Burning Honey Ch. 03

"The guy I'd been interviewing had no clue what'd been going on. As far as he'd known, it was just water. Hell - I wouldn't have known if I didn't have to research solar panel production for my senior thesis. Once I told him what he'd been handling - the guys sometimes washed their hands in that water for god's sake - he was shocked. And angry that the company hadn't said anything. He agreed to be my source as long as I used an alias for him in the article. I interviewed him for another hour and more violations - minor ones, granted - kept coming out. We took pictures of the bucket. He saved some emails from his supervisor telling him he could dump the water out back onto a zip drive I had with me. It was going to be my big break."

"But something happened," Cary prompted him, for Aspen had gone quiet, eyes still fixed on his now-cold drink. His hands were still now, too.

"The article ran. I finished it just in time to swap out the fluffy piece. I had to move fast," he said, glancing up at Cary. "I just felt this - this adrenaline. Like it was what I was meant to do. Anyway, my editor there, Thom - he was onboard the whole time, reviewed all my material, OKed it with the editor-in-chief. He agreed we had to jump on this. We pulled an all-nighter to get it done and to the presses in time.

"By the time we were done I was exhausted. I went home and slept for most of the day. When I got up, the first thing I did was check the website - articles go up almost immediately. But it wasn't on the Trib's site. When I called Thom, he didn't pick up, but by then it was past 5 and not unusual," he said bitterly, "I just figured I'd talk to Thom about the web article the next day."

"But when I got there, my desk was all packed up already, not that there was much there. And Thom was out. Someone told me he thought he'd left for vacation, but it was obvious when my zip drive with the photos and transcriptions of my interviews and everything I had was gone - so stupid, I didn't even have a backup - and that was finally when I saw the day's paper. On the front page they ran a correction with a note from the editor-in-chief apologizing for what they called 'unfounded accusations' against Solysis. They blamed it on an illegitimate source and shoddy fact checking. I tried calling my guy at the plant but he wouldn't pick up, and later I found out he'd been fired. It was my fault. Apparently one of the Tribune's board members was a major shareholder in Solysis."

Aspen felt like a balloon that'd been punctured. Every time he told the story it felt worse, like he was that stupid kid all over again. There'd been more coverage on his "faulty" reporting than the issue itself. Sure, there were those blogs that had picked up the story and were labeling the Trib's quick response as a cover up, but no legitimate source had backed him up. Thom had dropped off the map entirely.

"And that's when you moved here." Cary's voice seemed from far away. Aspen was lost in remembering.

"No. First my girlfriend at the time dumped me. Then my dad died, and then I came here." Aspen blinked. He hadn't meant to share that part of the story. Somehow Cary's gaze had him unraveling.

"I'm sorry," Cary said sincerely, but in a way that made Aspen feel that he'd already known. "But I'm glad you're here now." That seemed to be sincere, too.

Aspen fidgeted just a bit. He'd destroyed his napkin and his espresso was stone cold. There was nothing to distract him from the man sitting across from him. He cleared his throat. "I'm sensing you knew most of this. Why would you ask me to look into this, with my track record? Last time wasn't exactly a success."

Cary smiled at him, but it was a tight, grim expression. "This time you have me on your side. And I need you for this, Aspen, no doubt about it. Will you at least look into it?"

Aspen had his "No, I said I'd hear you out and I've done that" response on the tip of his tongue but somehow when he opened his mouth he found himself saying "Fine. But no promises. I'm just looking it over, I can't get involved in another--"

"Good enough," Cary interrupted. "Come on, I have some files for you in the car."

Aspen kept close behind Cary. He was suddenly very aware that he had just spilled his whole stupid sob story to this man who he still barely knew anything about--other than his name, place of employ, and the taste of his lips.

At the car, Cary held the door for him. He climbed in, still feeling exposed. Inside, Cary produced a very large black binder, stuffed to the gills with papers. Aspen stared.

Cary chuckled, almost sounding nervous. "I guess you could say I'm a bit...fixated on this. I'm seeing signs everywhere that... Well, I'll let you decide. Did you want us to drop you back at your office? Or at home?" He took off his suit jacket before buckling himself in.

"Hm? Oh - my loft, please." Aspen had been staring again. That pinstriped shirt clung to Cary like a second skin: Aspen could see the broadness of his shoulders and chest, the sharp taper to his trim waist. His mouth was dry.

