by Haley Jenner
“Thinking pretty hard there, Parker Shay.”
My leg stops its incessant movement and I glance up in time to see Codi slide into the seat beside me. Not across from me. Beside me. I can smell her this way. Sweet. She smells sweet. Like candy. A Jolly Rancher maybe. It’s fucking intoxicating as all hell. Bracing my elbows on the table, I lean closer, inhaling her, a small smile drifting onto my lips.
“Hey, Sugar.”
Her smile breaks open, pleased at the endearment and I make note to use it more often. Especially if that megawatt smile is my reward.
“You’re early,” she exclaims, a little surprised.
Lifting an eyebrow, I shift my chair closer to hers. “So are you.”
She moves her head side to side, in this adorable as fuck gesture as she thinks. “I thought if I got here first, I’d be able to calm my nerves, but then I walked in, and you were already here. Not gonna lie, I stood near the door for almost five minutes, trying to build up the courage to approach.”
I enjoy her honesty. Her lack of need to fabricate the truth to make her sound, I don’t know, cooler. She’s one hundred percent comfortable with herself and I like that. I envy it. Like the genuineness of her smile. I feel a constant need to pretend, to show a false image of who I am. To protect myself, or others, I’m not quite sure.
“Gonna grab us coffee, what do you want?”
She purses her teasingly crafted lips, moving them side to side in thought. “Caramel latte, three sugars. Please,” she finishes on a smile, dropping her chin into her palm.
I blink quickly in shock. Holy fucking gross, but turn to walk toward the barista. I stop after a step, looking over my shoulder. “Real fuckin’ glad you reached out.”
Her amused smile softens, her cheekbones shading and she bites her lower lip, nodding delicately. “Me too.”
Placing her coffee directly in front of her, I lean down, inhaling the addictive sweet scent of her skin. “Sugar with a shot of coffee.”
She giggles. The sound shocking me again in its appeal. Like honey; tender and smooth. It’s so happy, so real, so fucking sweet.
Glancing at my cup, dwarfed in size against my inked palm, she leans closer. “Flat white. No sugar. Not so hardcore you drink it black.” She shivers in repulsion at the thought. “But no need for an added sweetener like sugar or syrup.” Her perfectly shaped eyebrow raises in question, challenging me to disagree.
“Long macchiato, no need for sweetener, sugar, sweet enough all on my lonesome.” I wink and she barks out a quiet laugh. “Just wait till you taste me,” I add, leaning in to run my lips along her ear as I whisper my words.
She pulls away, her hair falling around her face as she ducks it away, hiding her reaction.
Clearing her throat, she takes a sip of coffee before finally looking at me again. A red stain still decorates her face and she smiles tightly.
“So, Parker Shay, tell me about yourself.”
I watch her silently, drinking from my cup, my mind suddenly a mess of irritation and uncertainty.
I’m pissed she seems more in control of this situation, of us, than I do. Bitches don’t order me around. They don’t avoid me for days, to gift me a small window of their precious time, when and how they see fit. They sure as shit don’t demand I give them more of me then they have of them, especially when I haven’t fucked ‘em, shit, I’ve barely touched her, couldn’t tell you what her lips taste like. But most importantly, Codi Rein shouldn’t be dictating this relationship. This is my game. My vengeance. My rules. Yet, every second that passes, in and out of her presence, I feel my control slipping. How the fuck she took the upper hand without even knowing it, is driving me to insanity.
Sitting back in my seat, I release my cup, hands cupping the back of my head. Her eyes watch the movement, her focus scanning along the bulge of my biceps under my dark Henley.
“Prefer to know about you.” I wait until her eyes meet mine before I speak again, the sound of my voice cracking in its animosity. I’m pissed off. At myself. At her. And it’s shown. In my voice, the tone, and no doubt the irritated glare on my face.
Her features morph from intrigued interest to a guarded contemplation. Her eyes don’t break away from mine as she considers me and I know I should apologize. I’ve reverted to ultimate dick. But, in all honesty, I’m actually too afraid to say anything, fearing any further movement or sound will push her into the direction I least want. Away.
