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Authors: Liz Crowe

BOOK: Paradise Hops
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Fighting down the urge to hold her, to whisper soothing things in her ear, to fix what he had no power to repair, he let her finish. But he could feel his heart pounding and a strange humming noise had begun in his brain. She brushed her hair back and sat a little straighter. “The, um, act itself didn’t take that long, I guess. I was knocked out at first from hitting my head; when I came to and he was, um, you know, on me, and, ah, well, hell, I mean it’s not like I was a virgin. I mean I could have just called it rough sex,” she gulped, “at least that part.”

Garrett stood, ran a hand down his face, tried to capture words swirling around in his brain. She sat, hands clasped together, looking small, vulnerable, and unprotected.
Good Christ. He needed a drink.
“Do you have any bourbon,” he ground out. She pointed to an elaborate antique-looking cabinet. He yanked open the doors, grabbed what was likely a two-hundred-dollar bottle of brown liquor and took a slug straight from the neck. He turned, and handed it to her. She did the same, twice, then wiped her lips and set it down without a shudder. His admiration for her ramped up by about a thousand.

“I can stop talking now, if you want.” She sounded so defeated he got furious all over again at the asshole who did this to her, but he had no words, so he merely shook his head. She took a long, shaky breath, looked him right in the eye and went on; shocking him even though he thought he’d just lost the capacity for it.

“So, I laid there and took it, whatever. No big deal. I thought I could be quiet, you know, and he’d just…finish and go away. But, he kept getting madder. His ah, well, he couldn’t keep it up after a while. I don’t know, he had too much to drink, maybe.” Garrett closed his eyes let her words fill his world, ripping apart all he knew about human nature. “So, he used his fingers, then his fist, then when I wouldn’t stop crying, he hit me. Broke my nose.” She touched it, as if remembering. “I tried to fight back at that point. Got pissed, scared he would kill me, figured I had nothing to lose and I was damned if I’d let him keep…keep fucking me with whatever he found, after he got tired of using his own body.” Her eyes had that flat, unaffected look again, which frightened him. But Garrett did not trust his voice, or his body at that moment so he stared at her as she continued. “But, Mr. Dickhead’s dick came back to life, which was good, I guess, or who knows what he would have done to me. He decided he needed to fuck my ass at that point though. Then he finished up where he started. After he broke a couple of my ribs and had a go at choking me.”

“Stop,” Garrett choked out, putting a hand up, literally blind with rage. “Just tell me one thing. Where is he? Where is this bastard? If he’s in jail where he belongs, I am going there and I am going to kill him.” His hands trembled, his knees shook, his whole body felt encased in a cocoon of fury.

She kept going, voice flat, as if she hadn’t heard him. “He left, finally, and I must have passed out. My friend Cathy came over. We were supposed to go to yoga that morning. She said she was gonna leave when I didn’t answer, but she sensed something was wrong. The door was unlocked, anyway, so she found me. I woke up in the hospital, broken nose, two broken ribs, rips and tears in all sort of fun places. A concussion. The works. A date rape victim—the saddest sack in the universe.”

Garrett stared at her. She passed him the bourbon bottle after taking another long hit from it. “They say I sustained enough internal damage that I might not ever have children. Can’t be one hundred percent sure, of course. And I figured since I would never, ever be with a man again, it didn’t really matter.” Her voice sounded so matter-of-fact it made him ill.

 He stood, pulled her up, held her close. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Lori.” She blew out a breath, as if releasing a long-held stress, put her arms around him, tilted her face up to his. He kissed her, something in him keeping his distance, terrified to be the guy that brought it all back. He broke their contact, ran a hand down her face. “I don’t know what to do…what to say. I am so…shit, I’m not handling this well and that’s not what you need.”

“Oh, I can tell. You won’t really kiss me now.” She started to disentangle herself. Something in him snapped. He scooped her up, making her yelp in surprise.

