White Hot Holidays 26: A Taste Of Honey

by Michele Bardsley

  She grinned unrepentantly. “Stop worrying, doll.”

  “I’m not worried.” I’m freaking the fuck out. Panic fluttered in Honey’s stomach. I’m going to a party so I can have hot sex with Jarod McClure. Wait a minute. What was the bad part again?

  Honey stared at the sexy image reflected in the mirror. Yeah. She’d dressed for the dark-haired man with the blue, blue eyes who called her an angel and kissed until she forgot her own name.

  Jarod had made her knees quake and her body sing. With his lips and his words, he’d made her want, made her need…

  And she couldn’t wait to finish what they’d started.

  * * * * *

  Jarod McClure sat at the long black-and-chrome bar sipping a beer and looking over the crowd.

  The Sex Club was Clement Falls’ best kept secret—that everybody knew about. Sure, he’d heard about it and had friends who frequented it, but this was the first time Jarod had stepped foot into the place—and only been able to do so because of H’s little card. The invitation-only club partied in a converted barn located on a member-owned farm more than twenty-five miles out of town, away from the prying eyes and wagging tongues of local gossips.

  Roger and Cindy, longtime members, had gleefully imparted Club guidelines when he’d dropped by their house and admitted he’d been invited to “play”.. The rules were simple and based on anonymity and safety. Wear a mask and never take it off. Always use a condom. Bring your own toys. Use initials, not names. Establish a safe word or gesture and if used, stop immediately.

  The bar was located in the Meet-and-Greet Room. According to Cindy, this area was the only sex-free zone in the building. Some participants liked to watch, others liked to go at it in front of anyone willing to watch, but quite a few liked the private rooms.

  Jarod was an open-minded guy, but he wanted a private room. He just hoped H felt the same way. He wasn’t sure he could drop his pants and do her against a convenient wall while other Club members watched. Hell, he’d passed two such couples on the way into the bar.

  Kind of a turn-on. Huh.

  A tall, lithe woman dressed in head-to-toe black leather approached him. Her mask was a black leather cat, complete with ears and whiskers. She held a whip in one hand and a champagne flute in the other. “My, my, my…aren’t you yummy? Wanna play?”

  Jarod’s lips lifted into a regretful smile. “I’m not your guy, hon.”

  “Gay?”

  “Not a sub…or a dom, for that matter.”

  “You didn’t smell like vanilla. Too bad, so sad.” She toasted him with her glass and moved on to other prospects.

  “What are you into?”

  Jarod turned and found a short, stacked blonde sitting next to him. Her brown eyes twinkled behind her simple white mask. Her white-lace teddy offered a view of mouthwatering cleavage and the hem showed the luscious curve of her ass. But it was the white thigh-high boots with three-inch heels that caught his attention. An image of this little morsel naked underneath him, those boots wrapped around his waist as he fucked her…his heart stuttered as desire roared through him. Jesus, God. Please, please, please let this woman be H.

  “The strong, silent type, huh?”

  He blinked. Then grinned. His mask was simple and black, his outfit merely a black T-shirt with well-worn jeans and his most comfortable black boots. “Sorry. You were saying?”

  “What are you into?”

  “I’d like to be in you.”

  Smiling, she leaned forward, a slim, pale hand toying with his wrist. “And why would a sweet, innocent girl like me go anywhere with a big, bad man like you?”

  “I’m not bad,” he said, his fingers stroking her silky blonde hair. “I’m just drawn that way.”

  She laughed. “Isn’t that my line?”

  “I’d rather be Jessica than Roger Rabbit.”

  Her brows rose.

  “I’m not a cross-dresser, either. Though I will admit that at the tender age of six, I did run around in my mother’s heels, but only because my brother dared me.”

  “Ah.” Her smile drifted into a seductive curl. “So you’re not into men, BDSM or women’s clothing. You do sound a little vanilla there. What is your kink?”

  He pretended to think about it. “I like to fuck.”

  “Okay. So anal, vaginal, oral?”

  “All three, sweetheart.” He cupped her face in his hands and gazed into her melting-chocolate eyes. “I love everything about fucking. The feel of a woman wiggling against me, her soft flesh scraping mine. The smell of perfumed skin, the sweep of silky hair, the heat of mouths, the moans of pleasure.”

