Page 16 of Kiss Me Honey Honey (To Love a Psycho #2)

Chapter fiftee n

Then He Kissed Me

Aaron shivered.

Sure, it was cold. November’s bite had sunk its teeth into the air, and the encroaching darkness wrapped around him like a wet, suffocating mantle. But that wasn’t why he trembled. The weather was an excuse. Something external to blame.

Fucking feelings .

He hated emotions. How they seeped into his body like poison, worming under his skin, into his chest, and had him trembling like some fragile thing on the verge of a breakdown. Why should he even care? He didn’t. Not for him. Obviously. Because who the fuck was he ? Why did he matter? He didn’t. And he felt like a massive twat for not seeing the signs earlier. For, once again, thinking he was impervious.

Fuck.

Taylor sure had fucked him now.

He clenched his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms. A surefire way to block out the shit through actual, physical pain. Not today, though. No matter how hard he tried to lock his body into stillness, the tremors got worse, and his frustration spiralled, feeding the storm raging inside .

Danger zone.

Burying his head in his knees, he curled into himself on the cold stone doorstep and did what Dr Riley had taught him during their sessions when he had these so-called panic attacks. As if some clinical label could strip them of their power. She’d explained the science of it, the whole fight-or-flight thing. And he was usually a fighter. Having been in more than a few scraps in his time because he couldn’t control what was happening to him. Lashing out, pushing back, staying upright no matter what was his forte. But now? His fight was gone. Leaving only a desperate need to flee .

Maybe it was because he now had somewhere he could flee to.

And so he was, once again, back here, pressing his forehead to his knees, forcing the world to shrink to nothing and focusing on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. But each inhale scraped his lungs, and each exhale left him emptier than before. He tried counting backwards in threes, like Dr Riley taught him, but maths hadn’t ever been his strong point, so he stuck to twos instead. Didn’t help. The lyrics from his next-door neighbour’s latest grime track drifted into his mind, a song he’d heard so many times through the walls he could recite it in his sleep. He mouthed a few words, but the lyrics pissed him off with their relentless pursuit of unwarranted angst. So he switched to something softer. Something that felt like comfort. Like home .

“ Dream a little dream of me… ”

The words faltered on his tongue as his mother’s voice echoed in his mind. That certainly wouldn’t help. Made it worse . Stirring memories he tried so desperately to bury. And besides, this was all her fault .

Then—headlights.

Harsh and sudden. The brightness seared into his closed eyes, cutting through the darkness like a beacon, and he shot his head up, heart jolting as the familiar gold Land Rover Discovery screeched onto the driveway, tyres crunching on gravel. He blinked, momentarily blinded by the lights, but he didn’t need to see who it was and he clutched the fabric of his jeans, caught between relief and dread.

Coming here might be the biggest mistake of his life.

Kenny would know . He’d piece it together in seconds. Aaron had ransacked his office, dug through his private files, and inadvertently let Taylor see something he shouldn’t have seen. Child A. That name, that dark legacy, now splattered across the media like blood on snow. And it was all Aaron’s fault. Because he’d been so stupid as to look for something he should have left buried.

It wasn’t just him at risk here, though. It was Kenny. His reputation, his integrity, his career. All of it teetered on the edge because Aaron had betrayed his trust. And yet, despite the guilt clawing at his insides, he couldn’t help but come here to seek solace. To want his comfort and protection. Because, despite everything, Kenny had become his safety net.

As the Discovery rolled to a halt, Aaron’s stomach twisted so tight he thought he might vomit. The headlights dimmed, and the engine cut out. A long, suffocating silence followed, the kind that stretched time and magnified every second. Then Kenny stepped out of the car and their eyes met across the dimly lit porch. Aaron’s heart lurched. He should say sorry. Apologise for ruining his life. Ask for his forgiveness. Not to appease his guilt, but to make amends to Kenny. Because even though he pretended he didn’t care, it was all a lie. He cared about Kenny.

Way more than he should. And way more than he expected to.