“I think I’ll go,” she speaks after a loaded pause, moving to stand and panic rises in my throat.
I grab onto her hand. “Wait.” The dejected sound in the sigh of my voice is almost humiliating in its desperation, and she looks to my large tattooed palm, easily covering her ivory skin, just before she moves to pull her hand away.
“Please.” Once again, I’m mortified by my plea, by the fear in my tone, but it gives her pause, her eyes flicking to mine to read my intention. Whatever she sees there must be enough to convince her to stay, her body dropping back into her seat. I imagine the worry in my voice is also portrayed clear enough in my eyes and that’s given her reason to sit back down. To listen to whatever my argument is to convince her to give me another chance.
I entwine my hand with hers, interlocking our fingers, all the while watching the movement. It’s strange to find comfort in holding someone’s hand. To find strength in the smallest of intimacies. But I do. As the contrast of my inked and her clean skin connect more forcefully, Codi squeezing my hand in reassurance, I feel nothing but a sense of calm filtering through my veins.
“I’ve built some pretty high walls over the years. I’ve spent even more time reinforcing them. Learned that’s my greatest form of defense against a world I was born into.”
Her face softens, the hand not holding mine coming to rest on top of our knotted ones. She rubs her thumb along the top of my wrist, watching me expectantly to continue.
I sigh, moving in as close as I can, dropping my free hand to her knee, and squeezing. “Just askin’ you not to give up on me. I don’t know what’s growin’ between us, Codi, but I like you.”
She smiles affectionately. “I like you, too,” she admits softly.
“Opening up to people ain’t somethin’ I’m used to. Just gotta,” I pause, rethinking my words. “I’m just askin’ that you give me time.”
She scans my face, her deep blue eyes blinking delicately. “I got time.”
“Glad to hear it, Sugar.”
“Look, Parker, I’m not trying to discover all your dark secrets, but if we’re gonna explore this, I’d like to get to know you. If you’re not comfortable telling me something, just say so. But, in saying that, you gotta give me a little of something.”
“Parker Shay,” I state. “No middle name. Friends call me Bob.” I smile, winking at the playfulness dancing in her eyes. “Thirty-two, birthday’s in August. I have one sibling, an older brother, Rocco. He’s intense, a little psychotic even. As you’ve witnessed.” She watches me with rapt attention, taking in every empty detail I feed her with eager interest.
“Rocco is my only living blood relative and that ain’t somethin’ I’m comfortable talkin’ about yet. Discovered recently, my favorite color is red. I’m moody. A lotta shit pisses me off. On the regular. I box to relieve the frustration but hoping we work out, I’ll find another way to blow off steam,” I wink and she blushes, the line in her throat exaggerated by her deep swallow.
“Self-employed. As you know, I co-own Ruin with my brother.”
I drop my eyes to our entwined hands. “I like the contrast of my inked skin against the fresh ivory of yours.” I drop my voice. “I really fuckin’ dig your laugh and the way your smell sidetracks my thoughts on the regular. Finally, I’m really looking forward to the moment my lips touch yours.”
There’s barely a breath between us; my lips ajar, breathing in the fan of her soft, stuttered breaths. She leans in, almost touching her mouth to mine, her eyes closing briefly before pulling back. Lustful
eyes look to where her lips almost touched before she moves right back.
“Codi Rein,” she starts, her voice thicker than normal, and I shift in my seat, the deep longing scratching her vocal cords, turning me on more than I’d care to admit. “Also, no middle name,” she continues, oblivious to my raging hard-on. “Friends call me Sugar,” she smiles shyly. “Twenty-five, birthday is in February. I too have one sibling. An older sister, Camryn. She’s a nurse and by all outward appearances seems pissed off at the world, but she has a good heart.”
I imagine I’m looking at her in a similar way she was me when I was dropping my bio, drinking in everything she’s saying with solid interest. Most facts I already know, but hearing her voice tell them to me, makes me want to know more.
