by Faver, JD
Helmut’s hands cupped her breasts as he took each of her nipples into his mouth, gently suckling them into ecstatic peaks. Passion swept through her reluctant core. She sighed and arched into his touch as she gave in to the sensations overpowering her doubt.
Helmut’s kisses trailed lower, down her ribs and stomach. He caressed her thighs with his lips and tongue. Passion surged as his lips nuzzled her crotch.
Her fingers twined in his hair as her thighs parted to grant him access.
Helmut teased her with his tongue, urging her to higher pinnacles of pleasure.
An animal-like sound escaped her throat as she reached a climax. Take me. I’m yours. I have no free will.
#
At eleven Mel ushered Helmut into the skyscraper that housed the New York offices of Gina Hobart-Constanza. Constanza Modeling Agency held contracts on some of the most famous and recognized faces in the world, and it appeared that Helmut’s was one of them.
As they exited the taxi and made their way to the entrance, Mel noticed quite a few people eyeing Helmut with recognition. He was somebody now. The thought gnawed at her gut.
The doorman held the shiny brass door open for them to pass through.
Mel knew that Helmut felt out of his element here in the city, but for how long? How could he possibly remain the same kind, direct and loving man she had first encountered at the farm? Had he already changed? Was it for the better or for worse?
They stopped in front of the polished elevator doors. She pushed the button and waited, staring at the reflected image. She looked small and pale-skinned beside the tall, handsome sun god, and yet he professed to love her. He told her so. Maybe it was just that he was lonely out there on the farm all by himself. But surely a man like Helmut could have his pick of the local beauties. Maybe if he’d had a greater selection he wouldn’t have chosen her.
The doors opened and they stepped inside. Helmut’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her back to rest against his chest. In the mirrored reflection she watched him press a kiss atop her head. A sweet gesture. A loving gesture. She sighed. A Helmut gesture expressing his affection.
She turned in his arms and sought his lips. A flash of dimples as he lowered his face to kiss her, a deep lingering kiss that caused her to feel weak-kneed, and somehow affected her hearing, because she didn’t notice the elevator doors swish open.
A man cleared his throat noisily. “Well, this must be the girlfriend.”
Mel and Helmut jumped apart.
Gina leaned against the reception desk in the lobby of her offices, starting at them over the top of her glasses.
Mel felt her color rising, but managed a little finger wave. “Gina,” she croaked.
The large man standing beside Gina grinned openly.
Gina waved her hand to indicate the man. “Mel Hannigan, Helmut Engle, this is Dewey Foreman, the President of the Old Golden Brewing Corporation.”
Helmut stepped forward, dragging Mel with him. He extended his hand toward the large man, who stopped being large when Helmut stepped closer. Dewey Foreman just looked heavy. He was a few inches shorter than Helmut and his once massive chest had been out-sized by the belly that extended over his belt.
“Mister Foreman, Sir. It is an honor to meet you.”
Dewey Foreman’s face split into a grin as he grasped Helmut’s hand and proceeded to pound him on the shoulder with a series of loud whacks.
Gina and Mel exchanged quizzical glances.
“Helmut, just call me Dewey.” He took a few steps away, still holding fast to Helmut’s shoulder and hand. They began talking and Gina drew Mel to the other end of the lobby.
Mel raised her brows and lowered her voice. “What is that all about?”
“Football,” Gina whispered. “Dewey Foreman is a football legend.”
Mel shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”
“I wouldn’t have known either,” Gina said, “but I always research prospective clients, so when I googled him his football career took up pages and pages of the internet.”
Mel turned her gaze to where the two men were still in rapt conversation. “It looks like the boys are bonding.”
Gina snorted. “Right. And Dewey Foreman is the one who called me personally to request Helmut’s services, so something must have impressed him other than Helmut’s great looks.”
Dewey turned back at that. “Right you are, little lady. Old Golden is a man’s beer. Our demographics show that our customers are overwhelmingly male and we aim to build on that.” He gave her a wink.