  Her breath hitched. “And what would you do to me?”

  “I’d like to strip you naked and play with those gorgeous breasts. I’d start by kissing those perfect mounds—kissing every inch of flesh. I’d save your nipples for last. God, I’d love to suck those nipples, make them hard and aching. You’d be squirming then, wouldn’t you?”

  “Maybe.” Her voice was reedy, her eyes glazed with interest. “What else would you do?”

  “Would you like to find out?”

  Chapter Three

  The gorgeous blonde slid off the chair and offered her hand. “I’m glad you showed up. You know I’m H. And you are?”

  “J.” He took her hand, placed the palm against his lips and watched her shudder. Oh yeah, baby. You’re mine, all right.

  He paid the bar tab and grasped her hand again. She led him up two flights of stairs to a private room. Woo-hoo! Relieved he wouldn’t have to show off his manly moves in front of an audience just yet, he spent an excellent thirty seconds studying H’s ass as she unlocked a door.

  “I pay to have my own special play place,” she said as they entered the room. “It has everything we need to have fun.”

  She locked the door and flicked the lights on low. The walls were purple. The king-sized bed was sheathed in purple silk. The bed and the two nightstands on either side of it were pink. The carpet was pink too.

  “Interesting color scheme. Very Austin Powers,” Jarod said as he drifted around the room. He studied a couple of purple beanbags tossed carelessly near the pink mini-fridge then looked at a pink door. “Dare I ask what’s inside door number one?”

  “You can ask,” she said, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll tell.” She crossed to the fridge and opened it. “By the way, door number two is the bathroom. So…beer, wine, coolers, spring water and juice pops.”

  Jarod’s lips hitched into a grin. “Juice pops?”

  “I love juice pops,” she said. He watched as she took out a yellow one and unwrapped it. The mini-fridge door snicked shut as she rose and ambled toward him. “Hmmm. I love the lemon ones.”

  She licked the pop from tip to base. “So good,” she murmured. She stroked the lemon ice with her tongue with such…expert enthusiasm, Jarod felt his cock get hard and needy. When she took the entire pop into her mouth, he thought he might pass out.

  He closed the space between them and plucked the icy treat from her hand.

  “I suppose now is a good time to establish a safe word,” she said.

  “Angel.”

  “Angel it is. Now what do you have planned for that lemon-sicle?” Her gaze was challenging…almost mocking. No, almost as if she dared him to pleasure her. His cock hardened as he thought about all the things he would do to this little ice princess. She wasn’t skittish. He liked that.

  “Take off your panties,” he demanded.

  “If you want them off,” she said, spreading apart her legs and planting her booted heels firmly into the carpet, “then you do it.”

  Her insolence sucker-punched him and made hot lust flare in his belly. The only thing he loved better than a woman who gave him what he wanted…was a woman who made him work for it.

  With his free hand, he slipped three fingers under the wispy lace of her thong. She looked down at his hooked fingers then up at his face. “You’ve got to be kidding. That will never—”

&nb
sp; With one quick yank the material ripped and before she could finish her sentence, he dangled the shredded panties from his forefinger. Her stunned expression made him chuckle. “You were saying?”

  “Been practicing that move, have you?”

  “Maybe.” He knelt at her feet, oddly feeling like her captor and her slave, and leaned forward to scent her shaved pussy. The feminine spice of her sex was like ambrosia to him. He loved the taste and smell of woman’s pussy. He loved to put his lips and tongue on her tender flesh to suck and to kiss and to plunge until she came on his face. Just thinking about H’s cum dripping into his mouth made his hard cock tremble. Whoa, boy. Slow down or you’ll go off before you get inside her.

  Still holding the lemon pop, he leaned forward and kissed the spot just above the crease of her sweet cunt. He dragged his tongue down the slender line, sighing in ecstasy as he nibbled the plump flesh. His lazy exploration continued until her thighs quivered and her hands fisted into his hair. Though he intended to make her crazy, his actions only served to stoke his own lust to an agonizing peak.

