Page 12 of Silk and Honey

“There’s something else I would like to confess, Avery,” he says.

“Okay,” I reply slowly.

“You were the first man I have ever been with,” he whispers. “The only man.”

The statement slams into me. It should freak me out, but it doesn’t. It only turns me on even more. I remember back during the Pride festival he told me he was bi. He told me that he came out to his family and doesn’t plan on ever keeping it a secret again. But to be his first, I suspected, but actually knowing is so fucking hot.

“Then tell me,” I pant, lazily stroking my cock as I stare at him from the counter. “What do you want to do to me?” I spread my legs wide, teasing him with a view of my hole.

He groans. Without saying anything else, he lifts me. The hold is awkward and strangely exhilarating. He doesn’t carry me far, but I’m giggling by the time he plops me down in his soft work chair. So much for acting sexy. Then again, what’s sexier than a man who can make me happy?

“I want to suck your cock, sweet boy. Can I?”

I blink. Still slightly dazed. Did this giant, muscular man of my dreams ask to suck my cock? My fingers wander back down to my hard length as I begin stroking again. “Please,” I reply.

Just like that, Gideon sinks to his knees and wraps his lips around me. No hesitation. He just sucks my cock like a fucking pro. He’s a liar. A filthy, filthy liar. There’s no way this is the first cock he has ever sucked.

“Damn, Gid. Slow down. I’m already so close.”

He groans, the vibrations making me thrust into the back of his throat and causing him to choke.

“Oh, fuck. I’m sorry Gid I—” My words are cut off when he continues sucking even harder, only this time he pushes his mouth further down my hard length, choking himself on my dick. Obscene noises tumble from his throat, followed by the sound of him stroking his own cock violently fast. I try to peer down, but I can’t, not when his tongue does something absolutely magical.

Without warning either of us, I come. He doesn’t stop. He just eagerly swallows it all, purposely choking on it until he’s coming too. I slump back in the chair, and he collapses into a sitting position, head resting against my thigh, my softening cock still in his mouth.

My fingers tangle into his thick black hair, and I close my eyes. We stay like that for what feels like hours, lost in the sweet, sticky heat of the workshop, completely wrapped up in each other. I have never been this compatible with someone in and out of bed. Sex between us is fire, but the way we click everywhere else is…intense. Ezra wanted me to inspect the wax, but as Gideon finally pulls off my cock and begins peppering thankful kisses all over my thighs, I realize I’m completely hooked on the bee farmer.

Chapter six

Gideon

The farmer’s market is even busier than usual. Main Street is blocked off with plastic orange cones, the asphalt lined with white pop-up tents, local food trucks, and a small stage where Olly is strumming his guitar. More than half the town is here. I stand behind the wooden counter of the Honey Meets Pandesal booth, arranging jars of our golden sunflower honey and stacking rows of handmade soaps. My mother and sister are next to me, chatting as they work. Eventually, they wander off together to buy supplies for the farm, leaving me to man the booth on my own.

My hands move automatically, but my mind is stuck in the workshop from three days ago.

I can still feel the exact weight of Avery’s body pressed against mine, and the taste of his lips. It was a perfect, intoxicating moment, but the second he drove away in his old truck, the reality check set in.

I glance across the narrow walkway toward the Beauty and the Boutique booth. Avery is there, a bright splash of energy in a short-sleeve graphic tee with a bold floral print. He’s laughing, the silver glint of the rings on his fingers catching the sunlight as he helps Ezra arrange a rack of silk wrap tops. He looks like a damn super model. God, he’s too beautiful. What the hell does he see in an old washed up introvert like me?

He’s twenty-six. I remind myself, my chest tightening as I grip a heavy glass jar. He just left Olivia Cove. He has big dreams, so much talent, and a massive career ahead of him.

And me? I’m thirty-eight. I spent my twenties looking for snipers in desert terrain and pulling screaming fans off of celebrities like Emery and Olly. Hell, we even had a situation a while back with a dangerous stalker. My soul is tired. I came back to this town to bury myself in the quiet, predictable routine of insects and dirt because it is the only thing that keeps the noise in my head silent. What happens when the novelty of a quiet farm town wears off and he realizes a stoic, scarred ex-bodyguard who barely speaks three sentences at a time isn't enough to keep him entertained?

"You're doing it again," a lazy voice says.

I drop the jar of honey back onto the table with a soft thud. Emery is leaning against my display pole, a paper cup of iced tea in his hand, a silver hoop glinting in his ear. He is watching me with a sharp, knowing look.

"Doing what?" I rumble, pulling my canvas apron tight.

"Pining," Emery says, taking a sip. "You look like a giant gargoyle watching a puppy. Just go talk to him. He’s been looking over here every five minutes."

"He’s working," I say shortly. "So am I."

"Sure you are, big guy." Emery chuckles, tapping my shoulder as he walks away. "Just don't wait too long. Someone else might buy him one of those tasty pastries from Don’t Go Bakin’ My Heart. God, I love that bakery."

I grunt, turning back to my display, but my eyes gravitate right back across the aisle. Kennedy, Avery’s chaotic best friend, is currently hovering by the edge of the Beauty and the Boutique tent. He catches me looking, gives me an exaggerated wave, and then violently nudges Avery in the ribs, pointing directly at me.

Avery’s head snaps up. His face instantly lights up with a brilliant, sunshiny smile. He says something to Ezra, dusts his hands off on his jeans, and immediately struts across the hot asphalt straight toward my booth.