Rough and Ready (27 page)

"Sure, hon," Serenity said. "Let me see what's happening, and I'll get my tools out while you're gone. I brought some home with me from the shop."

"Oh, dost have a heart or butterfly on your butt?" Hilda asked, trying to appear less naive than she apparently was.

"Hell, no!" Tissie raised her tea-ing shert, and showed them both breasts totally covered with tattoos.

Hilda's eyes nigh popped from her head.

Tissie explained that Serenity had tattooed them to look like ice cream cones, whatever that was.

Hilda could not keep her thoughts to herself. "Blessed Thor, I have been married three times, and ne'er have I heard of such things. I thought the things Torolf favored were perverted, but they are not like this."

All eyes turned on her with interest.

"What?"

"C'mon. Spill," Linda said. "You can't say that and not finish."

"Oh, 'tis naught like the things you have all mentioned. Just teaching me how to pleasure myself."

"My, my, my! I always thought Max had some mojo hidden away," Lizzy said.

"Don't

go lookin' so crushed, though. He turned me down."

"Me, too," the others said.

That was interesting… that Torolf had declined sex with these very attractive women. Not that she cared. Much.

"Any other perversions Max has?" Linda asked with casual interest, which might not be so casual.

"Just the woman's favored sexual position."

Silence.

Then Tissie asked, "And that would be?"

"Doggie sex."

Everyone laughed except a puzzled Hilda, who decided that while she was opening her big mouth, she might as well finish. "Of course, he knows the famous Viking S-spot, as all Northmen do, though not my three husbands, the know-nothings.

The

S-spot is not really a perversion. Leastways, I do not think it is."

When they finally left for the mall, which was a big shopping mart, they were all chattering away. It turned out she had as much to teach them as they were teaching her.

"Tell me again where this S-spot is," Linda said.

"Oh, I cannot explain it. Really. It can only be found with a tongue. A man's tongue."

"Honey," Linda said, looping an arm over Hilda's shoulders, "you are my new best friend."

"Me, too. Me, too," the others said.

It was always good to have new friends.

Doggone it!…

Navy SEALs were trained to fight the hardest terrorists in the world. They took down tangos around the world and destroyed their caves and safe houses. Lots of U.S. enemies feared them.

Why then did it take five SEALs to catch a friggin' dog?

For more than an hour after the other guys arrived, they chased, almost caught, slipped down a hill, climbed up a steep embankment, fell in a pond, and called out the silliest things in the world, "Here Slut, here Slut!" "Hey, Slut, I got a boner here for you!" "Look, 101 Dalmatians is on the tube. Hurry!" "Is that a hot pit bull I see over there? He's got somethin' for you, chère." "Hey, Slutty mutty!" "Think dog pound here, Slut!" "Think doghouse here, Slut!" "Even dogs have to give it a rest sometime! I'm tired. Aren't you tired, Slut? C'mon, let's go take a nap!" "Uh-oh! Is that a T-bone I spy over there?" And finally, "Get the fuck over here, you motherfucker, before I stick a bone up your ass and make dog soup!"

They found Slut sitting by the steps of the trailer. Her tongue was lolling out of her mouth, drool making a puddle at her feet, her tail wagging like crazy.

"She got some," Cage concluded, and they all agreed.

"You dog, you!" Torolf said. You couldn't help but admire a dog who knew what she wanted and went after it.

He led the way into the trailer with his buddies.

"Where's Hilda?" Geek was already checking out Torolf's laptop, making tsking noises about his failure to defrag regularly.

"She's over at Serenity's trailer."

"You got any beer?" JAM asked.

"Is Slut a slut?" Torolf answered with a laugh.

Cage flicked on the tube. "NASCAR's about to come on."

"Why's Pretty Boy down in the dumps?" he whispered to JAM.

"I think he's missin' Big Mama. He went home alone last night from the Wet and Wild, and he almost never does that."

Everyone was soon comfortable, sitting around the tiny living room. Torolf was feeling pretty good. He was back in the present. He was drinking beer and watching the races. They were going to a party tonight. Yep, life was good.