Again they rode in silence, though Aspen couldn't help himself watching the man out of the corner of his eye. He was flicking glances back at Aspen, too; like their eyes were magnetically attracted. Cary's face was unreadable.

When they had pulled up outside Aspen's loft, Cary handed him the massive collection of documents. The set of his jaw was rigidly determined when he said to Aspen, "Say hi to Ruby for me."

"Um," said Aspen. "We actually - I mean, I - we broke up." He hadn't meant to say that. He could feel the heat rushing to his face. He hadn't moved to open the car door.

"Did you, now," Cary said after a moment, almost neutrally, although Aspen thought he saw his expression relax just a hair. Aspen nodded, barely. What am I doing? "And why is that?"

Aspen just gaped. How could he ask that? Surely it was obvious. "What - well, I couldn't stay with her, not after what I - what we - it wouldn't be right to -"

"But I thought we'd put all that behind us," Cary said smoothly, though he was moving toward Aspen now, sliding along the backseat slow and deliberate, and Aspen could not move. His throat had closed and though he opened his mouth to respond no words emerged. His eyes were locked on the man advancing towards him, cornering him against the passenger side door, just the overstuffed binder between them.

"Aren't we putting that behind us, Aspen?" Cary whispered, and he was so close now that Aspen could smell him, musky and warm and real, those gold eyes not allowing him any escape. "Aren't we?"

It was too much and Aspen couldn't, no he couldn't, but somehow he found that he was moving, setting the documents on his lap -- his hands were on Cary's shoulders and his fingers were twisting into the ends of his hair and he was looking into that face, which, even fervent as it was now, seemed to always carry a lingering hint of that quick perfect smile, and without thinking further than that he closed the distance and his mouth was on Cary's. He could taste the sweet espresso on his lips. Cary gave Aspen only a moment to lead before he was wrapping a strong arm around his back, crushing him to his body and kissing Aspen so fiercely that he was sure he'd be marked by it. He felt consumed, taken over, like this moment was the only sustenance he'd ever needed and he could live off it forever.

It felt too soon that Cary slowed, gentling his grip on Aspen, pulling back so that their mouths only just brushed. Aspen was nearly panting or he would've complained. "Tell me to back off now," Cary said almost roughly. Aspen could only stare. "Tell me that you don't want me to come upstairs. Last chance."

Aspen was so damn hot, drenched in this man's golden gaze, he couldn't think and all he could do was rock forward, rock a little closer to that solid golden body and spicy scent, but his eyes were fixed on Cary's when he said, "Come upstairs" through trembling lips.

They were silent on the way up to Aspen's penthouse loft, but it was a charged silence. Cary couldn't seem to resist touching Aspen now - a hand on his back to help him out of the car, tracing across his shoulders, brushing teasingly over his ass - so that by the time they'd reached the elevator bank Aspen's nerves were jangling. Mrs. Abrams, a sweet old lady who lived on the 11th floor, rode up with them. Aspen was fidgeting while Cary kept one hand on the back of Aspen's waist, tapping some gentle code there out of Mrs. Abrams' view, humming cheerfully all the while. When Mrs. Abrams exited, smiling politely, Cary tugged Aspen up against him and slid an arm around his chest to keep him there. Aspen was surrounded by the smell of him, the feeling of his hard body behind him, the warmth of his breath on his neck. Aspen's own breath seemed to desert him.

"Relax," Cary murmured directly into his ear and Aspen was suddenly aware that his entire body was rigid. He inhaled deeply, and again. "That's better." Cary's mouth was pressed to the back of his neck, the shell of his ear. Aspen had given in, let his eyes fall shut, when he heard the door ding open on his floor.

Shaking himself out of his torpor, Aspen extricated himself from Cary's arms to unlock the door with quavering hands. He waved Cary in before him.

Cary whistled. "Some place you got here," he said. It was the typical response to Aspen's loft: the high ceilings with massive exposed beams, the spiral staircase leading up to the open second level which comprised Aspen's bedroom, the antique furniture which seemed almost at odds with the modernist lines of the place. One full wall of the large room was entirely made of glass, revealing the sun-soaked city beyond.

"Thanks," Aspen said. "My dad left it to me." This was more information than he'd intended to convey. He could feel himself reddening. He busied himself by finding a spot for the massive binder on his desk. This done, he looked up to find Cary watching him, still standing in the doorway.

