Denying Mr. Parks (The Parks #1)

by Lilly James

  “Steph! Didn’t you see the fucking traffic lights?” I had to yell at her because she wouldn’t speak.

  She shook her head slowly, almost tearful as she took in what she had done. “Oh my God. Look how expensive his car is. Shit, shit, shit. There goes my insurance.”

  I could have killed her myself.

  I saw the car was a red Ferrari, and the driver’s door was opening as a man climbed out. Cars beeped as they changed lanes to go around us, but we couldn’t move. I didn’t know what to do, and Steph started to cry. I wanted to slap some sense into her until I saw a familiar face walking towards us. The same man who had just gotten out of his car. He was furious.

  I gasped. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” My luck was getting worse. I couldn’t believe the odds.

  Steph quickly grabbed hold of my arm. “Please get out with me. I can’t do it on my own.”

  “He’s coming.” I was panicking along with her but for a different reason and almost thought about telling her to drive away. Either that or I’d hide in the glove compartment.

  She shot her gaze up at the oncoming man, and she completely stopped her blubbering. “Bloody hell. He’s hot.” She made short work of drying her eyes and climbed out of her car quicker than I’d anticipated. I put my head in my hands and begged God to take me away from the situation. “Come on,” she hissed before closing the car door.

  “For fuck’s sake.” I heard Parks’s dominating but smooth American voice speak before Steph had a chance to. His tone caused goose bumps to dot all over my skin like it always did. “You really want to watch where you’re going. Do you see the danger you could have caused?”

  I was surprised at how calm he was being. He had a Ferrari, and it had just been bumped. Then again, he was too charming and poised to yell at a woman, and he probably had another ten Ferraris along with his two Jaguars, anyway.

  I gingerly climbed out of the car and hovered nearby on the pavement so he couldn’t see me. I quickly inspected the damage just for something to get out of going over to them. By the look of it, it was minor really, but Steph’s front lights had smashed off from what I could see. Stupid girl.

  “I am so, so sorry. I must have taken my eyes of the road for a second and didn’t spot the lights switch. I…” Steph tried to argue her case, but I knew she was hesitant because that’s what standing in front of Mr. Parks did to women. She looked over her shoulder at me for support, but when she saw I wasn’t standing next to her, she called, “Evey?”

  Fuck. I dipped my head down behind the car as I tried to figure out what the hell I was going to do. I thought about legging it, but really, I had no choice but to make myself known. I counted to ten in my head, braced myself, and then sheepishly walked around the car to where they were both standing. When Parks saw me, he recoiled in utter disbelief.

  “Evelyn, you have any idea how much danger your friend put you in just then?”

  Steph shot a glance to me, her brows creased in confusion. “Wait, you two know each other?”

  “Parks,” I mumbled apologetically. He stood poised in a black, two-piece suit with a green tie that brought out his spectacular eyes. His presence alone captured me and my gaping friend, and I knew from experience it was hard to pull yourself together after getting pulled in by him.

  I found a way, though.

  Steph’s eyes widened as I said his name, and I panicked, not knowing what she was going to say or do. “Parks? As in Wade Parks?” She gaped at me. I nodded gingerly, then she looked towards Parks and crossed her arms. “So you’re the boss? The arrogant arse?”

  Oh God.

  Parks smirked. “Is that what Evelyn says about me?”

  “Evelyn?” She was shocked he’d used my full name, because nobody ever did. “Well, ‘Evelyn’ failed to mention how fucking hot you were.”

  “Steph,” I hissed. I could have actually killed her. I rolled my eyes up to the sky and turned my back on the both of them. “Just sort your shit out.” I went to climb back into the car.

  “You cannot get back in that car, Evelyn,” Parks called after me. “You just had a bump. It’s not safe.”

  “Hey, my car is safe,” Steph snapped. “And so is my driving.”

  Parks’s dark, preened brows knitted as he took his gaze away from me for a second. “The dent in my car would put that remark to shame. Do you make a habit of driving this way? If so, I would like to demand that Evelyn is never to ride in the car with you again.”

  I moved my hands up to my face so I could hide behind my palms.

