Lost In Mr. Parks (Park #3)

by Lilly James

  “I’m going to call Cleaver and get him to bring the car around. I think it’s time we left.”

  “Fine.” I stuck with one-word answers and made zero eye contact with him. When he left the room, I heard women’s heels coming down the lobby. It was Jasmine. I suppressed a grin as I raked my eyes down her soaking-wet dress. Her hair dripped down her face, and her running mascara made her look like a panda bear. Before she saw me, I shot out of my chair to confront her. My presence startled her.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” I yanked on her arm, aggressively forcing her to look at me.

  “Seriously?” She threw her arm out of my grip, then kicked off her heels. “You just pushed me in the fucking water fountain at my party.”

  A scoff left my mouth as she swiped her black, sopping hair from her pretty face. “Bullshit. You’ve had a problem with me since day one. I think we should have it out!” I sank down onto the chair, informing her that I was going nowhere. “Right now.”

  She walked towards me, bare feet slapping against the marble floor. “You want to know?” She was a mere inch away from me, and I glared up at her.

  “Spit it out.” I yawned.

  “You’ve taken my brother away from me,” she screeched, her green eyes welling up with tears. “He’s the only fucking person that I can rely on, that I can talk to. That I love and trust. And you’ve taken him away.”

  My eyes automatically widened, a swallow working down my throat. I was windblown. My thoughts and feelings towards Jasmine quickly backtracked, alternating between hate, confusion, and suddenly understanding.

  I stared at her and said nothing as she walked away from me and slumped down into another chair. Her head bowed as she hiccupped through a sob. “My brother is one of the bravest, kindest, most caring men I have ever met. He would take a bullet for me, Evey! And here you are—” she dragged her eyes over my body like I was a revolting corpse, “—taking advantage of him.”

  Disbelief was too little a word to describe how her statement made me feel. “You think I have taken advantage of Wade?”

  “Don’t they all?” She wiped away her tears, seeming to hate that they were falling in front of me. “All you women just want him for his money. His name. What he can do for you.”

  I literally bit my tongue, wanting to automatically vent my anger at her. But that was the old Evey. Erratic. Crazy and irrational. Now I was starting a new chapter, and I had to learn to try and solve the problem instead of going straight in and punching someone’s face in.

  “Wade hasn’t had girlfriends before. I don’t understand how you can say women use him.”

  She inelegantly wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I meant the girls who want him. And you’re no different.”

  I looked away from her again and counted to ten. Protective boyfriend I could deal with; protective sister needed a slap. Okay, Evey, calm down.

  “You don’t know me.” I looked at her again, and she was watching me, her green eyes narrowed and body language unapproachable. I had to remember this was a woman who also had an abusive past, so she was bound to be closed off. She was loud-mouthed, brash, and cold. She reminded me a little of myself.

  “I know you accept expensive gifts from my brother.”

  I turned my head to the side as I laughed. “You think I haven’t tried telling Wade I wouldn’t mind wearing a dress from Topshop instead of Chanel? He doesn’t listen!”

  She looked away from me. “Yeah, well, you didn’t turn down your three million dollar engagement ring, did you?”

  Three million fucking dollars? I shook my head. “How would I know he stupidly spent that amount of money? I wouldn’t have cared if he got the ring from fucking Argos.”

  I knew Jasmine looked away to hide a smirk, so I softened towards her.

  “Jasmine, I…”

  “You what?” She lifted her head up, tears rolling down her mascara-messed face.

  “If I knew this was how you felt then…”

  “You what?” she repeated, venom lacing her words. “You would have stopped seeing him?”

  I shook my head, my eyes narrowing at the suggestion. “No, but I would have understood why you were being such a twat.”

  Jasmine’s eyes rolled to the ceiling. “You will never understand how it feels to only have one person in the world that you can say for sure actually loves you. Never understand how alone I feel. How fucked up I feel.” She tapped her temples before slapping her palms into her lap.

