Moments Of Beauty

by J B Heller

  I don’t even bother trying to be discreet when I rearrange my junk this time, “No, no problem at all. Unless you have a problem with me sitting here packing wood for the rest of the night.”

  She’s trying to kill me, I swear. Because the little minx actually sits down on the couch beside me, like right beside me, then rests her head on my shoulder, “I don’t mind. I mean, you might get a little uncomfortable, but I’m okay with it.”

  Of course she is. Fucking perfect, she’s snuggled into my side all soft curves and lush tits and I can’t fucking touch her. “Is there a reason you’re torturing me right now?” I ask.

  She shrugs, which just smooshes her tits together more, “Payback.”

  I’ve taken to staring at the ceiling because looking at her isn’t helping the situation in my pants, but I chance a glance at her when she says that, “For what?”

  She lifts her eyes to mine, and says, “I had the worst case of lady blue balls ever when we were together. Weeks, Hux, you made me wait for weeks. All the while driving me crazy with your kisses and wandering hands. But never touching me where I needed you most. So yeah, this is payback.”

  I drop my head back against the couch, close my eyes and mutter, “Well, shit.”

  When we got back to my room last night I was going to throw on a baggy shirt and leggings, but the opportunity to tease Hux was too much to pass up. So I’d opted to wear the tiniest pair of bed shorts I owned.

  And it worked like a charm. It was a real struggle to keep the smile off my face when I saw the look in his eyes, and I slipped up a couple of times. But it was still worth it. He knew exactly what I was doing, and I was okay with that.

  I figured he deserved it. It used to kill me every time he would put the brakes on when we were fooling around. I’m not sure what the lady equivalent to blue balls is, but I had it. Bad.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t get to enjoy my scheme for very long. We’d ordered dinner and I was so exhausted I fell asleep before I’d even finished eating. I woke up this morning on my couch, with a blanket that I’m assuming Hux put on me.

  Today is another big one so I shower as quickly as possible and grab an apple out of my fruit basket on my way out the door, deciding to forgo breakfast in the restaurant this morning. I don’t have time for it anyway.

  I’m certain I made the right decision in choosing Hux yesterday. I have no doubt at all, which is really surprising, since I was so conflicted about it in the first place. Everything with him is so natural and easy.

  The problem now is where do I find space for him in my busy life? I’ve worked hard to gain a solid reputation in this industry and that doesn’t allow much time for a personal life. That’s how I liked it, too busy to be lonely.

  And too busy to think about this right now, I remind myself as I’m met with my first meeting of the day at the entrance to my office.

  I’ve thrown myself into decking out the hotel so I don’t have time to worry about the hours that El is putting in. She works constantly. The only time I see her is in the evenings, and that’s when I show up and drag her out of her office, then force food down her throat before she falls asleep.

  It seriously worries me the hours she pulls. But when I tried to bring it up, she blew me off by saying it was just a busy time of the year. I don’t buy it. She easily does the work of three people.

  I want her to come back with me when I go. But I don’t see her being able to walk away from her job here. And it’s really not fair of me to expect her to either.

  Could I handle moving back here? I’ve handled it fine so far.

  Do I want to move back? If it means being with El, then yes, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

  But that would mean running the risk of one day running into my father. And that, I don’t think I could handle.

  So basically, I’m fucked.

  The next few days pass the same way, dragging El out of her office around six o’clock every night to spend an hour or two with her before she falls asleep in my arms on her couch. And trying not to over think how in the hell we’re going to make this work between us.

  I’m not sure when I started thinking of her strictly as El again, instead of Eliza. She was Eliza or Liza to everyone else, but she’d always been El to me. My El.

  It’s Friday morning of my second week here, and I’ve dragged the project out as long as I can. Today I’ll put up The One, The Only, in the lobby and I’ll be done. I’ve just stepped out of the shower when the phone to the suite rings, “Hello,” I answer, while scrubbing a towel through my hair.

