“Take off your shirt, Olivia.”

“What? We said not to make it sexual.”

“The fact that you think we can lick food off of each other’s bodies without making it sexual is adorable, but don’t worry; I’m following your rules. I just need your shirt off to get to the spot I want. So take your shirt off and lie back.”

After a brief hesitation, she unceremoniously rips the tank top over her head, tossing it behind her head without looking. Fuck, she’s a vision. The soft coils of her hair hang over her shoulders, the tips stopping short just before her dark areolas. Her rich, brown skin looks so soft and inviting. Her eyes blaze with heat before she leans back to rest her head against the floor. My hand hovers over each option, but I’m drawn to the honey. She already tastes like honey to me, so this will only enhance that flavor. Quickly standing up, I rush over to the drawer closest to the sink to grab a spoon then stalk back over to her.

Her eyes are closed when I drop to my knee by her side, but they fly open when I drip a steady, thick line of honey off my spoon from the top of her chest down to the elastic band of her shorts.

“What are you doing?” she squeals. “It’s supposed to be one taste.”

“Oh trust me, it will be.” And then I flatten my tongue against her lower belly, feeling her muscles ripple beneath my touch. The sweet taste of the honey combined with the heady scent of her arousal have my dick aching, but I never take my eyes off of her as I drag my tongue up the expanse of her stomach and between her breasts. I place a wet kiss at the end of the honey trail. My dick presses against her thigh, drawing a soft whimper from her lips. I sit up and make a show of licking my bottom lip just so I can watch her squirm again.

I hate to burst this bubble of lust. I’d rather continue lapping honey off of her until she comes, but I have a feeling this next question is the whole reason she wanted to play this game, so I press on. “My turn. Same question back to you. Have you dated anyone seriously since me?”

She sits back up, still slightly dazed but focused, determined. “Yes and no. Fuck.” She cuts herself off.

“Really, that’s your answer? You’re not gonna tell me who it is?”

“That would be another question.” I take in the wide set of her eyes and the slight shake of her hands and realize that she’s not evading my question as some sort of mysterious siren play. She’s evading the question because she’s nervous.

“Okay then, claim your prize.”