Shit. What am I doing? Aspen was panicking slightly now. He hadn't thought this through. Why had he invited him back up? He'd never been like this with anyone. He hardly knew the man.

Cary was surveying Aspen: he was stock-still as a hunter waiting out his prey, but Aspen could see anticipation in every line of his body. The sunlight had dappled over his already golden hair, highlighting the strong planes of his face, and Aspen found himself lost in the vision before him, dazed.

"Aspen," Cary said, and he crossed the room in three long strides. He was beside Aspen now, but he didn't touch him. "Hey. Look at me." Aspen didn't want to admit that when the man was in his field of vision he had trouble looking at anything else, so instead he shook his head dumbly, even as he did so unsure why he was avoiding those swirling honey depths.

"What do you want, Aspen? Just tell me. Anything you want." He just gently touched Aspen's hand, hanging by his side, but it was enough to send a tremor through him.

"I want--" The last word died on his lips, but when at last he raised his gaze to level witCary's, it hung unspoken between them: you. I want you.

The fire that suddenly roared in Cary's eyes was too much and Aspen didn't know who moved first but now they were entangled, and Cary was kissing him roughly but it was more than that; his hands were everywhere, mapping out Aspen's body almost desperately, and Aspen was squirming closer, little noises of need escaping him, and they were the only the only thing in the world that mattered at that moment.

Cary pushed Aspen back just far enough to pull his tee shirt over his head, latching immediately onto the sharp angle where shoulder met neck, biting and licking across his collarbone. He ran his hands up Aspen's smooth torso, only lightly brushing over Aspen's already peaked nipples so that he groaned.

Smirking, Cary bent to take one pink nub between his teeth, and Aspen arched up to meet him. Cary's hands were at his waist now, fingers skimming his stomach, and when he straightened to capture Aspen's mouth again, nibbling on his lower lip, he began to work open Aspen's jeans. Aspen could only moan and thrust his hips forward. When at last Cary had triumphantly rid him of his belt and conquered his fly he wasted no time in shucking both pants and boxers off Aspen, his hard cock slapping up against his bare belly. Cary allowed him to step out of the pants before he pushed him back just slightly to run his eyes up and down Aspen's naked body.

"Finally," he husked, and then he was turning Aspen around, trailing a hand from the base of his neck all the way down over his ass, making Aspen shiver. "Finally," Cary repeated but it was more of a groan this time, and he pulled Aspen flush against him, tucking his chin over Aspen's bare shoulder and grasping his jutting cock with both hands. He wasn't gentle with his stroking and Aspen was writhing in the confines of his arms.

"Cary," he panted. "Cary, let me -"

"Shhh. Plenty of time," Cary whispered in his ear but even as Aspen bucked forward into his hands he shook his head.

"No," he managed somehow, "you don't - I need -"

"What do you need, baby?"

"I need," Aspen said, and moaned as Cary thumbed a large pearl of precum and slicked his cock with it. "Wait - ah - Cary - to touch--"

Cary's hands stilled. "What's the magic word?" He asked playfully.

"Cary," Aspen groaned.

"I do like hearing my name from your lips," he nipped at Aspen's shoulder, "but that's not what I was looking for."

"Please, Cary!" It was a moan of frustration more than a plea, but it was enough. Reluctantly Cary released his grip and turned Aspen around, keeping him locked in his arms. He had half a grin on his face but his eyes were hot honey on Aspen's skin.

Aspen let a hand trail out between them. He was shaking with desire and yet he could only move slowly. It was as if in a trance that he watched his fingers dip under Cary's collar, scrape his nails against the skin on his neck. He could feel Cary swallow. Now he was - somehow, without fumbling at all - so slowly undoing the first button, and then the second. Aspen felt compelled to touch every inch of golden skin he uncovered, peeling the silk away to reveal a magnificent torso lightly dusted with golden curls.

Cary moved to remove the garment but Aspen stopped him, sliding a hand over his shoulders and shucking the shirt from his body, running his hands all the way down to the wrists. Immediately he went to work on Cary's slacks, more urgent now. After Cary had slid them off he made a grab for Aspen, who stepped out of the way, putting out a hand to keep him there.

