Honey Red

by Liz Crowe

  She put her hand to his cheek, brushed his hair off his forehead. “I’m glad you didn’t die, Nicholas,” she said, pressing her lips to his, tracing their outline with her tongue. “So very glad,” she shed the robe she’d been wearing and straddled him. Her need to comfort, to fix, to make him smile again nearly overpowered her.

  “I’m not so sure,” he said as he settled his hands on her waist his face still pensive, distracted. “I held him. Heard his last words. It was the worst thing…ever….” He hesitated. “Although this has been pretty amazing, and not something I ever thought I’d want. Now, somehow, I feel guilty; like I shouldn’t be allowed anything this…wonderful, ever again.”

  “I know what I want,” she whispered in his ear, never more sure of anything in her life.

  Nick held onto her, his head still pounding with the residual nightmare and the confession session. He smelled her arousal, sweet, heavy, sexy, just like he had first identified it—like thick honey but with an undercurrent of something new, something that made his libido roar and his heart pound with need. She kissed him, traced his lips with her tongue, whispered to him. And he tried very hard to dispel the images of Dan from his head.

  “It’s like, if you’re going to be blind, it’s better you start out that way. So there’s no memory of sight.” She held him close as he spoke, her breasts against him, her warm welcoming sex on his as he kept talking. “I remember Ian. I saw him. But I never got to see you. And I hate that.”

  “Here,” she put his hands on her breasts then moved them up her arms, tangled them in her hair. “You can see me this way. I want you too, so much,” she sighed into his skin, making him shiver.

  He gripped her hard. “Hannah,” he pressed his face to her neck, sucking in huge breaths of her amazing scent.

  “Shh,” she said, shifting slightly against his now painfully hard cock. “It’s okay.”

  His hands roamed all over her, his lips slid down her neck, nestled into her breasts as he gripped her ass. “God, I need to be inside you. Is it…okay?”

  Hannah smiled into his hair. Ian had been so insistent on the condom thing. He was crazed about it, but Nick had been stubborn. He liked to feel Hannah without the latex. So they’d had physicals and tests, proven their health and Hannah had gotten a diaphragm because the Pill gave her migraines. At that moment, something in him reared up with a need so powerful it terrified and compelled him all at once. It was beyond a compulsion for release. It was more elemental than that. She wrapped her arms around his neck, found his lips.

  “It’s fine,” she said, angling her hips and allowing him to penetrate her, stretch her, forcing a moan of pleasure from her lips. “Yes,” she hissed, grinding down on him. “Please. Nick, I need you.”

  “Hannah, Jesus,” he sighed, thrusting high, gripping her hips and seeking her lips. “We can’t.”

  Nick was on fire. This whole thing was insane. She made him mad with lust, made him want to fuck her into oblivion then hold her all night long. A woman—who would have guessed? She rolled her hips, gripped him hard, clutched his face and kissed him again. He got lost in her, her scent, her flesh, and something gut deep and primal pulled at him. He stood, sweeping anything that might be in the way on the table to the floor and dropped her onto it. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he dove into her with his cock, into her mouth with his tongue. He was not just blind, he was deaf and dumb to everything but her.

  “Nick!” she cried out, arching up. He caught her nipple in his mouth, sucked hard and went with her over the orgasmic edge. They cried out, he went up on his toes and pounded into her, filling her, as she clutched at him, her body seeming to hold him even deeper than usual. His entire self connected with hers, the act taking on purpose with pleasure.

  They kissed, calmed, and he pulled her up. “Wow,” he sighed, edging towards the blessed rest he always got post orgasm. “Take me to bed you minx before I fall asleep on the kitchen floor.”

  He heard her then, the hitch in her breath, the distinct sob she was holding back to prove how tough she was. He put his palm against her face. “I love what you’ve done to me, for me, and with me.”

  She nodded, her tears wetting his fingers.

  “Jesus, you two,” Ian’s scratchy voice behind them made him jump. “Nice show. Thanks. Now, let’s get some fucking sleep, okay?”

