“Let me see.”
Her gaze met his and he waited. A smile twitched on her lips and slowly her skirt lifted. He reached over the console and hiked it to her waist. Wet, soft lips glistened in the light filtering through the windshield. He was enjoying their little exhibition, but he needed more room for everything he wanted to do to her.
Tucking his cock away. He opened the door.
As soon as the interior light kicked on, her thighs clamped together and she covered herself. He rounded the vehicle and opened her door, offering her a hand. They needed to get inside.
Her eyes were full of promise as she glided to her feet and looked up at him with palpable trust. Her skirt fell to her knees, once again hiding any signs of impropriety.
He escorted her in silence and she patiently waited as he unlocked the door. The hall was dark and he didn’t bother with the lights. He never let go of her, pressing his front to her back as soon as he shut the door.
“Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”
His fingers teased the hem of her skirt as she leaned her weight into him. Lifting the material, he cupped her hot little pussy, the heat of her arousal warming his palm. She sighed and sagged into him, her body leaning in between him and the wall.
“I want to fuck you, Isadora. Hard and deep.”
Her breath left in a delicate quiver. He moved his hands to her blouse and lifted it over her head, tossing it aside. Her breasts were so perfect, not too big, not too small. He loved seeing them in all that expensive white lace.
He pinched her nipples through the material and she moaned. He thought about their dinner conversations. Not the bullshit with her brother, but the important little hints he learned about her.
“Are you trying to tell me something with all these books you’ve been making me read?”
Her head lulled to his shoulder, her breath coming faster as he teased her nipples. She didn’t answer, so he pinched harder and she moaned.
“Do you want me to take you like one of those men in your stories?” He was starting to see the appeal.
She moaned again and he took that as agreement.
“As you wish, m’lady.”
Giving her no chance to object, he twisted and tucked an arm under her hips, hoisting her over his shoulder. She gasped and giggled as he carried her up the stairs. There was no stopping until he dropped her onto his bed.
He grabbed her ankles and yanked her to the edge of the mattress. Pulling her legs apart, he bent close to her sex and breathed her in. His tongue swiped over her clit, quick and enough to get her full attention.
“So fucking sexy.”
Stripping off his clothes, he climbed over her, nudging her slit with the tip of his cock, teasing with a preview of what was to come. His mouth closed over the sheer lace of her bra, his fingers sliding the straps down her arms. Reaching behind her, he unclasped the garment and tossed it away.
Sharp, little nipples beaded tightly and his need grew into a steady throb. “I have to get inside of you.”
“Do it,” she all but growled, fingers digging into his shoulders as her leg hooked over his hip.
He shoved into her, burying his cock to the root and she gasped, her lips parting as her eyes closed. He didn’t go gently and she didn’t object. As a matter of fact, his forcefulness was spurred by her pleas that he not stop.
He pumped a few more times, getting his dick nice and wet, then withdrew. Rising, he straddled her waist and teased the valley of her breasts with his glistening cock. “Taste.”
Her eyes darkened as her lashes flared. Resting his palm by her head, he gripped himself and leaned over her mouth, tracing the smooth tip of his cock against her full lips. Her tongue snaked out and he pressed in, making a slow glide to the back of her throat.
“Jesus, Isa.”
She moaned and gripped his ass, pulling him into her as he slowly stabbed in and out. If she kept at it he’d come before her.
He groaned in pleasure and withdrew, returning to her breasts. “Hold them tight.”
“They’re not big enough.”
“They are.” And he was coming to learn how much she liked nipple play, so she’d probably love this.
She cupped her breasts, pressing them together around his length, a satisfied and daring glint in her eye. “Like this?”
“That’s it. Good girl.” He slid between her flesh, loving the feel of her skin against his. The fit was so tight, so close and a different sort of intimate. Wanting to make it good for her, he found his rhythm and pinched her nipples, pulling just enough to make her gasp.
“Does that hurt?”
“In a good way.”
He pulled and fucked, but once again he came close to losing control and he wanted to drag out the pleasure as long as possible. Rising, he dipped back into her mouth and she welcomed him with palpable hunger.
When he returned to her breasts, he was distracted by the dark tips. “Just a taste.”
He sucked and bit and nibbled and pulled, pretty sure he could make her come this way, but not wanting her to climax yet. He wanted it to build until they couldn’t handle another second of pleasure. Back to her mouth.
The longer he teased her like that the more frantic she became. Her body twisted and arched beneath his, every inhibition melting away.
Pumping his flesh between her breasts, he reached back and teased her wet sex. His finger shoved deep and she let out a needy moan.
He shimmied down her body and opened her knees, baring her soft pink flesh. His tongue stabbed into her, his fingers rubbing her clit hard as he licked over every delicate fold.
Sitting up on his knees, he slipped two fingers inside of her, stretching until he found that hidden bundle of nerves. He continued to rub her clit with the added pressure of his fingers and she arched off the bed, crying out his name as she came in an unrestrained rush of abandon.
“Again.” He pumped his fingers harder, his mouth lowering to pull greedily at her clit.
