A Taste of Honey (22 page)

She hung there, impaled, pinned against the wall, breath coming in harsh pants as long-unused muscles and tissues struggled to accommodate his massive length. Nerve endings awakened and danced as pain inevitably gave way to excruciating pleasure. Then he was moving, slow and so deep, and she was dying, pressing her clit against the base of his shaft, moaning at the delicious friction of every stroke. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she tried to drive him faster, but to her increasing frustration she couldn’t get any leverage.

Suddenly he stilled, leaning into her and holding her immobile against the wall. She thrashed and struggled against him but couldn’t dislodge his much-greater weight. Sick bastard that he was, he wouldn’t move, just held her there, tormenting her with light kisses on her neck and shoulders and an occasional hard suck on a nipple.

Karen clenched around him as he nipped the beaded flesh, kneading him with her body, trying to seduce him back into the rhythm she needed.

But instead of moving like she craved, Mike pulled out, lifting her up and turning her so she faced away from him. She shivered in anticipation as he tipped her forward to brace her hands against the slick tiles that lined the shower.

Her cry echoed off the tiles when she felt him slide in from behind, filling her almost to bursting as he drove home.

Still he didn’t move.

Seething with frustration, Karen tried to work herself against his cock, determined to reach the orgasm that hovered just beyond her reach.

He stopped her with a broad hand against her sacrum. She felt his hot, moist breath in her ear as he bent to whisper, “You be a good girl and hold still, Karen, or I’m not going to let you come.”

She stiffened at that, hackles rising at his domineering attitude.

She turned her head to tell him to fuck off, but the words stuck in her throat. His face was set in savage lines, jaw clenched, full lips tight in an expression of pure sexual dominance. Then she saw the removable showerhead in his hand.

A helpless little moan sounded from her lips as he trailed the spray up her leg. Oh, just a few more inches…

With an evil chuckle, he bypassed the juncture of her thighs and instead moved the nozzle over her back, around to her belly, and ground himself just a little deeper inside her…

Karen held her breath as he allowed just the very edge of the spray to hit her nipple, bringing the already-aroused flesh to screaming awareness. She thrust back against him as her other nipple received the same treatment.

Her back arched and she was literally vibrating around his cock as the spray slid down her belly and Mike’s other hand came up to play with her breasts.

“Mike—”

“Tell me what you want.” The spray moved down until it just barely touched her stripe of blond hair.

Karen stood up on tiptoes as she tried to get the water to hit her where she most needed it.

“Tell me,” he repeated, running the water across the tops of her thighs, barely skimming her clit. It was just enough to make her clench and shudder around him.

“I need—” The words died at another pass of the spray, and this time he lingered for a split second. “Oh God, I need to come.”

“That’s it. You want to come so bad you can taste it.”

Her only response was another moan as his fingers parted her labia, exposing her clit to the firm pressure of the shower for just a nanosecond before he whipped it away. “But you can’t come until I let you.” He moved the shower down her leg, then up, over her ass, around to her belly. “Now beg me. Beg me to let you come.” His command was matched by a swift withdrawal and thrust, another pass of the spray.

Karen quivered on the edge, looking into the abyss of an orgasm more intense than anything she’d ever experienced. She cursed him silently as her words echoed, firm and clear as she pleaded for release. “Please, Mike,” she said, beyond pride, beyond caring, “please make me come. Please.”

Her voice cracked as he finally gave her what she wanted. The spray hit her clit and release rippled through her as the tremors started at her core, pulsing through each limb as she shuddered and jerked around his mercifully thrusting cock.

Abruptly he dropped the showerhead and, no longer holding back, pumped inside her with a force that lifted her onto her toes. Her muscles undulated and clenched around his shaft. She gloried in his deep moan as she felt him swell even bigger inside her.

Sounds of flesh slapping flesh filled the shower as he pounded against her, hands clenched around her hips. “Oh Christ,” he moaned, and she felt his thick cock twitch and jerk inside her. He collapsed forward, his hands coming to rest beside hers against the wall.

