A Taste of Honey (4 page)

And talk about gorgeous…You have to admit after all these years it’s fun to be with a guy who’s so big and strong and…dominant.

Kit conceded that point. For years the guys she hooked up with tended to the slender, wiry side, the exact opposite of Jake’s six foot four of imposing brawn. At an athletic five seven, she wasn’t particularly petite herself, and she had to admit it was kinda fun feeling almost dainty in bed.

But so what? So he was still incredibly hot, and his sexual technique had improved by several orders of magnitude. Jake, she reminded herself firmly, was still the original dog that had crushed the romantic spirit of her seventeen-year-old self, screwing her literally and figuratively without so much as a follow-up phone call. And she was no longer an innocent girl in the throes of a wicked crush, but a grown woman who knew better than to put much stock in a handful of orgasms.

Once they got on their flights this afternoon—he to Boston, she to San Francisco—the last two days would fade to a vague memory of hot sex under the Mexican moon.

Not bothering to hunt for her clothes, Kit snatched up one of Jake’s XXL T-shirts and pulled it over her head. It hung past her knees, providing plenty of coverage for her walk of shame back to her own room. She tried not to notice the masculine soap and sandalwood scent that clung to the soft cotton as she padded down the hall. Nevertheless, she couldn’t ignore the fierce pulse beat that picked up between her thighs at the thought of nuzzling her nose into the naked skin of his chest, the silky underside of his arm, his hair-roughened inner thigh…

As she crept across the living room, thankful that she’d yet to encounter any other guests, she picked up the low rumble of his voice coming from the kitchen. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, and wouldn’t have even stopped if she hadn’t heard her name.

She crept into the adjoining dining room, and from her vantage next to the china hutch she could hear them clearly without being seen.

“She’s one hot piece of ass.” Kit was pretty sure that was Dave, her least favorite of the groomsmen. Unfortunately he was also the groom’s brother, so he had to be included in the wedding party. He’d struck Kit as an overgrown frat boy trying to perpetually relive the glory days of the Sigma Chi house, so she wasn’t surprised or particularly offended to hear his assessment of her. “Is she as wild as she looks? I bet she’s a screamer.”

Kit tensed, bracing herself for Jake’s contribution to the locker room talk, telling herself she didn’t give a crap what he had to say.

“If you say one more word about her, I’m going to take this spatula and shove it straight up your ass.” Even more shocking than his words was his tone: low and lethal and definitely not messing around.

“Hey man,” Dave’s voice sounded garbled, like someone was choking him, “I was only kidding. It’s not like I’m talking about your wife or anything—”

Jake’s next words stunned her. “As far as you or anyone else in this house are concerned, Kit is mine, got that? And if you so much as look at her again before we leave today, I’ll feed you your own testicles.”

Kit’s shoe slid from her nerveless fingers, its impact unnaturally loud in the tiled, high-ceilinged room.

“What the—”

Crap! She made a mad dash across the dining room and down the hall to the room she hadn’t slept in for the past two nights.

How dare he be so possessive, she fumed.
Kit is mine.
Whatever! She wasn’t anyone’s, thank you very much, and one weekend of—albeit fantastically amazing—sex was not about to change that.

Especially when it involved Jake Donovan. Did he really think, after all these years and the way he had treated her, he could waltz back into her life and give her a few mind-blowing orgasms, and she’d allow herself to be dragged back to his cave?

Fat chance. It was time Jake got his own bitter taste of reality.

Kit groaned in frustration as a knock sounded at her door. Who could possibly be here at nine P.M. on a Tuesday night? Maybe if she pretended not to be home, whomever it was would go away. One thing she did not need right now was an interruption. Not only did earnings reports start tomorrow, but also in less than twelve hours she had a deadline on another article in her ongoing investigation into local biotech companies that had fudged clinical study data on pharmaceuticals they were developing.