  Steph wasn’t acting offended now; she was acting suspicious and pissed off. “Demand her? Well excuse me, Mr. Expensive Suit, but my driving skills are perfectly—”

  “Worrying,” he finished off her sentence and shut her up. Urging us to move onto the pavement, he stepped towards me. “Are you hurt?” He gave my body another studious glance, but I took a step back from him and wrapped my arms around myself to keep distance between us.

  “I smacked my knees against the dashboard, but they’ll be fine.”

  He threw a scowl over at Steph, then bent down to look at them. “Let me check you over.”

  I took two steps back, making him groan. “I do not need to be checked out, Parks.”

  “You can check me over, if you like,” Steph flirted with a wink. I slapped my hands over my face again. She watching his every move, and Parks seemed oblivious to it. He was so used to women acting that way he blocked it out.

  “Excuse me whilst I make a phone call.” He put his finger up to silence Steph whilst he was on the phone.

  “Is he going to call the police? Ask for my insurance details?” Steph started to panic again as she racked her hands through her hair. I bit my bottom lip and shook my head, telling her I didn’t know what he was up to. “You think he’s going to let me off? He has money, right? Tons of money. He doesn’t need to claim off my insurance, does he? Anyway, besides that, Evey, he’s fucking gorgeous. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you have a boyfriend,” I sang. And why would I talk to her about him?

  Parks walked back to us as he slid his phone into his pocket. “Right, ladies…”

  “Ooh, ladies.” Steph swooned, making me chuckle. “I’ve never been called a lady.”

  I scoffed. “That’s because it’s debatable.”

  Steph laughed along with me, slapping me on the shoulder. Parks ignored our personal joke. “Cleaver is on his way,” he said in his usual direct manner. “He will take you both home, and I will stay to sort this mess out. I will call Evelyn later to check in with her and let her know what is happening. Steph, your car will have be sent to the garage, and—”

  “Wait a minute, who’s Cleaver? And how much is this going to cost me?” Steph butted in.

  “He is my driver. And nothing.” He flicked his greens my way, and I thanked him with soft eyes. I knew he was only doing this because the incident involved me.

  “Nothing?” Steph blinked in bewilderment.

  “That’s what I said. The damage to the car is meaningless to me. But the safety of myself, you, and especially Evelyn is extremely vital. I’ll take care of it.” He looked at me again and caught me staring at how charming he was being. I couldn’t help watch him whilst he spoke—his actions, the way he moved with grace but also with extensive, error-less control. He smiled adorably at me—a smile that didn’t come out often. It caused me to look down at the floor, grinning like a loon, whilst Steph talked one hundred miles an hour, oblivious to how we were looking at each other.

  “Are you serious? I bumped your car that’s worth, like, what? Two hundred grand? And you say I don’t owe you anything? Jesus, I sure am glad you know Evey.”

  He was still watching me. “I sure am too.”

  Until that moment, Steph didn’t suspect a thing between us. But as soon as Parks said those words, he gave me a look of pure tenderness to make sure his feelings for me were recognized, and yes, they were plausible. I glanced at
Steph to see her brows had furrowed in suspicion. I looked away from her.

  “I’m actually heading to Brighton,” I told Parks. “I should be on the M25 right now. How long will Cleaver be?”

  “Why are you heading to Brighton?” His question was almost petulant. I got the feeling he thought I should have told him about my plans. My glare told him to back off, but I made my answer calmer for Steph’s sake.

  “To see my aunt for the weekend.”

  “I could have taken you.” Then his tone become softer. I knew he thought I should have asked him to take me. But why on earth would I have done that?

  “Steph was driving me, and actually, I did want to go by train. I bloody wish I did now.” I was getting more uptight, and my tone was evidence of that. This had to be one of the most awkward and uncomfortable situations I had ever experienced.

  Parks’s gaze shot behind me, and I turned to see Cleaver pull around the corner and head towards us in the Jaguar. When he pulled up behind the two cars, Parks walked towards him and told us to wait. I went into the boot of Steph’s car and took hold of my black holdall with one thing in mind: get me to Brighton.

