by Liz Crowe
“Shh, my love.” He nipped at her earlobe. Staying propped against the wall, he ran the other hand down her back and cupped her ass. She sighed and repressed self-conscious thoughts about the extra padding on her body. After the disastrous breakup, she’d gone into a spiral of grief, and the twenty pounds she’d added to her frame refused to budge.
“You are perfect. Exactly as a woman should be. I have wanted to…” He stopped, made a low hum in his throat. His mouth found the dip between her collar bones and he cradled the swell of her breast. “I have wanted to do this since the last time we were together with Dustin.” The soft German accent ramped up her libido. “And I’m not waiting any longer.”
She shifted, allowing the thigh he shoved between her legs. He dove into her mouth once again, his hands all over her ass, back, breasts. Her nipples ached, needing contact. Her clit pulsed against his leg.
He yanked her tee shirt out of her jeans, shoved it up and pulled her bra aside. Lowering his lips to one rock-hard nub of flesh, he sighed.
She threaded fingers in his hair, tugging it free of the leather tie and relishing the silky strands between her eager fingers. “Harder,” she ground out. “Please, Erik.” She couldn’t believe the words coming from her mouth, but she let them flow. “I need it. I want you to, ah, Jesus!” In one smooth motion he had her jeans popped open and a large hand plunged into her panties. The rich smell of her arousal enveloped them. It had been so long, she honestly believed she would never feel this way again. But it all came rushing back in a whirl of erotic recollection.
She cupped the impressive bulge in his jeans, the memory of what lay underneath the denim taking her breath away.
“No,” he growled against her breast, and pinned both her wrists over her head. He sucked her nipple so hard it brought more tears to her eyes and moisture between her legs. “I’m touching now. You must wait.” She angled her hips, eager to get him deeper. “Oh, woman, I want to taste you.”
He groaned and fingered her clit with his thumb and plunged two fingers inside. Capturing her mouth once more, swallowing her groans, he slid his fingers in and out of her, all the while grinding his cock against her leg. She gripped his arm.
“Yes.” She spread her legs, needing more. “Oh my God, yes.”
He tightened his hold on her wrists and sunk his fingers in deep. Her body flushed, the hallway closed in on her and the orgasm bowled her over her so hard she cried out, heard his name escape her lips. Loudly.
Wave after wave of ecstasy drowned her senses, shutting off all noise, all vision. It had been so long since any man had touched her, she’d even given up trying to pleasure herself. It seemed like too much effort for so little gain. Erik had offered her the most erotic moment of her life a few short years ago. But she had cut him off. Like she had Dustin. A tiny flame of regret blazed in her soul. She’d been so quick to judge. So eager to think the worst of the man she had loved.
“I have missed the sound of your voice so much.” His lips hovered just out of reach. He nuzzled her neck, released her wrists so she could hold him. “I want to hear my name again, and again. Dear God, I have missed you, Helena. Everything about you.” Grasping the back of her neck with his free hand, he slanted his mouth over hers once more. The kiss spoke of neediness and she sensed the last of her defenses slip away.
Her body zinged with a sexual energy she hadn’t felt in way too long. Face stinging from so much contact with his beard, knees on the verge of collapse, she stared up at the ceiling. As if sensing her need for space, he pulled his fingers out of her body and sucked them into his mouth, eyes closed with reverence, then owned her mouth with his again, giving her a taste of her own juices. She plunged her hands into his long hair once more. He broke the kiss, gazed into her soul.
“I need you,” she whispered. He smiled—a lazy, sexy thing that made her nerves do another erotic tap dance. She mentally smacked herself. Why would she say that? Other than the fact it was true.
Keeping his gaze on hers, he zipped up her jeans, tucked her brewery T-shirt back in the waistband and cupped her ass, grinding his cock against her body. She leaned in and bit down on the skin of his neck, tasting his sweat. His hips thrust against her. She smiled. “Now. If not sooner.”
