“Fuck you.” Wyatt didn’t mean it, and the words carried no strength.
She rested her chin in her palm and fluttered her eyelashes. “There you go, changing the subject to sex again.”
“Okay. I yield.” Wyatt held his hands up in surrender. “I’m not sure to what, but...” He chuckled. “What was the point of all of this?”
Fiona’s smile grew. “You’re learning about Parker. Finding out who he is without the camera.”
“Yeah. I really am,” Wyatt said. Not in the way he’d inteded, but despite the confrontational tangent, and the change to tension then back to middle-ground, he liked what he saw.
He had to remember everything he’d told them. The problem was he wasn’t any more convinced than they were.
“What do you want to know next?” Parker sank back in his seat.
Nothing this intense. “What’s your favorite color?” Duh. “Red,” Wyatt said at the same time Parker did.
“It’s not.” Fiona propped her leg on the bench, to rest against Parker’s leg.
An odd spike of envy jarred Wyatt, that they had this level of comfort without thinking about it. He shouldn’t care. He’d been working too hard and his head was all sorts of fucked up.
“It is.” Parker jabbed his straw at the remnants of ice cubes in the bottom of his glass. The sound was more slosh that clank.
“Do you have the same level of appreciation for bad horror sci-fi that she does?” Wyatt nodded at Fiona.
Parker furrowed his brow. “Not quite. And how do you know that?”
“It’s what we did the other night,” Fiona said. “When I was mad at you.”
Parker seemed to relax further.
God, that seemed like forever ago. And apparently, there were still some things the perfect not-couple didn’t share with each other.
The conversation continued to slide back toward neutral. What was Wyatt doing? Confusing lust with something more? Letting pleasure threaten business? The sooner he wrapped this up, the better. Would one more day be enough? Not unless he could maneuver Parker into violating the decency clause of either the contest or the Grammie’s contract.
Sounded like a solid goal.
“HEY.” FIONA KNOCKED on the bathroom door in the hotel room. “Are you going to be in there all morning? Wyatt will still like you even if you don’t pretty yourself up.”
The conversation last night, after the church, took an odd turn, but at the end of the evening, she felt more at ease with Wyatt than she had since they met. Like he’d finally stopped hiding.
Parker opened the door and stuck his tongue out at her.
She jabbed it with her finger.
“Give me five more minutes,” he said with a laugh, then closed her out again.
She liked this so much, she didn’t dare bring up the question of is sex okay if it’s just the two of us? Probably a childish thing to fret over, but she didn’t want to push Parker away after finally rediscovering their friendship.
They were meeting Wyatt again this afternoon, but they had a delivery first. It was for a wedding, so she and Parker had to look nice. If he didn’t hurry up, she wouldn’t have time to smooth the fly-aways out of her hair, along with the rest of what she needed to do to get ready.
She grabbed her laptop and pulled up Parker’s video from yesterday. She wanted to see the chapel again—all that gorgeous light and architecture.
Her gaze drifted to the comments, and she looked away. But when she saw her name front and center, she had to read.
It was from Lumb3rjck76. A chill raced over her. He’d written, You’re a goddess, Fiona. You deserve so much better.
Simple words, but they gnawed at her gut until she had to swallow back the bile rising in her throat.
“Hey.” Parker rested a hand on her shoulder, startling her. “You know better than to read the comments.”
“Tell me comments like this are status quo.” She pointed to the screen.
Parker leaned in and frowned. He took the computer from her, set it aside, and dropped on the bed behind her.
“You’ll wrinkle your suit.” Her protest was weak.
He draped an arm over her shoulder and tugged her so her back rested against his chest. “It’s not a great suit anyway. I know this isn’t comforting, but at least it’s just a comment.”
“You’re right. Not comforting at all.”
“I’ll block him, so he can’t comment anymore.”
“Don’t.” Fiona hated saying that, but it was the most reasonable response.
“Why not?”
“It won’t stop him from creating another account, and if he does that, I’ll be wondering if it’s still him, or a new creeper.” She’d also rather ignore all of this and hope it went away, rather than risk pissing the guy off. Besides, blocking him wouldn’t stop him from seeing the videos, just from leaving comments, and something about that was even worse.
Parker rested his head against hers, and his breath fell across her neck, soothing her. “We’re in this together. I know it hasn’t always seemed like this, but I’m here, and we’ve got this.”
“Thanks.” His words were reassuring. She hated to extract herself from his arms, but they were on the clock. “I’ll go get ready.”
Before she could leave the room, Parker took her hand and met her gaze. “It’ll be all right,” he said.
She gave him a weak smile. “I know.” She grabbed her dress from the closet and locked herself in the bathroom. She stripped down and stepped into the shower. It was a little thing, but she’d miss unlimited hot water when this was all over.
She turned up the temperature as high as she could stand, and stood under the scalding stream, letting the heat and pressure chase away her tension. She stood there until she convinced herself this was no big deal, then finished washing up.