  Cleaver, to my surprise, climbed out of the car, exchanged keys with Parks, and walked towards us. “Evey,” he acknowledged me with a warm smile and turned to Steph. “Could you retrieve your vehicle and follow behind me, ma’am? We’ll get your car fixed up for you.”

  Steph was confused, but I knew damn well what was going on and panicked.

  “Steph’s car isn’t fit to drive?”

  Cleaver answered for Parks as Parks’s smartphone rang in his pocket and he walked away to answer the call. “It’s not a major bump, Evey. We can drive it to the garage. It should be fine.”

  “But if she can drive it to the garage, she can take me to Brighton first, yes?” I knew what was about to happen, so I tried my best to find a way of getting Steph to drive me.

  “No, Evey, it needs to be fixed.” Steph was warning me to keep my mouth shut because she knew she was getting her car repaired for nothing.

  “Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll get the train to Brighton.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. I will be taking you to Brighton.”

  I turned to see Parks slip his phone back into his pocket, wearing a wry smirk. My eyelids fluttered in exhaustion. “I’m sure you have places to be, Parks.” I didn’t want to share the same air as him right then.

  “It’s Wade, Evelyn. And I did, but I have managed to reschedule my meeting. Are you ready to leave?”

  I wanted to scream in exasperation, but all eyes were on me and waiting for my response. “Whatever.” I sighed.

  Steph nodded, raring to go but threw me a sceptical look before walking away. “Call me when you arrive, Evey. Let me know how your journey went.” Her tone was dry, and it instantly told me she had every intention of asking me about Parks.

  “Sure.”

  Parks took the holdall from my hands and placed it in the boot of the Jaguar, then walked around to my side to open the car door for me.

  “This should be fun,” I mumbled my displeasure—much to his pleasure.

  He bent down to speak into my ear before I got in. “You want fun, Evelyn? I can comply.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” I hit back and ducked my head to get seated. Parks eased into the driver’s seat, and I told him my aunty’s address so he could tap it into his sat-nav.

  We drove in silence for some time, but then Parks broke it. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

  I couldn’t look at him. “Do you blame me?”

  “Tell me why you think you hated it.” He knew I was upset about the spanking, but he also sensed it had been on my mind since.

  “Because what gives you the right to smack me?”

  He rubbed at his jaw. “Evelyn, it’s spanking, not smacking. I do it as a form of punishment. You misbehave, you get punished. I was always punished for doing something wrong as a child, and it sort of stayed.” He glanced at me intently, searching for my reaction, and all I could think about was his childhood and being punished.

  “You were punished?”

  His eyes narrowed a little, like my question was absurd. “Of course, Evelyn. If I did wrong, I was punished. Rightly so.”

  “Were your parents strict?”

  His jaw clenched just slightly. He was either alarmed or annoyed at my sudden inquisitiveness. “Yes, discipline needs to be obeyed,” he answered stiffly.

  Well, I couldn’t relate. I wasn’t punished for being bad, because my parents didn’t take much notice of me, given how drugged up they were half the time. I got smacks, punches, and slaps; however, they weren’t for punishment but merely for fun. Even though Parks spanking me should have brought back bad memories, it didn’t. Rather, it seemed to do the opposite and get me excited, get me thinking it was what I needed. I thought of how many times I should have been punished as a child for bad behaviour. If I was punished, maybe there was a chance I wouldn’t have turned out the way I did. That’s what confused me the most. How could I hate it but feel I needed it at the same time?

  Anyway, I wasn’t willing to tell him anything deep about me even if he had asked. Come to think of it, the dearth of information we actually knew about each other was quite alarming, but we weren’t partners, or lovers, so why did we need to know about each other?

  “So you do it to women? To teach them discipline?” It would make sense, but I was still a little surprised.

  “Yes. I am a controlled man, Evelyn. I need it. I will have discipline and obedience, and if not, you will be punished. And, on the flip side, what I get out of it is watching the woman squirm with delight in my lap whilst I teach her some manners.”