Aspen didn't say anything. He was too busy drinking his fill of the most perfect, the most insanely - shit, he couldn't handle how sexy Cary looked standing there bare naked in the middle of his living room. The man was made of pure muscle: solid pecs with quarter sized brown nipples, the kind of abdomen found mostly in bodybuilding magazines, a sharply defined Adonis' belt that led the eye straight down to Cary's rock hard cock, nested in a neat bed of gold curls and framed by powerful thighs that could have been carved from stone.

Oh. His cock was indecently large, Aspen thought with the one corner of his brain that seemed to still be sort of functioning. He had the vague impression that he should be worried by this but all he could do for the moment was stare, struck dumb. He felt like he couldn't open his eyes wide enough - he wanted to see everything, every inch of skin, every muscle, every hair. And he wanted to - he needed to touch him.

"Cary," he breathed and it was too much for both of them - they met halfway with a violent clash of tongues and teeth, hands frantic to stroke and explore. Aspen found himself biting at the spot on Cary's broad shoulders he'd spent so much time imagining - that perfectly smooth gold skin was slightly salty, irresistible, and Aspen followed a path of his own making down and across Cary's chest, raking his thumbnail over a nipple, soothing with his tongue. He felt possessed. He had no plan, no idea what was happening: all that existed was this man, this perfect being who was strumming his every sense into overdrive.

Aspen wanted to drive him mad with it all, make Cary feel exactly what he himself was feeling - wanted to make him lose it completely. He needed to.

Keeping his eyes on the tanned expanse of skin before him, Aspen sank to his knees. He explored the flat ridges of Cary's abs with lips and tongue, his hands now on each hip, fingers curving around his muscular ass. When he got to Cary's belly button he kissed it almost chastely, flicking his gaze up for the first time to see Cary's face unshuttered by desire: his eyes were only half open but burning, lips slightly parted, breathing heavily. It was the most beautiful thing Aspen had ever seen.

With single-minded determination he nibbled his way down the trail of dark golden hair, biting harder at Cary's hips, hoping he was leaving marks. He kissed at his inner thighs, avoiding the thick hard cock between them until Cary groaned. Flicking his eyes back up at him he gave him a sly smile as at last he let a hand wrap around Cary's base.

"Fuck, yes, Aspen," Cary's growl seemed almost involuntary, and the sound of his voice, uneven, made Aspen shiver.

Blue eyes never leaving Cary's, Aspen licked his lips. Some part of him was dimly aware that he had no clue what he was doing, but another part of him, instinctive and maybe even animalistic, was driving him forward, until he had pressed his face into Cary's crotch, inhaling the heady aroma. Cary had sucked in a deep breath which he let out shakily as Aspen flicked out his tongue to taste the skin there. It was as if this exploratory contact had flipped a switch in Aspen: suddenly he couldn't get enough, licking and sucking at Cary wildly, no finesse whatsoever in his technique, just a raw hunger that kept his lips and tongue working feverishly. He tasted indescribably irresistible.

Cary's hands found their way to the back of Aspen's head; he threaded them into Aspen's dark hair but instead of forcing him closer he was pulling Aspen back, just slightly, forcing him to slow his movements. Aspen chanced another look up through his lashes and saw Cary's glimmering eyes intent on him, his red mouth slightly open.

Obediently Aspen relaxed, pulling his mouth of Cary entirely with an obscene pop as he held his eyes, and then deliberately wrapping his lips around just the tip, letting his tongue flick into the slit there, once and then again when Cary let out a groan. He let his tongue explore each inch of Cary's throbbing erection, nibbling at the juncture of his thighs, swiping across the heavy balls that hung below. He was afire with the strange power he felt every time he heard Cary's breath catch.

He wanted to devour Cary whole. He kept their eyes locked together as he pulled back and, keeping his pace leisurely, let his lips encircle the crown. He forced his jaw to open its widest and slowly, centimeter by centimeter, took him into his mouth. Cary's hand was still fisted in his hair, tense but motionless. He felt the tip of Cary's cock brush his throat and choked a little. Cary made a soothing sound but Aspen ignored it. He wasn't giving up that easily.

Pulling back enough to take a deep breath, Aspen watched Cary, whose body was taut with pleasure. He was trying to keep his breathing even but not quite succeeding, and it pleased Aspen that he was the cause of it.

This time when he lowered his mouth over Cary's massive wet erection he was prepared and when the head hit the back of his throat somehow he managed to swallow it down and there he was with his nose pressed against the man's pelvis. It was bizarrely exhilarating.