Honey Red (34 page)

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Authors: Liz Crowe

BOOK: Honey Red
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“How do you want it tonight Hannah?” Nick whispered, running his hands down her face, in her hair. “Your wish is our command.”

She opened her eyes and cupped Nick’s face with one hand, pulling Ian back up with the other. “I want,” she gulped. “I want you,” she kissed Nick’s lips. “Inside me. And I want you,” She turned her head to give Ian a kiss. “Inside him.”

Both men raised their eyebrows. She laughed, then gasped, putting her hand to her stomach. Nick sat up, alarm on his face. “What is it? What’s wrong.”

Ian just smiled, and slid down to his elbow. “Feel it?” he asked passing his hand over her belly. She nodded, pulling Nick close and placing his hand on her stomach, near Ian’s. The baby did it again. A little flutter, then still.

“Holy shit,” Nick whispered, his face a mask of amazement. “Why did it stop? Is he okay?”

Hannah laughed at the innocent worry on his face. She kissed him. “First off, you don’t know if it’s ‘he.’ Secondly, the interior beating I will take has just begun. So relax, you will get plenty of opportunity to feel it. And now … can we please resume our prior activity.”

Ian kissed her. “Okay. I’m gonna orchestrate this one. You, up,” he said to Nick who stood, and tugged his jeans off, making her lick her lips in anticipation.

“Wait,” she said, putting a hand on Ian’s arm. “Show me….”

Ian gave her a wicked grin, then turned, gripped Nick’s thick cock and licked and sucked the man to a near orgasm. Her body twitched and pulsed in response to the amazing show of extreme man in front of her. She moaned when Nick fisted Ian’s hair and pumped his hips. “Stop,” she demanded. Ian lifted his mouth off Nick’s incredible sex.

The other man panted, put his hands on his hips. “Count backwards from fifty,” Ian muttered into Nick’s ear, making her smile. “Roll over, Red, up on your hands and knees.” He patted the bed. She grinned and obeyed him. She wasn’t heavy enough in the front for it to be uncomfortable in this position. If anything, it relieved some of the early pressure on her spine. She wiggled her hips.

“C’mon, boys. Show me what ya got.”

 

 

Nick sighed when Ian placed his hands on Hannah’s hips, showing him how she was positioned. He’d nearly blown down Ian’s throat and was still hanging on by a thin thread, but he leaned over her, cradled her stomach, his baby, their baby, in his hands. Then reached higher, cupping her full breasts, sucking in deep breaths of her incredible, intensified scent. “You sure,” he sighed into her ear, already positioning himself, needing to be inside her so badly he wanted to yell and plow in to her. But he held back. She shifted.

“Yes, Nick. I’m sure.” Her voice poured over his psyche like her namesake beer, calming and enervating him at the same time. “Please, now.” She arched her back and he slid into her, loving the new sensations, the heat and pull of her changing body. “Oh, yes,” she sighed as he stroked deep.

He felt Ian’s hands on his hips sensing his finger slide down, lubricated with something lovely and warm. He tensed, but Ian soothed him, slipped a finger into his ass slow. “Baby,” Ian muttered, his voice rough with barely repressed lust. “I need… can I…?”

Nick nodded, still thrusting in and out of Hannah’s depths. “Ah, shit,” he cried out when Ian’s cock breached him and went deep.

They synchronized their rhythm, each stroke from Ian sending him deeper inside Hannah. He had never in his life felt so complete. His eyes hurt but the rest of him roared with need. Ian’s cock reached his gland, then retreated, making him grunt and press harder into Hannah.

“Coming,” she cried out, but he smelled her a half second before she declared it, her rich, sweet odor swirling around his head. “Oh, hell, yes.” She groaned as her pussy clutched him, drew him deep.

Ian held tight and he smiled as the man grunted and released inside him. Nick waited, wanting to draw it out; letting his woman and his man have their release before he let his own cloud his brain, sending flashes of phantom light behind his eyes. “Oh my God,” he groaned, draping his torso over Hannah’s back.

Ian pulled out, and he withdrew from Hannah’s body, smiling when he sensed her collapsing over on her side. He dropped down and held her, loving the lush smell and fullness of her. “I love you,” he whispered, shivering with post-orgasmic pleasure. “Sleepy now,” he muttered into her neck. And he fell down between Hannah and Ian and slept, dreamless, for hours.