  “Sorry to disturb you Mr. Hadley, but there’s a man here who wants to see you,” the receptionist from downstairs says.

  I frown, “Who is it?”

  “He didn’t give his name, sorry. He just asked that you meet him in the restaurant.”

  Scratching my neck, I reply, “Ah, okay I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  My stomach fills will a sense of unease as I stand in the elevator and watch the numbers count down until the doors slide open in the lobby. I approach the restaurant and look around the room at the seated patrons, but I don’t recognise anybody except the one of the waitresses, so I ask her as she goes by, “Do you know who asked to meet with me in here this morning?”

  She smiles and nods, “Sure, it’s a guy and his wife, they’re sitting in my section, come with me.”

  Following closely behind her, I look at all the faces of the people we pass until I stop dead in my tracks, before me is my father, and a woman I’ve never seen before.

  My entire body fills with a combination of dread, fear and revulsion, but I can’t move, my out of control emotions have me paralysed, frozen in place.

  He stands and approaches me, and it’s only when he reaches out to touch me that I’m able to move, and I jerk away from his outstretched hand.

  “Huxley,” his gravelly voice says my name and I flinch.

  I haven’t heard his voice since I walked out of his house five years ago. It’s never left me though. It’s haunted my dreams, my thoughts. It was my constant reminder that I would never be enough, I could never be more than I am, a mistake, a fuck up of massive proportions.

  I swallow down the bile that’s risen in my throat, and turn my back on him, but he grabs hold of my arm, “Please, Huxley, we need to talk.”

  His hand on me makes my skin crawl, “There’s nothing to say,” I grit.

  “There is everything to say, son,” he says with desperation tinting his voice.

  And I spin around to face him, “Don’t call me son, I was never more than an inconvenience to you, a constant reminder of what you lost. Of what I took from you. You’ve said more than enough in the past, there’s nothing more that needs to be said.”

  “I’m sorry,” he blurts, and I balk.

  I want to explode, I want to ask him what he’s sorry for, exactly. For convincing a two-year-old that his mother hated him so much she had to leave? For ensuring his son would grow up knowing he was the destroyer of lives? For drinking so much his teenager had to clean him up and put him to bed? Or for eventually sinking his fists into his own flesh and blood just to make himself feel better?

  The woman stands from the table, I’d nearly forgotten about her, “Will you please sit with us? Just for a few minutes?”

  When I shift my glare to her, my father shifts in front of her protectively, and I almost laugh, until I notice the bump protruding from her stomach. The air leaves my lungs as if I’ve been physically body slammed. And that’s exactly how I feel.

  I take the seat closest to me before my legs give out, and stare at her stomach. What the fuck?

  My father helps her sit, then takes the seat beside her, and I watch the way his eyes follow her every move. He loves her.

  She reaches across the table for my hand, “I’m Vivian, it’s nice to finally meet you, Huxley. I’m sorry it had to be like this, Henry thought it would be best.”

  I take her offered hand, its soft and warm, “He
llo, Vivian,” I say, but can’t think of anything else. I’m still in shock, clearly, she’s pregnant, with my father’s child. Jesus, I’m going to be a brother.

  My palms are beginning to sweat, and my head is starting to spin, I’m about to pass out when I feel El’s hand land on my shoulder, “Hey, sorry I’m late,” she says as she pulls out the seat beside me, then presses a kiss to my cheek as she sits.

  I have no idea how she found out I was here, or that I needed her more than I ever have before, and I don’t care, I’m just glad she’s here.

  She rests her hand on my thigh as she turns to my father and says, “Hello, Mr. Haynes, mind if I ask what the hell you’re doing here?”

  God, I love her, she doesn’t pull any punches, just launches straight for the kill. I’m so proud of her right now, but I can’t make my mouth move to tell her.

  My father’s faces flushes with embarrassment, he obviously remembers the way he behaved the only other time he saw her with me. I notice Vivian reach for his hand, in a show of support, and it gives him the strength to straighten his slumped shoulders and look El, then me, in the eye.