  Ian took his hand and pulled him to the bed. He slept, finally, dreamless for hours.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The next morning Ian rolled over, draped his arm over Nick’s hip and sighed as his brain prodded him awake at the usual ungodly hour of five a.m. He kissed the man’s neck, sat up and saw Hannah curled into Nick’s other side. He smiled, wondering how in the hell he got this lucky. Even when he caught them fucking on the kitchen table last night all he got was a warm, tingly feeling instead of any kind of possessive jealousy that might seem more obvious. He stretched, and sat, thinking through the day. He needed to get Jamie from Gavin and Alyssa’s and he had promised to take all the kids to a movie tonight—trading out for keeping his son last night. A worthwhile swap, he mused, as he stood and stared at Nick’s bare torso, rising and falling in a calm sleep. Besides, now that Gavin’s boys had received and accepted the presence of Alyssa in their lives they were much calmer, less demanding and more fun to be around.

  He jumped in the shower and let the pounding hot water bring him more fully awake as he mentally flipped through his to-do list. He needed to check in at the brewery on some of the projects they had going for judging at this year’s National Beer Fest in Colorado. He felt like they had a lock on a couple of categories but his natural inclination was to baby the brews along, checking on them day and night. He toweled off, threw on some fresh clothes and wandered into the kitchen, shaking his head at the mess Hannah and Nick had made when they decided to screw around on the table.

  He cleaned up the floor, and rooted through Nick’s pantry for ingredients to make pancakes. After assembling everything in a big bowl, he set the griddle on high and sipped some coffee. He loved the quiet order of a morning kitchen. His mother had imposed that on him, with her insistence on a sit-down breakfast every day of his life until he left for college. He and Gavin had never had the same one twice in a row, between fresh blueberry pancakes, omelets, homemade biscuits, muffins, the works. “Start the day right,” she’d say, kissing their father good bye at the door. When the day arrived that the man did not come home from his job at the insurance company, disappearing with the secretary and about ten thousand of the company dollars, Moira had set her lips in a thin line and coped, like she always did and always with a belly full of breakfast.

  “Smells good in here,” Hannah leaned in the doorway, hair all over the place, wrapped in her soft robe. He pointed to the coffee maker.

  “Yeah, help yourself. These will be ready soon.”

  She poured a cup, set it down and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. Ian felt his heart pound a little faster. “Just sex.” That was the arrangement and he, for one, had originally hoped to keep it that way. Although in the last week or so, the simple domesticity of their time together had felt even more comfortable. He would not admit it to anyone, but if there were a way to wake up every day like this, together, as three, he wouldn’t reject it.

  Utterly impossible, Donovan. Get a grip. What the hell do you tell your son? “Hey, uh, Jamie, here’s your new mom…and Uncle Nick sleeps in dad’s bed, too. Okay?”

  He shook his head.

  “What’s wrong?” Hannah muttered into his neck.

  “Nothing,” he set the bowl down and turned, taking her in his arms. “You feel great,” he said, kissing her neck.

  “Why, yes, thank you as a matter of fact I do feel great.” She stretched her arms up, and Ian made a grab for her exposed breast. “But…” she backed away, retying the robe. “You okay with…you know, last night? I don’t want there to be weirdness. You know? Jealous bullshit?”

  “As long as we
are all together, I don’t care who does what to whom.” He flipped the pancakes over, let them finish then slid them onto a plate.

  Hannah grabbed one and bit into it. “Together? What do you mean? We are together, right?”

  “I mean, together, literally. Like last night. It doesn’t feel like sneaking around and, as far as I’m concerned, it’s not. But if you feel a need to have him fuck you or whatever, and I’m not around, I may have an issue with that.”

  “Fair. And same goes for you.”

  “Fair.” He got out butter, syrup, and honey. “And we stick with the birth control plan, right?” he stared at her. Her gaze flitted away just enough to worry him. “I am dead serious about this Hannah. I’m glad we got the diaphragm thing sorted out for you. That takes a lot off my mind.”

