Paradise Hops

by Crowe, Liz

  “Yes. You do.” She reached out to touch him but he stepped back. “Jesus, Garrett, I won’t bite.”

  “I know that, but I don’t want you to touch me. Not now. Not ever.”

  “But….” This was not going the way she’d imagined. Somehow she figured she’d rush in here, cry and claim her love, and he’d swoop her up, and they’d ride off into the sunset. That was looking more and more like a stupid fantasy now.

  “Say whatever it is you have to say.” He crossed his arms, keeping the chair between them.

  “Um, okay.” She ran a shaking hand through her hair. “I mean, I love you. Didn’t you hear me? I’m sorry. I…I don’t know….”

  “The phrase too little too late springs to mind.” His eyes darkened. She opened her mouth with a retort but he held up a hand. “No, you listen to me a minute. It’s not really news to me that you think you love me. But, the more I think about it, the more I realize it’s not me perhaps. It’s what I represent for you. I freed you from yourself, from the anger and fear and whatever, and I’m happy to have done it, but even after that you still don’t trust me. You can’t even confide in me the way you do…. Oh, fuck it, never mind.” He grabbed his keys and started to stalk towards the office door.

  She made a last ditch attempt. “I don’t love him.”

  He slowly turned, appraised her from head to toe, his eyes flat and scary. “You know, the really sick part about this conversation is that we both know who ‘he’ is. And the fact that you don’t even have to say his name tells me all I need to know. Go. Get him out of your system,. But don’t dare think for a second that I’m waiting around to pick up the pieces when you’re done. Goodbye, Lori. Good luck in Germany.” She had a brief look at his face—the one she’d truly come to love, and the agony on it made her gut clench so hard she nearly threw up. She’d done this to him. This unforgiveable thing. And he was right.

  She ran from his office, and burst out into the parking lot, letting a sudden downpour drench her, eyes aching with unshed tears.

  She was nearly soaked all the way through by the time she made her way back to the brewery, but didn’t care. She’d gone home, cried until her head ached. Then grabbed the acceptance letter and headed back, knowing full well Eli would still be there, probably showering after a long day of work. She clutched the paper in one hand, fumbled with her keys, dropping them at least once into a cold puddle at her feet. “Shit! Fucking…just…shit!” She scrambled around, finally getting the door open. Warm, malty air enveloped her, calming her nerves. The heavy door slammed shut. She put her aching forehead against its cool metal surface.

  The sounds and smells of her family’s brewery pressed against all her senses. She took a deep breath, tried to calm her heartbeat. The dark room didn’t faze her as she navigated it from memory, running her hand along the cool stainless steel of the fermentation vessels. The burble of active yeast, the hiss and pop of air compressors soothed her, gave her strength.

  It rose in her brain unbidden. The tattoo. Eli’s shoulder, covered in an elaborate, beautiful tapestry of hop vines, peeking over the front, but running down the strong planes of his back, begging for her fingertips. She itched to touch it. She ran her tongue over her upper lip, already tasting the perfection of his skin.

  “Get him out of your system.” Garrett’s harsh words rang in her head. The death knell for the relationship he’d worked so hard for, perhaps. But it compelled her now.

  You are a selfish child Lori Brockton. If you really think you can get one guy out of your system and then simply turn back to your orderly life with another.

  But she made her way to the back of the cavernous brewery production floor, marveling at how the past twelve months had radically altered her life and how going forward she planned to master her own destiny, not letting her well-intentioned and overprotective father make decisions that would affect the rest of her life. Hell, she’d rebuffed a proposal from probably The Most Perfect Man in the Universe after cheating on him in her heart and with her body with likely the most imperfect asshole in the universe.

  The voice, familiar and insistent, forced her heart into her throat. Garrett saved you from yourself. You hurt, and he healed you. The memory of the look in his eyes when he’d demanded to know if Eli was coming with her to Germany almost brought her to her knees. Then again the sight of him walking out on her today, his words the final nail in the coffin of their relationship made her reach out to steady herself. Her teeth chattered as she gripped the nearest tank, tried to keep from collapsing from stress and terror at what she had done—at what she was prepared to now do.

