Honey Red

by Liz Crowe

  She’s drunk and as nervous as I am. He smiled, and leaned forward on his elbow, missing the table by a good two inches and smacking his chin on the hard wood surface. “Fuck!” he yelled, cupping his jaw while Hannah laughed so hard tears ran down her face.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hannah’s heart pounded, her ears buzzed and her head spun. And while she knew damn good and well she could thank the beers she’d been drinking for the last nearly two hours, she also had to admit that being here, with Ian, having such a great time with him was turning her on, period. She had gone so long without a man’s touch she had gone beyond missing it. Kind of like when you reach that point in a diet where you don’t even really miss food anymore. Not a fun place to be nor healthy, but there it was.

  Ian stood and stomped over to the freezer, grabbed a bag of frozen vegetables and put them under his chin. She pointed, snorted, and tried to stop laughing but it was too much. He was so incredible—talented, funny, great with his son, and sexier than any one man had a right to be. She had no business here. She stood, as a burst of anxiety nearly split her in half. Tingling in places she had forgotten existed but for their daily functionalities, she was terrified and horny in equal measure.

  “I should go,” she said, looking around for her shoes. Her hair kept falling out of its tie back so she gave up and yanked the flimsy band out and let it tumble around her shoulders. When she stood up and looked at Ian, his mouth was literally hanging open. She grinned, slid her feet into her shoes and started for the kitchen door.

  “Wait,” he croaked. “Hannah. Don’t go.”

  She turned, slowly, knowing full well the affect she was having but unsure what to do about it. “I am not going to sleep with you, Ian Donovan.” Her throat ached with a combination of fear at what was about to happen and worry that it might not.

  In a flash, he was in her personal space, the frozen food forgotten. His full lips were inches from hers. She gulped. He slid his hand up her arm, fisted his fingers in her hair. He smelled boozy but she knew she did too. “I’m not sleepy,” he whispered. The room did a slightly nauseating one-eighty when his lips met hers. She stood, frozen, let him part her lips with his tongue, but she couldn’t seem to move her arms. Her body would not cooperate and do the thing she knew she wanted to do—grab him, wrap herself around him. He broke away; his breath ragged and cradled her face in his large hands. “I don’t know what it is about you. I am prepared to screw up a great, friendly working relationship right now, just to feel your skin against mine. In fact, if that doesn’t happen in the next few minutes I may spontaneously combust.” He stepped away, hands on his hips, looking down at the floor.

  She backed up, stumbling a little when her backside met the counter top. She could sense her nipples pressing the back of her bra. Her thighs trembled and the pulse between her legs matched her heartbeat. She bit her lip. “But…” she said, knowing that with this man, complications would be the name of the game. “Nick.” She said softly, understanding and figuring this for just one more close shot at something special she would miss.

  He looked up at her, his gaze intense, then turned away. She walked around him and sat, raising the glass of Le Fin Du Monde. The end of the world indeed. “I applied for a marketing job with Ford.” She said between sips. “I have an interview next week.”

  Ian dropped into the chair across from her and picked up his glass. “Well, I remember you once yelling at me that the beer job was just a stop gap. That you wanted to be in…how did you put it? Oh, yeah, ‘grown up marketing’ someday.” He glowered at her. She matched his frown.

  “Well, anyway, I have huge student loans, and it’s not like you guys are paying me the big bucks.”

  “Good luck to you then hot shot,” he raised his glass and knocked back the liquid in one gulp.

  He’s as nervous as I am; probably even drunker.

  She sighed and put her glass down. “Tell me about Nick, Ian. You probably need to get your head around how you feel about him. Talk to me. I’m a good listener.”

  He sighed and poured another small portion of the rich brew for them both. “There is nothing to talk about. Nick is…damaged, wounded, in more ways than one. And I have no business even considering anything about him.” She frowned, sipping and forcing herself not to get distracted by the way his jaw clenched when he talked or by her extreme need to kiss him there, to taste his skin just once. “He’s Alyssa’s brother. Did you know that?”

  She nodded. Ian sighed. “Yeah, I guess everybody knows everything don’t they?”