“I am yours. But later. As you said, we should get back. And we still need to talk. About Dustin.” His hands’ slow journey from her ass, to hip, to waist, breast and then her face made her tremble in anticipation. Damn, if she wasn’t ready to drop trou and jump him right here in the hallway. His mention of Dustin’s name did nothing to quell her desire. His next moves didn’t help.
“I want you to think about this.” He nipped her neck. “And this.” He ran a thumb across her stiff nipple. “And this.” He put her palm against his straining zipper. “Because—”
“Erik! You down there?” a deep voice echoed down the hall.
Helena jumped, jerked away from him, logic flooding her brain. Erik didn’t move, kept his incredible blue eyes on hers.
“Ja, who wants to know?” He put a palm against her flushed cheek. She shook her head to clear it. This man was her colleague now, for God’s sake. She nearly wept with embarrassment.
Erik’s gaze darkened. “What the fuck do you want?” he shouted at the disembodied voice.
Unmistakably male footsteps echoed down the hall. He sighed and stepped back from her, adjusted the bulge under his zipper and grabbed the trophy where he’d dumped it before kissing her. She tucked her shirt back in and fled, face burning with embarrassment.
*
Erik watched her go, jaw clenched at the deep ache in his gut. He didn’t like holding off, delaying his own satisfaction, and his balls declared their unhappiness loud and clear. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The weekend they’d shared haunted him for years, especially when she had seemingly cut off their friendship after the disaster with Dustin. But something about her that made him protective and horny all at once had flared today, forcing him to act.
His chest tightened at the sudden rush of memories associated with Dustin’s full lips, his strong, lithe body. Memories Erik had shut away, locked in a safe place, never to be resurrected.
Chapter Nineteen
“No, no, really, guys. I’m exhausted.” Helena motioned for the check. Her head swam with gin and remorse. She’d allowed herself to be corralled into a little after party once the day’s beer expo work was done and the last drunken beer taster had been ejected from the convention center. “I’m calling it.”
Amid congratulations and promises of rain checks, she made her slow way down the narrow steps to the surprisingly luxurious restrooms.
She liked staying at the Oxford when in Denver, more out of tradition than anything else. A little shabby, but cool as hell, it had the best martini bar in the city. And she didn’t risk reminders of Dustin too much since he always preferred the downtown Marriot with its huge suites. She glared in the wall-sized mirror over the sink. Five-foot-eight, former happy girlfriend of the most amazing man in the world, now twenty pounds overweight, with a desperation in her eyes that made her ill. She hated the image of herself lately.
The echo of Erik’s rough, German-accented voice made a blush rise from her cheeks. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
What a colossal mistake. How could she have done that? Dustin’s face danced across her vision. She’d nearly gotten past the throat-choking agony that usually brought. But it all fell in on her again. That amazing moment with Erik back at the convention center had somehow brought back Dustin’s memory as bright and sharp as a razor’s edge. Biting back more tears, she looked down, trying to regain her composure, hoping she could hold it together for the rest of the festival.
When a large hand dropped onto her shoulder, she started and turned around. Erik stared at her for a split second, then pulled her to him, crushing her against the hard warmth of his chest, silencing her with a tongue-tangling kiss before she could speak.
She let go of the final ves
tige of propriety, the last little bit of logic, and wrapped her entire body around the huge, gorgeous man who’d apparently followed her there with one thing on his mind.
Shoving away her inner protests, she reached down to release his cock, humming in her throat at the familiar feel of its velvety-skinned steel in her hand. She wiped her thumb across the pearling moisture at the tip. He gasped with pleasure, pushed her back against the wall and had her jeans down and off within seconds. All thoughts of her failed relationship faded. Her focus now zeroed in on the man she’d had once as lover and for so long as a friend.
“God, Erik.” She gasped as he shoved up her shirt, lowered his lips to her nipples, tugging at them, ripping her scrap of lace panties into two pieces.
“Ja, my darling, my Helena,” he muttered into her flesh. She reveled in the tumble of blond hair between her fingers. He started speaking softly in German. She leaned her head against the wall, her emotions tangled with chaos, but her body locked in on a single goal, namely satisfaction and renewed connection.