Fiona had her dress on and was pulling her hair into a bun, when Parker called, “You’ve got a text.”
It was probably from Nick. “Read it to me?” she said.
“I don’t know your passcode.”
She smiled at her reflection, and bright green eyes, lined with enough eyeliner and mascara to make her look like a different—more exotic—person, smiled back. “Yes you do.” It was the last four digits of Parker’s childhood phone number. Silly. Sentimental. And the first number she’d ever memorized.
“Who’s W?” he asked a second later.
“Who do you think?” Wyatt. Her stomach fluttered in a new way. “What does it say?”
“Looking forward to seeing you both this afternoon. Don’t wear panties.”
She squeezed her thighs together and peeked out the door. “You made that last part up.”
“Nope.” He held up the phone.
As if she could read that from where she was. She stripped off her underwear, trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs. She emerged into the main room, and Parker’s whistle stopped her.
He was looking at her like it was the first time he’d ever seen her. Her skin must have turned almost as red as her dress.
Time to be bold and have some fun, instead of cowering from an unseen stalker and letting the stranger ruin her plans. She held up her panties. Parker’s eyes grew wide, and she dropped the lingerie on top of her luggage.
“Let’s go to a wedding,” she said, with far greater confidence than she felt.
Chapter Twenty
The wedding delivery went smoothly. Not the kind of stuff high-view videos were made of, but Parker was glad to see the couple enjoying the day with their friends and family.
But watching the celebration didn’t take his mind off what Fiona wasn’t wearing under her dress. It was distracting enough, seeing how the red hugged her breasts, left her pale shoulders and neck on display, and showed off the curve where her hips met her waist.
It was the amusement in her eyes that got him every time he met her gaze, though—that hint that they shared a secret no one else was in on.
After the li
ve filming, they met Wyatt at a local winery. He said they were already dressed up, so they should do something elegant. The owner was happy to let Parker film. Since the footage would be edited before it was uploaded, Parker didn’t have to go out of his way to keep Wyatt out of the shots. That made everything run more smoothly.
Except that now all three of them were in on the secret, and Parker felt like he’d spent the entire day with an erection. In reality, it was probably only half the day.
They finished the tour of the winery, and Parker stashed his camera in Wyatt’s rental car. It was odd to trust Wyatt with something so valuable, but Parker wasn’t worried about it.
From there, it was picking raspberries, which Parker was pretty sure was designed partly as a form of torture. At least this afternoon. He didn’t know which was a bigger turn-on—the light teasing of Fiona sucking the stain of juice from his fingers, or watching Wyatt do the same to her.
Wyatt steered them toward a quiet clearing, surrounded by trees and vines and with no one else around. He grabbed a cooler and blanket from the trunk.
“You pick now to be a cheap date?” Parker teased. “Figure you’ve already made your best impression?”
Wyatt shook his head. “I’m a fantastic fucking date. So good, you don’t know if you envy me or want to fuck me.”
“A little of both,” Parker admitted. Watching Wyatt move was nothing like watching Fiona, but the man did wicked things to a suit and captured a room simply by being in it.
Dinner was simple. Finger sandwiches from a local deli and sparkling juice from the winery. Afterward, Wyatt stashed the cooler. They were seated on the blanket, joking about random things, and Parker had mostly forgotten the one thing that teased him the rest of the day.
“Come here.” Wyatt motioned to Fiona.
She had kicked her shoes off and sat with her legs tucked to the side. “Why?”
“I don’t have to explain myself.”
She raised her eyebrows and stared at him, lips pursed. “I’d like you to.” Her tone was playful.
Wyatt smirked. “Fine. Because I want to see if you got my text this morning.”
Right. There was the distraction. Parker adjusted himself as his cock pressed against the seam of his slacks.
“You see with your eyes, not with your hands.” Fiona’s tone was almost sing-song. “And you can see fine from there.”
Wyatt chuckled. “You and I clearly have different definitions of the word see, and yours isn’t as fun.”
“It’s not?” Challenge blended with Fiona’s teasing.
“Fine,” Wyatt said. “We’ll do it your way. Show me.”
She chewed her bottom lip as she glanced around, and pink crept up her neck.
Parker was captivated by the scene. Anticipation raced over him, and he clamped his jaw shut to keep from doing something like gaping.
“Well?” Wyatt prompted.
Fiona stretched her legs in front of her and raised one knee to let her skirt creep up toward her hip, exposing a triangle of smooth, bare pussy.
This was wicked. Sneaking a glimpse at porn when he shouldn’t be. Peeking in on an intimate moment that wasn’t necessarily meant to be.
Wyatt whistled and looked at him. “How did you ignore that? You knew.”
“I did. And I didn’t ignore it. I spent half the day hard and the other half trying not to be.”
“I didn’t mean to make you suffer.” Fiona’s sweet voice drew his attention again. She hadn’t covered herself.
