Mary Baker - The Honey Trap

Seb’s gaze followed hers. ‘You have some?’

She gave her head a regretful shake. ‘There’s the bar toilets. I could –’

‘No. Don’t go. I can’t wait any more, Angel,’ he panted into her ear, his breath harsh and rasping. ‘Please.’

She understood. Reaching down, she took his full, swollen length in her hand. He moaned, blinking hard, as she lightly moved her hand up and down in a smooth, fluid motion, caressing the hot tip with her thumb. Moving his hand to the back of her head, he pulled her lips on to his for a kiss that startled her with its intensity, it was so raw and wildcat savage. It told her he needed this release, at least as much as she had.

She moved her mouth downward on a journey across his wet, shining torso, peppering hot and heavy kisses in her wake. She dragged a groan from his lips, tracing one nipple with the tip of her tongue and half kissing, half sucking at its hard peak. Continuing her journey down, she reached her target.

She felt him shiver as she took him into her. She could feel him, every inch of him, sliding back and forth in the snug, wet grip of her willing mouth while she moved her tongue in a circular motion around his ridge. With the flat of her nails she brushed his inner thigh, matching her speed to the buck of his hips.

The sheet tightened under her body as he knotted the cotton in a fist. It felt like his whole broad frame was ready to pop, needing her to unleash the primal energy pent up inside.

‘Don’t stop… ah! For Christ’s sake, Angel, please don’t stop now,’ he pleaded, choked with delicious agony.

His moans became louder, more ragged, more vital, and his back arched as she pushed him past the point of no return. She felt his whole body convulse and he let out a groan that seemed to contain his life’s essence as he fell into the oblivion of climax.

She paused a moment, then slid panting back up his body to where he lay, breathless and satisfied, on the pillow. He tilted his head to kiss her, the lips soft, tender, the bestial intensity of before now banished.

‘Oh God… that was incredible. You were incredible,’ he whispered, wrapping her in powerful arms.

‘Not so bad yourself.’ She planted a small kiss on the end of his nose. He smiled at her in the dim light and returned her kiss sleepily.

She snuggled into him, exhausted, satiated and happier than she’d been in an age. Silencing the nagging voice of conscience, she dismissed all thoughts of Steve, work, Carole Beaumont and the honey trap, letting herself fall into dreamless sleep in Seb’s reassuring embrace.

Angel woke with the taste of Seb still on her lips. The bed was warm, but he wasn’t there.

Had he gone into the other room? She called his name. No answer.

She rolled over on to her back and examined the carved white cornice around the ceiling as she took stock of herself. She had some idea she should feel guilty after the complete obliteration of her inhibitions last night, yet the thing had seemed so natural, somehow.

The whole experience felt dreamlike, looking back. Surreal. The second man she’d ever slept with and under such bizarre circumstances…

She’d known Leo for over a year before they’d started going out and it was months again until they’d started sleeping together. Yet last night she’d given herself to a stranger, another woman’s husband, who’d made her feel her needs completely synchronised with his. It had felt almost empathic, the way he’d touched her and anticipated everything she wanted from him. She hugged herself, thinking back to his touch on her skin, a dream now in her memory. And it seemed the dream and its subject had dissolved into nothing.

She snapped back to reality. What time was it? She pushed herself over on to her side and reached for her handbag to check her mobile. 10.15, shit! Checkout was at 11.00.

Swiping across the touchscreen, she read the text from Steve that had been waiting in her inbox since last night:

Done. And nice arse by the way.

Angel felt a sickening jolt as she remembered what was coming. It was Saturday today. Steve had told her the story would break in the Monday edition.

She thought of Seb’s electrifying touch, the comforting warmth of his body as he held her while she drifted into sleep, and of the pain he’d feel when he saw himself on the front page of the Investigator – how he’d despise her. She blinked hard, trying to hold back the tears she felt welling at the thought of the touch she’d never feel again and the man she was about to destroy.

Her gaze fell on a sheet of hotel notepaper next to her bag and she unfolded the note he’d left her:

Sorry had to shoot off, didn’t want to wake you. Loved spending time with you last night. Give me a call some time. Seb x. PS Make it soon.

And then a mobile number she knew she could never dial.

Get a grip, Angel. He’s married, for Christ’s sake. Just another cheating scumbag who can’t control himself. Now put it behind you and move on.

It was true; she knew it was. And yet she gave in and sobbed convulsively, pushing her face into his still-warm pillow until it was soaked through with her tears.

***

‘Hello?’ Angel called out, pushing open the door of the cheap-for-London two-bed flat she shared with Emily. She’d managed to shove everything into her overnight bag and check out of the hotel with minutes to spare, closing the door on the suite she’d come to both love and hate. She’d shot off a quick report to Steve from her mobile on the train home, a few observations on Seb’s mannerisms and behaviour, trying to keep it as brief and free from sordid detail as possible.

Her flatmate popped her head out of the kitchen and smirked, before pursing her lips into an expression of mock disapproval.

‘Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. And in the same clothes as she was wearing last night, no less. Just where do you think you’ve been, dirty stopout? I’ve a good mind to send you straight to your room.’

But her face fell as Angel burst into tears and flung herself forward into a hug.

‘God, Ange, what happened? Are you okay? Did he do something to you? Did Steve –’

Angel let out a bitter snort through her sobs. ‘Not them. It’s – it’s me. I’ve ruined everything.’

Emily made soft shushing sounds to her and stroked the back of her hair. Angel managed to choke back the sobs as her friend guided her to the black-leather sofa and sat down beside her, one arm around her shoulders.

‘Okay, drama queen, tell me the worst. How have you ruined everything?’

Angel sniffed and blew her nose into the tissue Emily passed her from a box on the coffee table. ‘God, it was the weirdest evening. I… slept with him, Em.’

‘Yeah, I’d kind of got that far on my own, sweetie. Not with that sleazoid Steve watching, though, I hope?’

‘No, I covered the camera after I got his text. Jesus, Em, it was unbelievable. It’s never been like that before, not even before me and Leo started having all the problems.’