  “I know. It’s fine.” She poured a cup of coffee for Nick who’d just wandered into the room rubbing his face. Brutus led him to a seat, then made for his food bowl after stopping to let Hannah rub his ears. She set a cup down in front of Nick and let him pull her into his lap.

  “You know what,” Nick muttered into her neck as he trailed a hand up her thigh. “You need to make a beer that tastes like this.” His hand went higher, disappearing under her robe.

  Ian laughed and brought the plate of food to the table. “Dude, if I could make a beer that tasted like pussy I would be a zillionaire by now.” He put a plate in front of Nick and started eating. He was starved and watching the two of them cuddle was making him horny again.

  “No, numb nuts. Like her—like, honey, and red colored, since you call her that, and maybe a little bitter.”

  Hannah laughed and took her own seat, grabbing several pancakes for herself. “Bitter? Me? Nice.”

  “Hmm. … you know,” Ian mumbled around a mouthful of food. “I don’t think a honey flavored common has ever been done.”

  “No,” Hannah said, pouring half the bottle of syrup over her stack. “But how much honey would it take to really affect that kind of a brew?”

  “I’m gonna look into it.” Ian declared. “I like it.”

  “Honey red,” Nick said, as he ate. “For Hannah.”

  Ian laughed and grabbed Nick’s hand, putting it to his lips. “No, for us. Like Hannah.”

  She smacked his shoulder but smiled. And Ian got that weird, extra thump-thump in his chest when he looked at her, then at Nick.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Nick woke with a jerk, reaching up to wipe his eyes attempting to dispel the blackness that would never be dispelled. The phone was clanging Alyssa’s ring tone. He reached for it, then remembered he was not at his house. Hannah stirred on his left. Ian sat up on his right, grabbed the thing and handed it to him.

  “We’re headed to the hospital.” Gavin barked in his ear. “Something’s wrong. My mom’s here with the other boys.”

  “Okay, we’re on our way.”

  Hannah crawled out of bed, and he heard the shower start up.

  “No time,” Nick barked, finding his jeans where he’d left them on the floor. They’d practically ripped each other’s clothes off, the almost six weeks between encounters too long for them all. But real life as a threesome had its challenges along with rewards and their schedules simply had not meshed along with Ian’s need to have Jamie out of the house when they stayed over. Alyssa had seemed okay the day before when he and Ian had dropped the boy off at his cousins’ new place. She’d done her usual grumbling about being as big as two houses and cursing the Donovan twin gene for her misery. A thrill of fear shot down his spine.

  “I’m not going,” Hannah called out.

  “The hell you aren’t,” Ian yelled as he jumped around trying to get his shoes on. “Let’s go.”

  Nick sat, tried to get his bearings. Gavin’s words rolled around in his head. “C’mon man,” Ian dragged him up. “Time to go meet our nephews.”

  “It’s too early. Her C-section isn’t scheduled for another three weeks.”

  He felt Hannah’s hand on his shoulder. He gripped it like a lifeline, panic making his chest tighten. Brutus bumped his leg. “Yeah, boy, that’s right. Let’s go already!” Ian declared.

  The ride to the hospital was longer than he thought possible. Thoughts of his sister rolled through his brain. She put on a huge show of being a super strong wonder woman but he knew deep down she was one hundred percent terrified by this whole radical turn of events in her life. He put his face against the cool car window. Hannah touched his shoulder. Ian grabbed his hand.

  “It will be fine…I’m sure.” He nodded and ignored them. He still couldn’t believe his sister was having twins. Boys, fraternal like their father and uncle. Which explained the odd double heartbeat sounds he’d been getting not long after the wedding. While it was annoying beyond belief sometimes, hearing everything that no one else did, it came in handy at times. He’d touched her stomach that day, leaned in, and told her to have the doctor check for a second heartbeat. She’d laughed him off for about a minute, then called her doctor’s office and told them she was coming in right away.

