by Liz Crowe
They watched, standing close enough that she could lean into his strong torso and take some of the pressure off her aching feet as the bar emptied out. Eight of the ten kegs were blown, and the last two were likely on their last few pours. She’d had at least two beers spilled on her as people hugged their congratulations and poured beer down her front and back. Exhaustion stole over her, combining with the incessant worry about Dustin’s health, making her breathe faster. As if sensing her distress, Erik put an arm around her and brought his lips near her ear.
“Let’s get out of here.” She nodded, felt her thighs tighten and her nipples harden at the feel of him so near. Then had guilt wash through her whole brain, pouring ice-cold water on her libido. “He texted me. Your phone must be dead.”
She looked at his phone’s screen. Hey. I’m lonely and sad and feeling sorry for myself. Can’t get Helena’s phone. Come back. Bring food.
She grinned, let herself relax for the first time in hours and followed Erik out. “Let’s walk. It’s not far. I need the air,” he said as he draped an arm around her and they made their way through the still milling crowds on the Denver sidewalks. After stopping in an all-night market for some cheese, fruit and bread, she tucked her arm through his and took a deep breath, pondering the new shape of her life. He stopped, tugged her into a darkened doorway at one point, held her close.
“You okay? Really? With this…”
She put her head against his chest, listened to the beat of his heart. “I haven’t sorted it out yet, to be honest.” He tightened his grip and she sensed his lips against her hair. “But I like it so far. I just don’t want there to be—I don’t know—”
“Helena, what you and Dustin have, no one can change, take away or lessen in any way.” He put a finger under her chin and tilted her face to his. His blue eyes gleamed in the dark, and she gave in to the urge to touch the rough, short beard along his jaw before reaching back and releasing his long hair from its tie-back and burying her fingers in it. It felt soft, perfect. She sighed as he covered her mouth, his lips full and firm. Her body responded instantly, and she had to pull away to keep from going any further in public. “Dear God, woman, you are…” He released her and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Like I said.” But she stopped him with a finger over his lips.
“I know, Erik. Let’s see where it takes us, okay? And together, as three.” He nodded, and they walked the last four blocks to the Marriot in comfortable silence.
After a long kiss and grope session in the elevator, Helena shoved him out into the hall, laughing at his sheepish expression.
He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I told you I can’t keep my hands off you. Sorry.”
She pointed down toward their suite. “Go. I need a shower. Give him some food and company while I clean up.” He raised an eyebrow then sauntered down the hallway, whistling.
“About damn time.” Dustin was perched on the bed, laptop on a pillow, SportsCenter on the television. His grin was genuine. Helena kissed him, long and deep. “Mmm, nice. But you reek, my love. Did you bathe in a keg or what?”
“Don’t ask,” she tossed over her shoulder before closing the bathroom door. Leaning a moment against it, she wrestled with a complex stew of relief, happiness, tension and a small twinge of jealousy. She knew damn well what Erik would do to offer Dustin company.
But she was okay with it. And while that amazed her on one hand, nothing felt more perfect. She sighed and turned on the shower full blast, full hot and stripped out of her limp clothes. Letting the erotic visions of them together fill her head, enjoying how her body felt under her hands as she imagined them, she stayed a solid thirty minutes under the spray, letting it wash every molecule of the day’s craziness off her skin.
Emerging, pink-skinned and breathlessly horny, she wrapped a towel around herself, brushed her teeth and fluffed up her long, damp hair before opening the door. The vision that greeted her made her gasp and take a step back. Dustin stood, feet planted apart, hands threaded through Erik’s long hair as the man lowered his lips over Dustin’s long cock. Her already damp and ready pussy pulsed as she watched, one hand braced against the doorframe as Dustin moaned, moved his hips, and Erik lapped at the head of him, then sucked him down again, cupping his balls with one hand, his other hand gripping Dustin’s ass, holding him close.
With a low, loud groan of satisfaction Dustin closed his eyes and pumped his hips faster. “Now,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. Erik released his shaft and stood, and the two men kissed, the hard planes and angles of their masculine bodies entwined and beautiful, their cocks both weeping at the tips in anticipation. Dustin broke away, held Erik’s face between his hands. “Now, Aldrich,” he growled.