  I worked down another swallow. That one seemed harder because a damn lump had formed. “You don’t think I understand? Your brother may have told you I was an alcoholic, but what he failed to mention was that I know exactly how it feels to be alone. How it feels to be at rock bottom, staring up from the bottom of the well, knowing you have to find your own way out of the darkness because no one out there gives a fuck.”

  I was close enough to see her eyes were finally engaged with mine. “He never told you I use to drink because it numbed the pain of knowing the woman who brought me into this world hates me. It numbed my memories of how she would beat me day in, day out just for simply existing. So don’t you dare sit there and tell me I don’t know how it feels to be alone, because I know more than anyone how the fuck that feels.”

  Jasmine’s expression turned from hateful, to bemused, then sympathetic and heartbroken within a space of seconds. She suddenly felt my pain, I knew that, but I couldn’t stand the sight of her in that moment. Turning on my heel, I had every intention of leaving the room and going to find out where Parks had vanished to. But Jasmine pulled me to a stop by telling me to wait. I turned and was about to snap at her, but her hands shot up in a defensive gesture, beating me to it.

  “Please, hear me out.”

  I recoiled, then sagged, exasperation settling in. “What now?”

  “You’re right.” She sniffed, fidgeting with the bottom of her dress. “I didn’t know those things about you. I just thought you were—”

  “Some alcoholic slut who wanted nothing more than your brother’s money,” I scoffed on an eye roll. I knew very well what she thought of me. What everyone thought of me, actually.

  Jasmine laughed but then bowed her head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

  My head shot up. Did I hear correctly? “You’re sorry?”

  “I’m sorry for assuming.”

  I gave it a moment to figure out whether she was being genuine or false. But the more I looked at her, the more her expression softened. I sighed, giving up trying to argue. “Like I once said to somebody else, it’s not just the perfect that hurt, Jasmine.”

  “You think I’m perfect?” she went on, placing a hand on her chest. “Evey, what you see on the outside is a far cry from what I am inside. Outside, I look strong, happy. Inside, I’m hurting so much. It hurts like hell to have to wake up every morning, because the pain I feel doesn’t ever seem to go away.”

  I found myself feeling sorry for her. Sorry for the twin bitch? Jesus, Evey, you are changing. “Wade told me about your dad.”

  She shook her head firmly, sadly. “He’s not my dad. He’s no father. After what he did to me, my mom, especially my brother, he deserves to rot in hell.” She glanced out the lobby windows at the serenity of the hotel gardens. Serenity is something we both rarely found.

  “Then why, until your mum bravely told your dad it was over, did you all still play happy families?” I asked, pulling her from her sorrowful musings.

  “Image is everything.” She scoffed. “I won’t let the world know we are all crumbling on the inside, because it’ll only make things worse.”

  I got her. I really did. I didn’t want normal people like my mates or work colleagues knowing how I really felt, and to let the world know your troubles when you were as high-profile as she was meant purposely making yourself vulnerable. The cost of that was deadly.

  Within thirty minutes, my train of thoughts about Jasmine had gone through the bumpiest ride of their life. I hated
her, pushed her in the fountain, and wished her ill. Then I started to soften towards her and tell her things I would never tell anyone so easily. “For what it’s worth, I would never take your brother away from you. You’re the only person he ever talks about with that warmth in his eyes. The only one I’ve seen him affectionate with, except me, of course.” I smiled. Jasmine smiled back, and it was a genuine and kind.

  “I can sort of see why he loves you. And yes, he’s told me,” she added after reading my shocked expression.

  “Listen.” I swallowed down some pride and sucked in courage “I know we will probably never be best mates, but I hope we can put all this behind us. Besides, I have too much shit going in my life, and too many people against me and Wade, that I just don’t have enough energy to fight you too.” I glanced down at my shoes. “Especially because I know how much you mean to Wade. I don’t want to make him feel awkward every time me and you have to meet.”

  “Me neither.” I watched her thinking before she took her next breath. “Maybe we should go out, for food or something. Get to know each other a little better.”

  “Sure.” I nodded on a smile, then got distracted by my phone buzzing in my handbag. I pulled it out and saw it was Parks. “I better get this.”

