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“You’re here,” Honey says, confused. And I like the hot flush that runs across her cheeks. It’s different from how most people look at me—like I’m a prize of sorts. They either stare or avert their gaze. But not this woman, who is so confident in herself and yet has such a peculiar innocence about her that she sometimes looks like a lost doe. I lean in close to her ear, inhaling her scent—definitely smells like bad choices.
“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 becauseheis 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 almostanything.
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.
