by M L Sparrow
Damn, she was sexy when she took control!
Her fingers traced lightly over his chest and he craned his head down to see that she was connecting the scars on his body like a dot-to-dot. Catching her hand, he brought it up to his mouth and kissed her fingertips.
“How did you get these scars?” she asked softly. “They look like burns.”
“They are,” he shrugged. “I’ve got three older brothers, they bullied me a lot ‘til I learnt to fight back.” And they’d all been smokers by the time they were thirteen. Even he’d smoked for a while, until his High School coach found out and gave him an earful.
“That’s awful,” Chloe exclaimed, her eyes appalled.
“Forget it, sugar,” he murmured, sliding his hands up her waist until he reached her breasts, “it’s in the past.” Not that he’d ever forgiven his brothers.
His distraction tactic worked and she bent back down to kiss him, her hair tickled his face and the scent of strawberries overwhelmed him. Groaning against her lips, body shaking with anticipation, his hands grabbed at her hips, yanking her closer. Unable to resist, he cupped her ass in those jeans. When he squeezed she shivered, her lips faltering over his.
“Parker,” she gasped, her nails scratching at his scalp as she panted against his neck.
Turning them over so that he was on top, he trailed kissed down her body, the needy sounds that passed between her lips spurring him on. Watching her face, he began to peel her jeans down her legs. Her eyes opened and she propped herself up on her elbows to watch with wide, anxious eyes, but she didn’t protest.
Tossing her jeans over his shoulder, he knelt up to look at her body laid out before him and she blushed. It started in her cheeks, filled her face, then travelled down her neck, stopping just above her breasts. Fascinated, he followed the path with his fingertips, which only made the color deepen.
“Parker?” she murmured uncertainly, when he said nothing after a couple of minutes.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” the words were raw and rough, ripped from him.
“If I knew this was going to happen, I would have worn matching underwear,” she admitted, making him laugh.
“Don’t matter,” he responded gruffly, his eyes still locked on the soft flesh of her stomach and the tan lines on her shoulders, “they won’t stay on long.” Pulling his gaze away, he asked, “Is this what you want?”
Nodding, she bit her lip. “Yes.”
Noting her hesitation, he cupped her face in both hands, sweeping his thumbs over the arch of her cheekbones. “We don’t have to if you’re not ready.”
“No,” she said quickly, her smaller hands covering his, “I want to, really. I guess I’m just nervous.”
“Are you a virgin?”
“Is it that obvious?”
Smirking, he kissed her nose. “It’s written on your forehead.”
“Yeah, well,” her hands slid tentatively down his chest until she touched the waistband of his jeans, fingers playing lightly along the edge, “even I know that you’re going to have to lose these.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Grinning down at her, he leant down for another quick kiss, before jumping from the bed to strip off the offending item. Since she was still nervous, he kept his boxers on, though they hid little, his erection tenting the material. He also grabbed a condom from the top draw and left it on the side.
Back on the bed with her, Parker continued to kiss and caress her body until she was trembling beneath him. Running his hands up her thighs, he tucked two fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged gently, asking, “You ready, sugar.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. Then, grabbing his hand as he went to pull them down her legs, “Just…just go slow, okay?”
“Promise,” he murmured, kissing his way back up her stomach until he found her lips once more, “just lie back and think of England.”
The comment made her laugh slightly and he used the distraction to step out of his boxers and roll on the condom with quick, practiced movements. Settling himself between her soft thighs, he groaned at the feel of her body beneath his. Her pussy fucking burned and he felt his cock twitch with impatience, but he forced himself to go slow and easy, pressing into her in small increments, pausing when she tensed, kissing her neck, her breasts, her face.
When he encountered the proof of her virginity, he found her lips to smother her small cry as he forged forwards, burying himself to the hilt in soft, scorching flesh. She pulsed around him, squeezing his cock like a little fist and he almost came then and there.
