He stayed exactly where he was and continued to glare.
“There’s worrying, and then there’s nagging,” he countered.
My mouth fell open. “I was most certainly not nagging!”
He laughed in my face. “You were. Are.”
“What you call nagging, I call worry,” I countered. “You’re being an ass.”
He growled. “Well, you’re being an entitled little shit! Not everything is about you!”
“Uhh,” I was literally flabbergasted. “I’m the furthest thing you can get away from entitled. I grew up without anything. No mother. No father. Literally, nobody. At least you had that.”
His eyes went intense and he moved until his nose was a small inch away from mine. “You had love. You have six men who stood in for your father. You had just as many women that would’ve given you anything you asked for. You’ve never wanted for anything. You had your college paid for. You have pseudo-uncles in the Dixie Wardens MC. You’ve got more than a lot of people could ever dream of. Yet you’re playing the ‘I have no mother and father’ card? Please.”
I would’ve punched him had he not suddenly read the intention on my face.
He caught my arm, then the other moments later, and pinned them both up above my head. All with an ease that was still so surprising.
“Let go of me.” I yanked on my hands.
“No,” he denied me. “Because if I let you go, you’re gonna hit me or run, and you’re not doing either of those.”
“No?” I asked in a deceptively calm voice.
He tightened his hand around my wrists, ensuring that I wouldn’t be able to yank them free, which had been what I was intending to do once he let his guard down.
But I should’ve known better. I couldn’t hide a damn thing from Parker.
I gave it an experimental tug anyway, causing his grin to spread out over his lips.
I had a sudden idea to headbutt him, but he caught that, too.
Then slammed his mouth down on my own.
I bit his lip, but he didn’t even seem to care.
Not even when I could taste the coppery tang of blood on my tongue.
I gasped, and he took advantage of it by thrusting his tongue into my mouth, running his along mine.
And I lost the urge to hurt him.
I was still extremely mad, but I was horny, too.
There really was only one option. I couldn’t get away from him, so I might as well fuck him instead.
Maybe once we got our aggression out, I’d be able to have a rational conversation with him.
He must’ve thought so, too, because moments after that thought crossed my mind, he started to yank down my jeans. Moments after he got the button undone, and the zipper down, they were already making their way down my legs.
My panties soon followed, but not the same route.
This time, he ripped them free from my body, and I gasped against his lips in surprise.
“Parker, those aren’t cheap!” I cried, my head going back as far as it could to stare at him with anger once again.
He grunted, not bothering to reply, and I narrowed my eyes.
“Keep talking and I’ll gag you with them.”
“You wouldn’t.” I snarled.
His eyes came to mine. “Wanna bet?”
I curled my fingers around his hand and dug my fingernails into his skin.
His mouth curled up, and I caught the cut on his lip with my eyes.
I was held captive by it. I’d done that.
To him.
My smile grew, too.
Good.
Then I heard the sound of his zipper as he slowly tugged it down.
The only thing holding me up was his lower body pressed to mine, so I decided now was the time to try if I was going to get away from him.
With his precarious hold, he wasn’t really expecting me to throw my entire body into the move.
Meaning, one second I was being held by him, and the next I found myself scrambling up from the ground on my hands and knees.
I got no farther than the end of the bed—my goal being the bathroom failing spectacularly—when he caught me with one arm around my waist and took me down to the ground.
“For such a short little shit, you’re spry,” he growled against the back of my neck.
I wiggled experimentally and realized that not only was I even worse off than before, there would be no getting out of this position. Not if he didn’t want me to.
My ass was exposed to him, and the only leverage I had was my knees—but then he took that away moments later by spreading my legs as wide as he could get them, and then placing his own thighs in between my knees so I couldn’t close them.
And then I felt his thick cock touching the cheeks of my ass as he flattened himself on top of me.
“Don’t struggle, or you’ll find out that I’m far from the man you think I am,” he rasped against the shell of my ear.
Yeah, right.
If I didn’t struggle, this would be nowhere near as fun.
For some reason, I wanted him to prove to me that he could dominate me.
I wanted him to hold me down, and then fuck me so hard that it hurt.
I was mad. Horny. And hungry.
Those three things should never happen at the same time when it came to a woman.
Yet Parker didn’t seem to care that I was any of those three things. He was solely focused on himself and keeping me exactly where he wanted me. Which, if I thought about it, was really hot.
I wanted him to do this.
Badly.
But I didn’t want him to think I was too cooperative.
Meaning I continued to struggle while he had to work to keep me where he wanted me.
While I tried to get away, he tightened his hold, immobilizing me completely, and making me realize just how useless my puny strength was when compared to his.
Then he licked my spine, from between my shoulder blades to the back of my neck, then circled it to run along the curve of my ear.
Once he reached my ear, he tugged on my earlobe with his teeth, causing me to gasp for air.
