Page 18 of Kiss Me Honey Honey (To Love a Psycho #2)

Chapter seventee n

Pure Morning

Aaron woke once again in Kenny’s bed.

Cloaked mostly in darkness with a faint amber glow from the streetlamp outside slicing through the blinds, it wasn’t quite morning. The world still suspended in that fragile, timeless space between night and day and Aaron peeked over at Kenny sprawled across the bed, face buried in his pillow, limbs slack in sleep.

Kenny was temptation personified, and Aaron was one hundred percent under his spell. Possessed by him. Kenny had him completely undone, stripped bare in every way that mattered, leaving him a needy, pliant mess, willing to surrender to anything Kenny asked. Whatever whim, whatever touch, Aaron would give it. Because he craved him. Body, mind, and soul.

Last night had been nothing short of perfection. Bliss woven into every second they spent together. After the two heated encounters downstairs, they’d devoured the pizza in comfortable silence. But the night hadn’t ended there. Kenny, ever the tease, had settled on the sofa, catching up on work while Aaron lay sprawled beside him, watching the way his brows furrowed in focus, the slight twitch of his lips when he read something he found interesting. Every movement, every glance, only made Aaron ache for more.

When Kenny finally closed his laptop and reached for Aaron’s hand, leading him upstairs, it was as if the world slowed. He took him into the shower, steam curling around them, enclosing them in a private world where nothing else existed, and Kenny had touched him like he was precious. Treasured . He roamed his hands over every inch of Aaron’s skin, water cascading over them as he washed him gently, reverently. Aaron didn’t know what overwhelmed him more. The tenderness in Kenny’s touch or the way his body responded, for the third time. Hard and desperate for his care.

Kenny, ever attentive, took pity on him, lathering his hand with gel and wrapping it around Aaron’s length, stroking him until Aaron shattered, trembling uncontrollably, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Kenny held him through it, steady and grounding, whispering soft reassurances as Aaron clung to him, boneless and undone. Kenny washed him again, gentle as ever, rinsing away every trace of tension. When the water finally turned cold, Kenny wrapped him in the softest towel Aaron had ever felt, drying him, even ruffling his damp hair with playful affection. And, with a firm but tender grip, he led Aaron to bed, tucking him in like he was fragile. Worth protecting.

Aaron didn’t know how he could ever live without this. Without Kenny . He made him feel whole when all he’d ever felt was broken. How had Kenny become his everything? How was Aaron supposed to let him go?

So he kept his little secret about stealing the report from his office, burying it with everything else he kept hidden, in case Kenny called an end to it all and instead, leaned over, pressing his lips to Kenny’s shoulder blade, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing. He traced the contours of Kenny’s back, ghosting over the subtle ridges of his muscles, then climbed atop him, body melding to Kenny’s as if made to fit. He kissed along Kenny’s spine, trailing upwards, tasting the salt residue left on his skin, and threaded his hands into Kenny’s hair, raking through the messy waves to reach the nape of his neck where he hovered his lips, savouring the intimacy.

How was it even possible to feel like this? How could a single person consume him so utterly, invade every thought, every pulse of his heart? Kenny was everything he shouldn’t want. Why would anyone want someone who could decipher every thought in his head? Someone who knew him better than he knew himself? Could read his mind. Knew his past and present, and could predict his future. Yet he was everything Aaron needed . His obsession was an all-consuming hunger gnawing at him even as he tried to satiate it. Aaron had tethered himself to Kenny, chasing his impossible high and their fragile, fleeting bliss.

He didn’t want to think about how it would end. He couldn’t .

Kenny stirred beneath him, a soft groan rumbling in his chest. Aaron kissed the edge of his jaw, voice a whisper against Kenny’s skin. “Kiss me,” he demanded, impatient for Kenny’s rough and brutal lips back on his.

