Honey Red (17 page)

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Authors: Liz Crowe

BOOK: Honey Red
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“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 red-headed 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 looked 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?”

Hannah tossed her keys and purse on the small dining room table. “None of your business, Mom.” Her head and heart pounded from too much alcohol and stress. The last thing she needed on the planet was her mother nagging at her.

“I had no idea if you were alive or dead,” the woman’s voice rose.

Hannah turned slowly, crossing her arms over her chest. She wanted nothing more than an hour-long shower, a gallon of water, and a three-hour nap. But she had a ton of work to do, assigning values to her new marketing graph system and squaring it with the point of sale computer they’d just set up in the pub. “Mom, I am twenty seven years old. I don’t have to report in to you.”

“Young lady do not take that tone with me. I’m your mother and I deserve respect.”

“Yeah, Mom. Sure. Fine. So, here is what happened. I picked up Jamie Donovan, the five-year-old son of Ian, who is part owner and head brewer where I work—remember? The brewery? Because I knew he was running late and we had a beer school session that night. So we ate dinner together, I learned about beer, we drank too much, then he fucked my brains out until we passed out. And now I need a shower. Okay?” She stomped away, leaving her mother open mouthed with shock.

“Honey! You had a date! Congratulations!”

Hannah bit back a retort and slammed her bedroom door and leaned on it, useless, girlie tears slipping from her eyes before she willed them to stop. Resolute, she pulled her phone from her pocket and sent Ian a text:

“Thanks for the fun time, but we shouldn’t do that again. Okay?”

She hit send before she lost her nerve.

 

 

Ian stood at the kitchen window and watched her dash for the car. He groaned and looked down at the sink.
God damn it, Donovan, you’ve scared her off. You and your fucking horny self went too far too fast and now what? No more friend. Jesus.

He swallowed hard as she struggled and cursed and dropped her keys. His gaze took in the pleasant curve of her jeans-covered ass. And now that he’d had a taste of that, he knew he had to have more. She was amazing, sweet and juicy and as he tried to justify how he’d get back between her legs again, his phone rang. It was Nick.

He ignored it, and his pounding heart beat and went to find Jamie. “Let’s go pal. I’m taking us out to breakfast!”

“MacDonald’s!” Jamie squealed.

“No, IHop!” Ian matched his tone.

“Yay! I love you daddy!” the boy bounced up and down on the couch. Ian caught him in mid jump and ran down the hallway with him, wondering just how much he’d screwed everything up with one, amazing, unforgettable night.

Chapter Eighteen

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