She clicked on a URL and pulled up yet another article on the fun things various drugs could do to one’s liver, dreaming wistfully of the day when she could write things like “Stripping It Down” and get paid enough to leave the dry, clinical world of business reporting.

The pounding at her door continued. It was probably her neighbor Margot from across the hall wanting to watch TV since Kit had cable and Margot didn’t. She slid her bare feet into the red fuzzy scuffs under her desk and shuffled over to the door.

“You can come in,” she grumbled as she flung open the door without bothering to look through the peephole, “but you have to keep quiet.”

“If I remember correctly, last time I saw you, you were the one making most of the noise.”

Kit stepped back in shock at the sight of Jake Donovan in her doorway, a take-no-prisoner’s grin stretched across his unfairly handsome face.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped before she could stop herself. She thought for a split second she was hallucinating. In the week since she’d returned from Cabo, Jake had never been far from her thoughts. Especially when she’d written the last two installments of “Stripping It Down,” during which she’d revisited every delicious moment she’d spent at the mercy of Jake’s sexual potency.

Ignoring her question, he pushed his way past her and into her apartment without an invitation. Closing the door behind them, he caught her chin in one hand and tilted it up to meet his kiss. “I never did get to kiss you good-bye,” he said as he released her, licking his lips as though savoring her taste.

She felt a wash of shame across her cheeks. After she’d heard his outburst in the villa’s kitchen, she’d quickly packed her stuff and asked one of the maids to call her a taxi. After sneaking out the back entrance, she’d left for the airport without so much as a good-bye to anyone. Especially not Jake.

Not the best form, she conceded, and definitely not the move of a woman who was as nonchalant about Jake as Kit told herself she was. But Jake was getting ideas, as evidenced by his outburst to Dave, and at the time Kit could think of nothing but getting far, far away before he foolishly tried to make something out of their meaningless weekend fling.

And the fact that he was in her apartment, unannounced and uninvited, a mere week later warned her that Jake might not have taken their weekend as casually as she would have liked. “You flew across the country just to kiss me good-bye? Should I worry that I have a stalker on my hands?”

Jake chuckled and walked into the living room, tossing his suit jacket across the back of the couch as though he did it every day. As he loosened the knot of his tie, she couldn’t help admiring the way his shoulders strained the brushed cotton of his button-down shirt, the way his suit pants draped over the tight muscles of his butt. He leaned his weight against the back of her putty-colored sofa, heat crackling from his eyes as they scanned her from her messy ponytail to her ratty red slippers.

She fought the urge to cringe. Of course, Jake would be dressed like a GQ wet dream while she had to answer the door in a threadbare T-shirt she’d picked up for free at a conference somewhere and a pair of ancient boxer shorts. Not that she cared what he thought of how she looked—she wasn’t sure she wanted him here at all, and the less desirable he found her the less likely this situation would get complicated.

Never mind the fact that her nipples had risen up like bullets at the first flick of those cool green eyes.

“Don’t worry, Kit,” he said, “I won’t be boiling any bunnies. My firm is working on a deal out here and they want me in the San Francisco office for the next month or so.”

That sounded reasonable enough. She had, of course, Googled Jake the minute she got home and knew that his firm did have an office in San Francisco and had invested in several local technology companies.

What an idiot. As if he would actually fly all the way from Boston to see her, regardless of how phenomenal the sex had been. She didn’t know what was scarier—the initial thought that he
had
taken their weekend too seriously or that she was actually disappointed he was there only for business.

“I called your brother to get your info,” he continued, “and figured I’d stop by.” He pushed up from the couch and walked slowly toward her, not stopping until he stood mere inches away.

“You could have called first,” she said, folding her arms across her chest to hide her body’s intense reaction.

“After the way you left”—he slid his hand up and around to cup her neck—“I wasn’t sure you’d agree to see me.”

She licked her lips nervously, clenching her hands around her biceps as she fought the urge to sweep his feet out from under him and knock him to the floor. “You didn’t think I’d want to see you?”