His heart beat like a trip hammer against her back, and his breath sounded harsh in her ear. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of him softening inside her, reveling for a moment in the knowledge that she’d given him an orgasm at least as intense as her own.

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, a soft, gentle touch that belied his earlier predatory attitude. It was stupid, but suddenly Karen wanted to retreat to the bed with Mike and indulge in the kind of postcoital snugglefest she’d always scorned.

He slipped from her body and exited the shower without a word, and Karen took the opportunity to try to pull herself together.

She toweled herself dry and started a quick repair job on her makeup while she tried to formulate a game plan.
I’m going to walk right out there, fix Mike a drink, and see if he is up for another round
, she thought as she rubbed on moisturizer.

Or maybe she should tell him thanks for the good time, and he should get back to his party.

Or maybe, she thought in a moment of insanity, she could tell him the truth about what had happened that night eleven years ago. Maybe he would believe that she wasn’t the awful, amoral person he thought she was.

The way he’d kissed her shoulder there at the end—maybe he did still harbor tender feelings toward her.

She opened the bathroom door and, telling herself she wasn’t disappointed that he wasn’t stretched out on the bed, moved into the sitting room.

Mike was fully dressed and stepping into his shoes. Her stomach sank even as she painted a bright “I don’t give a shit” smile on her face.

“Leaving so soon?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s been fun reminiscing with you, Karen, but my brothers are going to wonder where I am.”

“Don’t let me keep you. As far as I’m concerned your work here is done.” Her voice sounded huskier than usual around the lump in her throat.

He laughed softly, and for the first time since she’d first seen him at Cleo’s, a real smile creased his face. “Ah, Karen, you’re such a bitch.” He walked over and tipped her chin up, kissing her with a force just this side of brutal. His hazel eyes were glowing when his mouth released hers. “But you’re still a great fuck.” He paused before he shut the door behind him. “See you at the wedding.”

Karen stared at the door for several long moments, his parting words ringing in her ears.

She’d had lots of men tell her she was a great fuck, that she did amazing things with her hands and mouth. She couldn’t remember a time that she hadn’t used it as an advantage, a time when those words hadn’t given her at least a little boost to her ego.

Ever since she’d given Josh Thompson a hand job her sophomore year and realized he’d do anything she wanted if she hinted she might go a little farther, she’d embraced her power over the male of the species. Of course, Josh had gone and told everyone that she had gone all the way, and pretty soon most of the boys at North Tahoe High School nearly rang her phone off the hook. She never went all the way with any of them either, and she soon discovered that they were all just as satisfied to get off in her hand or her mouth as they were in her body.

No one ever wanted to come forward and admit that
he
was the one guy Karen wouldn’t have sex with, so as far as the school was concerned, if you went on a date with Karen, you fucked her.

She didn’t bother dispelling the rumors, because it meant she was able to distinguish herself dramatically from her sister, the town genius. In her own screwed-up teenage logic she had been happier to be known as a slut than the geek’s dumber sister.

In the meantime, she’d enjoyed the attention and waited for someone who really curled her toes.

Mike.

With other boys, she’d kept a certain objective distance, took pride in her ability to lead them around by their dicks. But not Mike. She’d never been able to lead him anywhere, and things now were clearly no different.

Tears poured down her cheeks, and Karen tried to wipe them away, but they flowed as though from a faucet.

Oh, you showed him who was in charge, all right
. So much for her plan to bring him to his knees, prove how much he wanted her even if he didn’t like her. All she’d managed to do was prove to herself that a man didn’t have to like her to fuck her senseless. And that Mike still had the power to make her weak. To make her beg.

Her stomach squirmed as she heard her own voice echoing in the shower. “Please, Mike…”

Please, Mike…

Just like that night, eleven years ago, when she’d begged for his love, his understanding. Then, as now, he’d turned away, the look in his eyes telling her she was dirt.

Woodenly she pulled on a T-shirt and sweats, wincing a bit at the unfamiliar pull of muscles that hadn’t seen action for a good long time. It was so quiet, and she was so alone; if not for the physical reminders she could almost pretend this had never happened.