Aaron opened his mouth to speak, the apology clawing its way up his throat, but Kenny beat him to it.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Kenny strode toward him and Aaron barely had time to process the words before Kenny was there, cupping his face in both hands. “Are you okay? ”

Aaron’s guilt doubled as he took in the worry etched into Kenny’s face. The lines, the slight crease between his brows. They weren’t about Kenny’s reputation. Nor were they disappointment in him. Or the frustration that Aaron had once again brought his shit to his doorstep. They were for him. There wasn’t a chance Aaron could resist leaning into that. Taking it for himself, even though he didn’t deserve it. He’d never had someone care for him. To check on him. It was addictive.

“I’m fine,” Aaron lied.

Kenny didn’t need his years of psychology to decipher the fib.

“I just…needed somewhere to be that wasn’t…there.”

Kenny curled a hand around the back of Aaron’s neck, fingers ghosting over his skin. “Get inside.” He then guided him around, opened the door, and let Aaron step into the house first.

The door closed behind them with a heavy click and Aaron felt himself sag, the tension melting away as he crossed the threshold. This wasn’t just a house. It was safety.

Not the walls. Not the roof. Not the locked door.

Kenny .

But the moment cracked like glass under pressure, and Aaron spun to face him, words tumbling out before he could stop them. “If you’re expecting Heather, I can—”

“I’m not with Heather.” Kenny cut through Aaron’s hesitation like a sledgehammer.

Aaron blinked. “You’re not?”

“No.” Kenny tossed his keys into the dish by the door. “If you’d answered your fucking phone, I would have told you.”

Aaron’s mind reeled. “But…she was here.”

“She was asking for advice. Alice is seeing Dr Riley, and she wanted a professional opinion on how the sessions were going.”

Aaron swallowed hard, throat dry, thoughts scrambling for purchase. “Oh.”

Kenny stepped closer, the warmth of his presence pulling Aaron in, steadying him. “I don’t know why you would think anyone else has more of a hold on me than you do.”

Aaron wanted to give in to his sudden racing heart, but so used to disappointment, he searched Kenny’s face, desperate for clarity. Because he couldn’t mean what Aaron was hoping for. What he desperately and uncharacteristically yearned for? Was Kenny finally giving in? Admitting this could be something? He couldn’t be. There was too much against them. Too much at stake for Kenny. How could he even entertain the thought that there was more between them than one unexpected, reckless night of chance?

Aaron knew it hadn’t been a chance encounter, though.

But he’d never expected this . To feel so much. So hard. For it to feel as if Kenny had cut right through to his heart and carved his name on it. That night over a year ago had meant to be payback. For Aaron to feel smug and superior and have one over on Dr Kenneth Lyons, the man who’d ripped his life apart. Instead, he was like this . Begging for Kenny to give him the time of day.

Who’s the fool now?

But all he found in Kenny’s steadfast gaze was brutal honesty piercing through his defences and threatening to expose the feelings he refused to acknowledge. It was maddening— infuriating —how easily Kenny stripped him bare without a single word, leaving Aaron teetering on the edge of something he couldn’t quite bring himself to leap into.

“I’m a mess.” The words were foreign on Aaron’s tongue, as if speaking a language he hadn’t realised he knew.

“I know.” Kenny shrugged out of his coat, hanging it on the hook behind him, standing there in his three-piece suit, a pillar of respectability and authority. Such a contrast to him in tatty, ripped jeans and a hoodie. “Take those boots off and go sit in the living room. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Aaron nodded mutely, bending down to unlace his battered combat boots. He kicked them off and placed them beside the neatly arranged rows of Kenny’s polished brogues, sleek trainers, and sturdy boots, all lined up like soldiers on parade. He then padded into the front room and sank onto the sofa, running his hands through his hair as if trying to scrape away the fear clinging to him.

A moment later, soft music floated through the room, filling the space with delicate nostalgia. Kenny must have linked the jukebox in the dining room into the modern speakers as the familiar click of a vinyl record and slight hiss of static before the grainy, crooning voice of an old ballad singer filtered out. Aaron eased back into the seat, letting the music reach into his chest and untangle his knot of tension.

God . Kenny knew him.

Knew him better than he knew himself.

