Honey (Full Throttle Series)

by Hazel Parker

  She bit onto it immediately, and we met up at another friend’s high-end club that was classy as hell and had me gaping in amazement. We’d hugged, and she made the customary sympathy noises, but I brushed it off and pasted a huge smile on my face and told her I wanted to have fun.

  And that was exactly how I found myself an hour later: still in the club, drinking some shots with Heather and her other model friends and trying to have some fun.

  Keyword: trying.

  My suspicion had been right. This really just wasn’t the scene for me, because I would rather stay at home and cuddle up under warm blankets. But it felt nice dressing up, especially since I got to wear my shimmery short dress that I hadn’t really had the opportunity to wear, considering it was a bit too sexy for the people I rolled with. It was also nice and rather surprising how no one in the group brought up my scandal at all. By the time I got acquainted with them and got to witness Heather sitting in the lap of a stranger and proceed to make out with him, I realized that scandals didn’t matter to them that much because they thrived in it.

  And so I was going to do the same, just for tonight.

  There was this really cute guy that I’d been checking out from the very beginning, a young actor named Ben that Heather introduced to me. He didn’t seem to be interested at first until he got my name, and the recognition I saw there made me realize he heard of me. Dread began to fill my stomach at the thought of him bringing up the scandal, but instead, he talked about something else.

  “You’re that famous race car driver that’s getting all the media attention, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I responded warily.

  “That’s cool. You’re female, and you’re kicking the men’s asses during the races. I watched one of your races on television, and I have to say, I’m pretty impressed.”

  That had me inwardly sighing in relief, then responding much more freely around him. I tried to be as interested in him as I could possibly be, but deep into our conversation, I realized something was lacking.

  Attraction.

  I wasn’t attracted to him, and I wasn’t connecting with him as much as I wanted.

  An image of Gavin floated in mind, almost like a tease. Immediately, my stomach clenched and something fluttered in my chest, making me annoyed and shocked at the same time. It was really, really pathetic that here was a nice man who treated me perfectly—and my body was responding to the other man who treated me like shit earlier.

  His apology floated in my mind as well, and I could still hear the raw sincerity in his tone when he said it, as well as the guilt that he felt. He didn’t mean it, but that didn’t stop the hurt from coming. I needed time away from Gavin in order to act accordingly around him, especially now that I was still fairly mad and miserable at what he implied.

  Worse of all, I was feeling things for him that I wasn’t supposed to be feeling.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  The voice broke me out of my reverie, and I shot Ben a guilty look. Then I flashed him a smile and a wink, reminding myself that I wasn’t here to think about Gavin.

  I was here to enjoy the night away and see where it led.

  “Sorry. I was thinking about work,” I lied.

  Ben leaned closer, chuckling. The low, deep sound of his laugh did nothing to my insides, but I still pushed on and kept smiling as he whispered in my ear. “Wanna go get some more drinks?”

  I wasn’t normally a drinker, but why the heck not?

  “Sure. Let’s.”

  *****

  I partied hard. I lost track of time and even lost track of Heather at some point, which got me to the conclusion that she was either on the opposite end of the club partying with some other people—or that she had gone somewhere private with the stranger earlier. They were probably now getting it on, and if it made her happy and satisfied, then I was all for that.

  Ben monopolized my time, clearly showing his interest and being all touchy-feely. I didn’t really like men touching me when I didn’t know them well, but I figured he was safe and danced with him as much as I could. I also drank a lot, enjoying the buzz and the friendship that was building between me and Ben.

  At least, I thought it was friendship until he tried to slide his hand under my skirt.

  I pushed his hand off as gently as I could, not really ready for that kind of interaction. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t a sex fiend and hadn’t had much sexual interaction with men since that sex video. A look of dissatisfaction crossed Ben’s face at my resistance, but it cleared away pretty quickly that I thought it might have been my imagination.

  Ben leaned forward again.

  “Have you ever considered going back into modeling?”

  I shook my head, then leaned closer, too. The music was so loud that there wasn’t any choice. “I like what I’m doing now.”

  “You look sexier when you model.”

  “It was just a thing to earn money,” I said, forcing a smile. When I realized I didn’t really like how low I felt after finding out the photographer filmed me, and then even lower after he scammed me, I quit right off and took on waitressing to support myself. It had been tiring, but better.

  But now Ben kept bringing it up.

  The first stirrings of discomfort came when he tried sliding his hand under my dress again. I swatted it off and accepted the drink he handed me, hurriedly taking it in one gulp before excusing myself from him. I headed to the restroom, the buzz still numbing my body as I stared at myself in the mirror—except I couldn’t really stare because I was starting to get dizzy.

  A sinking feeling came over me as I realized I drank too much. I already didn’t like where Ben was going with his moves, but if he found out I wasn’t well aware of my senses…the idea made me shudder.