His teeth flashed whitely against his tan skin. “I knew you wanted to see me,” he said, “but I didn’t know if you’d agree.”

He leaned closer, until she could feel his warm breath across her lips. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she murmured, her lips brushing his chin as she couldn’t stop herself from rising up on tiptoe and leaning in.

Grasping her ponytail in his hand, he pulled her head back, teasing her lips open with his tongue before thrusting inside. Her arms uncrossed and coiled around his neck, pulling him close as she opened her mouth wide for his invasion.

He groaned and sank into her, sucking and biting at her lips like a starving man. Heat pooled between her thighs until all she could think about was getting him naked and inside her as quickly as possible.

Still, she couldn’t let him win so easily. Jerking her head from his grasp, she said, “So that’s it? No flowers, no dinner? You were in town and thought you’d look me up for a booty call? I wonder what Charlie would think about you treating his baby sister like this.”

Jake slid a proprietary hand up the back of her shirt, his splayed fingers sending hot shivers down her spine. The other wrapped around her hip, drawing her close enough to feel the heat of his erection through the fabric of his pants. “You want me to work for it, Kit? Dinner? Flowers? I’ll do whatever you want.” He kissed her hard, leaving her lips swollen and throbbing. “But I spent the whole flight like this,” he growled, pulling her hand down to his fly so she could feel for herself how hard and huge he was, “thinking about how soon I could get inside you.”

It was too much. She didn’t want to hear the want, the
need
in his voice, scaring her even as it sent a gush of liquid heat pulsing between her thighs.

“I’ll play any game you want,” he whispered as his tongue trailed down the sensitive cords of her neck, “but I thought at this point we could be honest with each other.”

Relief, mixed with disappointment, coursed through her. Kit focused on relief. Clearly whatever possessive feelings he had for her had faded, and all he wanted from her was sex. Why beat around the bush pretending to date when all he wanted was some good old-fashioned, no-strings-attached sex like they’d had in Mexico?

Because that was exactly what she wanted too.

Liar.

But Kit ruthlessly silenced the voice that tried to tell her she wanted more.

Instead she grabbed Jake by the tie and pulled him into her bedroom, where they stripped each other with frenzied efficiency, pausing to kiss and lick each new patch of skin as it was revealed. Backing him up against the edge of the mattress she pushed him down, following after him until she landed sprawled naked across his milewide chest. Like a cat in heat she rubbed herself against the lightly furred wall of his chest, hissing as his hands covered her bare breasts, palms rasping against the sensitive points of her nipples.

His cock was hot and throbbing against her belly, and she positioned herself over him so she could slide her dripping slit along the rock-hard flesh. Big hands cupped her ass, grinding her against him until she was on the verge of orgasm from that brief contact.

Not yet.
She pulled away slightly, leaning down to trace her tongue between his pecs as something he said in that wine cellar tickled at the back of her brain.

With one hand she guided his hands up to the wrought iron rails of her bed frame, while the other slid open the drawer of her bedside table. In only a few seconds she managed to locate what she wanted.

The cold snap of metal sounded unnaturally loud in her tiny bedroom, and Jake’s eyes flew open as he found himself handcuffed firmly to her headboard.

His biceps bulged deliciously as he tested the bonds, and finding himself firmly tethered, he relaxed back against the pillows.

Knees spread on either side of his torso, Kit sat back, surveying him like a conquering Amazon claiming her prize.

“I’m at your mercy.” He smiled.

“You certainly are.” Leaning forward until her breasts just brushed his face, she moaned as he obediently turned his head so he could tongue first one, then the other nipple into his mouth. She sat back again, and his mouth released a hard point with an audible pop. “Whatever shall I do with you?”

“I could make some suggestions, but since you’re the one who wanted to play power games, I think it should be up to you.”