Mel returned with a tentative smile.
“We could try to sissify our beer and draw in the ladies, but that’s not our objective. We decided to build on our strength and take an even bigger bite of the all-American males. That’s our market share.”
Gina grinned broadly. “We can deliver that market to you.”
Dewey let out a dry chuckle and cocked his head toward Helmut. “When I saw that news clip of women tearing the clothes off Helmut, and then, when the bouncers pulled them off him, he leaned back and finished his Old Golden before he pulled on a tee shirt and left...I knew right then he was our man. That was an Old Golden moment.”
“I will try not to disappoint you, Mister Foreman,” Helmut spoke up.
“I’m sure you won’t, my boy.” Dewey clapped his hands on Helmut’s broad shoulders. “And call me Dewey.”
“Dewey,” Mel said. “I was a little concerned when I heard that you wanted Helmut to perform some dangerous stunts for your commercials.”
Dewey burst into laughter, his shoulders shaking with mirth. “Aw, ain’t that sweet, Helmut. The little lady’s afraid you might get hurt. Tell her that big guys like us don’t get hurt.”
Mel cringed when she saw Helmut grin at her. “No, you don’t understand. Helmut will not perform any of your stunts unless we both agree that it holds no potential danger to him.”
Gina pushed her glasses up on her nose and cleared her throat. “Yes, Dewey. There are other clients to consider. If Helmut were injured and had to take time off to recover, it would seriously harm their campaigns and damage his career, so you have to agree to use stunt doubles.” She gazed at him coolly until he grinned broadly. “Yes indeedy, little lady. I think we can work out something like that.”
Mel cleared her throat. “If you had a camera crew follow Helmut around the farm on a typical day, you’d have a year’s worth of footage of a real man at work.”
Dewey’s face contorted into a frown. “That ain’t a half bad idea.” His gaze narrowed as he stared down at Mel. “You’re the photographer, ain’t you? You’re the one that took all them billboard pictures?”
“That’s correct.”
Dewey nudged Helmut in the ribs. “And she’s the girlfriend you was talking about on Letterman last night?”
Helmut grinned at Mel, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “Mel is the only one.”
Gina gestured toward Mel. “And Mel is Helmut’s exclusive photographer. He made me write it in his contract, so all the magazine and billboards will be photographed my Mel.”
Dewey gave Helmut a wry look. “Sounds like love or something like it got a hold of you, boy.”
#
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Before leaving the Constanza agency, Helmut signed a contract agreeing to represent Old Golden beer. It stipulated that Mel would be the photographer to shoot all the still ad campaigns. He felt good about it. Dewey Foreman had been one of his heroes when he was in high school and he felt a little star-struck to “be on his team” as Dewey said. Dewey bade them farewell and left for the airport.
Gina congratulated Helmut and revealed that she’d received requests for Helmut’s appearance as a guest star on a number of late-night talk shows as well as a slew of daytime programs.
Helmut’s stomach fluttered at the thought of reenacting his performance of the previous night. He could still hear the audience laughter. Still remember feeling like an idiot when the host
asked some inane question to which he’d had no answer.
By eleven, he was standing at the train station saying goodbye to Mel once again.
“That’s your train.” She indicated one just pulling up to a stop.
“I will miss you.” He tried to keep his voice steady.
“Me too.” Mel bit her lower lip. “It’s not getting any easier, is it? This absence thing?”
“No,” he answered gruffly. “It is not getting any easier.”
Mel lifted her face to stare up into his eyes. “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”
He smiled. “Will it be a hit-and-run or a sleepover?”
Mel laughed. “I’m coming to shoot some location stills for Old Golden. Dewey liked the idea of me shooting an all-American male at work.” She caught his expression. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it a sleepover.”
He expelled a sigh. “Good. It has become difficult for me to go to sleep without you.”
Unexpectedly, tears sprang to her eyes. She nodded briskly and blinked them away. “Me too.”