  Before even thinking about it, I was walking over to the back exit, which led to the alley and the streets. I hailed a taxi and slurred the address, fumbling around in my hidden dress pocket and sighing in relief when I found my I.D. and some cash. My bag was in the club’s locker room, and it had everything I owned, including my phone. And my apartment keys. Fuck.

  Luckily, either I was good at pretending to be sober or the driver just didn’t care. He dropped me off outside my building, where I tried my best not to stumble in the lobby as I pressed the elevator button to my unit floor. I counted numbers in my head, trying to calm myself down as I tried to think where I placed my spare key.

  When I got to my floor, I allowed myself to finally show some weakness, leaning my shoulder against the wall as I took the slow walk to my door. To my surprise, the knob turned when I twisted it, and I stumbled inside without really thinking.

  Even in my state, I still knew enough to know the door should have been locked—I’d made sure it was when I left to party. Then my next thought was that I didn’t feel alone in the apartment.

  I was right.

  There was someone sitting on the couch in the living room, and that someone was slowly standing up. That someone was also familiar, and it took only a short squint for me to recognize the figure immediately.

  Worry creased Gavin’s forehead. He never looked at me like that before, not so openly, so it was quite a surprise.

  “Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” As he asked that, his eyes took me in, particularly the dress I was wearing. The worry was mixed with something now as his gaze went back up to meet mine.

  “Partying,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I took a careful step forward, the caution back as I coached myself not to sway. Or stumble. “Partying with friends.”

  Black eyes flared. “I heard you didn’t party.”

  “Maybe I do now,” I shot back. The increase in volume had the dizziness coming back, and I tried to fight it off as I remembered the reason why I was partying in the first place. “And it’s none of your business.”

  “It is my business when you get this drunk. What if something happened to you?”

  “Well,
nothing happened to me, did it?” I was firing goading shots at him, but at the same time, my mind was working. Why was I so drunk when I just had a basic buzz earlier in the club? It wasn’t like I drank that much after. All that dancing should have eliminated some of it, especially because I only had one glass after…

  Realization hit me like a brick.

  That drink, the one I took in a single gulp.

  The one Ben handed me.

  Oh, no.

  Gavin stepped forward, and it was only then I realized that I moaned the words out loud. I shook my head and put my hand out to stop him. My head spun at the action.

  “Honey, what’s going on?”

  I blinked and tried to focus on him. “You really need to leave.”

  “And leave you drunk? I’ve seen plenty, don’t worry.” He was saying something else, but the words blurred in my ears and I couldn’t understand a thing.

  I interrupted him. “Gavin.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Gavin.”

  “Honey?”

  “I think I’ve been drugged.”

  Curses came out of his lips.

  “And you’re not helping,” I yelled. “Stop shouting at me.”

  His hand took my outstretched hand, and his mouth was opening.

  “I can’t hear you very well, but I still think you’re shouting at me,” I muttered.

  My vision blurred, but not before I saw the anger switch back to worry on his face. Right. Maybe he wasn’t shouting, after all. My other hand reached out and gripped something hard, which I later realized was his shoulder.

  I smelled his scent, clean soap and man. Hot. He was so hot and he didn’t even know it, and maybe some part of me wanted him.

  That was my last thought.

  Then I was sinking into oblivion.

  CHAPTER TEN

  GAVIN

  I can’t hear you very well, but I still think you’re shouting at me.

  Those words alone proved something was wrong with her, and it wasn’t just because she was drunk. I’d seen her drunk before, and the drunk Honey was sweet and chatty and not looking as miserable as she looked now. Her words registered about being drugged, and the next words shifted in my mind right before she swayed in her spot.

  Then she began to fall.

  My reflexes were quick. I caught her before she could reach the floor, alarm ringing through me at her current state. Her body felt heavier than usual, she couldn’t support her weight even if she tried. Her arms reached out to me, and she tried to steady herself as her head lolled to my shoulder.

  I leaned down, about to grab her knees and carry her bridal style. But her hands tightened on my shoulders, and she vehemently shook her head.

  “I’ll die of embarrassment if you do that,” she muttered, her cheeks turning pink. The head-shaking made her eyes blur even more, but she held on. “Just support…me…to my room?”

  I gritted my teeth and nodded, then did as she asked. My hand settled on her waist, wrapping around it to support. At the back of my mind, I could still acknowledge her warmth and softness. Then her stumble had me focusing on her as I lifted her weight so she could walk lighter.

  “Where’s your room?”

  “First door. You’re really, really hot.”

  The words made me want to look at her, but I kept my gaze on the door she indicated. She reached out and opened it, and I took in the sight of a clean area with gray and black undertones. I expected her taste to be more feminine but realized this made much more sense.

  “Do you acknowledge that you’re hot?”

  “Hmm,” I responded.

  “You’re also an asshole.”

  My mouth quirked. “Says you.”

  “Well, maybe not completely,” she slurred. She let go of me and almost stumbled face-first into her bed, but she managed to push her palms out first. The action caused her butt to rise in the air, and I tried not to look as her dress hiked up. Surprisingly, she managed to climb on it without so much as a hitch, lying flat on her back and staring up at me expectantly.

