Queen of the Knight (Surrender Games Book 2)

by Lydia Michaels

  He tipped his head. “Okay, but don’t hold that against me if you’re the one asking for discretion this time.”

  Maybe he wanted people to know so he could win their favor. He knew about Parker’s history with Lucian. Slade had been wrapped up in that mess, too, so Sawyer likely knew more about what happened than she did.

  “I need time to consider my feelings. I don’t trust you right now.”

  He drew back, appearing cut by her sharp words. “And what about Hughes? You trust him?”

  She believed Parker was trustworthy, but she was scared. “More than anything, I don’t trust myself and I won’t hurt him.” I won’t let you hurt him.

  “Will you tell him to back off?”

  She laughed. “No. You said you’re not threatened by him, so what does it matter if I continue to see him.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you sleeping together?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “I disagree. If you expect me to—”

  “I don’t expect anything. That’s the problem. You blindsided me yesterday with some offer that would have made my dreams come true a year ago. You did this, Sawyer. If you want me to come back to you, you’re going to have to convince me it’s safe.”

  His jaw ticked. “I see. And I suppose Hughes will be doing his best to convince you what we had meant nothing.”

  The truth was, Parker never bashed what she shared with Sawyer. That’s why this was so complicated. But he’d convinced her that—Sawyer aside—they had something special as well.

  He was the one who said he didn’t want her doubting her choice. That he never wanted to give her a reason to ask what if.

  “He doesn’t try to influence my feelings about you. He believes this is my decision.”

  His lip twitched and she sensed he took some form of satisfaction in knowing he could disturb her relationship with Parker and turn his open-mindedness into a downfall.

  “If you’re willing to give me the opportunity to show you it will be different, I’m not going to turn you down. I want to be with you, bella.”

  Damn her battered, bleeding heart. That simple statement wheedled its way into some neglected part of her needy soul, and the little girl lost inside of her begged to find out if he was telling the truth.

  “Then prove it.”

  The following day both Parker and Sawyer called her. Entertaining a possible future with each of them didn’t sit right and she hated feeling like she was betraying either of them.

  “Did you see him?” Parker asked, his voice traveling through the phone with no detectable emotion.

  “I went there last night—just to talk.”

  “And did you figure anything out?”

  Unsure how much she should disclose, she decided honesty was best. “He wants to prove he’s serious. He wants to take me out this Friday.”

  Parker was silent and the longer he said nothing the harder her guilt gnawed at her insides.

  “If this is too much I can call it off. I don’t—”

  “No,” he interrupted. “Go out with him. I think you need to do this. Words are one thing, actions are something different.”

  Her brow tightened as she questioned his sincerity. Maybe he needed to prove something to himself as well.

  Even with his permission, she could still say no. “What if I realize something neither of us wants to face?”

  He sighed into the phone. “It’s better to be realistic. No illusions, Isa.”

  She didn’t want illusions. She wanted real. She wanted simplicity, but everything was suddenly so complicated. “What are you doing tonight? Can I see you?”

  “That depends.”

  “On?” Maybe seeing him would only obscure things more, but she missed him.

  “On whether or not you open the door.”

  Her head cocked in confusion. “Are you…”

  She went to the front window and drew back the curtain, a silent gasp leaving her lips when she spotted his car. Rushing to the front door, she pulled it open and smiled widely, phone still to her ear. “You’re here!”

  “M’lady.” He tipped his head in a slight bow. “I thought you might be in the mood for pizza.” He lifted the box in his hand and the scent of Italian seasoning wafted to her nose.

  She shut off her phone, not wanting any interruptions and pulled him into the house. “Oh, my God, I’m a mess. I wasn’t expecting anyone.” She shut the door and he placed the pizza box on the foyer table.

  “It turns out I can only go about thirty hours without seeing you before I get squirrely.”

  She put her phone on the table and hugged him. “No one ever surprises me with food.” As much as she was excited about the pizza, she was more excited to see him.

  “Wait, wait…” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and something rattled. “There’s more.” He withdrew two large boxes of movie theater candy. “I wasn’t sure if you were a Good and Plenty girl or more of a Sno Caps woman.”

  She snatched the Sno Caps out of his hand and laughed. “Definitely Sno Caps. I love anything chocolate. You know that.”

  They went to the kitchen and she pulled out plates as he cut the pizza. Her smile lingered as they ate. She loved that he could do something so simple and surprise her so much.

  “What’s that look?” he asked, tossing a chunk of crust on his plate.

  Her mouth tightened in a shy smile as her fingers nudged his on the table. “I think you’re sweet.”

  He grinned, his thumb rubbing over hers. “I think you’re sweet, too.”

  She wondered how long he planned to stay, hoped he’d spend the night. “Is this a dinner only visit?”

  His eyes darkened as he looked at her, dragging out the seconds before he answered. “Do you want it to be?”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “No.”

  “Then, no.”

  The air thickened as she watched him rise and carry the plates to the sink. He returned and plucked the Sno Caps off the counter.

  “Can’t forget these.” Holding out his hand, he winked. “M’lady.”

  Her fingers closed around his and he pulled her to her feet. He led her up the stairs, her heart racing a little more with each step.