God, he needed to pound into her now, but more than his own need was the desire not to hurt her, to make her first time special.
“So fuckin’ tight,” he bit out between gritted teeth, pressing his face into the curve of her shoulder as he battled for control.
“Parker…” she gasped his name and he looked down at the needy, lost expression on her face. Now that the initial pain had worn off, her body stirred restlessly beneath his and her arms lifted to encircle his neck. He couldn’t hold back any longer.
Gripping her hips, he thrust into her, his control shattered. He was being too rough, but she felt so damn good and her nails dug into his back, spurring him on, along with her moans in his ear and the look on her face. The moment he felt her body begin to convulse, he was done for.
Sex with Chloe was fucking amazing, he thought afterwards, laying with her in his arms, her head on his chest. Who knew emotions did actually make a difference? She was soft and warm and inviting, the perfect mix of innocence and seduction. She didn’t have to do anything to make him hard, all she had to do was look at him with those big brown eyes and he could go all night.
Beside him, she breathed heavily, her breaths ticking his skin. Grinning smugly up at the ceiling, he asked, “Did I wear you out, sugar?”
Pinching his side, she lifted her head to scowl up at him. “No need to sound so proud, I think I’m about to have an asthma attack.”
Panic shot through his chest, sharp and vicious. “Shit.” Jerking up, he pulled her into a sitting position. “Where’s your inhaler?”
“Whoa, I was just joking,” she laughed, but there was still the slightest wheeze to her voice and he studied her closely. Were her cheeks red from passion, or something else?
When she didn’t keel over in front of him, he relaxed slightly, brushing the hair back from her face and smoothing it over her bare shoulder. “Are you sure? Maybe you should take it just in case?”
Shaking her head at him, Chloe kissed the base of his throat, where his pulse was pounding, before assuring him, “It’s fine, Parker, believe me. And anyway, my inhaler’s in my room.”
Instantly, his brows drew together. That was not all right. What if she had needed it? “What the hell’s it doing there?”
Scowling right back at him, though she didn’t move her hand from where it was roaming over his chest and stomach, she snapped, “It was in my purse, which you said to leave there when we went out.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I’d known. Fuck Chloe, that’s important. It could save your life.”
Sighing, she lay back on the bed, her long body stretched out, as bare as the day she was born, though definitely a lot better formed. She was trying to distract him, he knew it even before she spoke, but damn if it wasn’t working.
“We have the room all to ourselves,” she purred, “don’t you want to make the most of it?”
He growled – a proper growled; he had no control over it – and lunged at her. Giggling like a maniac, she grabbed his face when he kissed her hard on the lips. Quickly breaking away, before he got addicted and couldn’t stop, he fumbled around for his cell, which was still in his jeans pockets.
“What are you doing?” she protested, wrapping her arms around him from behind, kissing between his shoulder blades. The light touches made him shudder, lightning racing down his spine.
“Making sure we get some privacy,” he said, as he texted Jet. DON’T COME B
ACK 2NITE. Turning back to her, he grinned, wrapping his arms around her and wrestling her onto the mattress, “Now, where were we?”
Chapter Thirteen
The screech of metal buckling, tyres squealing. Chloe screamed. The car was spinning out of control. She caught a glimpse of Jack, limp in his seat. Her head slammed into the window. Everything flashed red, then faded to black.
“Chloe, Chloe, wake up.”
Even in the blackness, someone was screaming. It took her a minute to realize that it was her. Hands grabbed her shoulders, shook her until her head felt like it’d fall off her neck.
“Damn it, Chloe, wake the fuck up.”
Eyes snapping open, she stared up into Parker’s worried face just above hers, uncomprehending in her panic. Awake now, the screaming stopped, but small whimpering sobs continued to rip from her throat. She couldn’t stop it, she couldn’t make herself shut up. She was on the verge of a panic attack.