Cage zapped him then as he said as blithely as if he was commenting on Junior's latest win, "So, did y'all know what women's favorite sexual position is?"

Even Viking women like to shop…

If there was ever anything that would make a woman want to stay here in the future, it was the mall.

Oh, my gods and goddesses! It was every woman's dream come true. Hilda had been to market towns… Hedeby, Kauptang, Birka. And they had contained goods from around the world. But this!

First there had been the ride to the mall in Tissie's horseless carriage box, known as a Jeep, colored bright red, of all things. They raced down the road at an ungodly speed. All the while, there had been dozens of other carriage boxes going in either direction, some even faster.

Hilda's brain practically spun at all she saw at the mall. It was so big, with so many people, all of them in a hurry. Such different attire, much of which would have been considered scandalous in her time. Foods ready to be served, without any cooking fires. Bright lights everywhere. And noise: people talking and laughing, music coming from walls, babies crying. Holy Thor, 'twas enough to make a person put her hands over her ears. And so much color… almost too much brightness.

They were entering a department store, and a lady stepped up to her and squirted her with some substance.

Accustomed by now to her surprise at every little thing, Linda took her arm and said, "Don't be afraid. She was just squirting you with scent to see if you want to buy some perfume."

"Huh?" Hilda sniffed her hand, and there was indeed a delicious flowery scent.

"How wonderful!"

"It's called Joy," the squirting lady said.

"Joy? You name your perfume?"

The squirting lady looked at Hilda as if she was demented.

"Can I buy some?"

Soon she had a bagful of everything from a squirting container of perfume, body lotions, soap, and even bubble bath. Among her purchases were two pairs of braies, blue and black, so tight she could scarce breathe; women wore braies as much as dresses or short gunnas in this country. Then she had also bought colorful sherts, two pairs of soft-soled shoes, and one pair of running shoes—although she kept protesting that she had no intention of running unless someone was chasing her—and hose made of a magic transparent material.

They walked down the mall, planning to stop at a rest-runt to break their fasts when suddenly Hilda stopped dead in her tracks. "What is that?"

Her three companions grinned mischievously.

"We saved the best for last. Victoria's Secret," Linda said. "Come on, ladies.

Let's party."

Hilda bought six pairs of different colored, silky undergarments called pant-hees, but disdained the bras, laughing at any suggestion that she might need support. She had also refused to even consider the outrageous item called a thong, even though the other three women purchased them with great glee. She did let them talk her into a tight black top, which the ladies assured her could be worn outside, called a busty-air. She had to admit her breasts did not look quite so small when uplifted like that.

Finally, Hilda made her most extravagant purchase of the day, what they called a baby doll nightie. It was made of red and black lace, exposed her neck and shoulders, and reached only to her upper thighs. To her, it was an extravagance because, really, who needed garments to sleep in?

After she'd eaten a hot dog—and, nay, it was not a real dog—and a cold root beer, which bubbled and tickled her nose, and tasted not at all like beer, they headed toward the sex shop at the far end of the mall, separated from the rest of the marts. The sign outside said, The Horny Toad, and under that, Tasteful Adult toys.

"You can wait outside, if you want," Lizzy told her.

"Why?"

"It's too raunchy for some women."

Hilda shrugged. She wanted to learn everything she could while in this country.

And learn, she did.

While Lizzy was picking up the gagging gift that Serenity had ordered, and Linda and Tissie made some purchases, she browsed the aisles. First, she noticed the big paper books, called magazines, showing nude women, even ones exposing their female parts, and ones with udders so big and firm that she wondered that the women could walk without falling on their faces. Then there were the men with manparts so big and long they nigh dragged on the floor when they walked.

They

made her three husbands… even Torolf… look like boylings in comparison.

She giggled and moved on. The massage oils and herbs, she could understand, but why would anyone want to put clamps on their nipples, and why whips and paddles?

The others were ready to leave, noting the lateness of the hour and the need to prepare for tonight's event.

"I would like to purchase a gift for Torolf first."

All heads turned to her.

"This," she said, holding out a jar of chocolate with a brush attached. "He loves chocolate."

They all laughed, as if at some private jest.