  When they crossed the threshold to her bedroom, he let go of her hand and she faced him, suddenly shy. “What now?”

  He stepped closer to her front and tipped up her chin. “Now, you let me kiss you.” His lips closed over hers, softly teasing.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck as he corralled her toward the bed. When she lost her balance, he caught her weight and fell with her to the mattress, laughing.

  “You have too many clothes on,” he murmured, unfastening her jeans and yanking them off in one pull.

  Her blouse rode high on her torso as she watched him strip out of his shirt. His body always amazed her. Not that she first assumed he was poorly built, but under that casual façade hid a world of muscular dips and curves a woman could spend days tracing with her tongue.

  Shoving down his pants, he climbed back onto the bed and pulled off her shirt. His mouth found hers and they rolled across the covers, kissing like a couple of teenagers in their underwear.

  The longer he kissed her the hotter her body burned for more. Every teasing touch along the lace of her panties or the strap of her bra hiked her arousal up another degree. But he never did more than kiss her.

  Their legs molded together, grinding and rubbing in all the right places. Their tongues teased and her mind fell into a blissfully erotic place where only she and Parker existed.

  He gently took her wrist, placing it in the pillows above her head. He did the same with her other hand. “Be a good girl and stay like that.”

  She giggled and stretched beneath him as he unclasped the front of her bra, her excitement doubling. His tongue teased her nipples, slowly, hardly making contact until she was arching into him, mutely begging for more.

  Sliding his thumbs under the mate
rial at her hips, he gradually lowered her panties and took his time working his way back up, kissing parts of her legs that had never been kissed.

  When he hovered just above her sex, he drew in a long breath. “I love the way your scent changes when you’re turned on.”

  Her lips parted. No one had ever made a comment about her scent, let alone there. She lay before him completely naked, yet he took his time teasing and discovering the hidden parts of her body.

  “I’m going to make a meal out of you.” His tongue dragged across her ribs. “First, I’m going to suck on your nipples until they’re cherry red.” He pinched the tips and she sucked in a needy breath. “Then I’m going to eat your pussy.”

  Her lashes flared as her heart rate quadrupled.

  “Open your legs for me, Isa.”

  Her thighs slowly parted and he kneeled between her knees, his fingers trailing up her side as goose bumps scattered along her skin.

  “You have a little cluster of freckles right here. It looks like sprinkled cinnamon.” His head bent low, his soft hair teasing her hungry flesh as his mouth trailed under her breasts, between them, and dangerously close to her nipples. “And these...” His tongue swirled over the tip, making her flesh tighten. “They’re like tiny little raspberries. Sweet. Tight.” He flashed her a half grin. “Biteable.”

  Her mouth opened on a deep gasp as he closed his lips around one nipple and sucked it into a sharp point, his large hands cupping her tender skin and plumping it as his lips tightened. He treated the other to the same pleasure, leaving the tips dark and wet. He purposely blew a slow breath over her skin and made her shiver. Eyes on her, he gently caught the tip of one nipple between his teeth and pulled back until it slipped from his bite with a satisfying pinch.

  He tuned her so tight her insides were quivering. Her sex pulsed, a slow and steady throb begging for contact. He bent and kissed her, taking his time and pulling back with a slow grin.

  “And your mouth… Oh, I could do so much to that mouth.”

  She wasn’t sure if she’d ever been so turned on. The longer he dragged out this slow torture the closer to delirium she fell.

  He slid her knees as wide as her body comfortably allowed. Reaching into his briefs, he gripped his length and dragged his engorged flesh slowly over her slick folds, the tip of his cock teasing her wet sex as his eyes rolled back with a groan.

  “And this… this is my second favorite part.”

  Second? She was panting with need, so it was a little hard to concentrate. “What’s your first?”

  He smiled as though he’d hoped she’d ask. Easing close enough to tease his lips over hers, he whispered, “Your mind.”

  It was the most flattering thing a guy could say. And as her body lay splayed, naked, beneath him, it was the last thing she expected to hear. She didn’t quite understand why her eyes burned with unshed tears, so she reflexively took shelter in his body. Wreathing her arms around his neck she distracted herself from the sensation of being utterly exposed and toppled him to his back.

  Straddling his hips and kissing him deeply, she gloried in the slick press of their bodies, her arousal the evidence of what he did to her. He caught her hips, stilling her, but she couldn’t wait any longer.

  Shoving down his briefs, she reached between them and lifted her body. His cock was so hard, so full of pumping blood, it beat within her grip. She lowered herself onto him, lining up their bodies.

  “Isadora, wait.”

  “I can’t.”

  “We need a condom.” He wrapped his hand around her fingers gripping his cock, stopping her from sliding onto him completely as he reached with his other hand for his jeans.

  She watched as he slipped the latex over his length and entertained the idea of not using a condom. That was the first time it actually occurred to her that Parker could get her pregnant if she stopped taking the pill. We could have babies…

  “Now I’m ready,” he said, dropping his back onto the mattress again. “Hey. Where’d you go?”

  She blinked at him, wondering in the span of a fleeting second what kind of father he’d be, if he wanted children, and immediately deciding it would be a tragedy for a man like Parker not to have kids someday.