  He jumped out with his dog when he felt the car come to a halt, and made his frustrating slow way through the “where the hell is my sister” process. Finally he sensed Hannah by his side, talking calmly to the annoying staff. He followed her, the horrific and overwhelming smells of a busy hospital making him want to gag and run for the exit door. He gripped Hannah’s hand and let her guide him.

  Finally, after an interminable elevator ride, they emerged onto a quieter floor. A different set of sensations hit his nose and ears. He gulped, held onto Brutus’ lead. Ian joined them, and they sat and waited. “What the hell is taking so long?” The man stood and paced, but Hannah stayed seated and quiet by his side.

  “Gavin!” he heard Ian from what sounded like the end of a tunnel. He clenched his jaw. “Oh, God, man somebody throw the waiting room a bone, here.”

  The silence that met his ears had Nick on his feet, stumbling towards Ian’s voice. “What is it? Ian?…” He felt Ian’s hand on his shoulder.

  “She’s fine, Nick. C’mon, I’ll take you to her,” Gavin’s voice sounded raw.

  Nick jerked out from under Ian’s hand. “Don’t hide anything from me damn you. What’s really going on?”

  He heard it. Gavin’s heart—stuttering, then pounding. He lunged towards the man, using his base instincts to find him, grabbing at his throat in desperation, thinking to drag the words out of him. Ian yanked him back. “Relax,” he whispered, running a hand down Nick’s arm. “It’s fine.”

  “Someone better talk to me.” He stood, fists clenched, in his eternal fucking darkness, needing them to stop hiding shit from him. Hannah slid under his arm.

  “Gavin, Ian, tell him.”

  He heard both men blow out an identical breath. He gripped Hannah into his side, her presence easing him somewhat.

  “Okay, so, Alyssa had been having headaches for about a day or two but we figured it was just stress or boredom, or something.” Gavin began.

  “Why didn’t she say anything when we….”

  Hannah leaned into him. “Shh, let him finish,” her lips grazed his jaw. He nodded.

  “Uh, yeah, so…she was up tonight, couldn’t sleep, as usual. I sat with her a while, then fell asleep on the couch. And, uh, shit,” Nick heard the man’s voice break. “I woke up at three, sat up, realizing she hadn’t come back into the family room. I assure you,” he cleared his throat and Nick realized he was either crying or on the verge of it. “The sight of my wife lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood is not something that will exit my consciousness anytime soon. I gotta go, I need to see the boys. Fill them in on the rest.”

  Nick sensed him leave and turned to Ian. “The boys,” he said, breathless. “They’re okay?”

  Hannah sat and watched the drama unfold between the men. She bit her lip, tried to keep the rubbery, plastic, gross hospital smells from making her puke. She wanted to keep standing between Gavin and Ian as they hear
d what was happening, but something made her walk away. She shivered in the super cooled obstetrics wing.

  Hospitals were her least favorite place on the planet. And this whole thing with Alyssa and her kids was making her antsy. She wanted to leave, needed to stay. She stood, hands clenched together, and let the memories of the past few months wash over her.

  Finally she put a hand on Ian’s arm. “I need to go. Do you want me to pick Jamie up and take him home or leave him with your mom and Tracey at Gavin’s?”

  Ian glanced up at her, his green eyes snapping. He put his arm around her, which soothed her, but also made her want to run away screaming. “Sorry,” he said. “Stay. We’re gonna see the boys.”

  “No, no,” she backed away, trying to keep from covering her mouth and running to the bathroom. Terror washed through her. The kitchen moment with Nick flooded her brain. She had not had her diaphragm, had taken it out after their three way before going to sleep. Holy fucking shit. “I’ve gotta go.”

  Nick pulled his sunglasses off and rubbed his eyes, talking as if he hadn’t heard her. She noted that his hands were shaking. “The boys are okay.“ he said. “Tyler is in the neonatal intensive care, but Lucas isn’t. They think Tyler will be fine in about forty-eight hours. He was smaller, his lungs were…not ready or whatever.”