Wrapping her up in his arms, Parker crushed her to his chest, his heart pounding wildly along with hers. Clutching at him, she breathed in his scent of musk and sex. Thoughts of what they’d done last night rolled through her head. She was no longer a virgin! The realization snapped her out of her panic but she continued to cling to Parker; his muscled body wrapped around hers a huge comfort and her mind began to calm.
A sharp knock on the door made her jump, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Campus security, open up.”
“Shit,” Parker muttered, “better get that.” Reluctantly, she let him go and he pulled the covers around her.
“Open up!” Security demanded once more, louder this time.
“Coming,” Parker yelled right back, dragging on his boxers before switching on the light and making his way to the door, pulling it open and standing in the gap so that the man on the other side couldn’t see in.
“Someone on your floor reported hearing screaming coming from this room.”
“Yeah, my girl had a nightmare, but she’s fine now.”
“Can you confirm that?”
“What are you, the cops?” Parker answered confrontationally, before snapping, “See for yourself.” Glancing back over his shoulder, presumably to make sure she was still covered, he stepped back and pulled the door open further.
Poking his head inside, the middle-aged man with a thick beard and moustache scanned the room, before his gaze alighted upon her. “You all right, Miss, any problems here?”
Shaking her head no, Chloe swallowed, huddling further down into the covers. “No problems, it was just a nightmare.”
Frowning uncertainly, the man looked between her and Parker. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Well, okay then…” he trailed off, stepping back. Glancing at Parker, he nodded his head, “Sorry to disturb you folks.”
Closing the door, Parker flicked the light off again, plunging them momentarily into darkness before turning on the reading lamp instead, the light reaching out from Jet’s desk to the bottom of both their beds. Carefully lying down next to her, on top of the covers, he held out and arm, letting her come to him.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
For a moment the words stuck in her throat, choking her, but then the dam opened and they all rushed out at once, flowing from her until she had nothing left to confess, until she was empty inside. She told him about Jack, about the accident, about the guilt that weighed her down until she couldn’t breathe sometimes.
Without saying a word, Parker moved closer and held her tight and when she finished talking, he stroked her hair back from her face and kissed the tears from her cheeks.
“It wasn’t your fault, sugar,” he stated gruffly.
Those words had been said to her so many times that they’d ceased to have any meaning, but they were still comforting to hear in his deep drawl. With his steady heartbeat pounding beneath her ear, she slowly drifted back to sleep.
In the morning, the sun shining through the thin curtains woke her and Chloe blinked open her eyes to find herself alone. Stretching languidly, she glanced at her phone and realized it was almost midday; she hadn’t slept that long in ages, usually she caught a few hours of restless sleep at most. Clearly, Parker had exhausted her.
Sitting up, she wondered where he was as she looked around. It felt weird to be sitting in his room, naked, without him – he could return any minute… as could Jet. That thought had her scrambling for her clothes, pulling them on.
Where the hell were her knickers?
Remembering last night made her blush, a warm feeling in her stomach, at least until she recalled the nightmare. Hugging herself to ward off the embarrassment, Chloe glanced around the room – Jet’s side neat and well ordered, books stacked on his nightstand, whereas Parkers’ was a chaotic mess. Granted it wasn’t as bad as the first time she’d seen it, there were no longer piles of dirty clothes on the floor, but still, there was stuff scattered everywhere.
Suddenly, the door opened and she jumped guiltily, turning to see Jet, wearing last night’s clothes, his dark hair standing up in all directions and his eyes bloodshot. “Figured you two would be done by now,” he yawned, “I gotta crash.”
“Party hard, did you?” Chloe bit back a grin.
“Terri’s like a demon when she gets going, I swear she can drink more than the entire football team combined.” Shaking his head, he fell face down onto his bed, groaning dramatically.
Smiling to herself, Chloe went to the open door. “I’ll go so you can sleep.”
“‘Kay,” came Jet’s muffled response, spoken into his pillow, “Park… ou’side.”
She wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but she didn’t stop to ask, the poor guy looked like he was on deaths door. Anyway, once she got down stairs and stepped outside, it became obvious what Jet was trying to tell her. On a stretch of lawn between the building and the car park, Parker was tossing a ball around with Dawson, both of them in shorts and vests, since it was baking hot – she was sweating already in her jeans, moisture gathering at the small of her back and making the waistband of her jeans itch against her skin.
“Hello Sleeping Beauty,” Dawson was the first to spot her, tossing the ball hard to Parker and lifting a hand to greet her, “I thought I’d have to send Parker up to give you the kiss of life.”
Blushing, because it was brutally obvious to anyone who cared to know that she’d slept in Parker’s room last night, she glanced over at him as he caught the ball and hurled it back, before making his way over to her, a huge grin on his face.
That did it, if people didn’t already suspect that they’d had sex last night, then his expression totally gave the game away.
Cupping her face in his big palms, he went in for a kiss, his lips firm against hers, his tongue bringing a startling burst of heat, which made her insides turn molten. To steady herself, her hands came up to rest on his stomach, roving over the hard ridges, but that only made her body burn brighter. It seemed that now passion had been introduced, she couldn’t get enough of it.
A small whimper escaped her and Parker pulled back, his smile softer now, satisfied and private. “Mornin’, sugar,” he murmured.
“Morning.”
“If you want to be totally accurate,” Dawson butted in, coming over to them, tossing the ball from hand to hand, “it’s now the afternoon.” He winked at her, “Long night, was it?”
Once more, embarrassment swamped her; a soft, happy kind when she thought about what she’d done with Parker, and then a deeper, more humiliating sort as she remembered how she’d awoken screaming in the middle of the night, bringing campus security to his door.
Ignoring his friend, he asked, “How are you feeling?” Hazel eyes, locked on hers, held a deeper question.
“I’m okay,” she answered truthfully, “it shook me up, but afterwards I had a really good sleep, better than usual.”
She hadn’t had a nightmare like that since the weeks directly following the crash – it wasn�
�t even a nightmare really, rather a graphic memory that replayed over and over again, all the pain and emotions heightened every time. The psychologist her parents had insisted she see had said it was due to stress and guilt, which was probably true, and that it would go away given time, which had also proven to be correct until last night.
“Good. Wanna go get something to eat?”
“Actually, I was going to go find Riley and make sure she’s okay.”
The expression on his face was kind of adorable; it was almost a pout. Laughing, she patted his arm. “Go, eat with Dawson, talk about football and fishing, or whatever guys talk about. I’ll see you later.”
“Fine,” he huffed, but there was a playful gleam in his eye that she’d come to associate with him saying something sly, as if he were laughing even before he said it, “try not to miss me too much.”
“I’m sure I’ll survive for a few hours,” she assured him dryly, as he leant down to kiss her once more, this one quick and chaste, though his hand on her arse was anything but innocent.
“I’m not sure I will,” he growled, giving it a little slap as she moved away.
Narrowing her eyes on him, she demanded, “Did you just slap my butt like a damn horse?”
“Well, you are the best ride I’ve ever had.”
She gaped at him for a second, before spluttering, “I can’t believe you just said that.”
Grinning unrepentantly, he backed away, lifting a hand in farewell. Dawson threw the ball at him, almost hitting him square in the face, and she shook her head at the two of them as they began to mock fight.
Finding Riley alone in their room this time, Chloe went straight in and sat on the edge of her neatly made bed, watching as her roommate plastered on makeup to hide the bags under her eyes. Now that she thought about it, Chloe realized that Riley probably slept as little as she did; most the night she spent tapping away on her phone, though Chloe didn’t know why. Whatever her problems were, she hid them behind her bright smile and ditzy, party girl exterior. Chloe didn’t ask; if Riley wanted her to know she’d tell her, just like Chloe would tell Riley about her demons in her own time.