“My favorite color is a multitude.” She glances down at my ink, a finger coming up to drag along the rainbow of colors decorating my hand. “I’m naïve. Unintentionally. I’m just a little inexperienced with life as a whole. I don’t exercise and I devour sugar like it’s oxygen. Comments like you just made make me happy but also make me blush.”
I squeeze her knee and color floods her cheeks. “So does that.” She ducks her face to hide her smile and I like that way too fucking much. “I work at Blaq, and have for years. It’s stress-free and I love it. I don’t swear but have no issue with hearing other people do it.”
I watch her expectantly, wanting her to give me what I want and she laughs quietly, leaning in closer. “I, too, like the contrast of our skin. Your smile, your real one”—she clarifies on an arched brow— “while not common makes me want to victory dance when I see it. It’s more of a sneaky smirk, it’s playful and I really enjoy seein’ it. I’ve inhaled the way you smell more times than I’d be comfortable admitting and I thoroughly enjoy the way you look.”
She meets my eyes, staring at me for a long enough moment that I think she’s finished, but she takes a breath to speak, her voice soft as she finishes. “But what I like most is that even though you aim to intimidate the hell outta me, for some unknown reason, I see kindness in your eyes. It’s not something you show many people, so it feels good that you shine it my way.”
My intention was always to make her feel cautious of me. Maybe to stop myself from feeling like such a monster when it comes time to strip her life away, so I’m a little caught off guard by her view of me in that moment. I never meant to show her something I didn’t think I had inside. I never meant to misrepresent myself so forcefully. Yeah, I want her interested. Just not invested.
Six
Codi
“Your stalker’s out front,” Pia states with an eye roll, sauntering behind the counter to drop her purse.
I glance at her, confused. “Sorry?”
“Your stalker, hot, scary lookin’ dude that was creepin’ up the shop a week or so back.”
I glance to the shop window, searching for any sign of him. “Parker?”
She looks to me, puzzled, evidently having moved past our conversation seconds before. “What?”
I shake my head, dismissing her. “Nothing. I’m going to lunch.”
I break the threshold, my eyes scanning the vicinity for Parker.
“Lookin’ for me?” His breath tickles my ear and I shiver, the whisper of his words skating the whole way down my body.
I haven’t seen him since the coffee shop almost a week ago. Our work hours aren’t exactly complimentary and he’s been short-staffed, working every overnight shift at Ruin.
I turn, smiling wide and stopping myself from my want to launch myself at him. “I thought you’d still be sleeping.”
He shrugs, his large hand coming up to twist a lock of my hair between his fingers, before tucking it behind my ear. “Rocco came back last night from wherever the fuck he was, so he’s pickin’ up the slack now.”
Smiling up at him, I’m surprised at how pleased I am to see him. We’ve been speaking via text message. He’s still virtually a stranger, yet I’ve been craving the chance to see him. To be given the chance to smell him, to touch him.
“I don’t listen to music when I work out.”
My smile falters slightly and I blink up at him, confused. “Sorry?”
“Random fact to know me better, I don’t listen to music when I work out.”
I can’t stop the smile that repositions itself on my face. “That’s odd.” I scrunch my nose up. “So, it’s just white noise floating around you?”
He shrugs, moving to clasp my hand in his. “I prefer to hear the sounds of my workout. My labored breathing, the crack of my knuckles against a punching bag.”
“I don’t work out,” I reply with a lift of my shoulders. “Random fact about me.”
Parker pulls my arm around his waist, moving his own to drape across my shoulders. I lift my hand, the one not wrapped around his waist, to hold his hand hanging over my body and he leans into me, sniffing my hair.
“I missed you,” I confess. “Is that weird? Considering we barely know one another.”
I tip my head to meet his eyes and he pushes his bottom lip out with a quick shake of his head. But he doesn’t speak and he doesn’t tell me he’s missed me back. It’s silly that I’m hurt by that. I shouldn’t expect more.
