Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“I’ve been having honey every day. I wonder if you taste as sweet as your namesake.” She sucks in a breath, and her cheeks redden further.
When I pull back, she can’t seem to find words.
My cock twitches at the sight.
I shouldn’t have come here.
I should have stayed in the dark.
But now I’m wondering if I should let her bite my cock again. How her lips would taste if I took her against this wall.
I can’t stay away.
CHAPTER 7
Honey
I’m confused, unsure of what exactly is happening, not with the situation but with my body. I can feel every part of me on fire.
All because he is here.
And almost touching me.
He shouldn’t touch me.
“Y-you’re at m-my place of work,” I stutter.
I see Marco peering through the glass doors, watching us intently. Dawson is recognizable, and considering my father isn’t a fan of him from the wedding, that, by default, means Marco doesn’t want us talking.
“It appears so.” He smirks.
I look him up and down, and he impresses me, as usual. That was one of the first things I noticed about Dawson when I first met him. He has style and can pull off almost anything.
It’s totally unfair to the rest of the population.
But then he made me laugh, and soon all I wanted to do with him was unspeakable things.
And I still do.
I’ve never wanted another human to touch me as badly as I do him.
And that’s a problem.
Dawson shouldn’t be here.
“Why?” I manage to ask. “This is a lingerie shop.” Oh God, please don’t tell me he has a girlfriend or even a wife. Surely, he doesn’t, especially after what we did in the closet. My mind goes into overdrive at the thought of him already being someone else’s.
“I’m very well aware.”
“Miss, do you like cats?” I turn around at the question and find the beautiful brunette who I served earlier standing behind me.
“Um, sure?” I reply.
She is gorgeous. Her body is long and lean as she turns in a slow circle. The woman looks like a model with beautiful, tanned skin and forest-green eyes.
“Question, do you think a cat would like this?” she asks.
What? I hesitate, not sure if I’ve heard her right. “I—”
“I have an audition tomorrow, and I must hold a cat wearing it. The lingerie is for cat food advertising, and they want me to dress sexy, to show that not all people who own cats are old and lonely.”
I try not to laugh. “Cats are great. And I think the cat will like the outfit,” I tell her. She smiles, happy with my answer, and sashays back to the change rooms.
“You don’t like cats, do you?” I jump at Dawson’s question as he leans over my shoulder, smirking.
Instantly, I try to put some distance between us. “Not at all. I hate cats. I’m more of a snake person,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Why is that, Honey? You don’t like their claws?” Before I can answer, he holds up a finger. “Because if I recall correctly, you certainly like to bite. Your teeth definitely left an impression on my cock.”
Heat flushes over my skin as I glance around to ensure no one can hear our conversation.
“I…” Dammit! He’s teasing me and taking great pleasure in it.
“Just gathering a list of things you like. Noted… dislike for cats.”
“Why does it matter what I like?”
Dawson reaches out for the gold necklace around my throat, inspecting the pot of honey pendant. It’s lame, but it’s my nonna's last gift, and I’ve worn it ever since. His fingers feather against my skin, and his touch freezes me in place. He then beams a sinful smile at me.
“Want to see something, Honey?” he asks.
I want to shake my head in answer, but instead, I nod submissively. It’s stupid, really. I bet everyone falls under his spell. Before I can resist, he grabs my hand and pulls me toward the back of the shop. He steps into the employees-only area, turns on the light, and then undoes his pants.
“I’m at work, Dawson,” I hiss out the words, more shocked than anything. Does he really think I will drop to my knees for him at work? I might have done it once, but that was different, and I never actually thought I’d see him again. He doesn’t listen to the worry in my voice. “I could get fired for you being back here,” I say, but my eyes don’t have conviction because they haven’t moved from his pants. Dawson pulls them down to where I can see the start of his shaft, and that’s when I notice a bit of redness. I lean in because I can’t possibly be seeing what I think I am. “Is that…”
“Your lips? Yes.” My hands fly to my mouth.
“Did you really get my lips tattooed on your cock? You do remember I bit it, right?” I ask, embarrassed. And shocked. Why would anyone do that? And yet, I can’t help but be flattered in a weird, twisted way. Does that make him messed up or me? Or both of us?