  “You okay?”

  She smiled, a tempting possibility opening her future. “I’m perfect.”

  He guided her onto him and she sighed, her body fitting to his in a perfect glide of pleasure. She rode him slowly, balancing her weight on his shoulders as he held her hips and watched her with those mesmerizing eyes.

  It seemed strange this was only the third time they’d slept together. Everything came so naturally with him, like they’d been lovers for a lifetime.

  His eyes closed as his grip tightened. He rhythmically pulled her hips down, speeding up her pace and creating a delicious friction. There was always a sharp moment when he switched gears, lost a bit of himself in the motion and took full control. She loved that moment and gave over to it the second she felt it happening.

  His hips rose off the bed and buried himself deep, the tendons of his neck thrown into pure relief as he filled her. He was so beautiful, so uninhibited.

  As heat pulsed inside of her, she felt her own release coming. Her hips swayed, using his body to put pressure where she needed it most. Her mouth opened and she cried out, taking her pleasure as he lost himself to his own.

  Her muscles gave out and she fell forward, collapsing to his chest and sighing deeply. He cradled her in his arms and kissed her shoulders.

  The way he held her… It was not the way someone held a lover they’d only had a few times. There was something sacred in his gentle hold, something meaningful she was afraid to name. Chances were she’d misinterpret his actions far more than intended and land herself in trouble again.

  Sliding off of him, she rolled to her back and caught her breath. He held her for a while, but eventually slipped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

  When he returned, he jumped onto the mattress, startling her and landing a smacking kiss on her cheek.

  She laughed. He could sometimes be so jovial and silly, but he could also be very serious. It was the perfect combination.

  The rattle of Sno Caps caught her ear and she opened her eyes. Parker sprinkled some into his palm and held the box out to her. “Want some?”

  She lifted her hand, but he brushed it away and dropped one tiny morsel between her lips. Sweet chocolate coated in surgery granules melted on her tongue.

  “Sex and chocolate. I might have died and gone to heaven.”

  He fed her another and snuggled under the covers, facing her. “No dying. I just found you.”

  They rested in bed, eating Sno Caps and talking softly. Her curiosity was endless when it came to Parker and she wanted to know everything about him, how he got here, what his life was like before his dad died. After. She found each little detail fascinating.

  Though he didn’t have much to say about his father—nor did she about hers—he did seem to think fondly of his mother.

  “Do you miss her?” she asked, resting on the side of her arm, teasing her fingers through his hair as she looked into his eyes.

  “Every day.” He shook the empty candy box and placed it on the nightstand. “I try to remember the way she was before everything fell apart. That’s when she was just my mom. After that … she became my greatest worry.”

  Isadora knew plenty about that. Her mother had once been a very nurturing person, but in the end, she was the source of endless concern, always sad and suffering. As a little girl, it had been very hard to cope with the emotions that followed her mother’s death.

  Isadora had been heartbroken, but at the same time relieved. Her mother would no longer hurt after she was gone, yet it hurt not to have her there, a constant in her life, gone forever. Parker probably felt the same about his mother.

  “Tell me something about her from when you were young.”

  His eyes shifted and a soft smile crossed hi
s lips. “She wasn’t a good cook, but she always did her own holidays. She’d send the servants home to be with their families and do her best in the kitchen. One year she forgot to turn on the oven and we didn’t have dinner until after ten o’clock at night.” He laughed. “My dad was so aggravated.”

  She smiled, thinking that sounded like something she would do. “My parents never let any of the employees go home on the holidays. That used to upset me, because a lot of them had children waiting for them on Christmas and other special days. My dad didn’t care. He didn’t get the importance of family traditions. I don’t think either of my parents were necessarily meant to have children.”

  “I think my mom was, but I don’t know about my dad.”

  She hesitated. “Did you always clash with him?”

  “Yes and no. He wasn’t impossible to please, but there were always things I’d rather be doing than sitting in his shadow. He used to get irritated when I had my nose buried in a book. He’d rip them out of my hands and throw them across the room, shoving the business section of the paper in my face. He didn’t hold an ounce of respect for fiction.”

  “That’s terrible.” To each their own, but a parent should never try to stifle a child’s curiosity or love for literature—fiction or not.

  “Not terrible. Some people have it worse. I hated him after he died. Hated his greed and hated his cowardice. But mostly I hated that my mom couldn’t get over what he’d done. It’s hard to explain, but before the cops showed up, he was just my dad and I loved him. I guess there are two sides of him and I sometimes forget to remember the one I liked.

  “But I got over my hate. Kids are resilient. Adults… They’re pretty set in their ways after a certain age.”

  She rolled to her back and folded her hands over her chest. “I think parenting does that.”

  He mimicked her pose, but folded his hands behind his head. “She used to tell me to do things that didn’t make sense in our situation.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She had an iron and would get upset if I didn’t iron my clothes. She’d make a fuss that we didn’t have enough forks when we ate, as if we were still sitting at a formally dressed table and not eating questionable meat out of a can. I don’t know if she had some sort of mental break, or literally felt that those formalities of etiquette were as practical as food and shelter.”