Paradise Hops (13 page)

She bit back a sob at the look in his eyes. “I do love you.” The words tumbled from her lips. “I love you, Garrett. You are an incredible man, a perfect man. I’m such a bitch, a stupid, immature child not to see it. I had some kind of bug up my ass about this thing, thinking I wouldn’t let you take it over, to make it work for me so I…I…,” she clutched at her elbows, realizing the futility of her effort. Knowing she had no one to blame but herself.

He blew out a puff of air. She recognized it as his way of staying calm. “Well, you got one thing right, I guess.”

She stared at him, her whole body aching for his touch. Then realizing that was something she would likely never get again.

He put his hands on the back of his large leather chair as if holding himself up. “I would have done everything I could to make it happen for you if I had known it was what you wanted.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and glared at the screen. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to take this call. Then I’m going home.”

She took the phone and touched the screen to end the call. She had to finish this, one way or another. He frowned and grabbed the device from her. “Don’t cut me off, Hunter. You have to hear me out.”

“Do I?” He slipped his arms into his coat. She noted it was the soft grey suit—the one he’d been wearing when they met. Her heart pounded. She had to fix this now before it was too late.

“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.