“Parker! Open up. I left my purse.”
The window doesn’t roll down. Squinting through the dark tinted glass, I see him pull something from the back seat. I wonder if he got sick. He didn’t seem drunk, but he is wiping something off of his lap. Puke maybe?
“Hello! Are you okay?”
The window slides down in between its plastic tracks and there he is, wide-eyed and shocked. Why are his cheeks flushed, like he just ran a marathon? His forehead is clammy; I can see little beads of sweat on it. He must not feel well.
“Are you okay?” He pauses, thinking way too hard for an answer and then chuckles.
“What’s so funny?
“Nothing. Perfect timing.” He smirks.
“Uh, okay. I just left my clutch in here and my keys are in it. It’s over there on the floorboard. Would you mind grabbing it?”
He leans over to pick up my forgotten purse and then holds it out of the window without a word. Silence hangs in between us. The moment almost feels uncomfortable, but I don’t want to be rude and leave him out here. If he was still sitting in his truck he must have been too ill to drive. The least I could do is invite him upstairs. We stare blankly into each other’s eyes, and I wonder what he is thinking as I silently debate whether or not to ask a total stranger to stay the night with me. All reasoning went out the window the moment my blue eyes met his.
“You don’t look like you feel well. Would you like to come upstairs and at least get a glass of water? You might be dehydrated from drinking.” He looks down at the seat in front of him, but he doesn’t respond. The window slowly rolls up.
Is he seriously ignoring me?
I step back and allow myself to feel…what? Anger? Why am I angry? So he is a jerk, okay. It’s not like he’s the first or the last I’ll ever meet, and it’s not like I’m inviting him up to have sex. It’s just some water, and he is bluntly being rude. The sound of his truck unlocking grabs my attention. He steps out of the driver’s side door and is standing in front of me, just as sexy as before. It’s like sex appeal just oozes off of him. Even with wrinkly jeans and dirty boots – my doing – his demeanor still draws me to him.
“I’d like that glass of water.”
“Sure. Umm, follow me.” We walk in silence back to the glass doors and ride in the elevator to my floor. I bend to pick up my heels that are still resting in the hallway and dig in my purse to find my keys. When I open the door, the smell of Hawaiian Breeze from our plug-in air freshener hits me in the face.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” I joke, holding my arms out on either side of my body and motioning around the open space. I’m not going to lie – our apartment is gigantic. Too big for us, that much is evident, but it’s nice, and it’s home. Laying my purse and shoes on the floor, I walk barefoot across the cold hardwood to the kitchen. We have an open floor plan so the only thing separating us is an island with granite countertops.
“Is water okay?” My words sound different, almost seductive. Something I am for sure not used to being or meaning to sound like. He nods and his lips slowly part, giving my eyes full access to his tongue. I reach up into the cabinet and grab a cup, then run my finger under the cold water streaming from the faucet. Sliding the plastic cup in his direction, I use a little too much force and water splashes over the rim of the cup. He doesn’t move to pick it up. Instead he takes a step towards me, his eyes never leaving mine. His stare is so intense, I briefly look away from his eyes and see his Adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallows. Debating on picking up his glass of water, I do my best to play it cool, but my body burns. I can actually feel my temperature rising. My breath catches as my hands move behind my body to brace myself on the refrigerator. He pauses to gauge my reaction to his movement, and then takes another step closer. I don’t know what to do or think of this situation. If we are being honest, I really want to reach out and run my hands down his chest. A chest I am sure is hard and chiseled safely tucked away from the world, hidden under his button-up. But I am scared. I have almost zero knowledge about stuff like this. Being I have only willingly had sex with two other men and there was nothing romantic about either of those encounters. One left me a sobbing mess for years and the other I regretted almost immediately. For some reason I feel a sense of safety. I don’t think he would hurt me. I know I don’t know him, and he is huge. He could surely crush me and leave me for dead if he wanted, but he doesn’t seem like the murderer type. If he really wanted me dead, he wouldn’t have introduced himself as Carson’s brother. There is a distinct connection there. Not to mention I know his buddy, Spencer, and where his business is. If he did anything stupid, certainly the cops could find him with that little bit of information.
