by H Q Kingsley
Honeymoon
Short & Scorching Collection
H Q Kingsley
Contents
Honeymoon
Excerpt of Kinkdom
Keep up with HQ
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Copyright ©2018 Sister Publishing, LLC
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover Design by Karma Kingsley
Editing by Alphabitz Editing
Honeymoon
Liam and Greer have just said ‘I do,’ but instead of a blissful honeymoon, Greer is filled with unexplainable doubt and hesitation. After a few ups and downs, the two find the rhythm in their marriage after they invite the handsome attendant into their bedroom for a wild night of unbridled passion.
Honeymoon is a hot and sweet, quick short read and the first story in the Short and Scorching collection.
I had an hour until our descent.
I stretched as best as I could in the middle seat. The cabin of the jet was dark except for the tiny light over my head and the soft glow of tablet screens that peppered the rows around me. The drone of the engines had knocked out just about every passenger on the five-hour flight from L.A. to Honolulu, but I just couldn’t sleep.
It wasn’t the flight. I loved to fly. It wasn’t the excitement of my honeymoon or the thrill of seeing somewhere new; those feelings had ended on the layover in Pittsburgh. I couldn’t sleep because something inside of me was gnawing at my gut and clouding my mind.
I looked to my right. Liam was pressed against a small pillow, eyes closed and mouth slack. He was so handsome, even in a deep sleep in an awkward position. The muscles of his chest rose and fell in time with his steady breaths. His eyelids were barely touching, and his long lashes meshed together, hiding a beautiful pair of soft, deep-brown eyes. His super curly black hair sprang from the top of his head, but the sides were closely cropped. An equally black beard outlined a set of full lips and a strong jawline. Stubble creeped up on his light brown skin, but it looked good, not sloppy. That was Liam, always on the edge of casual and professional. He pulled it off well.
I laughed as I remembered our first meeting three years ago.
We’d met on the set of a shoot. The clothing line I modeled for decided to test the market on a new line of men’s fragrances called Power Understated. The idea was you could use the spray after a workout or before a night on the town. I was the workout picture in color, and Liam was the man about town picture in black and white. It was a visually stunning campaign, but the stuff smelled horrible.
Liam had come out of wardrobe in a pair of tight leather pants, a white linen button-down shirt, and motorcycle jacket flung over his shoulder. I must have smiled too wide when I saw him because he’d grinned so cockily as he walked over to me.
“Liam,” he’d said, extending his hand to me.
“Oh, I’m Greer.” I’d taken his hand, but only for a moment, afraid he’d sense my sweating palms. “You ready for this shoot?”
He’d raised his arms out wide, showing off his outfit.
“Love these clothes,” he’d said, “but I sure hope I don’t have to actually wear the fragrance. Have you smelled it? It’s like your great aunt’s soap with…”
“A hint of licorice,” I’d finished for him.
“Licorice! I couldn’t put my finger on it. Thank you, Greer!” He’d touched my arm and I’d instantly felt a spark.
“Well, I gotta get over to my set. This photographer is good but wound tightly. He shot me for an erectile dysfunction ad a few months ago. He really captured my hopeful angst, but I came late from lunch by about three minutes, and he just about hyperventilated.”
Liam had laughed and touched my arm again.
“Well, Greer, I know how these things go and production is already behind, gonna be a late one. Wanna grab a drink after its done and reminisce about our day with PU?”
“PU?”
“Power Understated-P.U.”
We’d looked at each other for a few seconds before we burst out laughing.
Liam had been right. The shoot had gone late, and we hadn’t headed to a bar until after midnight. It was a small Mexican place in the meat-packing district.
We’d drank a lot of tequila, laughed until the early morning, and had our first kiss on the bike path next to the Hudson river just as the sun was coming up.
The kiss was long and warm with just a hint of tequila on our breath. Our bodies melted into each other, and had it not been for an early afternoon shoot I had scheduled later that day, we probably would have ended up sleeping together on our first date.
I can’t remember a day after that where we weren’t together.
We were a perfect match in many ways, and our friends laughed at how physically fit we both were. They called us Superman and Liam Lane. It bothered me a little, but Liam loved it. He would laugh and bat his eyelashes and feign a swoon with hand to his forehead and a falsetto, “Save me Superman!” before falling into my arms. Life of the party, that guy.
On paper, we were perfect for each other. Our parents loved both of us, we understood the trials of being a male model in the city, and we shared a passion for physical fitness and nutrition. I was serious, he was funny. I was clean and organized, he was cavalier and spontaneous.
I loved Liam. And that’s what made things so confusing. We were married less than twenty-four hours ago and it was one of the happiest days of my life.
So why, an hour before starting our honeymoon, did it feel like I had made an enormous mistake?
The fasten seatbelt sign lit with a ding! The voice of the flight attendant followed a second later.
“Ladies and gentleman, the pilot has turned on the fasten your seatbelt sign for now. Please secure your trays and bring your seats to the full upright position. We are detecting some slight turbulence.”
“Birds of Paradise.”
“Huh?”
