Page 98 of Almost Ravaged

“Why is it lucky that they called?”

I pull a face. “If someone else had found them, they might have used an insecticide to kill them off.”

“No,” Sawyer breathes. “Why the hell would they do that?”

Her outrage makes me smile. My gut told me she’d be into this. She’s kneeling on the ground with me, right up in it, completely engrossed.

“Because most humans are busy. Impatient. Egocentric and narrow-minded.”

She hums in agreement.

“Thankfully,” I go on, “a lot of people around here know to at least try to call if they’ve got a bee problem.”

“So you’re the notorious Bee Daddy around this town?” She grins at me, her eyes dancing with mischief.

The playful jab lands and drips down my spine like warm honey.

Bee Daddy? Fuck. Why do I like the sound of that so much?

I shake my head, mentally scolding myself again, and clear my throat. “Often times,” I say, offering more details rather than obsessing over her comment, “when I show up, I find yellow jackets or a hornet nest. It’s actually pretty rare for me to find honeybees that need to be saved like these gals.”

I scoop another handful of bees, being sure not to touch the sides of the box.

“When I got this call, I removed as much of the honeycomb as I could and put it in here.” I nod at the transport hive. “Then I located the queen, clipped her, and added her as well. I gave the bees a full night to move into the transport, then, yesterday, I brought it out here to let them acclimate.”

Sawyer gets really close with her camera, recording a worker bee as it prepares to take flight. She squints, intent on the insect’s movements, and I swear she holds her breath until the subject takes off. “Couldn’t they just build a new hive after you transported them?”

I pull out one of the supers and show her how I arranged and secured chunks of honeycomb in the frame.

“They worked hard to create all this. It’s their food and their future. This section is all capped brood, meaning it’s filled with babies. Other chunks are filled with honey.”

“Honey-honey? Or does it have to be processed before it’s edible?”

I grin, already anticipating her reaction.

“It’s edible. Here,” I pull an empty piece of honeycomb from the frame and examine it to ensure there are no bees or any bits of brood on the end. Then I hold it out to her, letting the sweet golden goodness drip from a broken edge. “Try it for yourself.”

Sawyer frowns thoughtfully as she looks from me to the honeycomb.

“I can’t eat that,” she says with a shaky laugh.

“Sure you can. Don’t let the wax or the comb get in the way.” I keep the piece steady for her.

She gnaws on her bottom lip, her eyes darting from me to the comb and back again.

Fuck. What I wouldn’t give to coat her plush, pouty mouth in honey then lick it right off.

“You can do it,” I encourage, my voice thick and husky. “Just put your mouth on the edge and suck.”

Her nostrils flare, and the little gasp that slips past her lips has my dick jerking.

Without any more encouragement, she tucks her hair behind her ears and lowers her mouth to the honeycomb.

My lungs fail, making it impossible to breathe as she watches me from beneath hooded lids, those light brown eyes just a shade or two darker than the honey, and closes her lips around the comb.

When she sucks, I grip tighter to keep from losing my hold.

Her eyes shutter closed, and the satisfied hum that follows sends arousal flooding through my core.