Page 53 of Honey, Honey
My mouth fell open. “What?”
Law put a hand beside my thigh and moved forward until he was leaning towards me, lips only inches away from my face. “You are done lying to me, Honey. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” I whispered before I could think better of it. “I understand.”
“Good girl.”
“I shouldn’t like it... but I really,reallylike it when you say that to me.”
He smirked, eyes dropping to my mouth before he looked back up at me. “I know.”
A finger of pleasure sparked in me and slowly, but surely, I felt my lust start to wake up. “What do you want from me, Law?”
“I want to know why they want us together.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know why. Same as you,” I told him, softly.
“Then I want to stick close to you until I figure it out.” He held out his hand to me, palm up, fingers open and waiting for me to touch him if I wanted. “What do you want?” he asked.
I stared down at his hand, the mug of tea in my hands suddenly feeling ice cold from the heat that was now rising to the surface of my skin. I was heating up, every part of me on fire and that was all from Law giving me his hand. What would I do when he had his hands on me? My heart skipped a beat, because I already knew the answer to that. I would fall apart, piece by piece, part by part, letting each and every fracture fall into his waiting hands.
There was no world in which I would not fall to pieces under Lawson Sokolov’s hands.
“I want that too,” I told him, slipping my hand into his.
Chapter Seventeen
LAW
She was fierce even when she was tired. Even when she was embarrassed and hurt, or confused. Honey was fierce in a way that I had seldom seen in people with far more power than she had. Not that it mattered. She took what she had and she wore with the grace of a Queen in command of herself. I could see the unbreakable parts of her, the parts made of steel that had her holding her head high and which let her walk through her every day as if she were untouchable.
She was plenty touchable, breakable, and every other-able there was that meant fragile. It didn’t stop her her one fucking bit. I watched her where she sat sipping her mug of tea, eyes back on that fucking painting. I wanted to throw it out into the hallway so that she would be forced to look at me. I wanted her attention. All of it. I was hungry for it, and I knew that was bad.
Bad for me. Bad for her. Bad for the fucking both of us.
I was jealous of a goddam painting. What the hell did that say about us going forward? Probably nothing good.
“We have to negotiate, Honey.”
Her eyes were on me then. “Negotiate what?”
“Us,” I said, and watched her eyes go round as saucers.
“Us?” She whispered, the confusion in her voice ringing clear as a bell through the room. “What do we have to talk about? There is no us.”
“You just said you wanted to stick with me until we figured out why Zeus and Connie are trying to shove us together,” I reminded her. I looked down at my hand, my beaten to hell hand that had done more violence than anything else. Softness and beauty were things I didn’t touch. But when Honey had put her hand in mine?
God. That had been all beauty.
And when I’d had my hands on Honey in her apartment the night before? Fucking bliss. I’d left because I wanted to keep her safe from me, because I knew that if I kept on touching her, let her put her hands on me, that we would have a big fucking problem. Because the second Honey touched me is the second she was mine.
When she had put her hand in mine she’d sealed her fate without even knowing it. I wasn’t going to let her go after tonight. Sure, she was mine by order of Connie, but this was going to go beyond that. I was done keeping myself from what I wanted, and what I wanted as her.
“I remember,” she said, eyes dropping back to her mug of tea. “I just don’t get why you want there to be an ‘Us’. You said it yourself–it doesn't make sense why Zeus would want us together. Why would you be saddled with a‘traveling barista’.”
I grimaced at the way she said the last two words. It sounded dirty, like something you didn’t mention and not a job to be proud of. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just naming your job because I don’t know anything else about you.”
Her dark brows drew together and she looked up at me. “I guess that’s true…” She said, voice uncertain and I knew I had an in there. I wasn’t lying to her. I’d just told her there would be no more lying and that rule applied to us both.