The train came to a complete stop and people were getting on and off.
“I must go,” he said.
She caught her breath and nodded.
A sharp pain stabbed through him as he realized that this parting was as hard for her as it was for him. He kissed her forehead and forced a smile. “Do not be sad, liebchen. I will see you soon.”
“I know.”
“And remember that I love you.”
Her lips trembled. “I...I love you too.
A feeling of warmth spread through his chest. “I know.” He kissed her and stepped onto the train.
When he found a seat and looked out the window, he saw her staring forlornly in at him. She blew him a kiss and he pretended to catch it.
As the train pulled out of the station, his heart felt heavy. He was anxious to return to the farm but apprehensive about leaving Mel. She was right. It wasn’t getting any easier.
#
Two days later, Mel drove north to make the trek to Helmut’s farm. She rode with the top up on the Boxter as her vehicle was loaded with photography equipment. Her heart grew lighter with every mile.
In the back of her mind, she felt a claustrophobic sensation. She couldn’t blame Helmut. He was being most accommodating with their long-distance relationship. He came to The City often, though she knew he abhorred it. And he’d agreed to be involved in the photo shoots, but she knew he had only done so to be closer to her. The greatest sacrifice he’d made was in leaving his beloved farm to be near her.
She drew in a deep breath and let it out. He kept giving and she kept taking. Even when she made the trips to visit him, she shot photographs half the time, so she was growing her bank account while making a celebrity of Helmut. Celebrity he hadn’t sought and wasn’t comfortable with.
She slowed her Porsche and turned onto the road between the two fields leading to Helmut’s house. She noted the corn and sorghum had been harvested and the fields were now defined by rows of stalks and stubble. She observed the resident farmer toiling away in his fields.
Helmut maneuvered his tractor to plow the stalks under in the former corn field.
Mel opened the window of the Boxter and inhaled the rich earth smell. Helmut hadn’t noticed her arrival, so intent was he upon his task.
She parked on the road and reached for her camera, clicking the longest telephoto lens into the camera body. Taking a leap across the ditch, she landed at the end of a freshly turned furrow. Her sneakers sank in the soft, dark earth. She focused on Helmut atop the tractor, recalling their first meeting. Tears pooled in her eyes and she had to blink them away before she could gaze at him through her lens.
Such a beautiful man. She took a rapid succession of random shots, her lens loving him with every click of the shutter. Helmut deserved a woman who dreamed of living on a farm and sharing this exact life with such a good man.
This wasn’t Mel’s dream.
She sighed and lowered the camera. He would realize it someday soon, and then he would turn away from her. She moistened her lips and gazed through the lens again. In the meantime, I’m going to love him with every molecule of my being, so at least he’ll know my feelings are real.
When Helmut saw her, he waved and idled the motor of his tractor. Stepping off the machine, he tossed his big leather work gloves onto the wide seat and strode toward her at a brisk pace. “Hello Mel!”
Joy surged in her chest. She wished that she could be the woman who would spend forever with him in his paradise, but she knew she was not that woman.
He grabbed her and swung her around, kissing her over and over.
A flood of laughter congealed in her throat. It was impossible not to be happy in his presence, yet some all-pervasive sadness filled her, weighed heavy in her heart, made her feel like a pretender.
He drove the tractor back to the barn while Mel parked and set her bags on his porch. She was still reluctant to enter his home alone. The feeling of intruding on a shrine to the past lingered in the house.
When he stepped onto the porch and drew her inside the house, her discomfort evaporated.
The kitchen was shrouded in plastic.
She gaped at the closed off area. “Wow! What happened here?”
“Nothing. I am having some repair work done. That is all.”
Mel was glad that he’d earned some extra money if he needed to make repairs to his house. She imagined that it would be costly to find someone who could work with such a relic of a house.
She started to lift the tarp but Helmut grabbed her hand. “Komen zie to the barn. I will clean up there and take you to dinner in the town.”