We’ve walked a dozen silent steps before he speaks, clearing his throat awkwardly as he does. “Like that you’ve been thinkin’ about me.”
I glance down to my shoes to hide the involuntary smile that appears on my face at his declaration.
“Been thinkin’ about you too,” he admits, easing my anxiety. “Mostly been thinking that I’ve seen you a few times now and I still haven’t tasted your lips.”
My feet halt their movement and he turns toward me. I glance along the street, searching and I smile wide when I find it. Grabbing his hand, I pull him behind me and he follows without argument. Moving into the entrance of the alleyway, I plaster my back against the wall, bottom lip caught between my teeth, looking up at him through my lashes. He steps into my body without a need for invitation. Every hard plane of his large frame pushes heavily against every soft curve of mine. It’s intoxicating. It electrifies every nerve in my body. Parker Shay is beautiful. Menacing, but attractive in a way that causes him to seem unattainable. Yet, here he stands, pressed up against my body and focused solely on my lips.
My body. My lips.
My hands move on their own accord, up the solid press of his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck, bringing his face closer to mine. A large palm hits the wall beside my head, the other gripping my jaw tightly.
I could swear in that single moment before his lips meet mine, my heart stops beating. It pauses in my chest, and I stutter around a missed breath. His lips twitch, amusement at the effect he has on me, just as his mouth touches mine.
Electrified. Invigorated. Inflamed.
I don’t know exactly how I feel as Parker’s lips open against mine. What I’m certain of is that nothing I’ve ever felt in the past has come close to the spark that hits me when his tongue lashes into my mouth. It’s gentle, without being soft. Hard, without being obtrusive. It’s devastating. Skilled in a way that tells me he’s done it plenty of times before. In that moment, I don’t care, quite the opposite, in actual fact. I’m grateful to the women that have come before me. Because Parker Shay has just slain me with the beginning of a simple kiss. A quick, rhythmic slice of his tongue against mine and I’m certain that never in my life will another man feel this good.
I meet his fraught need with my own desperation. I kiss him in a way that shows him that I’ve been dreaming about tasting his lips. That I’ve been hating on the fact that in the few times we’ve spent time together, he hadn’t kissed me. It depressed me. It wounded my ego. It made me needy. It made me crazy with want.
This, I tell him through my kiss. He gets it. He groans his understanding. He growls his agreement. I match his sounds with my own, soft unrestrained moans that vibrate against his talented tongue.
The thick bulge in his jeans grows wi
th every brush of our tongues, with every caress of our lips. It pushes into my stomach, relentlessly, persistently, daring me to ignore its presence. Discounting the effect of his swollen arousal would be futile.
I may be inexperienced, but I’m still a woman. A hot-blooded female that has finally found someone to spike a need that up until now has lain relatively dormant. One with desires that enjoys kissing and touching enough to know she’d enjoy more. Much, much more. Specifically, a more with Parker Shay.
Parker’s hand flexes at my jaw, his hips thrusting forward, demanding I feel him and I whimper into his mouth, my tongue ceasing its dance with him to open on the pathetically needy sound.
He drags my bottom lip between his teeth, slowly, letting go to wrap his lips over the same spot in a gentle kiss.
“Sugar,” he grinds, the sound as affected as the moan I’d gifted him only seconds prior. “You kiss like that, you ain’t exactly helping my cause. Now that’s all I’ll be thinking about. Amongst other things.” His eyes glide down the length of my body in a way that makes certain I feel his stare. Goosebumps break along my skin and I shiver. He laughs, the sound almost silent, definitely pained and he shakes his head as he steps back.
“Let’s go eat, your lunch break ain’t got half the time I need to do all the things I want to you.”
Grabbing my hand, he leads me from the alley, not caring to look for oncoming foot traffic. Footsteps falter at our sudden appearance, missteps and stumbles caused from our charge into their path earning us more than a few muttered curse words. Parker pays no attention to the grumbles and expletives, holding my hand tight and pulling me up to his side.