  “My brother?” She grinned knowingly.

  “Yes.” I smiled.

  “Then you should probably get it, and I should probably go and get changed.” We both looked down at her soaking-wet dress and burst out laughing.

  “I am so sorry.”

  “No, you’re not,” she joked, turning on her bare heel and heading out of the room. Maybe she was right. I wasn’t sorry for pushing her in. My wrongdoing was what brought us together and sorted out our differences. Even though I wasn’t remotely bothered about her liking me, it felt like another weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I could now add her to my list of people that were finally on our side. There were too many people on the opposite team as me and Parks, and I honestly didn’t want to waste any more energy on thinking angrily about those people. I got my man. I was engaged, and he loved me. Sod the rest of them. Let them hate, I thought. Let them talk. The only people I needed to spend time thinking about were those who deserved it. Those who thought ill of me, those who judged before learning anything about my real life, were not going to bring me down any longer. They were not welcome in my head space. Not worth me getting angry about. Not worth my thoughts. Not worth anything. I spent too much time thinking about things that were never relevant and not thinking about things that were relevant.

  My phone rang again, so I answered with a polite hello.

  “Evelyn, I am waiting out front for you. I would like to leave.”

  “Keep your hair on, I’m coming.”

  Moments later, I was walking on the gravely surface of the ground outside the hotel. The press were gone, thank God, but my heart began hammering the moment I set eyes upon Parks leaning against Cleaver’s car, knee bent and hands shoved in his suit trouser pockets. He was watching me, his eyes filled with both impatience and insatiability.

  “Get in.” He moved aside and opened the door for me. His directive words and unyielding body language had my mind racing with dirty thoughts. Goose bumps appeared on my skin, and my sex dampened. Clearly not caring that Cleaver was present, he slapped my arse as I bent down to get in, and that proved I was in for a wild night of sex with my gorgeous, demanding alpha. I didn’t want to tell him I cleared things up with Jasmine, because that would mean he would perk up. His dark and dangerous mood would clear up. His Hulk ways would shift, and I didn’t want that. Not until he had fucked me good and hard, until I was begging him to stop and not meaning it.

  Parks sat close to me when he climbed in, and I purposely left my seat belt off. Like I’d hoped he would, he pulled out the belt, brought it around my chest, purposely brushing his knuckles over my breasts while making eye contact, and buckled me in. He turned his head as he buckled himself in and didn’t look at me. His arm was brushing against mine as Cleaver pulled out, and although that was the only contact he was making, it was still enough to make my clit pound. I smirked and glanced out the window, mindlessly watching the trees all lined perfectly along the streets. Parks was mad at what I’d done, and I was heading for a punishment. I willed the car to move faster. After a few minutes of silence, I leaned over, brushed my lips across his ear, and he spread his fingers out across his knee. Hell yes, he was affected.

  “Are you going to spank me when we get home?” I whispered, almost childlike and playfully. He simply nodded, choosing not to look at me. But the way his fingers pressed to his knee told me exactly what he was thinking. I bit my lip and inhaled, then leaned over again and licked into his ear. Parks’s ears were a weak spot for him, and I loved the way he breathed in sharply when I did it.

  “With your hand?” I asked quietly. “Or a cane? Or a paddle?” He had used all three on me, but I had to say, his hand was always my favourite.

  “Wait and see,” he said coldly, and it excited me even more.

  I gave a quick glance to Cleaver to see if he was taking any notice, but he wasn’t, so I smoothed my hand into Parks’s lap. I wanted to feel his hardness on my fingers, but he latched his hand around my wrist, stopping me from doing so.

  “You don’t get to touch me when you’re being punished, Evelyn.”

  My eyes flew open, wide in astonishment, excited and aroused. “We’re playing your old games?”