Erik spun him around and rubbed slick lubrication down his length before penetrating Dustin’s ass with a loud cry of satisfaction. Dustin had his hand on the bed, his ass tilted up. The minute Erik’s cock was buried deep, Dustin’s hips thrust once, twice and she saw his cock swell and release. His milky essence spilled down onto the bed as Erik gripped his hips and pumped into him over and over. Their combined groans filled her ears, the smell of their passion pierced her nose and she slid to the floor. She put a hand between her legs, needing her own release so badly she could taste it as she watched Erik tense, go up on his tiptoes and cry out in German, the muscles of his ass get taut with the effort of climax.
“Dear God.” She gulped, unable to finish herself, just happy to watch them, as Erik slid his cock free of Dustin’s body and they collapsed down on the bed, once again entwined in each other arms, lips locked in a kiss. Dustin sighed and she watched him drift toward sleep as he always did. Erik stayed awake, looking up at the ceiling, stroking Dustin’s shoulder and chest absently.
Helena stood and made her way over to the bed. He started, then smiled up at her. “You said keep him company.” Easing his arm out from under Dustin’s now limp form, he stood, kissed her then made his way toward the bathroom for his own shower. Biting her lip as the strange mix of emotions took hold of her once again, she sat, suddenly frozen and unable to process.
“Hey you, blonde lady. C’mere.” Dustin held out an arm, encouraging her to snuggle into his shoulder. She hesitated, felt tears press against her eyes but tried to hold them back.
“I don’t know, Dustin.” She looked away and watched steam roll out of the bathroom.
He went up on one elbow and touched her bare leg, making her skin pebble. “I heard you talked with my dad. I’m sorry you had to hear it that way. I was going to tell you, after…” She shrugged and willed the tears away. He sat and gathered her in his arms. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll make sure everything works out.” She broke from him and stood.
“Dustin, you don’t have to make sure I’m okay. I’m a grown woman. I want to help. I’m here to help make your dream a reality. Our dream. Our brewery.” She paced and he sat back, not rising to her bait, which made her even madder.
“God damn it, do you ever get mad? Seriously, you are such a nice guy. Smart, logical, responsible, perfect, Jesus!” Her ears rang, and she looked around for something to throw to relieve the pressure building up in her chest. Clenching and unclenching her fists, she sat, tried to calm her breathing. “I don’t care that you cut yourself off from your parents. I don’t even care that your father was the one to tell me. Frankly, we had the most adult and rational discussion we’ve ever had probably because of it.” Dustin raised an eyebrow. “That’s right, I talked with your father. Does that piss you off?” She glared at him.
“Should it?” He stood and pulled on his jeans. “What is this really about, Helena, hmm? I know I’ve thrown a lot at you this weekend, but—”
She shook her head and stood in front of him, the twin urges to punch him and throw herself into his arms making her dizzy.
“No. I can handle it. I want to handle it. But together, with you. You should have told me you were taking that step with your parents, Dustin. We are partners, remem
ber?”
He sighed and tugged her close and she wrapped her arms around his slim waist. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I get this weird protective thing kicking in with you sometimes. Don’t know why. You’ve never been anything but annoyingly independent.”
She looked up at him. “I love you, Dustin Prufrock. From the minute I laid eyes on you. God damn it. You dragged it out of me although I tried like hell to fight it. Now that I’ve opened up, you have to let me in, all the way.” He nodded, kissed her gently, then when she groaned and reached down to touch his hardening cock, he deepened it, possessing her with his tongue, twining his fingers in her damp hair.
He broke from her lips held her face in his hands. “And this marriage thing? I meant it when I said I won’t pressure you anymore. I only want you to be happy.”
“I know. I’m…getting over it. We have a lot to do now, we gotta make the brewery really soar this year. I know the books, remember. And those loans…ugh.” She tried to pull away as stress poured into her brain but he held her tight.
“Stop. I’ll…I mean, we will be fine. We know what we’re doing.”
