Page 41 of Run For Your Honey

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Ignoring it feels like a mistake.”

“You aren’t the only one with everything riding on this election. My future depends on this. If I don’t perform, if I don’t win, they’ll move on to someone who will. So I don’t want to talk about the election. Because I’m not quitting and neither are you.”

“Another impasse. We’re good at that.”

“I don’t know… there are a few things we can agree on,” I noted.

One corner of her lips rose. “Yes, a few.” She shifted closer to me. “So all of this is what… for old time’s sake?”

“You tell me. You’re the one who keeps kissing me.” I swept her hair over her shoulder and cupped her jaw.

“It’s become a real problem.”

I leaned into her, my lips hovering over hers. “Think we can get it out of our systems?”

“I don’t know, but we can try.”

The gap closed with little more than a breath, our lips meeting in the dark, beneath the stars. I thought it would be different now that we were older. But one brush of her lips and I was eighteen again. Not a day had passed between us, but what felt like a whole lifetime had gone by. Time made no sense when she was in my arms. In fact, almost nothing did except me and her.

I gathered her up, pulled her into my lap, and she moved to straddle me on her knees, holding my face with both hands as she kissed me deep. I took the opportunity to touch her like I’d wanted to so badly. Not the frantic release, strung tight by all the years between us, but a slow slide of my hands up her thighs. Her dress hung on my wrists as they rose, my hands memorizing the shape of her body. The curve of her naked hips, the dip of her waist. As my hungry hands tasted her skin, her fingers worked to unfasten the buttons of my shirt, slipping it over my shoulders and to the ground. She broke the kiss, looking down at me breathlessly, and I closed my arms around her, pulling her into my chest.

Her hair fell around us when she descended to kiss me again, but on her knees, I was keenly aware of the proximity of her breasts. The stroke of one, the cup and squeeze when my palm was full, wasn’t enough. My lips moved from hers to the swell, to her peaked nipple, closing my mouth over it through the thin fabric of her dress. She held me there with her arms around my neck and fingers in my hair, the sound of her noisy breath quickening my own. I slid the straps of her dress over the curves of her shoulder, letting the bodice fall to her waist.

The heat of her bare skin against mine was too much to bear, a wild streak of fever tearing through me. Down her chest I kissed, to her ribs, lower. I gathered up her skirt until she was bared to me, held the fabric so I could watch my fingers trace the rippling flesh, slick and circling, sliding into her until I disappeared. Her moan was accompanied by a flex around my finger that drew me deeper, and my aching cock begged for its turn.

I moved between her thighs, and she made room for me until my lips could reach her, taste the salt of her, trace every inch with my tongue. She hissed at the contact, hinging to lay her palms on the blanket. Her legs spread wider until I could rest my head, my hands, my mouth full of her. I could see nothing outside of the curtain of her skirt, glowing gold in the lamplight as I took my pleasure. I latched onto her swollen clit, swaying my head gently until her thighs trembled, her hips rolling. And she came there against my tongue, by my fingers that knew her, by my lips that knew her body with all the certainty of a cartographer.

She sagged for a moment, then shimmied down my body, taking my lips as soon as she could reach them. Her hands roamed my chest, my abs, down to my belt, and only then did she break the kiss, taking her turn with me. She settled herself between my thighs, her eyes on her task as she freed me with a sigh. Taking me in both hands, she stroked me, bringing my crown to her lips, then to her tongue. My eyes slammed shut, a hiss through my teeth when she took my tip into her hot mouth and let go of a moan that vibrated down my shaft. When I pried my eyes open again, it was to watch, her eyes closed, chest bare, ass in the air behind her, dress still hanging from her waist. I disappeared into her mouth, watched her lips drag when she retreated.

---