He nibbled and savored every taste of her pleasure, working another finger into her tight pussy and pressing deep. Her lips parted as she moaned a mixture of broken syllables and gasps.
Her release slicked his fingers and her thighs. Her tired body went limp, sprawled beneath him, satisfied and spent.
Scooping her into his arms, he pulled her over his knees and sat up with her. “Stay with me.”
Her lashes fluttered as her arms lazily wrapped around his neck and she straddled him. Face to face, kneeling in the center of the bed, they held each other.
He looked into her eyes, his hands cradling her lithe body to his as she lowered all the way onto him. Buried deep inside of her, his body trembled, emotion tunneling through him with a devastating burn.
His fingers brushed the damp tendrils of hair from her face, his lips pressing to hers, traveling to her cheeks and eyes, her ears and jaw.
“I love you,” he rasped, pulling her as close as their bodies allowed.
Her spine arched as she slowly rode him, her motions divine and languid. Situated on the center of the bed, facing each other as they were, he felt his heart shift, all the broken pieces drifting away like dust.
She breathed into his soul. Filled him with unexpected happiness. She was his everything and he wanted to be hers.
The words left unsaid seemed to pass between them in the silence and something shifted inside of him, something he felt very deeply that hadn’t moved in quite some time. Security.
Her fingers combed over the back of his head as she pressed her lips to his. Passion poured from her, breaking down the last of his barriers.
His heart stammered behind his ribs as something choked him. Fear. Happiness. It was the first time in his life he had something so priceless the thought of losing it terrified him to the core. It was the burden of love and, as it settled over him, he accepted he’d wear it like a mantel for the rest of his life.
“You could break my heart so easily,” he murmured, his lips tracin
g the delicate curve of her ear.
Her dark gaze found his as she turned his face to hers. “Your heart’s something I’m very protective of, Parker. I never want to break it.”
The pressure in his chest tightened, making it difficult to swallow as his breath labored. Her eyes shimmered as she looked at him the way no one else ever had.
“I love you, Isa.”
“I love you… I love you… I love you,” she whispered, brushing her nose along his cheek until her lips were so close to his ear he could hear her breath tremble past her lips. “You have all of me. There’s no hiding. And I’d never let anyone hurt you, including myself.”
His hand curled around the back of her neck, his throat constricting as he struggled to breathe. His vision wavered as he kissed her deeply, easing her body onto the bedding.
His lashes clung together as he filled her again, slowly, savoring every upstroke and glide. Her name played inside of him with every downbeat of his heart until the pressure in his chest escaped in a sigh that seemed lodged in his throat for far too many years.
She stripped him bare yet again. All his life he’d been hiding, protecting himself from a cruel world, but she somehow changed that. She saw behind his armor, found every scrape and scar, and loved him anyway.
When the first tear fell he lost a battle he’d fought for as long as he could remember. Her fingertips traced his cheek as she smiled up at him with pure acceptance.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”
What was happening to him? Where was this coming from?
His face pressed to her throat as he caught his breath. It was a certain kind of surrender. A torturous gift that encompassed more than he could bear. Maybe that was why love took two people, because it was so big, so overwhelming, it needed two hearts to carry all it conveyed.
Her lips pressed to his temple, laying soft kisses as she held him tight. “Do you feel that?”
He didn’t know if she felt what he was feeling, but whatever had a hold of him, it was the biggest emotion he’d ever known. It was jagged and beautiful and built out of two broken souls that somehow fixed each other and made one. “I feel it.”
“That’s us, Parker. Only we feel like that.”
Her mouth found his and the last of his walls came tumbling down, all the pressure dissolving into peace. She was his peace. And maybe—just maybe—he could be hers.
Chapter Seventeen
“Sometimes Pearl is upset about things I can’t feel. But I love her and so I help her. Even when it hurts. That’s all I know about love.”
Scout
They overslept the following morning and Parker wasn’t sure what time it was when Isa’s phone started ringing. At first, she ignored it and they’d fallen back asleep, but later it rang again and again, echoing from her purse downstairs.
“I should get that,” she groaned, lazily running a finger over his chest.
“Or you could ignore it.”
She giggled, sliding her leg over his, only to growl as the phone rang once more. “No one ever calls me.”
That wasn’t true. Bishop called her, just not recently. Parker hoped this wasn’t the return of a bad habit.
She slid from the bed and he laughed as she pranced naked to his closet and came out in an old cable knit sweater that reached her knees.
Folding his arms behind his head, he admired her long legs, thinking the only thing that would make her a prettier picture would be his ring on her finger. “Aren’t you sexy.”
“Let me just see who it is. If it’s nothing, I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time.”
She left and he stretched, the satisfied man inside of him purring happily until his stomach growled, demanding sustenance. Climbing out of bed, he found a pair of jeans and slid them on. As he took the stairs he collected her shoes, which had fallen off on their way to bed last night.
He kept quiet in case she was on the phone with someone important. She sat on a chair in the den, her back to him, as he crossed the room. His hand lovingly brushed over her shoulders and she stiffened.
Frowning, he turned and looked at her face. She drew the phone away from her ear, her hands shaking as she pressed a button.
“Who was it?”