“Stay still,” he ordered.
I would’ve laughed at the fact that he thought I’d obey him at all, but I couldn’t.
Mostly because I felt his fingers at my pussy, and I couldn’t find the right words to make my brain work.
“Soaked,” he breathed into my ear. “You’re pissed at me, but your pussy doesn’t share the same feelings.”
I grunted and tried to wiggle, but he flattened himself even more to hold me in place, compensating only slightly to allow his arm free range to move.
And suddenly I was no longer empty. I was filled with Parker’s fingers as he whispered dark, dirty things in my ear.
“A man like me shouldn’t want this sweet pussy.”
I didn’t reply.
“I should have stayed far, far away from you.”
I bit my lip to keep my moan in.
“But it’s too late now. You’re mine. Your stubborn, angry, pissed off self will just have to get used to it.”
Then he punctuated that comment by curling his fingers up, which caused everything inside of me to clench on his fingers.
I felt his body leave me, and I started to get my hands up underneath of me, taking advantage.
However, he was ready for the move and reached for both of my hands, pinning them behind me at the small of my back.
I felt the wetness on his fingers from when they had been inside of me on my wrist, and I clenched again on nothing.
“Your pussy is dripping, baby,” he teased, transferring my hands to one of his, and then going back to what he was doing earlier—torturing me.
I swallowed thickly and turned my head on the carpeted floor so I could see him.
His eyes were focused on what he was doing down below, though, and not on me, allowing me to watch
him do his thing to me.
And, as if he felt me watching him, he glanced up and caught my eye.
Neither one of us said a thing as he bent his lower half down, and drug his cock up the lips of my sex.
“Fucking. Soaked.”
I swallowed hard.
He repeated the move three more times, coating himself in my wetness, before notching his cock at my entrance.
Keeping his eyes on mine, he slowly sank inside until I couldn’t keep them open anymore.
Every inch that filled me felt like heaven.
He continued to fill me, and I thought he was never going to end.
The eroticism of this position, paired with the anger, was enough to make me ready to detonate with just him filling me.
I felt every single inch of his cock. Every single vein.
I started panting, unable to control the pleasure that was rising up in me like a tidal wave.
Then, with nothing else to do, I started to come.
He didn’t even begin to thrust yet, and I was coming.
That’s when he started to laugh. “That’s all it takes?”
I would’ve flipped him off had I had use of my hands.
I would’ve crawled straight out from under him had he not been holding me in place.
Therefore, I just laid there and took it when he started to fuck me.
Hard.
Fast.
Rougher than anything I’d ever experienced from him before.
And I fucking loved it.
I loved how he took me. I loved how our breathing was ragged. I loved this man—despite him being an ass.
The only thing that was heard after that was the slap of his skin against mine.
His balls hit my clit with each rough thrust and dragged away so deliciously that another orgasm was welling up in me before the first one was completely finished.
My nipples were scraping against the inside of my bra, and then he let my hands go and thrust them into my hair, pulling until my neck was arched, and my face was off the carpet.
I cried out, and everything inside of me went white hot.
My vision dimmed, rolling to black, as the orgasm hit me. This one much stronger than the first.
Then his hands were on my hips, dragging them up into the air as he went up to his knees and really started to show his strength.
Four thrusts later, his entire body stiffened, and he started to come.
But he didn’t do it inside of me. Nope. This time he pulled out and stroked his cock against my ass, shooting his come all the way up the length of my back. He came so hard that it was probably in my hair.
I didn’t care.
Not one. Single. Bit.
And when he collapsed partially on top of me, I couldn’t complain about the lack of oxygen, either.
My mind was trying to recover from being blown.
His touch was a whole lot gentler, though, as he pulled my head to rest against his.
“It’s not my fault you thought I was normal. That’s on you.” I nudged him with my ass.
He grunted in reply but rolled over so that he was no longer on top of me, taking me with him.
I settled on his chest and went completely limp. There was zero fight left inside of me.
When our breathing was back to normal, and his head was resting against my collarbone, I rested my cheek on his head.
“I was scared, you asshole,” I whispered. “You’re all I have.”
I covered my mouth with the palm of my hand.
I hadn’t meant to say that. Not even a little bit.
Shit.
“I’m all you’ll ever need.”
Chapter 22
Do you ever look at a kid and think, ‘that one’s going to be an asshole in a few years?’
-Parker to Kayla
Kayla
“Where are you?” Parker asked.
I looked around me. “Carmen and I are having some bonding time.”
He grunted in my ear. “Not that I have a problem with you taking her, but since she’s registered to me as a service dog, sometimes I’m the one who should be taking her out.”
I laughed.
“You were sleeping on the couch with the man flu. Are you really going to tell me that you were going to be able to take her out today?” I asked, genuinely curious of the answer.