  Her eyes were still blurred, but the way they stared at me had my nerves unsettling. I sat on the edge of the bed and eyed her back, my hand near her head. She moved her head to touch it, almost like a cat snuggling. Her head rubbed, and her eyes grew sleepy.

  “Were you worried about me?” she asked softly. She struggled to sit up, still facing me, and my hand dropped to my side. She frowned as she concentrated on gathering the blankets around her waist, then turned to beam at me when she managed it successfully.

  “Sara said you didn’t do parties, so I didn’t bother searching there,” I said. “That was a lapse on my part.”

  “I didn’t have fun,” she admitted. “I mean, I had, but…it wasn’t as fun as I liked. Too many people.”

  I frowned. “Did they do something to you?”

  She shook her head, then blinked a couple of times and groaned. I reached out. At the same time, her hand grabbed mine, and she placed it beside her again, snuggling her head on my palm. She sighed.

  “Someone almost did. I’m sorry for running away and worrying you…”

  “Just don’t do it again,” I said gruffly.

  Honey closed her eyes, seemingly sleeping. I allowed myself a full minute to just study her face, watching her long lashes settle near her cheeks and the soft, full lips that were entirely too kissable for her own good. I forced myself not to look down because my body was already reacting even just at the sight of that face.

  Her red hair fell in a mess around her shoulders, and my fingers itched to lock onto the strands. I fought it.

  After a while, Honey yawned, then lay back down and took the blankets with her. I was about to stand up and leave when she took hold of my arm and tugged.

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered. “I’m feeling messed up.”

  My lips tightened. I acted right away, checking her pulse, her temperature and everything else. They were all normal, even her heartbeat, and she didn’t seem to be in any danger. But I knew I couldn’t leave her alone and needed to monitor her throughout the night if there were any changes, and that meant she could be in danger.

  I was going to have to stay here with her.

  By the time I was done making sure she was fine and comfortable, she was already sleeping soundly. I watched the steady rise and fall of her breathing for a while, telling myself repeatedly that I wasn’t soft for her. She was just my client, which was why I was worried earlier. But I can’t deny how worried I was as I looked for her all over town, as I imagined all the things that could have happened to her. The protective instinct was strong—and because I had always younger clients this has never been an issue. The attraction.

  I sighed.

  Then I took off my shoes and climbed onto the bed’s other side, staying out of the blanket and then staring at the ceiling. Realizing I was already a bit sleepy, I closed my eyes and decided to just think properly in the morning.

  A few minutes later, I was already asleep.

  *****

  The sound of Honey’s voice calling out my name had me sitting straight up, particularly when I heard the tone in her call.

  Panic.

  I was alert instantly, and my gaze zoned in on her, who was thrashing against the blankets. Her eyes were still closed, but her mouth was open as she moaned out in complaint. My ears cocked to hear what she was saying, and it was only when she started repeating it in murmurs that I got it.

  “I’m hot. It’s too hot. Help. Gavin.”

  It had to be the drugs taking effect because I didn’t think being drunk would get her complaining like this. I removed her blankets off her and eyed her as her hands tugged and pulled at her dress.

  “You’ll tear it,” I warned.

  “I don’t care,” she whined, her eyes blazing open and locking with mine. “Get it off me. It’s too hot.”

  She looked like she was about to cry, and her panic was getting worse. I sat her up, tryin
g to locate an opening. I found it at her side and slid the zipper down, then slid her dress down with it. Her hands wrapped around me and her head settled on my shoulder, and the feel of her body so close as I slowly undressed her had me gritting my teeth.

  It wasn’t supposed to be erotic, but it was. My hand ended up brushing her skin from time to time, and my blood started simmering. Her scent, which was a mix of alcohol and jasmine, was intoxicating at this close proximity, and it was a struggle trying to remove her dress and keep my hands off her at the same time.

  When the dress was down her knees, she kicked it off and uttered a sigh of relief. I looked up.

  “Are you wearing underwear?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

  She sighed again, then snuggled even closer. “Did you want me to remove them, too?”

  To my horror, her hands began to move, and I realized they were moving towards her bra strap and lowering it down. My blood rushed from my roaring head down to my belly, and I took her wrists and stopped them from their actions. A strangled sound came out of my throat.

  “I didn’t say—”

  “Because I can,” she blurted out, her head lifting and her mouth touching my ear. “Or you can.”

  The words had me losing my breath. Because I was too focused on it, I was startled by her sudden movement as she displayed a show of strength and pushed me back until my back was on the mattress.

  Then she was straddling me.

  Stunned, I could only lie back as her mouth settled near my ear again, teeth lightly grazing my earlobe. Heat shot up in my body, and my hand automatically went to her waist to stop her. But that was all my hands got to, because they remained frozen in place as my body absorbed her heat and something in me stirred in response.

  My cock, for one.

  I tried a last second resort by calling out her name in a desperate attempt to put an end to this.

  “Honey…”