Page 87 of Kiss Me Honey Hone

He half expected Kenny to drive him back to campus. They’d made a plan: Jack would stake out the shop with him tomorrow, trying to glimpse this Peter Middleton, and in the meantime, Jack would dig into his past. Kenny had handed over the theory, tied with a neat psychological bow, but now it was Jack’s turn to sell it to his superiors, to make it seem like the whole idea had been his. That wouldn’t be easy, and Aaron didn’t envy him.

He didn’t like him either, so whatever.

But Kenny didn’t turn toward campus. He kept driving, hands tight on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road. Aaron didn’t question it. He didn’t dare. Instead, he just sat there, chest growing heavier with every passing mile. When Kenny finally turned into his driveway, Aaron realised with a jolt that maybe Kenny hadn’t been thinking at all. He’d driven on auto pilot.

The car rolled to a stop. Kenny sat there for a beat, blinking himself back to the present. Then, without a word, he cut the engine and climbed out, leaving Aaron sitting in the passengerseat, frozen by the tension. But he scrambled to follow, and felt like he was walking on eggshells, desperate not to break the fragile peace. It reminded him of when he used to follow Kenny in the shadows, watching him from a distance, unseen. His heart thumped.

Kenny unlocked the front door and pushed it open. For a second, Aaron thought Kenny might tell him to leave, go back to his room and stay out of his way, or shut the door on him as if not remembering he was even there. But Kenny said nothing, holding the door open, expression unreadable. So Aaron stepped inside.

The door closed, and the air crackled with whatever Kenny wasn’t saying. Aaron’s chest rose and fell as he waited, not daring to make a move, not daring to break whatever unspoken thread held them together. Then, as Kenny finally turned, silence deafening, he headed for the stairs, unfastening his shirt button as he ascended. He didn’t hurry, but there was an edge to him. A tension in his shoulders. A heaviness in every step.

Aaron unlaced his boots and kicked them off, the dull thud against the floor breaking the quiet. He then bolted up the stairs, pulse thundering in his ears, and by the time he reached Kenny’s room, Kenny was shrugging out of his shirt, the fabric slipping from his shoulders. That shouldn’t have made Aaron’s stomach twist. But it did. And as Kenny pulled his shirttails free from his chinos, his gaze locked onto Aaron with a look that stopped him in his tracks. Aaron felt as if he was being undressed just standing there, as though Kenny could see every dark corner of him, every crack he’d tried to plaster over.

His mouth went dry.

Aaron ripped off his jumper, and his chest heaved.God, he wanted this man. Wanted him in ways that felt primal, aching, impossible to ignore. He wanted Kenny to take him apart piece by piece. To destroy him. Then rebuild him. And consume every part of him until there was nothing left. His knees felt weak.Hands trembled. And he stood there, not just wanting Kenny to touch him, but wanting him under his skin. To dig his nails into every part of him.Burnwith him.

He’d never felt this before.

Never wanted someone this much.

Never felt so close tofalling apart.

Kenny’s hands were on him, dragging down his joggers and underwear, stripping him bare and Aaron was already hard, already desperate, and Kenny noticed. He kissed him, and Aaron thought he might explode there and then. But Kenny, ever intuitive, didn’t let him. He pulled away from the kiss, guiding Aaron over to the bed and laid him down.

“Touch yourself,” Kenny said, almost a growl.

Aaron shimmied to lay himself out, then wrapped his hand around his erection. He stroked. Eyes on Kenny as he watched from the foot of the bed shredding the rest of his clothes to stand there fully naked, cock hard and enticing. Kenny’s gaze burned into his skin like a brand and every movement, every breath, every brush of his fingers against his own body, amplified under Kenny’s watchful intensity. And when he tightened his grip around his length, the sensation was electric, but it was nothing compared to the raw, magnetic pull ofthose eyeson him. Kenny didn’t touch him. Didn’tspeak. He didn’t need to. His presence alone was enough to send a shiver down Aaron’s spine, every nerve ending alive with anticipation.

There was power in it.Vulnerabilitytoo. Every slow stroke was a silent offering, an invitation Aaron wasn’t sure he was ready to give but couldn’t stop himself from wanting. His chest tightened, pleasure twisting with something deeper. Need. Craving. A pureacheto be seen and understood.

Kennysawhim.

Every broken piece. Every flicker of desire. Every unspoken plea.

Aaron’s breath hitched as their eyes locked, heat flooding through him. This wasn’t just lust. It wassurrender.

“Slower,” Kenny commanded, his voice a husky rumble as he drifted over to the bedside table, opening a drawer and removed a tube of lube. He squeezed the liquid onto Aaron’s dick and hands, and Aaron moistened himself while Kenny returned to the foot of the bed, slicking up his own pulsing length. “Faster.”

Aaron obliged, arching his back, groaning at his own pleasure and how it had Kenny greedily watching, jerking himself off in perfect rhythm. Then Kenny crawled onto the bed, still palming himself, straddling Aaron’s thighs like a man completely undone.

He leaned down, breath scorching against Aaron’s ear. “I swear to god, you ruin me just by existing.”

He then roamed his slick hands over Aaron’s chest, gliding his fingers over his skin as if he needed to memorise every inch. Nails scratched lightly, dragging goosebumps from Aaron in their wake. Then he pinched Aaron’s nipple piercing, harder this time, and Aaron gasped, hips snapping up to meet the weight of Kenny’s body.

“Fuck,” Kenny rasped, as if the words had been dragged from somewhere deep. “You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”

If it was even half as much as what Kenny did to him, Aaronknew. Every nerve in his body screamed it. But he didn’t need to say a word. His body was already answering. And with his hand wrapped around himself, desperate and needy, he surged forward to capture Kenny’s lips.

“Uh-uh.” Kenny shifted back, just out of reach. Eyes dark. Breath uneven. “You ask for it.”

That was the thing with Kenny. Even in moments like this—when desire unravelled every thought—he made Aaronwantto beg.

“Kiss me,” Aaron plead, balls agonisingly tight.

Kenny smiled, a cruel, beautiful smile. “Good boy.”

He then wrapped his hand around Aaron’s throat, adding pressure, the way he’d done on that first night in the back room, and kissed him. Aaron fluttered his eyes closed, arching into Kenny’s touch, wanting him to squeeze harder, to stop him from breathing. Because he didn’t need air. Not when he had Kenny. Like this. Claiming him.

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