“This plant. It’s called Birds of Paradise. I read about it in my travel guide on the flight over, and here it is, right here in the lobby.”
I forced my eyeballs to the right. A plant, about four-feet-tall, swayed in the breeze from the fan looping lazily overhead. Long green stalks with flat spear-headed leaves were accentuated by a shock of vibrant blue and orange blooms. The shape of the petals gave the flowers the appearance of colorful birds in mid-flight.
“It’s beautiful.”
“They grow wild here in Hawaii, but they originated in South Africa. Isn’t that amazing?”
I smiled at the man, but it was unnecessary. His face alternated between the travel guide in his hand and the exotic plant before him, totally engrossed.
The last twenty-four hours and its whirlwind of wedding vows, champagne, dancing, TSA lines, a long-ass flight from the mainland, and my ever increasing doubts had finally caught up with me. All I wanted was to sleep on the soft couch in the lobby and not listen to a discussion on the flora and fauna of Hawaii from a dad in socks and sandals.
I looked around the lobby. He wasn’t the only dad I saw. They stood there, in terrible shirts with bags under their eyes. Kids slept on their shoulders or slumped over luggage as their wives fussed with tickets and room keys. It was sad.
The lobby was clean, but tired-looking. Too much gold trim, too much taupe, and not enough windows. The staff wore tidy button-downs and navy blue vests. They seemed polite and efficient but drab somehow.
Passionless.
It was hard to hide my disappointment.
Liam had surprised me with the honeymoon at the reception. It had been torture for the past six months not knowing where we were going or what I should pack. I knew it was a sign from Liam. He had never been the most reliable human on the planet, and I think he was trying to show me he could handle shit on his own. He could plan a trip and pay for it and make sure every detail was covered— without my help.
Funny how committing to a lifetime together could bring out someone’s independence, but there it was, and I was proud of him for seeing it through.
I just wished it hadn’t resulted in my honeymoon being spent at a family hotel surrounded by all the other sexier hotels in Hawaii, a state built on sexy hotels for newlyweds...but I digress.
Strong hands gripped my shoulders from behind and Liam’s lips brushed my ear.
“Suite seventeen awaits,” he whispered, dragging the ‘s’ out as his hand clutched my ass, reminding me that where we were didn’t matter. This was our honeymoon. As long as there was somewhere to tear each other’s clothes off, what more did we need?
I turned and pressed my lips to his. God, he was gorgeous. I looked at him for a long minute before my eyes dropped to the absurdly large key on a keychain with the number 17 on it, dangling from his hand.
“Is that a key? Like an actual key? This place doesn’t have electronic key cards?” I frowned, all of my optimism slowly melting away. “It’s 2019 for fuck’s sake!”
Liam’s brows pulled together as he slipped the key into his pocket. Hurt clouded his features, and I suddenly felt guilty.
“Please don’t start, Greer,” Liam said gently.
“What?” I shrugged, pushing away the guilt. I’d taken just about as much of the hotel as I could and we hadn’t even made it to the room. “I didn’t say anything. Just making an observation.”
Liam shook his head and took a breath. “Nevermind. Forget it. Come on, they already brought up our luggage.”
I nodded as I took his hand, letting him lead us from the lobby.
“Good evening,” I told the man still staring at his plant as we passed.
“Maybe I’ll see you at breakfast,” he said. “Continental, 7-10am.”
“I never pass up a danish and cereal. I’ll look for you,” I lied. He was way too chipper for my taste. Liam was the only upbeat man in the world I’d ever really wanted to be around. I was a grump. I knew it. It wasn’t some shocking quality I was unaware of. I was a classic pessimist. I hated everything and everyone…Except Liam. He’d wormed his way in somehow. So why was I suddenly having so many doubts? Why wasn’t I completely and utterly absorbed by the firm, perfect ass sashaying from side-to-side as Liam led us to our room? What the hell was wrong with me?
As we stepped into the elevator, I leaned against the side, yawning as I stared into the mirrored reflection in front of me.
“Tired, Greer?” Liam asked, bringing my hand to his lips to place a soft kiss to my knuckles.
I nodded. “Yeah, baby. Flight knocked me out. You?”
“A little.” He shrugged before he stepped forward, closer to me. “But I think I can get my second wind once the door locks behind us,” he said, pumping his eyebrows.
He leaned into me, letting go of my hand to cage me between his arms. He pushed his palms into the mirror, supporting his weight as he hoovered barely an inch from me.
I looked him over, appreciating him. The muscles in his forearms stood out like cables, and the veins in his biceps strained against the tight cotton of his tee shirt.
I met his dark eyes. I knew that look in them, and it made my cock pulse.
“Unless,” he said as he dropped one hand from the wall. He let his fingers lightly brush against my growing erection. “You can’t wait until then.”
He dropped his head, brushing his lips against my neck and I shivered.
“Greer,” he whispered. “I’ve been thinking about this since you said ‘I do’. You looked so good in that white shirt with your dark skin, that bald head all smooth and delicious. The way your chest filled out that jacket... I was like, 'that’s my man.'”