  She nodded again but stayed silent. “Well, he’s blind from a terrorist attack about ten days before he was slated to rotate back home from Iraq with his lover, Dan. Dan was among the Marines killed that day.” He put his elbows on the table hitting the mark this time. “Then about three months ago or so I went to his and Alyssa’s house for dinner. We, uh, ended up, you know.”

  “Fucking.” Yeah, I get it and the mental image I have of it is pretty hot. Hannah put her hand to her lips, hoping she hadn’t actually said those words, and shocked to her very soul that she thought them.

  He cleared his throat, his face reddening. She let him continue. “So, after that nothing really. No communication, not for my lack of trying mind you. And I ended up there again, the night Alyssa and Gavin got engaged and found out she was pregnant. Jesus H., what a daytime drama, huh? I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” He got up and paced. Hannah leaned back in her seat pulling one knee up to her chin, watched him move around the room with a casual grace, comfortable in his incredible skin yet agitated beyond belief. “Gavin and Alyssa left. And we went at it again, a couple of times. It was,” he stopped dead in his tracks and put his hands on the counter. They shook but his voice was without a tremble. “I may well love the man Hannah. He was…is…amazing on so many levels. He’s strong and vulnerable at the same time. Incredibly smart and mature, but naïve and trusting….I want to help him. But he lost it that night. Woke up in a weird dream state and started hitting me. I mean using the full force of his Marine trained self into beating the shit out of me in his sleep. When he came to or woke up or whatever, he had some kind of breakdown. I…I covered him up, tried to talk to him but he wouldn’t listen so I left him alone. When I woke up on the couch, his dog was having a conniption fit. And Nick had taken a bottle of painkillers and a fifth of bourbon into a full bathtub behind a locked door.” He turned and glared at her. “You heard enough yet, or should I go on?”

  The room faded some, and Hannah got to her wobbly feet and put her arms around Ian’s waist, holding him tight. He was stiff at first, resisted her, but then he seemed to crumple and grabbed onto her for dear life. Their lips met, tongues tangled. She wanted him so badly she was willing to overlook a crucial piece of his emotional pie—that he was in love with someone else.

  She leaned back as his lips found her neck, kissed there, then stopped him when he started to reach under her shirt to her bra clasp. “No, hang on. I need to tell you something too.”

  He reached down and cupped her ass, held her against the unmistakable press of his erection. “Seriously, Ian,” she gasped when he reached up and grabbed her hair again, bringing a sharp edge of pain to the many sensations coursing through her.

  “If you tell me you’re a virgin I won’t believe it.” He mumbled around her skin, licking, kissing, teasing her so much she thought she might orgasm without him even touching anywhere near her sex. Her hips angled as her core started a slow, inevitable meltdown, one she’d had no frame of reference for and that scared and thrilled her all at once.

  “No, but I’m sort of, well,” she gripped his head, threading her fingers in his hair as he eased that hand back up her shirt and flicked open her bra with one practiced twist of his fingers. “Like a born again virgin. I mean, I haven’t had sex in so long I…oh Jesus,” she groaned when he leaned down to flick his tongue across her nipple. She didn’t even remember the shirt coming off. “ I am rusty at best
. The guy I, um, well, I don’t even know if…shit…Ian…and if it’s possible for a hymen to grow back due to general disuse…ah, God…yes.” She hissed and shivered as her pulsing sex sought contact with something. His lips, teeth and tongue were all over her breasts and nipples. He shoved his thigh between her legs, grabbing onto the counter to steady them.

  “You’re in great hands sweetheart,” Ian growled as he popped her jeans button, unzipped her and had them down around her ankles in seconds. He put his foot on them, helping her step out as his mouth found hers again, kissing her so hard the room darkened around her. “Allow me to reintroduce you to the amazing, dangerous mystery of orgasm.” He grinned into her lips and Hannah let herself own a half second of sheer bliss as visions of their night together, with dinner, Jamie, the beers, all of it blended into a stupid little domestic fantasy. She shoved it out of her head.