When Kenny returned, still dressed in his suit, tie slightly loosened but otherwise immaculate, he carried two glasses of whisky. The amber liquid caught the light as he handed one to Aaron, then settled onto the coffee table directly in front of him. The way Kenny perched there—close, calm, unreadable—made Aaron’s stomach clench. He’d seen Kenny sit like this before. When he’d walked in on him and Heather.

The thought punched the air out of his lungs. Was this it? Was this the part where Kenny explained, gently and carefully, that Aaron’s presence here—his presence in his life —was a mistake and one he had to rectify?

Aaron took a sip of whisky, the taste burning its way down his throat and he darted his gaze to Kenny, who seemed lost in thought, one hand slipping into the pocket of his trousers. When Kenny withdrew his hand, he pulled out a crumpled packet of cigarettes, the cardboard soft and faded.

“If you have to.” Kenny held them out to Aaron. “You can have these.”

“They look older than you, doc. ”

Kenny snorted. “Not quite. Might be older than you, though.”

“You used to smoke?”

“Yes. Started because of stress at around…fifteen. Developed into a habit by eighteen.”

“It’s like we’re twins.”

Kenny arched an eyebrow. “I quit at thirty-five. Hardest thing I’ve ever done. I kept this packet in a locked drawer as a sort of safety net. Knowing I could reach for them whenever I needed, made me not need them.”

“Does that work for all addictions?”

Kenny inhaled. “Sadly not.”

Aaron sipped on his whisky, eyes down and refusing to look at Kenny when he unpeeled his heart. “You saying that if I just had you to look at, like that, whenever I want, this deep craving for you wouldn’t go away?”

Kenny’s entire body seemed to rise from the table with his inhalation and he placed the cigarettes Aaron hadn’t taken beside him. “Actually, I think that would work for you. If I came too easy, your taste for me would dull.”

Kenny looked almost hurt by that admission, as if that was the reason he was keeping his distance. It was too much to bear. Because Kenny had no idea. Literally zero clue. So Aaron slammed back the whisky, following it up with a hiss and dropped his head back to the sofa.

“I don’t think you realise how bad I’ve got it for you, then.” He peered up at Kenny through hooded lashes, heart hammering with the anticipation of his reaction to what he was almost saying.

Kenny said nothing.

He didn’t believe him. Aaron didn’t blame him.

“I stopped doing Dr Riley’s homework,” Aaron said, shifting in his seat, eyes focusing on the reflections of the indented glass he twisted in his hands between his legs .

“I wouldn’t recommend that.”

“Not sure it was working.”

“Why not?”

“It was like I was making lists of all the shit that made me angry and it just made me angrier.”

“Like what?”

“Bunch of stupid shit. That no one listens to decent music anymore. I’m sick of the smell of Super Noodles. Hate laughter . How everyone’s so oblivious to what’s really going on in the world. And how I’m a mug for thinking Taylor was the safe bet.” Aaron swallowed the unrest before he dared continue. “But, funnily enough, what makes me the angriest is how the only thing that mitigates all of that, that makes me feel even a smidgen normal and that there’s any shred of hope for me, is when I’m with you. But I’m not allowed to be.”

Kenny didn’t speak.

After a moment of all-consuming silence, Kenny threw back the rest of his whisky, then set the glass on the table with a sharp clink. He raked a hand through his hair, shaking it loose, as though trying to shed the weight of everything. Then the music clicked over, the soft crackle of vinyl filling the silence before the next record spun into life. A delicate piano filtered out, notes lilting and wistful, tinged with a yearning wrapping around the room like a warm embrace. Gentle harmonies of backing vocals—soft, aching ooos —followed, and Aaron recognised the song immediately.

Paul Anka. Put Your Head on My Shoulder.

The music filled the space, tempering Aaron’s fears. But when Kenny stood and pushed the coffee table out of the way, scraping it over to the bay window, leaving the inviting fibres of the tufted rug stretching beside the fireplace, his heart stuttered.

Kenny extended his hand to him. “Dance with me.”