He held on tight, willing her to relax in his arms. “Oh, I’m going to kiss you, Lori. I’m also going to prove to you how a real man acts. If you’re ready.” She closed her eyes, seeming to consider his words, then put her arms around his neck.

“Yeah, Garrett. I’m ready. More than you know.” She kissed him as he walked to her bedroom, her luscious full lips parting for him. He stumbled, nearly sent them both to the floor with his clumsiness. “Ow,” he muttered when his toe connected with a piece of furniture. They both laughed as he eased her down on the silky duvet.

“Sorry, pulling my best chivalrous act here.” He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her again, prepared to use everything he had to prove she was safe, protected, cherished, and loved.

 

 

Lori laid back, let him kiss her, felt herself slowly warm from the inside out. But the panic hovered, ever on the horizon. He murmured to her as he caressed her body. She shifted, so he could slip the straps of her dress down. He traced the line of it with his lips and tongue, and she sensed her skin unfreeze a slow centimeter at a time. She bit her lip.
This is fine. This is okay. This is what I want.

As if hearing her thoughts, he stopped, his breathing heavy, and brought his face up to hers. “I’m trying too hard, aren’t I?”

She nodded, propped herself up on her elbows. He cupped one breast, ran his thumb over her erect nipple, making her shiver. “Just…kiss me, Garrett,” she whispered.

He did, gentle at first, then, when she grasped his neck and clutched at his hair, he got serious about it, using his tongue, letting her taste him. She made a soft sound, and her body finally relaxed. He broke the delicious contact, pinning her with that amazing emerald green gaze. “Tell you what, how about this?” He flopped back onto the bed, grinning. “Come on up here, baby. You set the pace.” She stood, let the silky excuse for a dress slip off, stepped out of her panties and tried not to feel self-conscious about her body. She’d barely looked at herself for the last couple of years, but she knew she was on the average side. Hardly a model, but able to fit a size ten most days, with full hips and breasts.

Garrett sat up and tugged off his shirt, but left his pants on. She grinned at the sight of his straining zipper, appreciated that he was trying so hard not to be threatening. Her skin flushed and her chest constricted.
Had she done it? Found the one?
She climbed up on the bed, shoved all panic out of her head, and kissed him. Then set the pace, as he’d requested, by tugging off his belt and yanking his pants down.

“Oh, honey, ” he groaned, as she cupped his balls, ran a hand up the warm, hard flesh of his cock utterly unafraid, and ready to take this step—more than ready. “I think I….” She looked up at him and smiled, covered his mouth with hers, reveled in his taste, smell and feel. His flesh pebbled under her hand as she parted his lips with her tongue. “Mmm,” he muttered, fisting his hands in her hair, holding her close. She broke their kiss, stared into his eyes. He ran his hands down her waist, cupped her breast, his touch still light, non-committal. “Come up here,” he insisted. She grinned, and looked at his sex, relieved to feel no panic, no need to flee as something else took over. A different, no less urgent sort of need set her nerves alight.

She straddled him, relishing the heat between her legs. Quelling a brief moment of panic, she smiled down at him. He’d known just what to do. Let her set the pace and position, and now, if she didn’t get him inside her she thought she might explode. “Oh, Garrett, you are….” She captured his lips, plunged her tongue into his mouth, gasping as he lifted her up and off him.

“Wait,” he insisted. “Grab my wallet.” He groaned as she moved off him, opened the condom packet and slid the latex down his length. “Lori, you are so beautiful.” his deep voice set off something in her core, lit it on fire, made her match his moan with her own as she climbed up his body, licking at the hard buds of his nipples, nibbling his neck, determined to never ever forget this moment. Their breathing sounded loud in her ears, she smelled his sweat, her own desire, as if all her senses were heightened.

“Take it, Lori. Please. However you want.” He grunted as she shifted her hips. She whimpered at the first penetration. He gripped her thighs. “Are you okay? Should I stop?” She swallowed the brief moment of fear, dropped down and let her long hair curtain his face.