Kenny mumbled something incoherent, reaching back to grip Aaron’s thigh, then he raised his head from the pillow, crooked his neck to capture Aaron’s lips with his own. How did it feel this electrifying? This explosive? As powerful as it had every other time? Aaron didn’t know, but he was a slave to it. To Kenny and his mouth. And kept going back for more with the expectation the spark would fade. But it hadn’t. Wouldn’t . And Kenny couldn’t be comfortable the way he was, Aaron digging onto his back, neck straining every tendon to get to him, yet he didn’t move. Didn’t stop. Eager to deepen the kiss Aaron had begged for as if he felt exactly the same.

Somehow, Kenny flipped onto his back, getting Aaron straddling him, snaking an arm around him possessively, and he rose to kiss him, groaning into it, all scratching teeth and fervid hunger. Aaron pushed him back to the mattress, slithering down his body, and took his glorious erection into his mouth. He should hate how big Kenny was. That it was an effort every time he did this. That it hurt . But all he felt was gluttony for it. And he sucked without care, without rhythm, desperate for Kenny to choke him.

Kenny hissed, raising up, gripping Aaron’s hair to watch his cock slide in and out of his mouth, then grunted, fierce and unrestrained, hips thrusting up as he cried out, “Fuck, Aaron …” Then with his fingers tightening in Aaron’s hair, he came, every last drop exploding into his mouth.

Aaron slurped off, scrambling up to straddle him and stroked himself while Kenny got his breath back. Then Kenny rose again, taking Aaron’s cock in his hand, and kissed him while fisting him to his erratic end. They both collapsed back to the bed, with Aaron falling over to his side, panting and sweating.

“That’s one way to beat the alarm,” Kenny said just as his phone vibrated.

Aaron chuckled, but another loud, insistent noise disturbed the peace. Banging on Kenny’s front door.

“Stay here.” Kenny swung his legs off the bed to stand.

Aaron sat back, watching Kenny drag on a pair of loose pyjama bottoms, hair tousled, no top, and pad toward the door. When he left and footsteps bundled down the stairs, Aaron listened out. He didn’t know why, but he doubted this was an early package being delivered. He listened to muffled voices, but couldn’t make out any words. Then the front door shut. More muffled voices. Whoever it was, was now in the house with Kenny. Rushing up the stairs rattled the doors and Kenny returned to the bedroom, distress written all over his face, holding onto Aaron’s clothes.

“What?” Aaron asked, heart thumping.

“You better get dressed and come downstairs.” Kenny handed him his jeans and hoodie then opened a drawer and pulled out a T-shirt, slipping it on before giving Aaron an unsettling look.

“Who the fuck is dead now?” Aaron tumbled out of the bed, half joking, half fucking serious.

Kenny just stared at him, so Aaron stepped into his gear. Once dressed, he smoothed out his hair and met Kenny by the bedroom door.

“No heads up?” Aaron said.

“All I ask is you don’t make this any worse than it’s about to be.”

Kenny opened the door and went first out of the room, down the stairs and led Aaron into the kitchen, where Detective Inspector Jack Bentley waited by the breakfast bar, chewing his thumbnail. One look at Aaron behind Kenny and his jaw dropped.

“Jesus, fucking, Christ .” Jack scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Not how I like to start my mornings, either, officer,” Aaron said, propping himself up against the American style fridge as Kenny perched at the other end of the kitchen, all three of them like the corners of a triangle.

“It’s Detective,” Jack spat back.

Aaron shrugged. “You say tomato.”

“Fuck’s sake!” Jack glared at Kenny. “This is your fucking alibi? Fuck .”

Kenny stood silent, eyes on Jack, a pillar of control. No rushing to Aaron’s defence, and that was fine because Aaron didn’t need defending against this bellend. Although, he suspected the silence spoke more to Jack than a denial, or an explanation, would.

“Alibi?” Aaron finally cottoned on. “Why does he need an alibi?”

Jack turned his glare on Aaron. “Because last night Carly Reynolds was killed. ”

“Who the fuck is Carly Reynolds?”