Aaron blinked, unsure, looking from Kenny’s outstretched hand to his face. But then, slowly, he set his empty glass down on the floor beside the sofa and slipped his hand into Kenny’s. When Kenny’s fingers closed around his, warm and firm, he dragged Aaron to his feet and the world outside the room dissolved.

Stepping closer, Kenny circled his arm around Aaron’s waist. Aaron hadn’t ever danced to a slow song with another man before, and it took an awkward moment to find a rhythm, but Aaron switched off his unease to stroke up Kenny’s neck, underneath his hair, and did as the song commanded. He rested his head on Kenny’s shoulder. And there, they swayed in synch to a song that might as well have been written for this moment.

The only difference was, Aaron had already fallen in love.

He knew he had. As brutally as he didn’t want to.

Kenny fisted the fabric of Aaron’s hoodie, as if he was desperate to keep him there, and Aaron closed his eyes, sinking into the moment. Into Kenny . It was so intimate; he didn’t know how to counter it. He never wanted to. And when Kenny’s fingers disappeared inside his top to ghost over his skin, Aaron couldn’t control how his heart leapt. Danced. Begged. Pleaded and broke all at once.

Kenny stroked his skin, circling his thumbs along the ridges of Aaron’s spine, and his soft, shallow breaths had Aaron tingling. He shivered. Trembled . Wanted Kenny to peel back his skin and see how his desperate, aching heart only beat for him. It was irrational. Ludicrous. Aaron hadn’t meant for this. Didn’t want it.

Yet, here he was. In Kenny’s arms.

Dancing with him to the music he called home .

Desperate to shed every layer he had, Aaron stepped back and stripped off his top, throwing it to the sofa. He then stood in front of Kenny revealed . For a moment, Kenny said nothing. He just raked his gaze over him, intense and languid, as though committing every inch to memory. Then he drew Aaron back into his arms, smoothing his hands up his bare spine with an intimacy that had Aaron’s knees threatening to buckle. Head spinning. Heart racing. And every inch of him buzzing with a desperate, unfiltered need.

Kenny dipped his head, hovering his mouth above the curve of Aaron’s neck. He inhaled and Aaron tilted his head instinctively, offering himself without hesitation. Kenny’s beard rasped his skin, grounding and electric all at once and he fluttered his eyes closed, clutching Kenny’s shoulders, digging his nails into the padded fabric of his suit jacket and… crumbled .

“How am I meant to resist you?” Kenny whispered into his ear.

Aaron was so close to Kenny he could see every fleck of colour in his eyes. “Don’t think you’re meant to, doc.”

The song faded, a soft click and whirr as the record changed to something else. Aaron didn’t know what it was, because all he could hear was the soft thuds of his heart and all he could see was Kenny’s resolve cracking under the strain of his stare.

“You ready for me to destroy your life yet?” Aaron said against Kenny’s lips.

Kenny didn’t flinch. Didn’t falter. He grasped Aaron to him, digging his fingers into Aaron’s back, and he finally, liberated and untamed, exhaled his consent with a stark and profound, “ Yeah .”

Aaron raked his fingers through Kenny’s hair, gripping the strands. “Then I should warn you…”

“About what?”

“How deep I’m in this.”

Kenny inhaled, sharp and fierce. “Then I warn you right back.”

A smile ghosted over Aaron’s lips, but Kenny wiped it away when he smoothed his mouth onto his. Just the mere touch had Aaron’s chest igniting, but then their lips moved fluidly together, opening and closing, tongues brushing, and soon the tentative softness made way for all consuming heat and passion .

It was a revelation . Kenny kissed him as if he needed him. As if he hadn’t wanted anything more in his life. As if he stopped, he might not breathe again. And he stole the air from Aaron’s lungs, the thoughts from his mind, unravelling everything Aaron thought he knew about himself. This wasn’t just a kiss. It was permission .

Permission to want. To need. To feel .

The kiss deepened, and Kenny’s hands were everywhere. Up Aaron’s back, tracing the curve of his spine, leaving a fire in its wake as every stroke of his fingers burned into Aaron’s skin. Aaron responded instinctively, arching into Kenny, tightening his grip on Kenny’s hair, mouths moving together in a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. And when Aaron closed the already non-existent space between them to get more, Kenny broke away just enough to plant biting kisses down Aaron’s jawline, tongue darting out to taste the inked lines of his tattoo.