“Don’t you dare stop.” She moved again, kept the contact, banishing the fear and pain to the corner. She needed this. Needed the man beneath her. She arched her back so he could capture her nipple between his lips. He sucked hard, sending zings of pleasure from her scalp to her toes and right back to her core. Her body clenched, and she moved faster, seeking the release she’d denied herself for so long.

Garrett gripped her hips, kept up the suction on her nipple, thrust harder, higher, then released her. “Come on me, Lori, and kiss me.”

She groaned and let it happen, allowed the exquisite forgotten beauty of orgasm roll through her, make her whole self pulse with half remembered pleasure as she covered his mouth. Her body kept twitching, as spasms tore through her, bringing fresh tears to her eyes.

She was okay. She was normal. She could do this.

Garrett took a breath, and she felt him tighten his grip on her thighs, kept his thrust slow and deep. His face reddened as her body continued its slow roll through climax. “Jesus woman, you are, I’m, ah….” She pulled him over, slid beneath him never breaking their contact, not wanting him anywhere but inside her.

He clenched his jaw and planted his hands on either side of her head. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Suddenly, the vision of Eli invaded, as if by magic. The hard planes of his body hovered, his deep blue eyes stared into her. She gulped, felt her body react, gear up for more.

“Make love to me, Garrett. Please. Make me normal again. Oh, God, yes!” He eased in deep, pulled out then back in grinding against her still sensitized clit. And, like that, the panic was gone, not hovering, not threatening, just…gone in a whirlwind of ecstasy as the man thrust into her, slow at first, then picking up speed, groaning her name as she clutched his ass. He cried out and shuddered. She watched his face, put a hand to his rough cheek.

“Open your eyes,” she whispered. “Look at me.”

He did. The look there made her want to weep with relief. As their breathing calmed and bodies cooled, he slipped out of her and headed into the small bathroom. When he emerged, she’d pulled the duvet over her naked body, snuggled down deep letting pure sated fullness overpower her. “Come to bed. Stay. Please.”

Garrett grinned—that huge, contagious thing that made her giggle. He jumped into the bed, curved his warm strong body around her, kissed her shoulders and neck. “Don’t have to ask me twice.” He kissed her neck. “Thank you.”

She pressed back, loving the feel of him, hard and firm against her. “For what? Surely, a guy like you can get that anywhere he goes. Just flashing that smile?”

He held her close, kissed her shoulder. “Maybe. But, you rocked me, I won’t kid you. Thanks for letting me be, you know, something special.” He tightened his grip. “Can I ask one thing?”

Lori felt a little flare of something she’d later identify as love, then frustration, then anger before she answered his unasked question. “He’s dead. A big crash on I-94, while I was still in the hospital. He was drunk, but, luckily, only managed to kill himself.” She turned over and snuggled into his shoulder, draping her arm and leg across his body. “Now let’s sleep. I want more later.”

A soft snore assured her Garrett was one step ahead of her already.

Chapter Five

 

Garrett tried to focus on the stack of sales charts, profit and loss sheets, and other hard data. It all pointed to a clear conclusion, and one he didn’t really want to contemplate. In spite of achieving near cult status for the last twenty-plus years in business, Brockton Brewing was losing money. Big time. He ran a hand over his face, attempting to banish her from his brain.

Lori’s goofy lopsided smile, her loud and direct laugh; her lips, hands, and body made him shiver with anticipation. His hands itched to bury into that wild tangle of curly brown hair, to drown in her intense hazel eyes. While her mile-wide stubborn streak made him absolutely nuts, it also made her what she was. So, he loved it. She could be amazingly present one moment, and then, within seconds, shut down and disappear down a rabbit hole, emotionally speaking, but he didn’t care.

 And since their first night together, the woman was positively voracious. They’d had sex in more ways than he could remember ever doing it—not that he was complaining. But she’d called a halt to the near daily contact two nights ago, out of the blue, had told him to give her some space. He had, but was chafing at it now. He needed to see her.

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