She grinned at the mingling of German with English. “Okay, I’ll komen zie with you.”
He grinned sheepishly. “I am sorry, Mel.”
She took his hand. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Maybe someday you can teach me to say a few words in German.”
His grin widened. “I would be happy to teach you German.”
Mel swallowed. He had that forever look in his eyes again. “I mean, I might need to fly to Germany for a fashion shoot and it would be nice to have a few useful phrases tucked away.”
He made a scoffing noise deep in his throat. “When you fly to Germany, I will go with you. I will help you to get around.”
Mel tried to squelch the warmth that spread throughout her when he looked at her so intensely.
He cleaned up and changed in the barn before driving her to town for dinner at Greta’s.
Vangie greeted them each in turn and showed them to their usual seat.
Mel giggled as he herded her into the booth and slipped in beside her. He sat stroking her jeans-clad thigh as they perused the menus.
“Try the meatloaf,” a woman said. “It was very good.”
Mel looked up to meet the gaze of a woman as blonde as Helmut with a similar sunlit appearance.
Helmut appeared to be tongue-tied.
The woman extended her hand to Mel. “Hello. I’m Sunny Van Ness. I farm a piece of property that adjoins Helmut’s place.”
Mel clasped Sunny’s hand, feeling calluses as rough as Helmut’s. “I’m Mel Hannigan.”
Sunny’s blue eyes stared intently. Mel felt herself being assessed. She thought this woman found her lacking somehow.
Helmut regained his voice, gesturing to the seat across from them. “Will you join us, Sunny?”
She glanced over her shoulder to a group of elderly men. “For a moment. It appears that my dad is talking to his old cronies.” She slid onto the plastic seat opposite the one where Mel sat trapped by Helmut.
“So, how was your harvest, Helmut?” She addressed him but hadn’t taken her eyes off Mel.
“It was good. And yours?”
“Fine. I saw you on Letterman and in Cosmo with a bunch of teen-age models.” Without batting a lash, Sunny pounced on Mel, or so it seemed. “Mel, you have made our Helmut into an international sex symb
ol.”
Mel felt a constriction around her chest. She struggled to appear calm. “I only shot the pictures.” She flashed a smile at Helmut. “He made himself into an international sex symbol.”
Helmut grinned, but he blushed as well. He wrapped a protective arm around Mel’s shoulder. “Mel is very good with her camera.”
Mel glanced back at Sunny and noted her expression. She was glaring at Helmut’s hand gripping Mel’s shoulder. It came as a shock to Mel when she recognized raw jealousy on the other woman’s face. Oh, my God! She’s in love with him too.
#
She had gone again. When Mel was with him, it seemed that time flew by, but when she was gone, time stood still.
In a few days he was to meet her at the airport and fly to Mexico, his first time out of the country. He’d never been on a plane before, but Mel assured him they would be safer than driving.
He’d heard tales of people becoming violently ill after eating raw food or drinking the water in Mexico. He didn’t think he could go for a week without eating. Mel told him that they would drink bottled water and that she wouldn’t let him eat anything that might sicken him. He sighed. It was good that she was willing to take care of him.
The only time he had been away from the farm for a significant time was when he’d packed up his truck and gone to college.
Now, he was to climb on board a jet and leave the country. At least he would have two whole days alone with Mel before Alain St. Croix and all the other crazy people descended on them. Mel described it as two days and nights in paradise. That sounded very romantic.
But he was worried. Worried about the farm and the animals. He worried that the two high school boys might encounter a problem and not have the expertise to handle it. The local FFA teacher was on hand to advise them, but still...What if one of the cows got sick? What if the boys didn’t sterilize the milking equipment correctly? What if they didn’t maintain the milk temperature?
Helmut’s mind raced with all the horrific possibilities until he was willing to do the unthinkable: he called on Sunny Van Ness for help.
He was sitting on the porch stroking the dog’s head when he saw her turn off the road into his drive. He stood and went to meet her.