She wondered what Jake would say if she admitted this was the first time she’d used the handcuffs. A gag gift from a girl’s night out, the pink fur-lined novelty item had rested unused in her bedside drawer for the past two years. As sexually liberated as she liked to think she was, she’d never had the urge to tie a man down and had certainly never trusted one to do the same to her.

But Jake was so cocky, so sure of himself, she couldn’t resist the temptation to put his skills to the test. “You told me in Mexico,” she said, gently raking her nails down the skin of his chest, “that you could make me come with both hands tied behind your back.” A film of sweat erupted on his skin, and she felt the tip of his cock jerk against the back of her thigh. “Let’s see how you do with both hands tied to my bed.”

A slow, sexy smile spread across his face, and she could tell by the flutters low in her belly that he wouldn’t have to try all that hard. Licking his lips in anticipation, he whispered, “Climb on up, Kitty Kat.”

She settled herself over him, knees on either side of his ears. Her breath caught, eyes closing as he nuzzled her labia apart. Her fingers wrapped around his where they gripped the headboard, a soft moan pushing through her lips as his tongue made a soft foray. Flicking and swirling, he teased and taunted her clit with soft brushing strokes, then abandoned it to trace the drenched seam of her lips, pushing his way into her hot core in a soft tongue fuck.

Her hips rocked to meet the soft thrusts, her sounds of pleasure giving way to frustration as he kept his strokes light, brushing, never settling into a firm rhythm that would drive her to orgasm.

Proving that just because he was tied up didn’t mean he was powerless.

“Damn you, stop teasing,” she said between clenched teeth.

He laughed softly, the vibration sending shuddery pulses against her aching flesh. She sighed as his mouth opened over her clit, drawing the tight kernel between his lips and lashing it with firm strokes of his tongue. He feasted on her with hungry sucks of his lips, lapping and plunging against her.

Within moments she felt the familiar tightening in her core as her orgasm bloomed low in her belly. His mouth’s relentless assault drove her over the edge, his tongue driving inside her quivering cunt as she trembled and pulsed against his face.

Hot tingles spread down her arms and legs as she slid herself down his body, coming to rest with her head against his chest. “I guess you weren’t lying.”

He lifted his head off the pillow and leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of her head. “I hate it when people exaggerate their abilities, so I try never to do it myself.”

Kit sighed and squirmed against him, jerked out of her sleepy postcoital lassitude by the insistent prodding of his erection against her ass, reminding her that she might be well satisfied, but he was still very much aroused and raring to go. It would serve him right if she left him unsatisfied and tied to her bed, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it after he’d done such a good job of getting her off.

True, she had a petty vindictive streak and she didn’t know if she’d ever be through with Jake, but to leave him hard and aching seemed outrageously unfair.

Not to mention a horrible waste of a perfectly good erection.

She nibbled and sucked her way down his torso, loving the salty taste of his skin, the musky scent of aroused male teasing her nostrils. Her tongue traced the narrow line of hair that bisected a perfect six-pack, skittered around his navel, and stopped just short of the rigid shaft jutting up and tapping insistently against his belly button.

A bead of pre-come pearled on the tip. His cock jumped against her tongue as she lapped it off. Every muscle stood out in tight relief as she punished him with the same teasing licks, the soft, kitten-like laps he’d used to torment her. A vein stood out starkly along his shaft, throbbing double time as he strained against her firm hold.

Finally she took him into her mouth, and his thrilled groan was enough to send a bolt of renewed want straight to her core. He was so big she could barely fit her lips around him, her mouth stretched around the tip of his cock as she struggled to take him deeper. Grasping him in her hand, she worked him in short, tight strokes as her tongue swirled against the silky smooth head. His hips moved restively, and she could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust into her mouth.

As much as she loved the taste and feel of his cock in her mouth, it wasn’t enough for her either. Her pussy wept and throbbed, aching to feel the thick stretch of him sinking inside her.