What has gotten into me tonight?
My mind has no more time to think because he moves closer, again. In one swift motion our faces are so close I can feel the tip of his nose brushing against mine. His scent reminds me of fresh linens. Parker grabs one of my hands and slowly brings it up towards his mouth. Placing the pads of my index finger and my middle finger on the center of his lips, he kisses them softly as his eyes stare into mine. There is something so intimate about the gesture, I almost feel like crying. Not because I am sad, but simply because the raw kindness that comes off of him pulls at my heart in ways I didn’t think were possible. The sound of his lips making a soft kissing noise fills the air, and as soon as his eyes open, I instantly throw my body against him. I jump in his arms like he is my knight in shining armor saving me from the fire spitting dragon and his embrace is the only thing that can save my soul. His arms open and hold me tightly around my back as he staggers backwards from the force, the island catching our bodies, preventing us from hitting the floor. My daring behavior takes us both off guard as my lips find his. I have never felt like this before. It’s an aching need that I have to have filled. I will not stop until the yearning in my core is satisfied.
I don’t even have time to react to the pure feeling of emotion as my lips press against her small fingers, when she leaps into my arms. It’s like the little peck on her fingers was the secret button, turning her into a wild sex kitten. The thought isn’t half bad, but I can tell she isn’t the type. I really can’t even believe this is happening. I was just jerking off in my truck thinking about her sexy ass, and now here we are making out like a couple of kids in her kitchen. Her mouth opens more, giving my tongue better access. For a split second, I remember she puked less than an hour ago. The thought doesn’t seem to repulse me like it should though, and her fervent hands lifting up the bottom of my shirt tell me she wants me, so I ignore the germ warnings chanting in my brain.
She seems so eager, like her mouth can’t get enough of me as her tongue swirls its way around my mouth in a hurry, exploring me. We need to slow down. I know this will be the only fucking time I allow myself this close to her. After Monday, hell, after tomorrow, I will be a distant memory. I will have to keep my distance to do my job and be extra careful her beauty doesn’t tempt me again. But I’m only human, and a man at that with pure testosterone pumping through my veins. Feeling her hands graze along the waistband of my jeans makes me want to slide them down and go to pound town. She hasn’t journeyed any further than the waist of them, but she is only inches away from the prize. My prize. And I think it’s about time she collect her winnings.
I nip at her bottom lip, causing her to lean her head back and moan. She is still suspended in the air being held up by my arms. When she leans back, it gives me a perfect view of her neck. Her skin is flawless like an angel. Her blonde hair hangs to about the middle of her back and is on her shoulder, so I raise my hand to brush it off and lean forward to kiss her neck. My lips part and allow the tip of my tongue to taste her perfect skin for the first time. Her body shudders causing my dick to twitch in my pants. I lick her slowly from her collarbone up to her ear at first, and then part my mouth and allow my lips to suck and taste her sweet skin. Small moans escape her mouth. They are so quiet, they are barely noticeab
le, but in the silence our bodies’ noises of pleasure are the only thing surrounding us.
Moving my lips up to her earlobe, I notice she has small square diamonds in each ear. I take her lobe in my mouth and suck it, twirling my tongue around. Her body tenses, so I pull away. She looks like she is in a haze as her eyes look past me. I watch as her hand moves up to her wet neck, and I notice she runs her fingertips around on the area of skin my mouth was kissing, like she is taking it all in. Her blue eyes move and look right into mine as her hand slowly extends down her chest. Her fingers run against her skin. She continues to lower her hand until I can’t see it anymore. It went on its own hidden trail, until I feel it hovering right above the button on my jeans.