“The editor of news at the Ryston fucking Gazette. Your fucking boyfriend’s mentor.”

Aaron blinked. “First, Taylor’s not my boyfriend.”

“That is beside the point.”

“Aren’t you meant to gather the evidence?” Aaron cocked his head. “I know you have a real problem with facts, but I give you this one for free: Taylor is not my boyfriend.”

“I apologise. Fuck buddy, then.”

Aaron laughed. “Not that either. Please ensure accuracy in your notes because, seriously, that bloke needs no more ammunition to try for my arse.”

Jack inhaled, chest rising, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I honestly cannot believe I have to ask this, but where were you at around midnight last night?”

Aaron turned to Kenny, catching the sharp inhale giving him away before his subtle nod of permission. So Aaron answered, “Here.” He cocked his head at Bentley. “I could point out exactly where, but I’ll assume you already know where the bedroom is in this house?”

Jack didn’t rise to the bait. His silence was its own answer, but his glance toward Kenny set Aaron’s teeth on edge. And the way Kenny met Jack’s gaze, unflinching and steady, was a quiet declaration, a refusal to waver. And fuck , that look alone had Aaron’s pulse pounding, heat stirring low in his gut. Because there was no denial. No jump to apologise. Or defend his actions. As if Kenny didn’t care that Jack would now know they’d slept together.

Aaron’s jealousy roared louder, though. Hot and venomous. Because he couldn’t get the images out of his head. Vivid and vile. Kenny fucking Jack. In that room, in this house. Against the bedroom wall, over the kitchen counter, sprawled across the sofa. The images clawed at his mind, each one a serrated edge, tearing at his fragile sense of control. He wanted to rip out Jack’s throat. It didn’t matter how irrational, how utterly feral the thought was. It was there, rising and twisting inside him, threatening to spill over. So he clenched his fists at his sides, forcing himself to stay still. Not to allow his emotions to show. Not to Jack, not here.

“Don’t do anything to make this worse.”

But the burn stayed regardless. Coiling deep, waiting.

“I appreciate you coming to warn me,” Kenny said. “If you want an official statement, I can make my way to the station whenever you need. I just need to sort a few things out, then I’m yours.”

“Wait.” Aaron held up a hand. “You’re not here for me? Why is he on the shit list?”

Jack’s gaze snapped to Aaron before swinging back to Kenny. “So, you didn’t tell him about your little vigilante escapade, then?”

Kenny didn’t answer, eyes fixed downward, silent.

So Jack returned to Aaron. “He stormed into the Gazette offices yesterday, dragged your boyfriend—sorry, fellow student —through the place, locked him in the accessibility toilet, and threatened him.”

Aaron’s brows shot up, glancing over to Kenny. But Kenny remained steady and unrepentant. Fucking legend.

“He also threatened Carly Reynolds. Now she’s dead, office files ransacked.”

“Fuck.” Aaron let the implication of that settle before turning back to Kenny with a sharp grin. “Imagine if you didn’t have an alibi.”

Appreciative of the mockery, Kenny curved his lips, but nothing else. Cool, unshaken. And Aaron, for all his simmering tension, couldn’t help but admire it.

“The fact his alibi is you ,” Jack flapped a hand at Aaron, “does not bode well.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Jesus, Kenny. Why is it always coming back to him ? ”

“It’s not his fault,” Kenny said, firm and composed. “He didn’t ask for any of this.”

“He could be anywhere else. Being someone else. And not my fucking problem. But you wouldn’t let him go.”

Aaron cocked his head. “I’m starting to believe you don’t like me very much, detective.”

Jack didn’t so much as glance Aaron’s way, focusing entirely on Kenny. And Aaron caught the drop in Jack’s eyes, restrained yet undeniable. A sliver of weakness, of reluctance, as if he hated being here, hated having to do this to someone who’d once mattered to him. It clawed at Aaron’s insides, jealousy tightening around his chest like a vice. It wasn’t logical considering how he’d woken up mere moments ago in Kenny’s bed and seduced him to a lustful orgasm. But it also wasn’t fair. Because Jack had been Kenny’s first. Probably done exactly as they had, and the simmering rage made him want to push Jack away. To stake his claim.