  A perky whistle brought her back to the present to the moment where she would have him at last–-Eli, the man her body wanted but her heart rejected. She swallowed hard and kept her feet moving, pushing the employee locker room door open. Steam coiled around her feet, snaking out from the shower as the whistling got louder. She pictured the body art, the deep greens, browns and dark black of the vines rolling down his strong body. She gulped, took a seat on the bench. Then stood, walked in a circle, and sat back down.

  Okay, super seductress, now what? Do you barge in, rip the curtain aside and climb up his body like a horny teenager? Or wait, hands on your knees, as if anticipating the arrival of your Victorian era beau. She passed a shaking hand over her eyes, letting the flame of need she’d come to associate with Eli Buchanan scorch her from the inside out. She panicked when the running water and whistling stopped—glanced around, subconsciously looking for a place to hide.

  Cut the crap, Lori. You want him. You aren’t afraid anymore.

  She stood and tried to fix a sexy look on her face. She’d started this. She’d finish it by doing the one thing she’d wanted to do for months. After spoiling everything with Garrett—she might was well come full circle before she left for two years. A sob caught in her throat as she realized her reasons for being here were one hundred percent wrong.

  A tall and completely naked body emerged from the rolling steam effectively cutting off her train of thought. She had to suppress a gasp at the perfection before her — broad shoulders, firm chest, trim waist all covered in a light dusting of blonde hair, and that vine, peeking over his shoulder, inviting her tongue. She kept her gaze pinned on him, as he rubbed his hair and face with a bright white towel. The moment before he saw her she fixed on the line of slightly darker hair below his navel, leading straight to an impressive erection.

  “What the fuck?” He stared at her, looked down at himself and pulled the towel around his waist, anger suffusing the space between them. “What? I mean. Why…Lori. Jesus.” His handsome, lightly bearded face turned a shade of red she’d never seen before. A giggle burst from her lips. She clapped her hand over her mouth. Smooth. Very smooth.

  Before she could talk herself out of, it she took the three steps between them and pressed her lips to his, shutting off logic, light, sound and everything in between. Nothing existed but his lips and body against hers, his arms now holding her tight for a shining, perfect moment. But he pushed her away. “Stop it.” His jaw clenched as he spoke.

  She ran a finger down it, reveling in the soft curls of his beard fulfilling a fantasy she’d nurtured for what felt like ages. He closed his eyes. And that Eli-sparked flame blazed along her spine, settling nicely between her thighs. Her finger shook as it moved down his neck, reached his shoulder. She traced the vine around his bicep, satisfied when his breathing quickened as she moved toward the peak of one nipple, then back up around and down his back.

  She wanted to move in close again, taste him, but kept her eyes on the ink. He made the move to bridge the gap, gripping her hips. His full lips hovered over hers. “I mean it Lori. I can’t do this. What about…?” She plunged her hands into his thick shower-wet hair. “Jesus, help me,” he muttered then slanted his mouth over hers.

  Lori let her knees give out, sensed his strength holding her up, loved the dampness of his torso, face, and hair. She gave herself permission to
fall into it, heart and soul. Part of her brain kept screaming at her to stop, to go back to Garrett, but she smothered it with another round of kissing, gasping as Eli yanked his towel off, shoved her skirt up and gripped her ass.

  “You want this, do you?” He growled in her ear. “This, Lori?” He pushed her up against the wall, propping her with his body. “You sure? Because I assure you once I start I won’t stop,” He bit her earlobe, nibbled down her neck. She moaned and pressed back against him needing him so badly she had no words. “Hmm, I’ll take that as a yes.” He shoved her panties aside, and she sensed her body stretching to accept him as he eased into her.

  “Damn, Eli,” she whispered. “Wait, I mean, what about, oh!” He shoved hard, the wall bit into the small of her back. He tugged her hair, brought tears to her eyes, but the exquisite pleasure between her legs overrode the pain.