  “I saw a picture of you in the paper, the article was about your exhibition here, when I showed Vivian, she told me it was fate intervening. And I believe she was right. I have a lot to apologise for, and I can’t begin to express just how truly sorry I am for the way I treated you, Huxley. You were right, I never treated you the way a father should treat his son. And I will never forgive myself,” he takes a deep breath, preparing for what he’s going to say next, “After you left, I realised a few things about myself. But I didn’t do it on my own.”

  He looks to Vivian and squeezes her hand, “I met Vivian about a year after you left, I knew she was special from the moment I laid my eyes on her. But I knew I wasn’t any kind of man who deserved a woman like her. Despite that, I couldn’t stop myself from getting to know her, and I learnt that,” he pauses and looks to her for guidance. Or maybe reassurance?

  Then Vivian takes over telling their story, “I told Henry that I was a recovering alcoholic and if he wanted to continue to spend time with me, he had to do something about his drinking. He attended my next AA meeting with me, and he hasn’t missed one since.”

  My eyes travel over Vivian again, she doesn’t look worn and aged like my father. I had assumed he looked that way from the drinking, but here was Vivian telling me she was once an alcoholic and she looked fresh and vibrant.

  “So what, you fell off the wagon and you think coming to me for forgiveness will help you climb back on?” I practically sneer.

  But he shakes his head, “No, it’s not like that. I haven’t had a drink in three and a half years, Huxley. It does something to me when I drink, it turns me into someone I don’t recognise. And I’m sorry that that’s the only version of me you ever got to know. So damn sorry.”

  I grit my teeth to keep my emotions in check, this whole conversation is surreal. I can hardly believe he’s sitting across from me, sober, and apologising to me. I feel like this is a practical joke and someone is about to pull the rug out from under me.

  “And what, Hux is supposed to forgive you for years of abuse just because you’re sorry for it now? That’s a bit rich don’t you think, Henry? What possible reason would he have for accepting your apology?” El speaks for me, as I soak in everything happening around me.

  My father’s eyes shine with unshed tears, “For closure, for validation, for the freedom that comes with letting go of what we can’t change and moving forward without the burden of our past on our shoulders. I know I said and did inexcusable things, but I need you to know, Huxley, none of it was true. All the times I berated you, belittled you, and dragged you down, you didn’t deserve it, none of it. And I am proud of the young man you have become despite my actions. I don’t expect you to want to play happy family, Huxley, but,” he pauses, his emotions getting the better of him as a tear slides from the corner of his eye, “Your sister deserves to have a man like you in her life.”

  El’s eyes widen, “Excuse me?”

  Vivian smiles shyly, “We’re expecting a little girl in just over two months. We would like Huxley to be a part of her life. We understand it will take time, and we will willingly give you as much as you need. All we ask, is that you think about everything your father has said today. She,” Vivian rests her hand on top of her protruding belly, “shouldn’t have to pay for our past mistakes.”

  Forgiving my father is something I thought I did a long time ago. But seeing him again, feeling the effects of his voice in my ears again, being filled with an overwhelming sense of guilt, it all proved I hadn’t forgiven him at all.

  I told him I would think about what he had said, and I had accepted his and Vivian’s phone numbers so I could keep in contact if I chose. Then I had locked myself in my suite and sat in the bottom of the shower for the next two hours thinking over my past, my present, and my future.

  Never in a million years did I think I would hear an apology leave my father’s lips, much less directed at me. And a baby sister? It was a lot to take in. So, when El said she couldn’t come back to my suite with me because she had some meetings she couldn’t get out of, I hadn’t argued, I had needed to be alone.

  But now, after letting my father’s words roll around in my head all afternoon, I’ve come to realise it was never me that was the problem. It was him. If he could come to that conclusion and not just live with it, but move forward with his life, then so could I.