Epilogue

 

Four months later they stood together, hands clasped in front of nearly two hundred people, the combined forces of both Ypsi Brewing and Traynor Distribution Company plus several of Nick’s Marine friends. Daisy sat, panting, at Nick’s side. Ian looked at them both, the crazed events of the past year rolling around in his head, passing behind his eyes in a montage of lust, love, drama and most recently messy, loud and terrifying childbirth. He smiled at Hannah, put his hands to both of their faces. Daisy pushed her nose into his leg. The baby made a funny mewling sound. Jamie rushed over to her seat, put his hand on her face. “Daddy, I think Danielle needs something.”

“It’s okay, Jamie,” Hannah said, her natural unflappable nature taking to motherhood like a duck to water. “She’s fine. Come on up here and stand by your dad, okay. Grandma will hold your sister.”

Moira smiled and pulled the pink-swaddled newborn from her seat and handed her to Hannah’s mom who had tears streaming down her face.

The boy nodded, giving the baby one last concerned look then jumped up to stand between Nick and Ian. Nick put a hand on his head. The boy gripped both men around the thighs, his eager gaze directed at Hannah.

Ian had never felt better or more nervous. He smiled at the justice of the peace who’d agreed to preside at their commitment ceremony. He had Dan’s dog tags clutched in his hand. Hannah held out her palm and pulled Nick’s up. The other man took the tags, kissed them both, then knelt down to fasten Dan’s military ID to Daisy’s collar. The dog shook, sending the tags tinkling in a somehow appropriate way. A slight, but attractive older woman stood by Nick, her huge dark eyes full of tears. Nick put an arm around her.

“Thank you,” Janice Anderson said. “I wish all of you the very best.” She kissed each of their cheeks then took her seat.

Nick took a deep breath. Ian put his arms around them both as they repeated traditional words, exchanged kisses then turned to face friends and family his heart bursting with happiness. He stood between them, held them close and whispered. “I love you. Thank you.”

They each kissed his cheek. Jamie jumped up into his arms. “Yay Daddy! Family!”

The crowd laughed.

Ian smiled. “Okay, people,” he said, holding his son. “Let’s party.”

 

Hannah sat, exhausted in mind and body, holding her daughter’s sleeping form to her breast. Daisy led Nick over and he dropped into a chair. “I love that dog,” she said, plopping Danielle into her father’s arms. Nick smiled, and her heart swelled with happiness. The man kissed his daughter, cradled the infant to his chest, pulled the blanket away from her face, and ran his fingers down her face. The girl made a satisfied sound and settled herself into her father’s neck, her lips pursing as she fell into sleep in her favorite spot.

Jamie clamored into Hannah’s lap. “What are you doing up this late mister?” She kissed his hair, loving his warm little boy scent. She felt Ian’s hands on her shoulders. He crouched down on her other side.

“Over here buddy,” he said, pulling Jamie off her lap. “Hannah’s too tired.”

“But…,” he held out his hands, flexing his fingers.

She laughed. “Selfish, like his dad,” she said. She sat between her men and watched the celebrations continue. The next thing she knew Ian was picking her up, carrying her somewhere. She muttered into his neck but let the blessed sleep consume her.

“Relax,” she heard Nick murmur in her ear.

“Sleep,” Ian said. The two voices combined like a lullaby as they laid her down someplace soft and covered her with something warm.

 The warm wet dog nose shoved into her neck, and then retreated as if satisfied that she was settled. “Daddy!” she heard Jamie just before she dropped off, napping at her own wedding but no longer really caring. “Mommy’s sleepy. Where’s my sister?”

She smiled, and held out a hand. Nick took it and pressed it to his lips, then rose and kissed Ian before they retreated, leaving her to a few moments of well-earned rest.

 

The End

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

About Liz Crowe

 

Microbrewery owner, best-selling author, beer blogger and journalist, mom of three teenagers, and soccer fan, Liz lives in the great Midwest, in a major college town.  Years of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as an ex-pat trailing spouse, plus making her way in a world of men (i.e. the beer industry), has prepped her for life as erotic romance author. 

 
When she isn’t sweating inventory and sales figures for the brewery, she can be found writing, editing or sweating promotional efforts for her latest publications. 

 
Her groundbreaking romance subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” has gained thousands of fans and followers who are interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”)

 
Her beer blog
www.a2beerwench.com
is nationally recognized for its insider yet outsider views on the craft beer industry. Her books are set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch and in high-powered real estate offices.  Don’t ask her for anything “like” a Budweiser or risk painful injury.
 

www.lizcrowe.com
www.brewingpasssion.com
www.a2beerwench.com
www.facebook.com/lizcroweauthor
www.twitter.com/beerwencha2
www.facebook.com/groups/romanceforreallife
www.facebook.com/jackgordonrealtor

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