Honey Flava

  As her heart raced, Trisha could only nod.

  “You look gorgeous.”

  “Fifth time,” Trisha said as they walked toward his town house a few blocks away from the downtown hotel where the reception had been.

  “I know I keep saying it, but you’ll just have to get used to it.” Brett grinned when she chuckled shyly. “I can’t believe you wanted to walk.”

  “It’s a beautiful, warm night.”

  “I wasn’t worried about the weather so much as I was about your feet in those stilettos. They must be at least four inches.”

  “How do you know?”

  Brett herded her toward his front door and trapped her against it. “I know because you fit my body better, and it’s easier to do this.” He bent his head and hungrily took her lips with his, his tongue sneaking out to cut a wide path through her mouth.

  Trisha whimpered in the back of her throat and sucked him in hard. Her arms went around his neck and she lifted a leg to wrap around his waist.

  He pushed against her, slamming her hard against the door while he ate at her mouth, using tongue and teeth. He felt the sultry heat of her pussy as she rubbed against him, begging for fulfillment, and lifting her other leg, he wrapped it around his waist so that she was straddling him fully, her heat encompassing him now. Her vagina was drenched and leaking its juices to wet her panties, tantalizing him enough to caress and finger her through the satin.

  “Oh, God, Brett,” Trisha panted. It felt so good. “Let’s go insi—oh, oh, ohhhh!” He’d slid two fingers beneath her panties and into her slick opening. Her muscles clenched around them, making greedy, wet, suckling sounds as she rode the fingers furiously, pumping her hips and tightening her muscles to keep them inside. “Please, Brett, I ache,” she sobbed out.

  “Hold on tight,” he told her as he pulled his fingers out. “Hush, baby,” he soothed, and kissed her lips when she mewled her disappointment. He unzipped his pants and, bracing himself with a hand against the door, ripped her panties away.

  The cool air against her hot flesh sent shivers coursing through Trisha’s body, making her tighten her legs and arms even more. “Here, Brett? What about your neighbors?”

  “It’s one in the morning. If someone’s watching, fuck them,” he groaned just before he plunged inside.

  Trisha screamed, the sound bouncing through the night air as she threw her head back. He pounded into her, his thick penis gliding easily in and out and stretching her almost to pain. Each time he thrust into her, slamming her back against the door, a cry of pure joy escaped her mouth.

  She dug her nails into his shoulders trying to gain some semblance of control over the heat, the pleasure…her mind. The sheer ferocity of the pleasure blew through her, making her lose her grip on her sanity. The faster he thrust, the more she wanted. “Yes, Brett, yes!” She couldn’t take it anymore and pressed her mouth into his shoulder to muffle her screams right before she exploded around him.

  Brett’s strokes were bruising as he rushed toward his own orgasm, pounding her repeatedly against the door. Trisha loved the animalistic side of him and reveled in a new wave of arousal. She pulled her bodice down to feed him a nipple. “Bite it, Brett.” The pinprick of pain went straight to her clit, and she closed her eyes at the renewed pleasure.

  “Fuck me, baby,” she begged when he began to yell out his release and push more forcefully into her. “Fuck me!” She reached between them to finger her clit and squeeze his dick, her hand slippery with their combined cum as it slid from her to drip onto his thighs.

  Hours later in his bed, Trisha moaned in her sleep, the tongue working at her clit bringing her forcefully out of her dreams. She lifted up to see Brett’s head buried between her thighs. Her hands went to the back of his head and she pushed at it, simultaneously grinding her pussy into his face.

  Brett bit lightly at her clitoris and lapped up the salty juices that gushed from her body. Needing more, he put his hands beneath her ass, lifted her to his face, and fed. She shrieked, her shaking thighs tightening around his head. He lay on top of her and drove his cock into her streaming labia just as the first wave of her orgasm rocketed through her.

  “Behave, Brett,” Trisha whispered. She stood in front of him watching the Double Ten Parade. He’d just slipped a hand under her short skirt to caress her butt. “People will see.” Even so, she wantonly ground her behind against the erection in his jeans.