Kenny was his .

“ Kenny .” Jack’s voice was rough with frustration. “I could lose my career for being here right now.”

“I know.” Kenny unfurled his arms, posture calm but with a show of sincerity, unapologetically vulnerable and yet entirely controlled. The exchange burned through Aaron, fanning his irrational jealousy even further. He wanted to tear the detective apart, to shred that lingering connection between him and Kenny until there was nothing left. “I didn’t ask you to protect me.”

“As if I wouldn’t,” Jack shot back.

“Then that’s on you. Don’t shift the blame. I’ll come in voluntarily, give my statement. Then I’ll help you look over the evidence.”

Aaron clenched his jaw as he watched them, the dynamic between them crackling with a history he wasn’t part of, didn’t understand. He didn’t want to. It was unbearable . Being on the outside was an insistent reminder that Kenny had belonged to someone else before him.

But Kenny’s gaze shifted, landing on Aaron, and his tight but brief smile told him he wasn’t an afterthought. That he mattered, too. It wasn’t enough to chase away the jealousy entirely, but it was enough to keep him tethered, just barely, and not do something utterly insane.

For now.

“You can’t do that,” Jack snapped, pushing away from the counter, his frustration a sharp edge in the room.

“Why not?”

“Once again, you’re compromised.”

“But it was fine before?”

“When you had no connection to the case, yes. But now? Fuck, Kenny, we should’ve declared—” Jack raked a hand through his hair, anger spilling over, though it seemed as much at himself as at Kenny. “We should’ve declared our history before. If the prosecution catches wind of this, you know what happens. The case collapses. We were lucky last time. But luck runs out. And now I’m here—” He gestured sharply to himself, voice rising, “—telling you something you shouldn’t even know because of that history . ”

“Okay.” Kenny rose his hands, his tone measured, though his posture hinted at his unease. “Okay, I get it. I’ll make the statement. I’ll stay off the case. But you know where I am if you need any…off-the-record advice.”

Jack exhaled sharply, tension radiating off him. He gave Kenny a stiff nod, gaze lingering too long on Aaron as if searching for something—an answer, a weakness—before turning and heading for the door. The slam reverberated through the house, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

Kenny closed his eyes, head tilting back as if the moment had finally crushed him. The silence wasn’t peace. It screamed of unresolved questions and unrelenting pressure. Aaron stayed where he was, watching, unsure. Did Kenny want him gone? Out of his house? Out of his life ? Maybe he was tired of Aaron dragging complications into his world, disrupting him at every turn.

Or maybe he needed something else.

Aaron decided it didn’t matter what Kenny needed. Because Aaron was selfish. Always had been. So he crossed the room, stepping in front of him, and without waiting for an invitation, wrapped his arms around Kenny’s neck.

Kenny opened his eyes, startled, body rigid at first. But then, slowly, he placed his hands on Aaron’s waist, grip tentative, almost reluctant.

“Kiss me,” Aaron said, lighter this time. Less demanding, more hopeful. Gut-wrenchingly hopeful. Because if Kenny refused now, Aaron didn’t know what it would do to him.

Kenny stared at him for a heartbeat too long. Then he pulled Aaron closer and kissed him. Languid. Deep . As if it were both a comfort and a surrender. As they broke apart, Kenny swiped his forehead on Aaron’s, his breaths shaky, eyes weary.

“Feeling a little paranoid,” Aaron said.

“Yeah.” Kenny’s lips quirked into a ghost of a smile. “Me too.”

“Always hated Tuesdays.” Aaron clutched Kenny, refusing to let the morning, let him , slip away into darkness when it had started so bright and beautiful.