  The very first time I had met Parks, I knew he was a man that got exactly what he wanted. What he wanted then was me, and he fought to get it. The way he’d punished me fascinated me, introduced me into the world of BDSM, and taught me I enjoyed spanking. Enjoyed submitting. Now, I embraced it. I wasn’t confused about it anymore. Parks would blindfold me and punish me. I wasn’t to look at him, touch him, or talk without permission. This was a way for him to channel his need to control and be in charge. That was still partly inside him, but now he realized why exactly he wanted to punish me this way. At first he thought it wasn’t healthy, thought it was sick. Before, he did it out of spite. Now, he did out of fantasy and trust.

  Parks nodded and turned away from me, trying to hide his smirk. I saw it, though, and it only made me feel more comfortable. My mind was buzzing with excitement, and I damn wished Cleaver would put his bloody foot down.

  Parks opened my door for me when we arrived in the carpark, but he remained quiet. With his head down, he gestured for me to lead the way. I watched as he pressed in his code and waited in silence for the lift.

  “Why aren’t we talking?” I whispered humorously. He ignored me and nodded towards the lift as the doors opened. We didn’t talk on the way up, but I was convinced he was going to snap out of his arrogant and offish mood the moment we stepped into the penthouse. I was wrong. He allowed me to walk up the spiral stairs first, without saying a word. His expression was impassive, his lips set in a straight line. I wasn’t getting anything from him.

  His behaviour shot my thoughts to bits. I was confused and turned the hell on, but I was starting to become irritated. Walking into the living space, I made my way to the kitchen island and dumped down my handbag. Parks also walked to the island but stood on the opposite side. My eyes remained on him, watching his fingers as he worked on his tie and slowly pulled it from his neck. I wished his fingers were touching me. Wished his lips that he’d just licked were kissing me. He placed his tie neatly on the kitchen worktop and finally made eye contact with me. My heart pounded as his greens looked across at me. But I got nothing from him. I couldn’t decipher his mood one bit. It was even more annoying because it felt like he was teasing me. He shifted his jacket from his shoulders and pulled it off in a way that had his muscles flexing under his shirt, and I moaned quietly. My body ached and itched all over to go to him and place my hands on his arms.

  Finally, he put his jacket next to his tie, then turned on his heel and headed upstairs. I watched as he went, my head following his movements. “W
hat the hell?” I murmured to myself. I thought he was punishing me?

  I had two options—to leave him alone until he snapped out of his odd mood or seek my inner temptress and try to lure him in. Tempt and coax him, I decided. Should be fun.

  I dashed upstairs and frantically rummaged through hundreds of pairs of sexy underwear. My hands were shaking from anticipation, and the unknown was ramping up my horniness and shooting it through the roof. The way he was acting was a challenge for me, one I willingly accepted. After picking my brain about what to wear, I threw the sexy thongs, bras, and corsets aside and gathered up what I thought was the sexiest. In a rush, I yanked off my dress and picked up the garment. I pulled at it, held it up sideways, frontways, all ways, until I could see how the bloody hell I put it on. It was a bondage piece, and I almost had a heart attack at the price tag. Almost two grand for a couple straps? Jesus.

  “Okay.” I went for it, putting it on how I thought it went. The straps formed an X from the neck down under my breasts. There was nothing covering them, so they were out completely. The straps carried on the criss-cross around my back, then came back around to my front so they sat upon my hips, then joined in a V shape under my legs, completely exposing my modesty. The straps were covered in crystals; it was a beautiful piece. In my head I was a Victoria’s Secret model, then I looked in the mirror and burst out laughing. I couldn’t go to Parks looking like that, could I? I thought about wearing nipple tassels, but when I picked them up, I knew they would have made me look a right twat.

  “You look like a burlesque girl.” I chuckled to myself, rubbing at my forehead as I debated whether to keep it on or not. Then I guided my hand over my stomach and frowned. I’d put on weight! I knew I had. I could see it in the mirror. “Parks is a fucking feeder,” I moaned. Then I scolded myself for taking so long, pulled on a black, silk dressing gown, slipped my feet into heels, and took a much-needed deep breath. My gut instinct told me he was in his office, so that’s where I forced my feet to take me. I felt sick wondering whether he would find me sexy or ignore me. Then I would have definitely looked a right twat.