She sighed and flopped back onto the bed.
I am a complete fucking idiot
.

Mike had always been in charge of every situation, and that hadn’t changed even if she was older and more experienced. Even at the age of twenty-one, he’d seemed ages ahead of her eighteen. His strength, his maturity, on top of his outrageously macho good looks, had compelled her to chase him down in the first place.

She’d known him practically her entire life, but it wasn’t until he’d showed up at her eighteenth birthday party with his brother Tony that she’d really noticed him. Home from UC Davis on summer vacation, he’d looked bored, as though he thought himself superior to the mostly just-graduated-from-high-school crowd. Like his brothers, he was big and dark, all rippling muscles and dark olive skin. Karen had viewed it as her personal mission to make sure he had a good time.

Much to the dismay of her date, Karen had ridden off that night in the passenger seat of Mike’s Bronco, where she’d experienced her first orgasm at the tip of his tongue.

He’d been surprised to find her a virgin. She couldn’t fault him since everyone knew everything in their small town, but for the first time, she’d felt the faintest twinge of regret over her reputation.

She’d fallen in love with him almost instantly. She never knew if it was because he was the first guy she couldn’t manipulate, the first guy to make her come, or thanks to the influence of the romance novels she loved to read, but she’d formed an unreasonable attachment to the first guy she’d ever gone all the way with.

Or maybe it was because he was the first guy who, even after he’d gotten what he wanted from her, actually seemed interested in something other than sex.

He hadn’t been ashamed about making their relationship known, hadn’t cared that the other guys might be whispering about what
they’d
done with her. Mike didn’t give a shit. Besides, of all of them, he’d known the truth.

She’d been crazy that summer, chasing him around, barely willing to let him out of her sight. She still cringed at the memory of how desperate she’d been for his touch. And his love.

She’d thrown herself headlong into their relationship, telling him she loved him after about a week, and after that several times a day. Each time he’d looked touched, tender, and on a couple of occasions she could have sworn it was on the tip of his tongue to say it back to her.

As the summer wore on, she’d grown more desperate, willing to do anything to capture and hold his attention. When they were alone, she’d tried to be the hottest, most obliging lover he’d ever had. When they were out, she’d amped up her already sexually charged image to make sure that all attention, especially Mike’s, was on her.

Yet, instead of drawing him out and getting him to say what she needed to hear—that he loved her too and saw this as more than just a summer fling—he’d grown distant.

It was as she always feared. A guy had finally taken the time to get to know her and in the end realized he didn’t like her at all.

Suddenly he’d become like all the other guys. He hadn’t wanted to talk, hadn’t wanted to discuss what would happen when he returned to Davis. All he’d wanted was sex. Oddly, it hadn’t been selfish sex, like he’d just wanted to get off. Instead, he’d delighted in lingering over her for hours, as though her orgasms were more satisfying than his own. Almost, anyway. He was, after all, a guy.

He made her beg then, as he had tonight.

Then it had all gone to hell. Memories bombarded Karen’s brain. Memories she didn’t want to relive, images that made her hate herself, hate Mike, hate the world with such keen intensity it was as though no time had passed.

It was August, and Mike had announced he was leaving a week early for school. The only explanation he’d offered was “There’s a problem with our apartment, and we have to get back early.”

Karen was already irritated that Mike had invited his roommate from school, Jeremy, up for a visit. Now Mike was leaving a week earlier than planned. Worse, when she’d asked Jeremy about the apartment, he hadn’t known what she was talking about.

That night Mike had told her he and Jeremy were going to hit the bars in Truckee, and it was clear she wasn’t invited. She had decided to go to a party on the lake with her friend Kit. No way would she sit home alone waiting for Mike to sneak into her bedroom.

Karen felt a fresh, sharp pain as she remembered seeing Mike at the party. He’d been smiling down at some brunette, teeth white against his tan face, biceps bulging out of the cotton sleeves of his T-shirt.