Aaron shuddered, a deep, involuntary moan escaping his throat, and he dropped his hands to clutch Kenny’s shoulders as though he might fall apart.

“God,” he gasped, not even recognising his own voice filled with unrepentant longing. For this . Kenny .

For him never, ever to stop.

Stroking his hands down to Aaron’s waistband, Kenny paused, hovering just above the button of Aaron’s jeans, and he dipped away, eyes meeting Aaron’s with a question all but redundant.

Robbed of air, all Aaron could do was nod.

Kenny took the unspoken permission, unfastening his button and easing Aaron’s jeans down his hips. They pooled at his feet and Aaron kicked them off as Kenny’s breaths came hard and fast, peering down at the hardness poking his underwear. He was in a trance, unsure, so Aaron grabbed his neck, kissing him again, giving Kenny the drive to delve his hands inside his waistband, palms finding the smooth, heated skin of Aaron’s bare arse. Then, hooking his wrists, Kenny tugged the fabric away from his hips, and with one last pull, he hoisted down Aaron’s boxers, freeing his hard, throbbing cock to the air. Aaron wriggled free of the last scrap of fabric, kicking them away to stand completely naked in front of Kenny.

Exhilaration ran hot through Aaron’s veins, a heady rush of adrenaline and desire with Kenny stitched together in a tailored three-piece suit and him stripped bare. But Kenny’s lips found his again, the kiss desperate, consuming, and their tongues tangled in a dance of desire, languid and relentless, Aaron’s skin scratching against the fibres of Kenny’s suit.

Kenny reached for his tie, loosening the knot, but Aaron broke the kiss to grab his wrist. “Leave it on.”

Kenny paused, searching Aaron’s face. So Aaron grabbed the silk blade to urge Kenny down to the rug. He went with him to the floor, a silent acknowledgment of Aaron’s desire. He got it. Aaron knew he would. Kenny knew him better than anyone. Knew his secret craving was for authority to suffocate him into submission. And Aaron released Kenny’s tie, spreading his arms wide along the rug, offering himself completely.

Kenny shifted, straddling Aaron’s hips, and the weight of his fully clothed body over him, dark and foreboding, was the delicious pressure Aaron needed. He could have combusted right there, consumed by Kenny, and his cock throbbed, hard and aching, so he wrapped his legs around Kenny’s waist, crushing him closer, deepening the kiss that had his head spinning.

Kenny cupped Aaron’s arse, squeezing, encouraging him to grind against him, to defile the pristine lines of his suit just as he was unravelling the careful order of his life. So rut, Aaron did. Erratic and desperate, the friction driving him wild and he moaned, grunted, lost control. Aaron hadn’t ever known desperation like it, and he fixed his legs around Kenny to remove any air between them.

“ Aaron ,” Kenny ground out between kisses, between heady thrusts and nips of his neck. “Fuck. You’re fucking…” Then something clicked, as if Kenny realised the moment and what they were to each other. As if that role he played and didn’t show anyone else, like the one at Inferno, came out. For him . To control it. Him . And Aaron couldn’t get enough of his deep, sonorous voice in his ear as he crushed him into submission on every wrangled thrust. “That’s it, baby. Go on. That’s it. Get yourself off on me.”

It was dirty and desperate. Needy and impatient. And Aaron had no way of holding on, shameless and frantic to reach an end as quickly and recklessly as he could. As if it would limit the fallout of what would happen after.

It wouldn’t.

There was no going back from this.

Aaron wouldn’t let them.

“Fuck, oh, God, fuck .” Aaron dug his heels into Kenny’s back, gripping his hair, the soft yet wild strands between his fingers keeping him from falling off the cliff. “Fuck, Kenny. Fuck !”

Kenny’s lips found his again, eating his wild cries, and he grunted into his mouth as his ruts turned erratic. He nipped his earlobe. “Come for me, baby. Wanna see you fall a-fucking-part for me.”