  “You like to hurt woman if they don’t obey your rules?” I was getting more intrigued by the second but a little pissed off too. I had no idea how the mind of a dominant worked, if that’s what he was.

  He glanced at me quickly and narrowed his eyes, almost angry. “No. That’s not what I’m about.” Clearly wanting to quickly change the subject, Parks turned on the music system. Joyful classical music blared from the speakers. He shook his head on a smile and turned it down a little.

  “Wow, Cleaver was in a good mood.” I smirked.

  “Cleaver greatly admires Beethoven, as do I.”

  “Is that the name of the song?”

  He shook his head, giving me an exasperated look. “No, it’s the name of the composer.”

  “Well, the only Beethoven I know is a slobbery St. Bernard.”

  He stopped as the lights switched to red and gave me an insulted stare. “Beethoven is arguably one of the greatest composers of all time. Your ignorance is disturbing, Evelyn.”

  Then I was insulted. I pointed to my chest. “My ignorance? Just because I don’t know who a composer is? Well sorry, but I wasn’t brought up around classical music and playing grand pianos. I was brought up around Bob Marley, reggae, Stevie Wonder, and Meatloaf.” And drugs, violence, and abuse, but I left that out.

  “You don’t have to be brought up around a particular music genre to know about it.”

  I leaned my head back into the headrest. “Whatever. Smartarse.”

  His lips twitched in amusement as he pressed down on the accelerator, and the car moved again. “I thought I was an arrogant ass?”

  “Let’s just forget the arses.” I yawned purposely.

  “Well, your ass is an unforgettable one. But seeing as I’m getting hard at the thought of your ass, I think we should go back to your music preferences.”

  I automatically glanced at his lap when said he had grown hard, and my thoughts went straight to thinking about cupping his manhood. I begged my wayward thoughts to leave me alone and focused on the music.

  “I like Ed Sheeran.” I shrugged. “His music is my sanity sometimes.” He shook his head, clueless as he kept his eyes on the road, making me gasp. “You don’t know who Ed Sheeran is? Okay, now I’m offended.”

  He chuckled tha
t smooth, orgasmic chuckle, the one that showed how much perfection his curved lips were made of. His gorgeous white teeth were also on display when he did it. He was extremely enchanting to look at, and it was hard to deny that watching him laugh wasn’t magical.

  “You never fail to amuse me, Evelyn.” He glanced over at me as I tried to get comfortable. But it wasn’t the leather seats that spurred my uneasiness; it was the thought of being in the dangerous company of Parks knowing how hard he said he was from the thought of my arse. “Are you not comfortable, Evelyn? Would you like the seats warmed? Are you too cold? Too hot?”

  His concern was kind of adorable, but I couldn’t afford to think of him as adorable. Or think of him at all, for that matter. “I’m fine.” I shuffled in my seat.

  We were heading onto the motorway, and I watched him glide his hands around the steering wheel as he held it with such ease and grace.

  “So you grew up around Stevie Wonder and Meatloaf? What are your parents like?”

  His question sounded thoughtless, but it was a million miles away from thoughtless. He wanted to get to know me, and he did it by going in slowly. Still, I tensed at the mention of my parents.

  “It’s my aunty that loves Meatloaf.” I glanced out the window and hoped that would be an end to it, but of course, Parks pushed the matter.

  “And your parents?”

  “I’d rather not talk about them.”

  “Oh? They’re not deceased, correct?”

  I scoffed. “No, not dead. I just don’t like talking about them.”

  He paused, trying to get me to talk more, but I gave him nothing. I didn’t want to talk about my parents, so I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Parks about them. Instead, I asked him about himself. A little of me wanted to know about this man I knew nothing about, apart from him being the firm holder of the company I worked at. Oh, and he was rich, intelligent, and owned tons of expensive suits and cars.

  “What about your parents?” I watched him carefully for any sign of aggravation or adoration, but Parks stayed inexpressive.

  “You want to know about my parents.” It wasn’t a question. It was almost like he thought I had a motive for asking. I’d gotten used to people thinking I was after something if I showed an interest in a person or expressed care or a thought for them, and sometimes it hurt me, though I never admitted that.