  “Okay, I’m game, Donovan. Show me what ya got.” She squealed when he picked her up and plunked her on the kitchen counter, shoving aside paper towel holders and other crap in his way. As he kissed his way down her neck, to her breasts, sucking one nipple then the other so hard her back arched up and she shook with the need for release she put her fingers in his thick hair. “Just this once you understand because we both need it. No other reason.”

  “Nope, no other reason, but it’s gonna be epic. And I for one cannot wait to see just how red headed you really are,” he grinned, holding her gaze as he stripped off her panties, leaving her totally naked on his kitchen counter.

  “You won’t be disappointed I don’t think – fuck!” she grunted as he found his target, touching her swollen, enervated flesh. He kept his lips on hers, kissing, caressing her mouth, gentle and earnest and amazing while his fingers kept up their dance on her sex. He rubbed, then stroked, then slid some combination of fingers inside stretching her and making her gasp.

  “Now, let’s see if I can’t find…oh, yeah, there it is.” He went deep, pressing high up behind her pubic bone just as his lips found her nipple again and his thumb kept contact with her clit. The combination made her cry out, slap a hand over her mouth in case it woke the kid. But her hips bucked towards him and her arms wrapped tight as he held on and stroked and sucked her until her every molecule seemed to shimmer, hover on the edge of something. She finally gave in to it, groaning and clutching him as her world pulsed, and she saw stars at the edges of her vision. She sighed, and he held her tight, letting her ride out the climax as long as she wanted.

  “Christ almighty, Donovan. I think you should bottle that shit and sell it. Forget all that cascade hops, Bavarian malt crap.” She shivered as he pulled his fingers out of her, put them to his lips and sucked. She watched, elated, embarrassed, sated but wanting more. He put the fingers against her mouth and she stared into his eyes and tasted herself on his skin. “I’ve never…um…well, never mind. My turn,” she whispered, reaching down to unzip him and take his somewhat alarmingly large cock in her hand. It was hot, smooth, rock hard. The tip was soaking wet. “I want a taste,” she rubbed her thumb across it, making him shudder as he leaned his hands on either side of her. She put her fingers in her mouth, absolutely loving the salty, male-ness of him.

  She’d not had much exposure to the male anatomy. And had very limited sexual experience—she lost her virginity in her freshman dorm room, then run down the hall to the shower, bleeding and terrified she was pregnant already. Then when the groping, stupid boyfriend who’d tried to go down on her but had been terrible at it insisted she suck his cock and she’d nearly thrown up gagging; it had all done nothing but convince her the whole act was completely overrated. She’d gotten excellent grades, worked two jobs, and dreamed about how her future doctor boyfriend would learn the right moves and use them on her while she turned into a domestic goddess and they lived happily ever after.

  But right now, this moment, the most amazing and unlikely words coming from her mouth. “Fuck me Ian. Please. I need you inside me so badly I’m…I don’t want anything else. We can be friends. I know you love Nick but please, dear God, fuck me right now.”

  He picked her up, kissing her the entire time. She wrapped herself around him as he walked them down the hall and into the room where she’d snooped around. He dropped her onto the bed, yanked his shirt off then fell down beside her, tugging her up and on top of him in one motion. “Okay, your redheaded wish is my command. But I want you to set the pace.” He grinned and pulled her down so his lips were level with her nipples. He teased, licked, sucked and bit down on her flesh, digging his fingers into her ass until she tossed her head back and came yet again in a rush of lusty energy, her clit grinding against his shaft. “Uh huh. That is exactly what I’m talking about. Now,” he pushed her up. “Let’s see how this feels. Shift your hips, Hannah,” but just as she was about to do it, to have his amazing girth inside her he stopped. “Wait, shit.” He reached across to his bedside table and grabbed a condom. She decided to ignore how many rubbers were in there in favor of continuing along their current, pleasant trajectory.

  She shifted back on his thighs, opened the foil with her teeth and rolled the latex down his shaft, frowning at it. “What does this thing feel like anyway?” She said, more than a little fascinated by how huge he was even sheathed in rubber.