  “No condoms, baby. I only ride bareback.” He started to withdraw, but she threaded her fingers in his still wet hair, pressing her lips to his when he filled her again. He stopped just short of ripping the top of her blouse to get at her nipple. As he sucked it between his lips, he altered the angle of his thrusts slightly, forcing her higher up his body.

  “Oh, my God, yes!” She cried out, clapping a hand over her mouth. She should hate this, fear it, this brute force. But somehow, with Eli, it felt right, part and parcel of him.

  “Hold on tight, Lori,” He growled. “Come for me. Come all over me. Now.” At his words the climax burst up from her core, exploded behind her eyes. He thrust deep, again and again, dragging more pleasure from her, keeping his lips at her nipple, stretching the orgasm beyond anything she’d ever experienced. “I feel you, baby. I feel you pulsing all around me,” he whispered, tugging at her hair again. He bit down on her neck, sucked her flesh. “I’m gonna fill you up. Are you ready?” She nodded, still in the throes of something she’d never felt in her life. “Oh, yessss,” his voice was low, barely a whisper. She tugged his face up, made him look at her. His blue eyes were nearly midnight black.

  He slanted his mouth over hers, shoved his tongue between her lips the second she felt him pulse inside her. “Lori,” he broke her from lips and whispered. “Lori.”

  She smiled, and put her hand against his rough face. “Yes. I’m here.” An odd, unhappy look crossed his face. He lifted her up then back down on to the floor where she promptly sat before she fell, her nerve endings dancing with satisfaction. He stood, hands on his hips, that magnificent thick rod slick and still twitching. She reached out to touch it. He put his hand over hers.

  “Nice appetizer. Let’s go have some dinner.” He handed her a towel, threw on his clothes as she cleaned herself up, still in a daze. Once dressed he turned, pulled her to her feet and laid a tongue tangling kiss on her, running his hands up and down her enervated body. “You felt exactly like I thought you would.” His whisper sent a fresh jolt of horny straight through her. She kept her arms around his neck, going up on tiptoes to reach him. He cupped her ass, then released her. “C’mon, you sex goddess. You think I’m kidding? That was just a taste.” He winked at her, and she had a brief moment of dismay, a little flicker of “what the hell are you thinking?”

  She followed him out into the parking lot, then stared at the motorcycle he’d placed in her hand as if it were an alien being. “No, I can drive. I’ll follow you.”

  He laughed, and plopped the helmet on her head. “No, you won’t.” He mounted the huge bike and looked back at her. So she climbed on and held onto his torso, letting herself be that girl who rejected a perfectly good marriage proposal from an amazing man and ride away with a guy who probably had nothing to offer her but another great fuck. At one point he took the hand she had clutching his shirt and put it to his lips. The tenderness of that gesture made tears press against the back of her eyes.

  They pulled up in front of a turn of the century frame house on Ann Arbor’s Old West Side, with a big front porch and grass in serious need of quality time with a mower. He jumped off and helped her dismount. Still in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss and dismay at her behavior, she followed him up the steps, nearly getting bowled over by the giant black lab. She laughed as the dog slobbered all over her, black hairs flying everywhere in an explosion of canine exuberance.

  Eli picked up a tennis ball and heaved it across the side lawn, grinning as the clumsy animal clamored down the steps after it. He grabbed her then, pulled her in for a soft kiss, his hand cradling her cheek with surprising gentleness. She gasped at her bone deep reaction, as her body reheated to boiling yet again.

  “So, about that dinner,” she ran a hand down his chest, then further, smiling as he stiffened under her palm. “Let’s not let it get cold, shall we?” She purred into his ear, flicking the small silver loop in his ear with her tongue.

  “Don’t have to ask me twice.” He yanked the door open and pushed her inside. They tumbled onto the couch, shoving magazines, a guitar and empty water bottles to the floor in their haste to get at each other. “I’m gonna fuck you again, sweetness. Then we get a food break. Then a shower, then I am really gonna show you a good time. Then we might get some sleep. You game?” He growled into her neck. She giggled and held him close, shutting off that last voice of reason.