“Grace,” I whisper as I look up and peer into her blue eyes – eyes so deep, desirable, and pure. I almost feel wrong, being here, doing this.
Almost.
“Where is your bedroom?”
She points in the direction of a long, darkened hallway. Leaning off of the counter, I grab her in my arms and cup her ass with my hands as she bounces up from the motion, causing her dress to slide farther up her thighs. Her panties are visible, and I debate moving aside the little silken fabric. But I know if I start something here I’ll be too tempted to finish it, and she deserves something better than a quick, drunken fuck on her kitchen counter. We descend down the narrow hallway as her lips nip at my neck. The first time, she giggled. I knew she was nervous, so I let out a small growl of pleasure urging her to continue. It worked.
“Which door, sweetheart?”
Motioning to the last door on the left, I walk towards the one she pointed to and kick the wooden slab open with my foot. I don’t know if she is OCD or some shit, but her room is clean and tidy. Even her bed is made. Who fucking makes their bed these days? I head in the direction of her bed and bend down to sit her on the edge. Her arms let go of my neck, and we are face to face again.
“I’ll be right back,” she whispers, then gets up and goes into the en suite bathroom and shuts the door behind her.
Seriously, what has gotten into me?
I don’t have much time to contemplate the answer to that question as I fumble around in the bathroom looking for a washcloth to wipe the sweat from my chest and neck. I quickly roll on some deodorant in each of my armpits and brush my teeth. When I look up to spit out the mouthwash that is burning my mouth like I’m gargling acid, my reflection catches my eye in the mirror. For some reason I feel like I look different. The reflection of the girl staring back at me has a glimmer in her eye, one I don’t recall ever noticing. I am sure it has to do with the hunk of a man in there on my bed. The thought makes me want to jump up and down like a little girl excited about her first pony ride. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it, but one thing I know for sure is I am doing him – tonight. I honestly don’t know what it is about him, but I want him. The feeling of butterflies in my stomach makes me hungry for his touch, and the way his hands held me in my kitchen made me feel safe. Like he was a guard and I was the treasure. Never once have I felt cherished or valued before. That was all stripped away from me the moment Brody laid his hands on me, but for a few moments in there with Parker, my mind didn’t taunt me with the acts of that day. My mind was focused on one thing and one thing only, and he is outside of this door.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly open the door to find Parker sitting on the edge of my bed. His elbows are on his knees and he’s holding his hands together. It sort of looks like he is praying, but his eyes are open, staring at me. They gaze over my body with the same look that drew me to him in the bar. I feel like they cast some sort of spell over me as my feet automatically carry me towards him. He takes me in his arms and positions me so I am straddling his lap. My underwear is showing, but I don’t care. This is as far into uncharted territory as it could get for me.
“Grace, you are so beautiful. I could sit and stare into these blue eyes for days.” I bite my lip as his words melt my heart.
Is this real life?
“Thank you.”
Did I really just respond to his heartfelt compliment with a “thank you”?
He laughs, and the sweet sound fills the room.
“What I meant was thank you, as in that was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” His nose nudges mine. Just this faint touch heightens the ache in my core.
“Come on, I bet you have men lining up halfway down the block begging to be sitting here in my shoes."
“Umm, no.”
“Then they are surely missing out, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and kisses the corner of my mouth. I can feel my panties getting wetter. Maci would have a cow. She would literally die if she walked in and saw me straddling a man I just met at a bar. Not to mention what my parents would think; their sweet little Gracie shacking up with a total stranger. I bet my father would have an aneurysm, but I don’t care in the slightest right now. All I care about is fulfilling the craving I have at this very moment – the craving to have Parker as deep in me as he can get. The thought makes my pelvis rub against him. It feels good, so I do it again. The material on his jeans is rough but the bulge forming, rubbing between my thighs tells me he likes the movement too. I hear him stifle a groan as I take charge of the situation and slowly unbutton his shirt. My fingers fumble with the second white button and Parker smirks at me. He must either think I am an inexperienced idiot or somehow amusing. Either way, I continue until the small, round button slides out of the hole. His mouth finds the lobe of my ear, and he gently sucks it, sending shivers down my spine. No one has ever kissed me there, or with that much intensity, ever. The pure pleasure of his touch makes my body rub against him again. Finally once all of his buttons are undone I bring my hands up to his broad shoulders and start to slide the sleeves of his shirt down, but he stops me.