The lout did not deserve gifts, except that he had rid the Norselands of that beastly Steinolf, and that was no small thing.

"Should I be buying a gift for Spike's birthing day celebration?"

"Nah!" Lizzy said, "Just tell him about the gift you bought for Max. That will be gift enough."

What an odd thing to say!

He was gonna become a chocoholic... or die trying...

Torolf looked at his wristwatch and wondered where Hilda was. She'd been at Serenity's for several hours.

And, actually, he was getting tired of all these guys crowding his space. His and Hilda's space, to be more precise. Oh, he knew why they came, and it wasn't for some birthday bash. They were worried about him and Hilda and the threat from some nutcase alien hunters, especially after they'd researched the National Center for Alien Research. These pseudoscientists had pulled some deadly stunts in the past, in the name of science.

He picked up his cell phone, leaned against the kitchen counter, and waited for someone to pick up. The guys had watched reruns of Desperate Housewives after the races ended, and were standing, about to leave. There was no beer left.

He had his cell phone in one hand and Slut's dog collar clutched in the other.

Slut, straining at his hold on her, would love to shoot out the door when the guys opened it to leave. She hadn't been out shaking her bootie since this morning, a dry spell in her doggie dating world.

"Hello, Morgan residence. Serenity, master tattoo artist."

"Hey, Serenity, how about sending Hilda back here? The guys want to say good-bye to her before they leave."

Said guys scoffed at his lie, but he didn't want to sound anxious to have her back with him, which he was, dammit.

"Uh…"

Red flags went up in Torolf's brain. "Uh " is not a good sign. "Serenity… ?"

"Okay, she went to the mall with Linda and Lizzy and Tissie, and you shouldn't worry about her, she'll be all right, she's in good company, and look, I think I heard their car pulling up right now."

"You mean, Linda of the Ben Wa balls, Lizzy the stripper with the nipple rings, and Tissie of the ice cream cone tattooed breasts?"

Each of the guys, big ears tuned on high, turned around and sat down. No way were they going to leave now.

"You don't have to be sarcastic," Serenity told him.

"I'm sorry. It's just that Hilda doesn't know her way around here." And she's from the bleepin' eleventh century.

"She's really sweet."

"Who?"

"Hilda, of course."

"Well, I don't know if I'd call her sweet." Unless I'm eating her. Then she's sweet, for damn sure.

The doorknob rattled, and he said, "That's her now. Bye."

Hilda came in carrying two shopping bags with mall store imprints on them.

One

of them was from Victoria's Secret.

Every single male eye in the room took note of that fact.

"Greetings," she said to each of the guys. To Torolf, she just gave a glower.

Apparently, she was still in a snit over waking up in his bed. Why is it that women can engage gung ho in the deed, then blame it on the guy the next day?

"I thought I told you to stick close, that we have to worry about that alien research wacko." Big mistake! He realized it the second the words left his mouth.

"You are not my master. I needed garments for the birthing day celebration, and Serenity asked us to pick up a gift for Spike that was being held for her in a store at the mall."

"So, Max, spill. There are going to be babes at this party tonight who have nipple rings, tattooed breasts, and Ben Wa balls? Is that why you didn't want us to come? Keep the goodies all to yourself, huh?" This was JAM speaking, a smirk on his face.

"Oh, do you speak of Linda and Lizzy and Tissie?" Hilda asked, unaware of the suggestive nature of their questions. "They are my new friends. I will introduce all of you tonight."

"Thank you, chère, 'specially since Max failed to tell us about these lovely ladies." Cage was enjoying the hell out of Torolf's squirming.

He glanced at her bags. "Looks like you had a good day."

"Yea, I did. I hope you do not mind that I took some parchment money from your pocket."

"That's all right."

"I bought so many things. Garments, shoes, soap, even Joy."

They all arched their brows at that.

She took out a bottle and squirted it into the air, filling the air with an overpowering scent.

Perfume. She meant perfume.

"We did not realize it was so late, but in the end we had to go get Serenity's gift for Spike."

"What did she get him?" Torolf had brought a box of Cuban cigars with him.