With Kenny’s tongue inside his mouth, with the order and demand so feral, Aaron came in a fit of trembles he couldn’t temper and Kenny kissed him through it, letting him ride to his end, drain himself into his suit as he whispered, “Good boy,” over and over in his ear.

Then Kenny thrust his hips away, fiddling with his trousers, a quick flick and zip, and he dragged out his gloriously thick cock, fisting it and a couple of tugs had him spilling his load over Aaron’s belly with a feral, “Fuck, Aaron.”

He collapsed. Another kiss. Languid and profound. And, with a gentle roll, he shifted to Aaron’s side, swiping his hand through the remnants on Aaron’s stomach. He raised his fingers to Aaron’s lips, inviting him to taste and Aaron flicked his tongue out in gluttony, licking each finger slowly, savouring every drop before Kenny took them back and did the same, sucking them clean.

After a moment of getting their breaths back, Aaron slipped his head to the side. “Might have ruined your nice suit there, doc.”

“I have others.”

Aaron grinned. “Good.”

Kenny held his gaze for a moment, then lifted on his elbow, hand gliding up to Aaron’s chest, splaying his fingers over his heart. “This changes everything.”

Aaron rolled onto his side, hooked his leg over Kenny’s hip, trousers still open and limp cock dangling out. “Don’t pretend we were anything other than this from the moment we met.” Aaron kissed him. “Your denial was infuriating. Don’t start it again.”

Kenny narrowed his eyes, then glided his hands along to Aaron’s arse and gripped firmly, palms hot over the curve of Aaron’s body as he rolled onto his back, pulling Aaron with him. The movement was seamless, like a slow dance, and Aaron straddled Kenny, legs bracketing Kenny’s hips, and smirked. Kenny rested his hands on Aaron’s chest, gliding his fingertips over his nipples, playing absently with his piercing. So Aaron reached for Kenny’s tie, the deep navy silk perfectly knotted against the dark magenta of his shirt, and lazily tugged it loose. As he worked the fabric free, the music stopped, so it was Kenny’s breathing mingling with the quiet rustle of the tie sliding through the collar that had Aaron’s heart thumping.

Kenny’s eyes stayed locked on Aaron, heavy-lidded and unblinking, his expression a mix of trust and yearning. Aaron let the tie fall to the floor, fingers trailing back to the top button of Kenny’s shirt .

“Gonna let me see you now?”

Kenny parted his lips in a silent exhale. “You already see me.”

Aaron bowed forward, pressing his lips to Kenny’s. It wasn’t a kiss meant to consume, but to reassure. To promise. Yeah, Aaron already saw him. Had seen him the moment he’d opened a Google search box and typed in his name. Had seen him from afar, and now up close.

He still wanted more. Always more. He couldn’t ever have enough.

There was too much of his hollow soul to fill.

He moved his fingers again, undoing the buttons of Kenny’s waistcoat first, then his shirt, unfastening the top, then the next, exposing the tanned skin of Kenny’s chest inch by inch. Aaron took his time, savouring every moment, every tiny detail, every reaction Kenny made, and when he reached the last button, Aaron dragged the shirt open, shoving it, along with his jacket and waistcoat, over Kenny’s shoulders and down his arms. Kenny rose to shrug out of it all, and Aaron ripped the academic getup from under him to reveal the bare expanse of his torso, strong and lean, scattered with dark hair from neck to stomach.

“God, you’re fucking hot.” Aaron explored Kenny’s chest, the dip between his collarbones, the warmth radiating from his skin.

He kept his touch slow, Kenny’s gaze never leaving his, hands resting on Aaron’s hips, stroking his bare skin, a subtle motion that made Aaron’s heart ache.

Kenny’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

Aaron bent down again, their mouths meeting in a kiss, slower this time, less urgent and more connecting. Kenny dragged him closer, their bodies aligning as the kiss deepened. Then, with a fumble, Aaron had Kenny out of his trousers and underwear and finally, fully naked for him .

Time seemed to stretch then. Each touch, each shared glance, charged with an intensity foreign to Aaron. And as he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on Kenny’s, both of them breathless and trembling, he knew this moment would stay with him forever.

Whether Kenny would, he doubted.