I chuckled, but my mind couldn’t process any snappy commentary. All I could focus on was his hand making teasing contact against my bulge.
“Mmmm, you looked good, too, baby,” I breathed. “Chill baby. Let’s wait ‘til we get inside,” I said unconvincingly as I guided his hand to do more than just graze me.
Just as he started to squeeze me, the elevator jolted to a stop. I quickly slapped his hand away, just as the doors opened up to another dad in dad uniform with his two young kids.
My face heated as I nodded at them, hoping they couldn’t sense what had just been going down.
“Going down?” The dad asked, his face bright and chipper.
“Eventually.” Liam chuckled, but I was unamused.
“No, we’re going up,” I said to the man as his face scrunched in confusion.
“Oh, no problem. We’ll catch the next one,” he said. “Must have hit the wrong button.” He grinned much too wide for my liking, waving to us as the doors closed.
Liam grinned back, but I was too abruptly reminded of where we were. I was back in my head now, all of the blood returning to my big brain.
Liam leaned in, trying to pick up where we left off, and I brushed him off.
“Are you hungry? I heard breakfast here will be slim pickins. Maybe we should order room service,” I said, ducking away from his pursed lips.
He froze. “Room service?”
I cringed. I knew that tone and it wasn’t good.
The elevator dinged again and the doors opened to a dimly lit hallway. Framed pictures of Birds of Paradise lined the walls.
Liam pushed past me and I followed his stiff-legged stride to our door. He fitted the key into the lock and it opened with a creak.
“Goodnight,” he said.
“Liam, stop it.” I reached out for him and he jerked away.
“What, Greer? Stop what?” He popped his hand onto his hip.
“Stop acting all pissy.”
“I’m pissy. I’m pissy?” He let out a harsh breath. “Greer, you’re face has told me everything tonight. I know you hate it here, and I’m the one who planned it. Or maybe you just hate that I did this on my own, without your help. You can’t let me have it, can you?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I? We are on our honeymoon, Greer! Our honeymoon in Hawaii. At a nice hotel and you want to order room service ‘cause you heard the breakfast is 'slim pickins?'”
I sighed. “Ok fine, so it’s not the type of place I would have picked. I wanted a sexy resort, not family-friendly.” I reached out for him. “But don’t worry, I’ll make the best of it. I promise.”
Liam’s face flattened. “Make the best of it? Oh my God! I cannot believe you would say that.”
“What?” My brows pulled in confusion. What else could I possibly do? I hated the place, but I would suffer it for him. “I know this place means a lot to you. So, yeah, I’ll make sure it’s great.”
His face was unreadable for a long moment, but then he smiled.
“You will?”
I nodded. His tone had changed to something unfamiliar. It wasn’t his pissy tone, but it wasn’t his usual chipper one either.
“Of course, baby.” I returned his smile.
He whirled me around and pushed me back against the door. His hands grabbed my linen shirt by the collar and ripped it open, scattering buttons to the floor.
I stood there shocked with my shirt hanging half off my shoulders as his hands grappled with the button and zipper of my shorts. I was almost too surprised to be turned on, until he ripped them open with a grunt and his hands gripped my shaft through my silk boxers.
I let out a groan as he squeezed, his grip unapologetically moved up and down my length.
He kissed down my neck, making a path to my chest. His mouth licked and kissed
my nipples as he worked me back and forth, using the silk to get me hard.
I groaned in pleasure. The sleep was knocked from my eyes and my hands snatched his curly black hair to press his mouth harder onto my chest.
“You like that, baby?” he asked, gently scraping his teeth along my nipple.
“Mmmm, yes. Bite me, baby. Don’t stop,” I begged, my dick growing rock hard. “Feel how hard you’re making me?”
“Mmmhmm.” He moaned into me as his hand worked me faster.
I let go of his hair and arched back against the door as he slid down to kneel before me.
He yanked my boxers down in one swift movement.
His mouth was inches from me. I could feel the heat of his ragged breath on my tip, and I trembled with anticipation, the head of my cock beginning to bud with the tiniest bit of precum.
“You want it?” Liam teased.
“Yes, baby. I want it. Please,” I panted.
Liam ran a slow finger up the length of my cock, licking his lips as he watched it travel back down to my balls.
“Dial zero,” he said, backing away.
I chuckled as my hands found the top of his head gently urging him forward.
“Mmm, dial zero,” I said. I paused, confused by the dirty talk. “Okay, baby. What’s that mean?”
He swatted my hand out of his hair and climbed to his feet. “Dial zero for room service. Asshole.”
This time there was no confusion about his tone. He was definitely pissed.
I watched him disappear into the dark recesses of the hotel room. I stood there, barely two feet into the honeymoon suite, still hard, shorts and underwear at my ankles and shirt hanging off my body in tatters, listening to my new husband pull back the covers and slip into bed.
“Goodnight, baby,” I said, unenthusiastically.
“Fuck you.”
I woke up early, too early for a vacation.
My back cracked and popped as I stood, and my neck promised me stiffness for the rest of the day. I hoped the hotel at least had a masseuse on staff.