  Chapter Twelve

  Eli sat straight up in bed, hand on the baseball bat next to the nightstand. Trying to catch his breath, he gulped as he observed the dog, still snoring away on his lumpy cushion. For all his failings, the damn animal was like a radar when it came to noises, so he must have dreamed it—the loud banging on the door that woke him. He turned and put a hand on Lori’s bare hip, letting the smooth feel of her skin under his palm soothe him.

  Good Christ, Buchanan, what have you done now? This is not your woman. She belongs to the man who signs your fucking paychecks. You truly are the king of bad choices. He smiled as she rolled over, exposing one very tempting nipple. He crawled out of the bed they’d occupied for the better part of the last twenty-four hours, willed his cock down and his brain to click in with something resembling logic. Stumbling into the kitchen, he grabbed a water bottle. The place was its usual train wreck, shit piled everywhere on the counters, mail opened and flung aside, the general disorder of his life reflected back at him a hundred fold. He started piling dishes into the machine, wiped down the countertops, taking some comfort in the routine.

  His brain still spun with a strange combination of residual lust and something he was starting to identify as regret. Lori was not meant to be his, and he knew it, but damned if the more he had of her the more he wanted which spelled disaster. She was amazing, gorgeous, sexy, smart and met his libido more than half way. And he, Eli Buchannan, with one foot out the door of this town already, was bad news for her.

  Why did he care? Scratching the dog’s head as it lumbered in and bumped up against his leg, he let his mind wander as it always did, back to the first woman he’d allowed himself to love. He flopped down in front of his laptop and flipped through emails. The one from Cooperville Brewing sat, glowing. He’d been ready to delete it until last week. He glanced over towards the bedroom, then pulled up a file labeled “Denver.” He narrowed his eyes and watched the pictorial history of his failure. Visions of his younger, more naïve self made him even angrier. He closed the file and dumped it in the little trash icon. Part of him wanted to call it back, but he squared his shoulders. It was time to let the past lie.

  He nearly leapt a mile when a finger touched his shoulder. His heart did a weird little flip in his chest. He had to stop this now before he really got too deep to extricate himself. He stood, noting her frown at his abruptness. “Where are your keys?” He spit out as he pulled a shirt over his head. The dog bounded in from the kitchen where he had no doubt been enjoying a meal of garbage.

  Lori took a few steps back and tucked the sheet around herself. Eli looked away; otherwise, he’d wrap her up in his arms and likely never let her out of his sight. She shuffled over to the pile of their tangled clothes where
they’d ditched them at some point yesterday. Handing the keys over without a word she turned and headed into the bathroom. The shower started, and he had to grip his thighs, dig his fingers deep into his muscles to keep from walking in there and taking her again, and again while begging her to stay. He looked down at the canine sad sack holding a ratty leather leash in his mouth with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

  He stuck his feet into worn running shoes, snapped the leash in place and slammed the door behind him, which didn’t really make him feel any better. A punishing run in the cool morning air did. By the time he and the panting animal made it to her car still parked in the brewery lot, he’d had an epiphany — one that would likely change his life and maybe not for the good. He had to take steps because it was his nature. Sitting around wondering “what if” simply was not his style.

  After noting the truck of his second-in-command brewer and deciding against sticking his head in the door of the place, he piled the dog into Lori’s cluttered back seat and turned the key. The powerful German made motor roared to life. He jumped when the radio came to life at ear splitting decibels playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. He smiled, turned it down, and eased the car into the light traffic.

  Once back at his house, he parked, let the dog out. Bursting in, unable to suppress his grin of excitement he hesitated when he saw her, re-dressed and sitting perched on the edge of a chair as if at a crappy office holiday party. He tugged her up into his arms. “I’m going with you,” he whispered.

  Lori shut her eyes, let herself be held, as tears slipped down her cheeks. Only a few minutes ago she’d steeled herself for this moment. The moment when Eli returned, tossed her the car keys, made some flippant bullshit comment and ignored her until she left. Instead, he kept murmuring, fisting his hands in her hair when he kissed her. His rough jaw grazed her sensitized face, but she held on tighter, unwilling to let go. What did he mean “go with her?” Did he honestly think…?