  “No one’s paying attention,” he teased in her ear, chuckling when the thunderous applause for the lion dancers made her jump guiltily. “But you said you wanted to talk, so let’s find some privacy.”

  They walked away from the crowd. “I’ve called Aunt Pearl,” Trisha told him.

  “Really?” Brett said in surprise. “And why would you do that?”

  “You just have to make me say it, don’t you?” she accused, and tried not to smile when he grinned unrepentantly. “You were right about my being afraid of rejection. But I realize now that I have to try to find my biological family.”

  “And what about moving?”

  Trisha groaned. “One step at a time, Brett.”

  “Okay. Wanna celebrate this momentous occasion?”

  She cocked her head. “What’d you have in mind?”

  He cupped a breast. “I was thinking…” His fingers pinched her nipple.

  “Brett!”

  He ignored her halfhearted protest and continued, “…that I could take you to my parents’ party later.”

  “The parade and the party? What gives?”

  He shrugged. “I decided that I could appreciate my culture without getting lost in it.”

  “Really? Good f-for you…” Trisha barely got it out. His hand was under her skirt again, tracing circles on her inner thigh.

  Brett reluctantly removed his hand. He’d actually felt her heat and hadn’t even touched the hot spot yet. “Let’s hope this will make you as happy as my sudden realization has.” He gave her a small cardboard box.

  Surprised, and more than a little horny, Trisha pulled off the lid. “It’s beautiful.” It was a small, gold globe. “Oh, Brett, you’re giving me the world,” she choked out as realization dawned.

  “Let’s see it together.”

  Trisha was stunned. “But what about your parents? What will they—?”

  “Don’t worry about them. I’ve never been traditional, and they know it.”

  She launched herself at him.

  He caught her, laughing when she buried her face in his neck. “Should I take that as a yes?” He nuzzled the top of her head when she nodded. “Are you wearing panties?”

  Rendered mute by happiness, and so wet that she was practically dripping, Trisha shook her head no.

  “No?” His hand slid beneath her leotard. “God, baby,” he growled as his fingers slid across her slick wetness. “Is this all for me?”

  She helplessly burrowed closer, licking his neck. “Wo yuan yi cheng gui da diao,” she purred.

  Brett lifted a brow at the dirty talk. “Ah…so size really does matter, huh?” He pushed a finger into her opening and swirled it around. “And we have another yes,” he teased when she cried out.

  Prince of Roses

  S. J. FROST

  HIDEKI GLARED DOWN AT the polished dark-wood bar and took a sip of his water, hoping it would help cool his annoyance. As Club Platinum’s number one host, he had yet to engage any of the female clientele since one of his regulars had contacted him earlier saying she would be in and not to get occupied with anyone else. Seeing that it was now one o’clock, and she normally arrived by midnight, it looked like he had wasted his time waiting for her, which could have been spent earning the club money and boosting his commission. This was the exact reason he laughed whenever anyone said how lucky he was to be such a popular host. He knew what it was like to be at the bottom of the host-club food chain, scrubbing the toilets, catering to the top hosts, pounding the streets in all weather trying to coerce women to come into the club. H
ard work, brains, and tenacity had gotten him where he was, not luck.

  A pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders and a forlorn sigh wisped past his ear.

  “Let another one get away, eh, Eiji-kun?” Hideki said.

  The younger host laid his head against the back of Hideki’s. “I tried to use your trick of pouring her champagne while whispering sweet things in her ear, but I overpoured and some dribbled on her leg. She got irritated and left.”

  “As she should. She shouldn’t have to waste her time and money on so clumsy a host.”

  Eiji plopped down on the barstool next to him. “You’re so mean to me, Ouji-sama.”

  Hideki smiled at him. Eiji always addressed him by a shorter version of his full nickname, Bara no Ouji-sama. Bara for the white rose he always wore on his suit jacket, Ouji-sama for his princelike charm and sophistication.

  Eiji nudged Hideki and pointed toward the door. “Why can’t I get a client that looks like that?”