  Finally…slowly…he traced her cunt with the melting lemon pop. She gasped but didn’t protest. As the yellow juice pearled on her skin, he licked off the drops. Using one hand, he pushed apart her vulva. With his other, he slid the pop inside her cunt.

  “That’s cold,” she murmured. He looked up and noted with satisfaction that her eyes were closed and her face was flushed.

  As he established a slow rhythm with the lemon ice, which was melting too fast, damn it, he suckled H’s clit mercilessly. Come for me, princess. Come on me.

  “You feel good,” she said, moaning. “Your tongue…oh hell! What a glorious, talented tongue.”

  She tensed…then rammed his face into her pussy. He dropped the lemon pop and held onto her ass with both hands. He took the assault of her clawing fingers and pumping cunt. He drank the lemon-tinged cum until she broke free of his grasp and stumbled backwards.

  Jarod was on his feet in two seconds flat. He withdrew a condom from his front pocket then unzipped his jeans and pushed them and the black-silk boxers off his hips. She watched him roll on the condom, her wide gaze not quite as confident as before, and yelped when he picked her up and slammed her against the wall. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered into her ear. “God, baby, I want to fuck you hard and fast until I come in that beautiful pussy.”

  Her erratic breathing told him she was either scared or turned on. He sucked in a breath, trying to gain some control, but all he could feel was the sensual press of her body against his. His heart pounded furiously and his blood raged. God. The tang of her sex was still in his mouth tormenting him as he waited for her decision. Would she say the safe word? Or give him permission?

  Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her legs tightened around his waist. Almost too softly to hear, she said, “Please…fuck me.”

  He was too far gone to play nice. He plunged his cock into her pussy and nearly died from the tight, warm feel of her flesh around his. Shit, shit, shit. Sucking in a steadying breath, he pinned her to the wall, his fingers digging into her thighs, and took her again and again. He wanted to make it last, but damn it, he was too turned on and she felt too good.

  “I’m going to—”Oh God! Jarod moaned loudly as the orgasm shuddered through him. He held onto H tightly as his seed spurted, meeting the resistance of the condom. A minute later, he slumped forward, pinning his blonde prize to the wall. “I’m sorry. It’s been a really long time.”

  “We have a lot of time to play, sugar,” she murmured, her fingers dancing along his shoulders. “Don’t you worry.”

  The hard points of her nipples pierced his chest, and he groaned in erotic anguish. He had plans for those beautiful breasts. Hell, he had plans for this beautiful woman. She smelled like honeysuckle and her skin was as soft as flower petals. A memory of last night skittered…soft laughter…hot mouth…cold snow.

  He wanted to know his partner’s name. Would she tell him? Should he tell her his identity? Maybe exchanging personal information was against the Club’s rules.

  “My turn,” said H.

  Jarod managed raise his head. “Your turn to what?”

  “To come again.” She grinned. “Me. You. Me again.”

  “I’ll need some recovery time,” he said.

  “Hmmm.”

  Not sure what “hmmm” meant, Jarod released H who wandered toward the bed. He went into the bathroom to dispose of the condom, clean himself off and undress. He left the mask on, but he hoped by night’s end, he and H would reveal their identities to each other.

  When he reentered the playroom, he stumbled to a stop.

  H was spread-eagled on the bed, a long pink vibrator thrusting in and out of her pussy. She had shed everything but her mask and those incredibly sexy white boots. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was opened in a silent “O”.

  His gaze lingered on her breasts. God, they were beautiful. The most gorgeous pair he’d ever seen. Big as grapefruits with nipples pink and juicy, he watched ‘em jiggle as H’s enthusiasm for the vibrator gained momentum.

  Without waiting for an invitation, he crawled onto the bed and whispered, “Need some help with that?”

  “My nipples,” H said. “Play with them!”

  Jarod moved so that he kneeled at the top of her head. While she fucked herself with the big vibrator, he leaned down and lavished attention her breasts. The huge, fleshy mounds turned him on. God, did they ever. He was a breast man, through and through, and H’s tits were luscious. Eagerly, Jarod kissed the puckered flesh around her nipples, tracing the crinkles with his tongue.