“Wait, do you have…” Damn, she was out of practice.
Erik raised his face from her breasts, a packet in one hand. He ripped it open with his teeth and handed the small latex circle to her. She shoved his shirt up, dying to get at his flesh. He braced himself against the wall, sighing with pleasure while she licked her way down his pecs. She flicked at a nipple with her tongue then made her way down and sucked the head of his thick cock into her mouth, reveling in the salty deliciousness of him. His hips thrust forward.
He wound his hands in her hair. On her knees, she licked down the length of him, cradled his heavy balls in one hand.
“Ach. Stop, you are going to—” He yanked her to her feet. “Put that thing on me.” His eyes twinkled and he lowered his amazing lips to hers while she rolled the condom down his length.
She sighed as he lifted her up with the strength of his body, forcing her legs around his waist and held on, slipping inside her one incredible inch at a time.
“Hold on, my lovely,” he muttered into her hair, his voice husky and low. “You feel just like I remember.” He hummed and pressed deeper, retreated, before burying himself in her, reaching up high and grinding his pubic bone against her clit.
The hard wall against her back, Erik holding them up, the sensation of his body in and out of hers all combined to bring her to the brink of orgasm in a heartbeat. She could hear him again, Dustin, crooning to her, encouraging her to release her fantasies to him that weekend. This amazing man, inside her, had meant so much that she’d denied for so long after their encounter.
He moved faster, pinning her once again with his intense blue stare. She let him fuck her, their breathing labored, the musky scent of their shared desire winding around them. His hips rocked against her, bringing stars across her vision.
“Dear God,” he breathed into her neck. “Come, my darling. I can feel it.” He shoved harder, going deeper than ever, grunting with the effort. She held on, letting him take her, in public, against the wall like some kind of horny teenager, unable to find anywhere else to fuck but in the bathroom.
“Oh! Yes!” The orgasm scorched up from the soles of her feet, enveloping her, blurring her vision. She locked onto his lips, needing that connection. His tongue swept into her mouth. His hips took on a harder, faster rhythm. He kept kissing her, moaning into her mouth, his whole body shaking with energy as he came.
“Ach, mein Gott!” He grunted and broke their kiss, shuddering, eyes closed.
When she put first one, then the other leg down, her knees gave out. He grabbed her before she hit the floor, pulling her close for a deep kiss. Holding back tears as intense memory washed over her, she trembled, overcome with emotion she couldn’t even identify. His scent—all man, with an undercurrent of ever-present malt and hops and yeast—made her wobbly, brought everything she’d missed about Dustin roaring back, along with her long-suppressed desire to be right there again, in Erik’s arms.
Shaking her head, unwilling to meet his eyes, she tugged her clothes back into place. She started to speak, to protest, to apologize. He lifted her face up to his.
“You are perfect.” The same words he’d spoken to her after the first time they’d made love. He kissed her with a tenderness and longing that spoke of something more than the moment they’d just shared. Her heart beat faster. He zipped up and put an arm around her shoulders.
“I’m far from that, trust me.” She ducked away, her face hot with embarrassment. Surely the man was drunk or something. What could he possibly see in her? “I’ll, ah, see you around, okay?”
He looked puzzled, touched her face. She refused to lean into it.
What did he think? They’d toddle out of there together, and to his or her hotel room? Her whole body reacted to that lovely possibility.
Opening the door without a backward look, she ran out and up the stairs, her heart thudding in her chest, the pulse between her legs nearly as loud. She’d let a man fuck her standing up in the women’s room. Not just any man either. The magnitude of what she had done with him washed over her like a tidal wave.
She shoved the old-fashioned key in the lock and slammed the door behind her. “Shower. I need a shower.” She turned the handle to the hottest possible angle and crawled under the spray, shivering and berating herself nonstop. She let shampoo pour over her body, trying to scrub away the embarrassment, the delicious scent of Erik, the abject mortification at her behavior.
How the hell can I face him now? Bracing herself against the black and white tile, her tears mingled with the shower water. “Oh God, what have I done?”