“No,” he paused. “But you’re not even in the apartment’s neighborhood. Your car is gone. Normally when one takes someone else’s dog, they at least leave a note.”
I grinned. “I decided that your new place needed some blinds and curtains for certain…things that we do.”
He sighed. “And did you get blinds?”
“No,” I admitted. “I had to measure first. I was going to buy the blinds next. But I got caught off guard by the prettiness of your road, and I decided to take Carmen on a wee walk. We ended up walking a little farther than I intended. Did you know you have a neighbor about a mile past your house? The house is adorable and well maintained, and it looks like yours could look after you did a little landscaping and maintenance on the outside. You should ask them if they restored it like you’re going to do.”
Parker made a nose in his throat.
“Are you even listening to me?” I asked.
His answer was to throw up. Again.
Poor Peter Parker Penn had strep throat. And, when Parker had strep throat, he threw up. Why did he throw up? Because the beast refused to take Tylenol and Motrin until it was absolutely necessary. Which was after his fever had spiked so high that he’d throw up the medicine and wouldn’t be able to get any more down.
It was a vicious cycle, and honestly, I was tired of dealing with him and his man flu.
His stubborn, pig-headed, never-going-to-change self.
God, I loved him.
Also, he was a loud puker. Like, really loud. I was sure he’d left the phone on the bed where I’d left him an hour ago. His bathroom was in the hallway outside his room, meaning there was at least a room and wall between the phone and him, and I could still hear him.
I grimaced, thought about hanging up, but then the house that we passed when we started this walk came back into view again.
This time, there was a man standing outside.
Something about him made me look away.
I continued to look at him out of my peripheral vision.
Was he wearing a rain jacket?
It wasn’t even raining.
Yet, he looked like he was dressed to go crab fishing on the TV show Deadliest Catch. Long raincoat. Rain boots. He even had rain pants.
What the hell?
I walked faster and noticed how he started walking to a later model black Suburban. I was guessing it was a late nineties model, and the only reason I knew that was because Cheyenne, Janie’s aunt, had one with the same body style.
The Suburban was in wonderful shape, and I was sure that Cheyenne would appreciate it since she had a love for that model seeing as she still drove hers to this day.
But, I couldn’t appreciate it because something about the man was really rubbing me wrong.
I was extremely thankful that Parker’s corner post signaling his land came into view, and I was glad that we’d walked this trail the other day.
I took off down the trail and became buried in the trees, blocking my view of the road.
When Parker came back to the phone two minutes later, and I was rounding the bend to his house, and my car, I was almost overcome with relief.
“Sorry,” Parker said pitifully. “I think I’m dying.”
I was fairly sure that I was hyperventilating.
“Babe?”
I swallowed and looked behind my shoulder one last time, then sighed.
“Sorry. There’s a weirdo that lives next to you,” I told him. “You’re gonna have to build a privacy fence on that side of your property or something, just in case he thinks
you’re friendly.”
He laughed, and it turned into a moan.
“Did you take any meds yet?” I asked. “I left the next dose on your nightstand. You can have both Motrin and Tylenol.”
He grunted something that sounded suspiciously like “damn woman,” but I heard the pills being scraped off the nightstand, followed shortly by the crushing of a water bottle as he drank deeply.
“If I keep it down,” he muttered once he was through.
I stepped over a log, struggling to do it without using my hands, and turned back with a frown when I noticed Carmen was no longer with me.
“Oh, shit,” I moaned.
“What?” Parker barked.
“Carmen’s gone. She was with me, and now she’s not.”
I turned around, backtracking over the same log that I had just climbed over.
“Fuck me,” Parker groaned. Then I heard the bed creak. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
I grunted my own reply, then shoved the phone down into my pocket.
I walked nearly to the property line before I found her. She was standing deathly still, staring through the trees. I glanced in the direction where she was staring, but I couldn’t see a thing. As long as you counted trees as nothing.
I frowned and tried to tug her collar, but she turned on me with a growl.
I lurched back and put some distance between us, not expecting her reaction.
I’d thought we were over this, but apparently, we weren’t.
I pulled out my phone with shaky hands and placed a call to Parker.
He answered on the first ring.
“No rush or anything,” I said. “I found her, but…she won’t let me near her.”
He growled in frustration. “What the fuck? I thought she was okay with you.”
My sentiments exactly.
“I’m at the corner of your property line, hidden by the thicket. I’ll wait for you.”
And I did, nearly laughing when he walked up less than ten minutes later, looking like he’d crawled out of his deathbed.
His face was pale, his eyes were sunken, and he had a fine sheen of sweat covering his forehead.
“Hey,” I said softly. “You made good time.”
He gave me a halfhearted smile. “Drove fast.”
His eyes moved from me to Carmen, and he whistled at her. “Carmen?”
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