  Hideki followed Eiji’s finger to the two stunning women speaking with his manager, his eyes locking on the one who had her long hair dyed deep mahogany and styled with a slight wave. He moved his gaze to her high-heeled, black leather boots hugging her calves, then to her thighs, which were less than half-covered by the black miniskirt. His vision graced higher to her slender hips, and he couldn’t help but think of what beautifully formed handholds they would be if he were to take her from behind.

  Hideki chuckled inside. It had been a long time since he had thought about a woman like that, and he wasn’t even done scrutinizing her yet. He continued his visual trek up to her torso, clothed in a black mesh blouse over a black silken camisole that stretched across her small, round breasts. His eyes floated up her throat to her delicate jaw, lingering for two breaths on her lips. As he looked higher, his eyes locked with hers, and he realized that as he had been studying her, she had been doing the same to him. He smiled and inclined his head in acknowledgment.

  Before she could respond, her companion tapped her arm.

  “Onee-chan, pay attention. The manager is asking if we’d like to see the available hosts.”

  Natsumi broke her stare with the gorgeous man at the bar and looked to her sister. “I don’t know what I find more disconcerting: that my little sister knows more about host clubs these days than I do, or that this isn’t her first visit to Kabukicho.”

  Keiko giggled and shrugged. “I grew up in the time you were gone.”

  Natsumi gazed at her. It was true. This young woman preparing to enter college in the spring looked so different from the schoolgirl Keiko had been when Natsumi saw her last, but she was no longer the same person either. Her time in the States had changed her. Seven years, all devoted to education, work, and the man she believed had been her soul mate, but she had been proven wrong by Michael’s admittance of his affair with another woman. Now she had returned home to Tokyo carrying the burden of a significant divorce settlement that she didn’t want, and what better way to get rid of it than by blowing it on the company of a beautiful man.

  Natsumi faced the manager. “I’ll take your number one if he’s available.”

  “Nishikawa-san will be pleased to entertain you this evening,” the manager said, and moved to get a lineup of the other unoccupied hosts.

  Natsumi watched as Keiko selected an energetic young host named Eiji, his black hair dyed blond at the tips and sticking out at wild angles. Her attention shifted from them to the exquisite man walking with measured grace toward her.

  His black hair was layered, falling to the bottom of his neck in back and parted slightly to the right with a silken cluster of bangs falling close to his left eye. His elegant cheekbones swept high, revealing his refined bone structure, which had features soft and captivating. She caught sight of the white rose on the left breast of his black jacket, which he wore over a white dress shirt, the top few buttons of the shirt undone to show a hint of smooth, defined chest. Her eyes drifted lower, taking in his narrow hips, the thought passing through her mind that they were a perfect fit for her body. She raised her eyes, meeting his with an unwavering stare.

  Hideki bowed to her. “I’m Nishikawa Hideki. It’s a pleasure to be able to share the evening with you.”

  Natsumi bowed slightly deeper, absorbing his rich baritone, which sent a surge of warmth through her. “And with you, Nishikawa-san. I’m Tanaka Natsumi.”

  “Please, call me Hideki,” he said, guiding her to a burgundy leather sofa tucked back in a corner.

  He sat down beside her, making sure to not crowd her, but staying close enough that she’d be able to feel his body warmth and smell his cologne. Keiko took a seat on Natsumi’s other side, and Eiji beside her. Hideki noted the enthusiasm with which the two were talking and hoped Eiji had finally found a customer who thought his hyper ways endearing rather than wearisome. He brought his eyes back to Natsumi, flashed his most charming smile, and handed her a menu of drinks.

  She glanced over the menu, turned to the waiter, and ordered a bottle of expensive chardonnay.

  Hideki watched her with an amused grin. “You’re a very confident and bold woman, aren’t you Natsumi-san?”

  Natsumi looked at him. “No, not at all.”

  “Then, forgive me if this sounds rude, but I always strive for honesty; perhaps you’re a bit uptight?”