“You’ve done nothing a healthy, beautiful woman wouldn’t do.” The soft voice made her scream and clutch the shower curtain around her naked self. Erik’s blue eyes gleamed. His grin stood out stark white against the red of his beard. “If she’s been pulled into a hallway and practically attacked.” He stood, arms crossed, watching her. She frowned at him as fury replaced fear.
“Get the hell out of here, Erik. Seriously. How did you—” He held up a key and stayed put. She clutched the shower curtain tighter, resisting her body’s purely chemical reaction to his presence. “Well, it won’t happen again, I assure you.” She flipped the water off and started to step out, reaching for a towel. She kept her eyes averted.
His voice stayed low. “I’m sorry. Truly. Sometimes I don’t think with the correct brain. Do you know what I mean?” She snorted. “But we had something once. Something I want to talk about with you.”
“Whatever. Get out. You had your fun.” She shouldered past him. She had no time for this. Wouldn’t allow it to happen. When he touched her bare, damp shoulder, she closed her eyes. “Get out.” She moved farther into the room, anything to get away from him before she did something utterly stupid. Like throw him down on the bed that dominated the small room like an omen and climb all over him.
He pulled a bottle from behind his back. She eyed one of her absolute favorite Imperial IPAs. The bastard. He grinned, cracked it open and poured some into a glass, holding it under his nose. “Mmm. Smells nice. Sure I can’t stay?”
She had to turn away so he wouldn’t see her smiling. The presumptuous asshole. “Yes, I’m sure. Erik. We can’t.” She sat heavily in a chair. He whistled and poured another glass, handing it to her. She took it, let the amazing, perfectly balanced hops and malt concoction ease her throat, allowed the alcohol warm her from head to toe. She glared at the tall blond man taking up so much sexual energy in the room, who now sat casually propped up against the headboard.
He sipped his beer and stayed silent. Fine. Two could play at that game. She let the unspoken words spin out between them, taking on a life of their own after about five minutes. Strangely enough, the silence seemed comfortable. “Dustin would have filled the room with mindless chatter just now.” She cocked her head and observed Erik. “I miss him so much.”
He looked at his empty glass. “Rumor has it he misses you too.”
/> “Whatever.” She suddenly needed to be alone. No matter the extreme temptation of the man lying on her bed. “He has his wife to keep him company.”
“Not going well, that.” Erik sat on the edge of the bed and reached over for her to refill his glass. “Rumor has it.”
“Not my problem.” She shifted in her seat, as exhaustion stole over her again. “I’m tired. Get out of my room.”
Suddenly, he stood, unzipped his jeans, stepped out of them, pulled his shirt over his head and looked at her, in all his lip-smacking glory. “I came to talk. And we will talk, but first I need to finish what we started.”
She turned away. She wouldn’t be manipulated by him. “Erik, this is completely inappropriate, no matter what we think we want. This is not what we—”
Before she could finish, he had her on her feet, her towel still between them, mouth slanted over hers until she was lightheaded with the force of his kiss. Oh God. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hooked a leg around his waist, pulled them both down on the bed. Their teeth clicked together, tongues tangled with urgency. He ripped the towel from between them. She tried not to whimper when he broke their kiss.
He loomed over her, that lovely, long shaft warm against her body. “I said earlier I wanted to taste you.”
She nodded, speechless.
He licked his slow way down, paying careful attention to each peaking nipple, aware on some level that her attempt to have an actual discussion he’d effectively sidetracked, but unwilling to stop him now. He had released his long hair, and she threaded her fingers through it, moaning.
“Mmm.” His throaty growl made her skin pebble. He dipped his tongue into her navel, nuzzled the sparse bit of blonde that covered her mound, then crouched between her legs, focusing on her sex.
She shifted. “What? Is there a problem down there?” In her early, utterly numb years without Dustin, she’d not only put on twenty extra pounds, she’d let other things go, too. The Brazilian wax she’d gotten before heading to the festival made her nervous, worried it looked funny. Plus, she was about to orgasm under his gaze, he had her built up so.