  “More,” she begged. “Suck them. God almighty, suck them!”

  Jarod scraped his teeth along one nub then he lightly nipped the other peak. A low moan escaped H’s throat. That erotic sound sent lust zinging straight to his balls. Oh yeah. He gave up his playful torture in favor of an all-out sensual assault on H’s gorgeous breasts. As he suckled and pinched and squeezed, he got hotter and hornier. And he kept sucking and pinching and squeezing until H screamed, “I’m coming. Ooohhh!”

  Her hips arched as she plunged the vibrator into her pussy. Her nipples went hard and tight, he tugged them as she gave herself over to the orgasm. As she went loose and limp, sweat rolled down her stomach, pearling in her belly button.

  He smelled her cum, the musky scent of it, and felt his mouth go all slobbery. Crawling over her, he placed his knees on either side of her head, his hands on either side of her thighs, and flicked a tongue over her sex. He wanted to drink her cream. Again.

  “I love your taste,” he said hoarsely. He licked her slit clean then pushed his tongue into her vaginal opening.

  He felt her move, adjust herself, but caught up in the taste and scent of her pussy, he merely adjusted with her.

  Then he felt her mouth on his cock.

  “Whoa. Wow. Uh…” Jarod’s eyes rolled back into his head. He heaved a breath.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. Her tongue flicked the tip of his dick. “Don’t you like blowjobs?”

  “Yah-uh,” he managed, “but I’m losing my focus on your beautiful, and may I add very tasty, pussy.”

  “We’ll just have to make the best of it,” she said, laughing. She kissed his cock, nibbling its ridges, and licked it repeatedly. I’ve died and gone to heaven. And I have my own personal angel…

  Her hot mouth worshipped his penis until he was crying “Amen!” Her soft hands cupped his balls, squeezing gently. Frissons of heat skittered through him as she sucked his cock. And just when he thought he might explode, H took all of him. He felt the warm slide down her throat…and he dove into her pussy with renewed vigor.

  She came before he did, and as he licked away the juice that dribbled from her pulsating cunt, the low moan that vibrated on his cock sent him shooting to the stars. She drank from him too, swallowing his seed with a gratifying purr.

  A few moments later he flopped onto the bed and watched
her wiggle off the white boots. When she was done, he said, “C’mere.” And opened his arms.

  “What’s this? Snuggling?” She sounded amused and, if he wasn’t mistaken, a little surprised.

  “What’s wrong with snuggling?”

  “Hmmm. I just thought it broke some kind of man code.”

  “I’ll demand dinner and a foot rub later. I’ll also call you ‘woman’ to an annoying degree and growl a lot.”

  H laughed. Then she wrapped one leg around his, her arm sliding along his waist. Relaxed and happy, they both drifted into sleep.

  * * * * *

  When Honey awoke from the short nap, she looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. 12:30 a.m. Her gaze coasted down the still sleeping form next to her.

  She had expected great sex. Their attraction was nigh-on combustible. And truthfully, she had expected that she would like Jarod McClure. He was funny and sexy and looked damned good naked.

  But she hadn’t expected the gooey, sweet emotion warming her like a just-baked batch of chocolate-chip cookies. She’d felt this way once or twice in her life but never this quickly. And with a man she had, well, lied to…not that he’d cared to ask who she was before he bedded her.

  Usually, at least here in this place of sexual safety and satiety, not knowing a man’s name didn’t bother her. Honey loved sex. She loved the male body. She loved her play place here at the Sex Club.

  Maybe she didn’t exactly like going home alone every night. Or not having someone to snuggle with. Yeah. That’s what did it, all right. Jarod, He-Man of ProCare, liked to snuggle after sex.

  Damnation. She was a goner.

  What would he do once he found out about her identity? That she was Honey Sinclair, owner and operator of Honey Do, his only competitor? And she was kicking his ass too. She knew it.

  Guilt swirled. She hadn’t expected to feel guilty for her duplicity. She just wanted to have some fun with Jarod. After all, he’d been the one to topple her into the snow and kiss her.

  Maybe he’d never talk to her again once she told him the truth. And she’d live with his choice. But for now…