  “Like I’m wearing a girdle. It sucks. But it’s necessary. I mean, I’m clean and I’m sure you are but I’ve done the parenthood thing enough already.” She smiled, and moved forward, going up on her knees and sighing as he pressed against her. “I’ll go slow,” he whispered, and she was shocked to feel tears against the back of her eyes. “Lean down here. Let me kiss you some more.”

  She did, dropping forward so her hair was a red curtain around their faces. He cupped her chin, then her neck, pulling her down and laying one of those amazing kisses on her that she realized she could get addicted to. His slow, easy personality combined with the edgy energy made for the most amazing of all kissing techniques. Ian was firm, in control, yet gentle, probing and as she rolled her hips so he slid into her one delectable inch at a time. He grabbed onto her, swept into her mouth with his tongue and thrust his hips just enough making her cry out and break away, as a surprising pain shot through her.

  “Hannah,” he whispered against her cheek. “Relax. Let me in. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you I promise.”

  She angled her hips down, arching her back so he could reach her nipples and suck her flesh until her skin flushed and the orgasm crept up on her and smacked her upside the head, making her grip his entire length so hard he grunted and grabbed her ass. “My turn on top.” He whispered. She nodded, moving, already feeling him between her legs, as if he were meant to be there. But no, he wasn’t. He loved Nick. But he was here now fucking her so hard she thought her head would fly off.

  She gripped the headboard, lifted her hips high, biting her lip and watching him as he shuddered, and looked up, groaning. His body contracted, and his left leg shook, just once, like a little spasm. She sighed as he pulled out and dropped to his side. She stayed still, legs bent, hands still grasping the headboard. Her every nerve ending sang with happiness, as her brain clouded over. She must have slept because the next thing she remembered was hauling her ass out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom, the twin urges to pee and drink a gallon of water making her head pound. She leaned on the marble counter top and stared into her own blood shot eyes. Oh hell, Hannah what have you done now?

  “Hannah!” She jumped, and grabbed a towel when she heard Jamie’s delighted voice. “You had a sleepover? Do you make pancakes? I’m hungry!” He took off at a full run down the hall towards the kitchen. She peered into the bedroom. Ian was sprawled on his belly, his muscled ass and legs bare. His snores made the windows rattle. She sighed. Fuck buddies seemed logical, useful and even fun on the surface. But as she found a pair of his shorts and a T-shirt to put over her nudity remembering a second too late that her clothes were still on the kitchen floor, a little pinging sound started up in her brain. She lo
oked over at him, touched his broad shoulders and shivered, remembering the drunken intensity of the night before. He rolled, put his arm over his eyes. She avoided looking down at him for a half second then shivered at the sight of his impressive erection. “Shit,” she muttered and got up, headed for the door.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice rough. “Thanks.” She looked back, as anger at herself made her teeth ache.

  “No, thank you. You were the master of the highest orgasmic order, I’ll grant you that.” She tried to be flippant. But something in her resisted this next scene, told her to get her clothes and get out. Jamie and his dad could come up with their own breakfast. She walked down the hall, noticed the little boy curled up on the couch with a book, found her clothes and threw them on, tossing Ian’s into the laundry room. By the time she walked out of there, Ian stood dressed in nothing but boxer shorts that were nicely tented. He smiled at her, held out a hand and she slid into his arms. The kiss was gentle but her lips were raw from the night before. She stepped away.

  “I need to go home.” She said, wanting him to ask her to stay.

  “Okay.” He said, turning to fiddle with the coffee maker. She stood, willing him to say more. But when he didn’t, she grabbed her purse, gave Jamie a quick hug and empty promises to see him soon over his protests and ran to her car before she talked herself out of escaping.

  She dropped her keys, cursed, then climbed behind the wheel. Sitting for a minute trying to catch her breath, she let the slow reality of what she’d done seep into her bones. Her skin tingled. She was pleasantly sore between her legs. And her heart ached for the potential of a ruined relationship in advance.

  Her mom was sitting in her usual spot on the couch, staring at reruns of CSI Miami when Hannah came in. “Where have you been, young lady?”