed to be glancing around to see if anyone was coming. It wasn’t clear which had the potential for most embarrassment, having a one-night stand or sleeping with a metal head.

Even though I wasn’t too obvious about it, keeping clean-shaven and my hair short, most people still knew. Except for Stephanie, of course. She’d seen me in a suit, playing an acoustic set. Still, she probably guessed, since every other band at the wedding also on Seth’s label.

We stayed together, cuddling on the elevator, neither of us really seeming to want to really pull ourselves away from each other— at least until the bell dinged, and then Stephanie was off.

I kept pace, which wasn’t hard with my long-legged stride, and we made it to the street about the same time. With another glance around, just to be sure, Stephanie got up onto her tiptoes and kissed me.

“Goodbye,” she whispered, before disappearing into the bustling crowd. “Sorry I have to rush off to work!”

I didn’t have too long to ponder whether her goodbye had been forever or just for then. There were also places I had to be, like The Sanctuary recording studio, to start recording our first official Suspicious Activity Records release. One for which we were contracted, with a possibility for renewal at the end of the initial period.

Stig usually handled the legal stuff. He was the smartest of all of us, which was probably his way of compensating for being a bass player. Still, we all got a look at the contract, and agreed that Seth likely wasn’t trying to rip us off.

The only downside was that it would be at least four years before we could go home. I’d always thought it was a cliché, too long for the fjords, but there I was.

I was going to have to walk or maybe take a bus or an Uber. We had taken Stephanie’s car to get to her apartment, and she was long gone by now. I didn’t have a motor stateside, my truck still parked outside my house in Bergen.

It had been Stig’s bright idea to take the train into Norway and fly to the States. Never mind that there away no way in hell my drums were going to fit.

The clever bastard had thought of that too, putting together

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