Her brow pinched as she focused on the phone and tried to dial with unsteady fingers. “My brother. He called six times. Something’s wrong.” Flustered, she pressed a button on her phone. “Jesus Christ. I can’t even dial!”
“Shhh… Don’t get yourself worked up until you know what he wants. It’s probably nothing.” He took her phone and pressed Lucian’s name. “Here. It’s ringing.”
She held the device to her ear and stood. “Lucian—” She paced then stilled. “I’m standing. What is it? Is Evelyn okay? The baby?”
Parker’s brow shot up. There was a baby?
Why the hell didn’t anyone say anything last night? Now it made sense why Scout kept ordering water while the rest of them had cocktails and wine. And her waist had felt thicker when he’d hugged her.
His stomach tightened, as he understood something was clearly wrong. Shit. This wasn’t good.
He watched Isadora for any sign of assurance that everyone was safe and nothing had happened to Scout. But as the color fled from her face he felt the blood rushing from his.
“Wh—what?” she choked. Her lips quivered. “I heard you, I just—”
Her lithe body shook fiercely, her fingers white knuckling the phone. Pink shot through the whites of her eyes in an instant and Parker’s concern multiplied.
A tear fell, her teeth chattering as if she were suddenly freezing.
A sharp sense of nausea gripped his stomach as he braced for the worst possible scenario. It can’t be Scout. Her father? Would she have this sort of response? God, what if something happened to Scout? No.
He wasn’t breathing so well. Seeing her so upset and not knowing the cause threw his heart into a rapid tremor.
Was it something with Lucian? Or maybe Toni? Whatever it was it was bad. Fear rocked him to his core, his mind certain it was Scout. Life was never fair. Fuck! Fuck!
All the wasted time over the past two years flashed through his mind in an instant. They were so stupid to let her marriage come between their friendship. He couldn’t handle anything happening to her—to any of them. Fuck!
Isadora’s face was white as snow, no expression aside from pure anguish. Whatever it was, he might not be able to fix it.
“Th—thanks for calling me,” she wheezed, zero inflection in her voice.
Her hand lowered as the call ended. She stared at him, through him.
“Isa?” He waited, not breathing. He’d never seen her so distraught. “Please talk to me. What happened?”
Her gaze focused, barely, and she shook her head, her jaw trembling.
His voice strained as he asked one of the hardest questions of his life. “Did something happen to Scout?”
She shook her head slowly and sucked in a jagged breath. “Evelyn’s … fine.”
Thank God. But something happened to someone.
Her lips tightened as her eyes glazed with another sheet of tears. “It’s Sawyer,” she rasped.
Parker stilled, his first assumption that this was a family situation shattered. “Bishop?”
Her arms banded around her stomach as she stumbled to a chair, dropping into it and letting the phone fall to the floor. She doubled over and moaned as if in agony.
Panicked, he crouched in front of her, worried whatever happened was more than she could handle. Her brother had no idea how much the man meant to Isadora, he couldn’t possibly have known not to embellish whatever the situation was.
“Is he hurt? Was there an accident?”
She gasped and rocked. “He’s… Oh, God.” She wheezed out a sob. “He’s…” A sound came from her as if wrung from the deepest depth of her soul. It was wrought with despair and so broken it managed to jar a part of his heart loose. “He die
d,” she gasped.
Parker rocked back in shock. “What?”
It was unbearable seeing her like this, and horrifying to be on the opposite end of her pain. For as much as he resented Bishop, he’d never wished for this outcome.
He was fucking dead? How?
She choked on a moan as she sucked in a deep breath, her fingers flying to her mouth. “I’m going to be sick.”
He snapped out of his daze and flew into action. Rubbing a hand over her back, he tried to soothe her as best he could. “Shh… Breathe, Isa. Deep breaths.”
She gasped, hyperventilating, and bolted out of the chair, but didn’t make it far. She pivoted, muttered a few whispered words and paced.
Her head shook as she mumbled another incoherent sentence. He didn’t know what to do and wanted to call Lucian and blame him for carelessly hurting her, but even he knew this wasn’t her brother’s fault.
Guilt filled him as he thought about how Bishop looked the other week when he’d confronted him. He hadn’t thrown a punch like a man meant to leave this world anytime soon. As a matter of fact, his strength and force had shocked Parker.
“I don’t understand. Was there an accident?”
“I don’t know. I need to call Lucian back.” She searched for her phone, not seeing it right in front of her.
“Here,” he said, picking it up off the floor and handing it to her.
She dropped it. “Goddamn it!”
Falling to her knees, she gasped and he pulled her to him, taking the phone and holding her tight. “Let me.”
She rocked and lost the battle against her sobs. Pressing her face into her palms she leaned into his lap and moaned. The heat of her tears scalded through the denim of his jeans.
He ran his left hand over her back and dialed her brother. “Shh. I’m calling Lucian. We’ll find out what happened.”
The phone rang for a split second. “Isa?”
“Lucian, it’s Parker.”
There was a long pause. “What are you doing with my sister’s phone?”
Queen of the Knight (Surrender Games Book 2) Page 21