  My chest filled with sweet relief, as the weight I’d been carrying since I was a small child began to lift. I smiled to myself, for the first time in my life, my accomplishments felt like something to be proud of. That I was good enough, finally, to be with El. And that I had been all along, I just couldn’t see past my father’s drunken taunts to see it.

  I know I will never have a good or normal relationship with my father, and that’s okay. But I feel like I could come to care about Vivian. She has healed him, and in a way, I guess that means she healed me too. Or at least started the process.

  I’m sitting on the bed in my room, wrapped only in a towel when I hear the door to the suite open, “Hey, it’s me,” El calls out.

  “In the bedroom,” I call back and stand up to get some clothes.

  “Are you trying to turn the tables on me?” I hear her say from the doorway to the bedroom.

  Looking over my shoulder, I see her leaning against the door frame in her work clothes, but there’s an overnight bag by her feet, “Ah,” I start to answer her but she straightens and starts unbuttoning the white business shirt she’s wearing.

  “Mother of God,” I mutter as she reveals the mint green lacy bra encasing her perfect tits. I lick my dry lips, “El, what are you doing?”

  “Taking off my clothes, why? What does it look like?” she asks as she pulls the shirt out from her high waisted black skirt then slides her hands around behind her and slides down the zip and the skirt drops to her ankles.

  It’s safe to say she has my full attention and that of my dick, “El,” I try to warn her, but then I notice the matching panties, dear God they’re not boyshorts this time, it’s a G-string. How do I know this? Because she just stepped out of her skirt, turned around, bent at the waist to pick it up, then placed it on top of her overnight bag.

  I’m frozen in place as she stalks towards me in nothing but those scraps of lace and her crazy high black heels. When she reaches me, her hands slide over my chest all the way down to the towel knotted around my waist, “I think you’re over dressed,” she whispers as she flicks her wrist, dropping my towel to the ground.

  Before she can touch me again, I grab her wrists and hold them above her head, “Are you sure? Like really fucking sure, El? Because there’s no going back this time, never again. You let me inside that tight little body and I’m never leaving your side again. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Her eyes light up with joy and so much heat I can feel it sear my skin, “Yes
,” she breathes right before I crash my mouth down over hers.

  I’ve missed her taste, and I groan as my tongue slides inside her mouth, she clings to me as I pick her up by the waist and carry her over to the bed, “Condom?” I ask.

  She points to her overnight bag and I leave her to retrieve it. Fishing one out, I rip the foil open with my teeth and slide the latex down over my throbbing cock. He’s missed her every bit as much as I have. She’s laying splayed out on the bed with her fingers sliding against the lace covering her pussy and my mouth waters, I remember how she tastes and I need it on my tongue, now.

  Dropping my head, I shove her hand out of the way then push her thighs further apart, allowing my broad shoulders to get between her legs, “You smell so good,” I murmur right before my tongue slides up and down the lace, making her squirm.

  “Just fuck me, Hux, fuck me first, we can play later, please,” she begs, and who am I to refuse her?

  Hooking my fingers in the thin band that wraps around her hips, I tug, ripping the delicate lace from her body then line my cock up with her entrance and slide home. Her hot wet pussy squeezes me so tight I drop to my elbows and kiss her, “I love you, El,” I tell her as my hips begin to move.

  Her nails dig into my back as she urges me to go faster, “I love you too, so claim me, Hux, fuck me like you own me,” she says with a nip to my bottom lip.

  Her teeth sinking into my lip makes my balls draw up and I begin to pound into her tight heat relentlessly, she feels so good, so familiar, it’s like we never stopped. “I could fuck you forever,” I pant as I feel my orgasm building in the base of my spine.

  Her thighs clench tighter around my hips, “Good, ‘cause you’re never fucking anyone else, ever again.” Then her back is arching and a deep guttural groan bursts from my chest as her pussy locks around my cock, making it impossible to hold back any longer, and I come harder than I have in years.

  Dropping down beside her so I don’t crush her under my weight she rolls with me, so I’m still buried deep inside her heat. We lay there staring into each other’s eyes for god knows how long.