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“Okay what?”
“Okay you win.”
“What have I won?” I had no idea why I had the constant desire to goad her, but it was a definite part of our dynamic.
“Me.”
I couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at the corner of my lips.
“Oh. I didn’t realize I was playing for you, but glad to hear I’ve come out on top, right before I come on top.”
“Shut up”—she closed the gap between us and reached up, grabbing my neck—“and kiss me, before I change my fucking mind.”
Her mouth was on me so hard and fast, she almost took me by surprise, and given how sharp my reflexes needed to be for playing ball, that was a rare occurrence. This kiss was even fiercer than the first. If she’d been holding back before, she was laying it all on the table, now.
As we kissed harder and deeper, she reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. I was as hard as I could ever remember being, and even with her hand on me through the fabric, her touch felt like heaven. She squeezed hard repeatedly and rhythmically, increasing my desire. I needed to be inside her sooner than later.
She was standing on the tips of her toes to maintain our position—it was a fairly hefty height difference between us, even though she wasn’t exactly short, and I was bending my knees as much as I could without doing myself an injury.
I was considering carrying her over to lean against a nearby tree trunk with her legs wrapped around me, but I thought it would probably be a little uncomfortable for her as her back rubbed against the bark. But then as I looked around the clearing, I noticed a stump that was the perfect height and width to act as a chair for me.
Without even thinking, I grabbed her hand—much to her obvious disgust—and led her to the stump in a few large strides. Her hand was small, smooth, and cool, and for some inexplicable reason felt perfect nestled in my big bear mitt. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. There was going to be no more holding hands between the two of us—or any other form of contact, for that matter—after we’d guilty-pleasure fucked. Still, it was weird that something so wrong felt so oddly right.
“We can’t—”
“Shhh... we can. Just... no talking, before one of us changes our mind.” She nodded, and I was relieved that she finally agreed with something I’d said.
“Good. Now get this shit off.” She looked incredulous, and I could tell that she was burning to say something, but, having agreed to shut up, she couldn’t. Instead, she nodded mutely, and began undressing.
As she bent at the waist to undo the laces of her hiking boots, I followed suit, unbuttoning my pants and pushing them and my boxer briefs down, freeing my dick at the same time. The relief was instant and infinitely welcome. I’d been hard for most of the hike, especially when I’d occasionally hung back a little, allowing Honey to walk ahead of me, for no other reason than I wanted to watch her tight little ass as she climbed. Fuck, her body was so hot.
When she straightened up and caught sight of me, her eyes widened, and her mouth formed into a surprised “O.” I couldn’t help but imagine those same lips parted wider as they curved around my dick. The thought had me even harder—though I hadn’t thought it possible.
It was a reaction I was pretty used to from chicks. I guessed that was one of the few black-guy stereotypes I lived up to. A look of hesitation flashed across Honey’s face.
“It’s not the tools you’re working with, but how you handle them that counts. I know what I’m doing. Trust me.” I winced at the choice of words. If there was one thing I knew about Honey St George it was that she didn’t trust me as far as she could throw me.
I tore open the condom packet I’d retrieved from my pants before dropping them, and got suited up in record time, while Honey watched me with intent fascination. Her eyes strayed from my hands to my chest, checking out my hardware. It was another thing about me that was often met with raised eyebrows when girls first saw it.
When I was done, I reached out to her.
“Come on.” She stepped closer hesitantly, and I pulled her the rest of the way. She collided with my chest and scowled. This was going to be fun.
“What are you waiting for? It’s not going to fuck itself.” I didn’t know why I enjoyed pissing her off so much, but I really did. It was fair to say that apart from award-winning hard-ons, she truly brought out the worst in me. “Sit in my lap. It’ll be deep, but the best fuck you ever had.”
At that statement, my gaze traveled down to ground zero, and, I was sure, mirrored her look of surprise from moments earlier. She was clean shaven, which I definitely wouldn’t have predicted. I guessed it was a reminder not to judge a bookish girl by her cover.
As Honey slid into my lap, hesitating briefly again, I tilted my hips toward her, encouraging her to hurry the fuck up. She took the unsubtle hint and lowered herself onto me, slowly but steadily, a determined scowl on her face. I took in her features as the moments passed, while she avoided eye contact at all costs.
When I tilted her chin with the crook of my finger in an attempt to capture her gaze, she clamped her eyes shut. Okay, Honey Bee, if that’s how you want to play it.
But then she started slowly circling her hips, and it changed the game. I slammed my eyes shut also, not because I didn’t want to look at her, but because I couldn’t. My senses were so overloaded that something had to give. With vision out of the mix, I was able to focus on whatever the hell was going on in the rest of my body. In theory.
In reality, it was still a lot to handle. I brought my hands to Honey’s hips, and pulled her further onto me. I had no patience for the softly-softly approach. We were there to scratch an itch, not make babies.
Chapter 14
Honey