  Natsumi let out an indignant snort. “I didn’t think honesty was a prevalent quality in your line of work with how hosts spin lies to flatter women, Hideki-san.”

  “That’s how some hosts work, but not me. There are more ways to flatter people than being deceitful.” Hideki chuckled softly. “And for me, lying is too challenging because I’m very forgetful, so it’s safer to be honest.”

  Natsumi stared at him, amazed at the juxtaposition of seduction and innocence he balanced. Her eyes lingered on the bit of his exposed chest, her heartbeat quickening. She slowly lifted her stare to his penetrating gaze, which caused a warm throb to pulse between her legs.

  A waiter stepped forward to deliver the bottle of wine.

  Hideki took the bottle and poured, keeping his eyes on hers, timing it in his head as he spoke to know when to stop. “Are you married, have a boyfriend, a lesbian lover?”

  Natsumi laughed and took the glass he offered. “None. I just got divorced and returned home from living in the States. I moved there when I was twenty for college.”

  Hideki’s mind lit at the information. That would explain her tense air. Well, she might not be ready to release whatever restrictions she had put on herself, but he knew he could break them down. He reclined one arm across the back of the couch behind her.

  “It’s my dream to move to America someday. English was my major in college, though I dropped out. I’ve thought about going back, but I think I’m too old now.”

  Natsumi shot him a doubtful look. “How old are you?”

  “I just turned twenty-four.” He grinned at her. “You look surprised.”

  “No, but I don’t usually date younger men.”

  Hideki’s innocent smile shifted to sly. “I didn’t realize we were dating.”

  Natsumi clenched her glass, fixing him with a sharp glare. “Listen, pretty boy, I can see why you’re such a good host, but I’m not a fool, so spare me the delusion that you’d make an ideal boyfriend. I don’t want a relationship, and we both know that you’re no prince, so let’s keep things professional.”

  Hideki laughed under his breath. “That’s fine. But you’re the one who said we were dating, not me.”

  Natsumi looked away, embarrassment heating her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this sort of thing yet.”

  “Then leave everything to me.” He leaned close to her ear, taking a strand of her hair and wrapping it loosely around his index finger. “But, I will have to behave very unprofessionally.”

  Natsumi swallowed hard, her heart pounding faster than she could breathe. A voice in the back of her head reminded her that Keiko was sitting beside her and
she shouldn’t be acting like this in front of her. She pulled her hair out of his hand and stood, tapping Keiko on the arm. “We’re leaving.”

  Keiko looked up at her, confused. “What? Why?”

  “Because I promised Ryota we’d visit him at his club. Remember?”

  Keiko sighed and nodded, reluctantly rising to her feet.

  Hideki stepped to Natsumi’s side. “I’m jealous that you leave me so soon.” He walked her to the door, gave the club a discreet glance, and slipped his business card into her hand. “Perhaps after you visit your friend, you’d like to meet me away from the club. Feel free to call my personal cell.”

  Natsumi didn’t acknowledge his suggestive tone and walked away with Keiko.

  Eiji tossed his arm around Hideki’s shoulders. “Did you secure yourself another regular?”

  Hideki smiled and shook his head. “This one is not client material.”

  Natsumi took in a shaking breath. She hadn’t been in a love hotel since she was seventeen and couldn’t believe she was in one now. She knocked softly on the hotel room door, and as she lowered her hand, it opened. At the sight of a shirtless Hideki, her desire pushed her nervousness into nothingness.

  Hideki stepped back to let her in. “I’m glad you called.”

  Natsumi walked in and removed her boots. “I’m glad you wanted me to.”

  She stepped into the room. Hideki grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him, covering her mouth in a rough kiss. He swept her up, carried her to the bed, and dropped her down, bringing himself down on top of her.

  Natsumi drew in a fast breath, trying to catch what she’d lost from Hideki’s intense passion, only to have it stolen as he delivered another deep kiss. He slid his hand over her breasts to the bottom of her shirt, slipping underneath and rubbing across her stomach. Natsumi broke the kiss with a soft gasp, arching up toward his heated touch.