“As much as I want you…”
Here comes the blow. He doesn’t want me? Why did I even let this go so far?
I look up at his handsome face and am almost positive the look in my eyes staring back at him is full of hurt and rejection.
“No, Grace. I want you, trust me. I want you, like, like fucking bad. You don’t even know, do you?” I swallow, hard, before shaking my head back and forth.
“Feel this.” He grabs my hand and drags it in between our bodies and places it over the mound in his jeans.
“This is how bad I fucking want you. I want to be buried deep in you and feel your tight, little pussy. I know it’s tight and ready for me. I can practically smell it and taste it. And I know you want me too. All I have to do is lay you back and pull down those little panties then make you mine. I can see the look in your eyes. You’re curious and want this too. Don’t you?”
I’m speechless. I have never been so turned on before. Well, not by someone else’s doing. I have goosebumps all over my body, but my lips will not form the word yes. I am frozen in place, my mouth slightly hung open, in awe at his sexy statement. Parker notices my hesitation.
“Grace.” He sounds more stern and less like his low sexy and raspy self. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I want you, that much is clear, but this is all on you. If you tell me no, I will get up and walk out. Scout’s Honor.” His promise makes me laugh.
“Yes, Parker, I want you.”
His mouth collides with mine as he moves one hand to my lower back and the other under my butt, then lifts me into the air and turns to lie me down on the bed. My butt is so close to the edge, I feel like I might fall off, and I suddenly know what is about to happen. I feel a little nervous at first. No one has ever done this to me, but I can’t fight the urge. I feel like I am about to explode and I want to by Parker’s mouth, not my own hand later on after he has left and is only a memory of what could have happened. My imagination won’t do justice to experiencing the real thing.
“Say the words, sweetheart, and I’ll stop. If not, prepare to have your fucking world rocked.”
Suddenly my panties are b
eing torn off leaving my core exposed. The draft of his sudden movement feels cool against my exposed skin. Then I feel something wet. His head is hovering between my legs and I can only see the top of it. His breath so close to me is hot, and then I feel his tongue. It keeps a steady movement, almost as if it is creating its own special melody and is conducting an orchestra. The sweet, sweet music his tongue is playing makes me want to clap my hands like a pleased crowd would. I can feel it slide up and down repeatedly before his mouth covers me. It feels like he is making out with my vagina, but I have to admit I like him kissing me down there much better than on my mouth.
“God, you taste even more incredible than I imagined.”
“Uhh, thanks…Ahh…” I moan out in pure ecstasy, unable to hide my pleasure. My legs feel weak as I struggle to keep them up.
“It feels good, doesn’t it? Do you know what feels even better?”
I know it’s a rhetorical question, but I moan out “Yes” in response to his hot breath on my soft spot. Then he tightly grips one of my thighs and brings it towards his mouth. Sitting up on my elbows peering down over my stomach, that has my dress scrunched up over it, I see him kiss the inside of my thigh. My eyes are locked on his lips. They move slowly at first, gliding over my skin, but once they connect with my core for the second time they form a suction cup as he tastes all of me. The smacking of his mouth fills the air. My head falls backwards as my back arches.
“I bet that does feel good, but has anyone ever touched you here with their hand?” he asks as he slowly moves his index finger and middle finger around in a circular motion where he was kissing only moments before. I can’t answer, because once again I can’t talk.
A Graceful Mess Page 5