A set of arms encircled them both. Erik’s deep, accented voice penetrated her ear, making her smile. “Ja. If there were two people who knew more between them it would be a crime. Now, let’s get some sleep so we can wake up tomorrow and fuck. My flight’s at noon.”
“Nice.” Dustin leaned back and tried to look angry but Helena burst out laughing at him.
“Okay, sleep, then fucking. Sounds like a plan to me.” She slapped both men on the ass. “You guys are one up on me I think so…get some rest.” She curled onto her side and sighed with contentment when Dustin slid into her arms on one side and Erik cupped her body from behind and pulled the soft cover over them all. She kissed Dustin’s neck, turned and met Erik’s lips. “Good night, men.”
Chapter Fifteen
“I’m going back.” Dustin threw the mail on the kitchen counter. “I need to figure out what the fuck is wrong with the—” He stopped and stared at her. She sat gazing out the huge wall of windows onto their yard as the snow fell. She had her hair pulled up, exposing the long alabaster line of her neck.
She chewed at her lip, a line of worry between her beautiful blue eyes. Dustin blew out a breath. Dear God, but he was a lucky man. In love with the woman of his dreams, albeit one who did not always make things easy with her fiercely independent nature and barely controlled temper. But whose happiness suffused their lives, finally, thanks to something he’d done.
He leaned on the counter a minute before she noticed him. He knew the improbability that the two people he loved most in the universe were both emotional cripples except when it came to him. Grinning, he walked over, and kissed her neck.
She had the photo of the three of them in her hand. The one snapped when they’d received their award at the festival that weekend. Tears dripped onto it. He took it from her and knelt between her knees, laying his head in her lap.
“Mmm, where have you been?” She threaded her fingers through his hair. “You need a haircut. Dinner’s ready. I was just tired all of a sudden. Jesus, I could take a nap right now.” He pulled her to her feet. It took all he had not to lay her back on the couch and take her right now. “I can’t shake this cold or flu or whatever…” Her voice trailed off. “But I keep having that damn dream.” She looked up at him. “I’m late.” He blinked.
“Okay, late for what?”
She frowned and light exploded behind his eyes. He gripped her arms as panic stole across his psyche.
“Don’t be obtuse. I’m terrified.”
They’d been putting in long hours together, pushing their staff to its limit, he knew. But no one complained. He’d started the company on a basis of emotional ownership for all his employees, giving them leeway to make decisions and take ownership of projects well beyond the norm. So far it had worked great. But now that they faced a year filled with financial uncertainty he knew he’d been short with them, stressed beyond belief. Helena sucked in a breath and he knew she was trying hard not to cry. “Sorry. I promise to be better tomorrow. I’m just tired. You know how I get.”
“No, I’m sorry. How late? I mean, what? Oh hell.” He sat, staring at her. They’d spent a long vacation between Christmas and New Year with Erik in Barbados, a long two weeks of sun, surf, food, beer and some of the most amazing sex he’d ever experienced. Not a condom in sight. His tired brain refused to process it, not yet. Kids were not part of his personal agenda. Never had been. And something about having a child with a woman he adored but who refused to marry him made a small fire of anger flame in his gut. But he had made a promise. And he’d kept it so far.
She stood, and he put a hand on her stomach, trying not to let the exhaustion and stress make him say stupid shit, like it usually did. She sighed and let him hold her a second, talking into his shirt. “I don’t know. It’s probably stress anyway. But I need to sleep.”
He led her to the bedroom and tucked her in, then sat a minute, watching her drift off. His heart clenched with delight, worry and terror all at once. His cock stirred, giving him a different message. Struggling with the urge to wake her, fuck her, own her all over again, knowing she’d not protest, he stood, adjusted himself and turned off the light. Just before tiptoeing out he laid a small blue box on the bedside table so she’d see it the minute she woke.
He did need to get back over the brewery. Truth was, he had to keep busy. Nervous energy forced him to action nearly around the clock. Knowing the best thing would be to crawl into bed with her and get a decent night’s sleep, he ate standing up, drank yet another cup of coffee. Ignored the funny buzzing he kept getting in his fingertips, chalking it up to lack of sleep and too much caffeine. Grabbing his keys and phone, he headed back out into the wintry night.
*
Helena lay in the quiet room, hand on her stomach, her heart doing flips in her chest. The snow fell, quiet, cold and beautiful. She watched it, not realizing she’d fallen asleep again until the phone buzzed by her ear nearly two hours later. She fumbled for it, knowing the second she answered it would be bad news.
“It’s Dad.” Dustin’s voice was muffled. She tried to focus. “He’s dead.”
“Oh God, honey, where are you?”
“Heading to their house. He just dropped to the floor. Aneurism. Or something.”
Thoughts of funerals, plans and of what would be expected of him now made Helena clench her jaw. But she had to be supportive. “Okay. Um, do you need me to…”
“No. I’ll—I’ll be home soon.”
She laid back, absorbed how this moment represented a turning point, then called Erik.
“Wow,” he exhaled. “That is not good news at all.” His soft German-tinged English made her smile in spite of her stress.
“No, it’s not, Captain Obvious.”
“Captain? What?”
She stood, started pacing the bedroom. “Never mind. Sorry.”
“Well, what happens now? I mean, who’s going to…”
Helena gulped and cut him off. “Well, funeral and stuff first. Then…shit. Who knows.”
“Ja.”
They sat, quiet. Until she finally told him she should go. “Thanks.”
“For what, my love?”
“For being you.” She hung up and climbed into the shower, figuring sleep could wait.
*
Dustin stood by his mother, greeting everyone, doing all the right and proper things one does at the funeral of a patriarch, a pillar of society, a guy who managed to take his own father’s business from small to colossal in one generation. It was, in a word, brutal. His mother rose to the occasion, naturally, all brittle energy and putting on a good face. He watched as she greeted the governor’s wife, the mayor of Grand Rapids and pretty much every single successful businessman in the Midwest.
His parents’ marriage had been a farce best Dustin could tell, from the moment he’d been able to sort out such things. His mother s
tarted drinking every day at five, and his father had had a string of affairs with younger women for years. But they’d stayed together. He put a hand to his head, which had started to pound. The last three days had been the worst kind of nightmare between dealing with his mother’s incessant demands on his time, and the ritual of handing over something like twenty thousand dollars to have a funeral. Helena had been amazing. A real rock of stability for him. He smiled, catching her eye across the room as she sat with the brewery staff.
“Valerie!” The sound of his mother’s delighted, high-pitched voice made him shiver with annoyance. He turned and saw her, the lovely woman he’d once been engaged to. Had grown up with really, vacationing on Lake Michigan, down in St. Barts, going to school with. She’d been his prom date, twice. She smiled, her face no longer a mask of anger. And he relaxed.
Every hair on Helena’s body stood on end at the sight of the rich bitch Valerie Masterson with her arms around Dustin. Their easy familiarity did something ugly to her nerve endings. She looked away, trying to pay attention to whatever conversation was swirling around her from the brewery staff. She clenched her fists and chanced another look. Dustin was smiling, had his hand on her arm still. The look on the woman’s face was one Helena immediately recognized. At that moment she caught the eye of Dustin’s mother. The woman was staring straight at her, the evil smirk on her face-lifted countenance a clear message just before she hooked her arm around her son’s and the other around Valerie’s and led the two of them into the crowd.
Helena stood, her face on fire. “I have to go,” she said to everyone and no one. The group stared at her, amazed. She stumbled past them, around the clots of famous, rich and otherwise important people in the room and found the front door.
“Helena.” The sound of her name froze her in place. She turned and came face to face with Virginia Prufrock, in all her glory. Helena figured she must have left Dustin and Valerie somewhere so she could seek her out. Virginia was herself an heiress to an automotive fortune on the east side of the state, and had married the wealthiest man in Michigan. The sum total of Dustin’s parents equaled this woman now, however. Panic bloomed in Helena’s chest as she caught herself actually missing the elder Prufrock’s somewhat neutralizing presence. “Dear.” The woman’s simpering look made Helena want to smack her, hard. “Thank you so much for coming.”