“She did,” Wyatt said, “or you wouldn’t have known.”
Fiona slid her legs together, then rolled to her hands and knees. As she crawled toward Parker, green-eyed gaze locked on his face, her skirt hugged her hips, and he had the perfect view down the front of her dress. “Let me make it up to you?” she purred.
She really was part kitten.
“What did you have in mind?” His throat was dry. He felt like an inexperienced, horny teenager. Seduction wasn’t new—he’d been on both sides—but this was different. This was her. Sweet, smart, always-there Fiona. And fuck, if he didn’t like this side of her as much as the rest of her.
She moved up his legs and dragged his zipper down. A shudder raced over him at the release of pressure against his erection. When her cool fingers met his hot skin, he sucked a sharp breath through his teeth.
She met his gaze again, and drew her tongue up his shaft, before taking his length in her mouth.
“Fuck.” He knotted his fingers in her hair and pulled her back. “Stop.”
She jutted out her lower lip, and the fleshy swell was less than an inch from the head of his dick. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No. God no. But I’ve been thinking about you all day, and if you do that now, I can’t promise to hold back.”
“Good.” A wicked smile played on her lips, and she lowered her head to his lap again.
Each lick and suck sent a new wave of pleasure through Parker. He was intensely aware that Wyatt watched, silent, and that amplified Parker’s desire.
He brushed a few loose strands of Fiona’s hair aside, to watch her full lips glide up and down his cock. “So fucking gorgeous,” he muttered.
The comment drew more enthusiasm from her, and she gripped tighter. Sucked harder. She drifted her free hand back between her legs but hesitated.
“Don’t stop.” He forced the words out through jagged groans. “Play with yourself. I want to watch you come with my cock in your mouth.”
He glanced at Wyatt, who watched through half-closed eyes as he stroked himself.
“We’re both watching,” Parker told Fiona. “Getting off to the sight of you.” All right, so he wasn’t the dirty-talker Wyatt was, but he liked the taste of the coaxing rolling off his tongue.
She reached back and inched her skirt higher, until she could slide her finger between her legs. He felt her gasp against his skin, as much as he heard it.
He glided a hand along her chest, under her dress, to squeeze her breast. When he reached her nipple, she moaned. He pinched harder, and she returned the favor, pumping with hungry enthusiasm.
Parker’s balls tightened, and tension coiled through his body as he hovered on the edge of orgasm. “Red.” He tried to nudge her away.
She gave him that look again—innocence mixed with hungry desire—and watched him as she continued to lick along his shaft.
Wyatt’s groans shifted to staccato grunts.
Parker’s arousal hovered near one-thousand, at the knowledge that this private show had an audience. He couldn’t take his eyes off Fiona though. Manners said he should push her away, but each delicious sound and touch and glance drew him closer to the edge of climax and stole his thoughts.
Sensation overrode reason, and he came hard, thrusting against her face, hitting the back of her throat, and spilling in her mouth.
She slowed her attentions, and stopped when he shuddered away from her touch, too sensitive to take any more. She glided her tongue along his skin with one last, feather-light touch, licking him clean before she pulled away.
He pulled her up, needing to taste her and himself. To feel more. And to make sure she enjoyed herself as well. She straddled his legs, skirt riding over her hips. When he gripped her hair, knocking more strands loose, she gasped. He crushed his mouth to hers, swallowing each tantalizing noise she made.
She was so wet when he slid his touch along her slit, it threatened to make him hard again. He dipped three fingers inside her without resistance, and she ground against his hand. She tasted like raspberries and cucumber sandwiches and him. Fuck. That was intoxicating.
Parker found her swollen clit with his thumb and pressed into it while he fucked her with his fingers.
This was more than physical. It seared through every inch of him. Penetrated his thoughts. His soul. Who he was with was more arousing than what they were doing, though the way she slid her body along his, danced her tongue with his, and clung to him clenched in his chest.
Her pussy clenched around him as climax tore through her. She broke away with a cry, then bit the inside of her cheek, muffling the sound.
God, she was gorgeous. He slid out of her gently when the writhing stopped, and dragged his fingers along the grass.
Fiona met his gaze again, a shine in the emerald of her eyes that he couldn’t name but wanted to see over and over again.
“You two going to go all night?” Wyatt’s throaty, teasing question shattered the invisible bubble around Parker and Fiona.
Fiona giggled and dropped her forehead to Parker’s chest.
“I thought we’d wrap up soon.” Parker managed to find his voice. He was imagining the hint of jealousy in Wyatt’s question, wasn’t he?
Wyatt stood, zipped himself up, and crossed the distance between them. He offered Fiona a hand, and she accepted, wobbling for a moment when he tugged her to her feet. He rested a hand on her back to steady her, and gave her the most chaste kiss on the cheek Parker had ever seen.
When she looked stable, Wyatt offered Parker a hand too. He helped Parker stand and jerked him close.
“I told you she was yours alone.” Wyatt’s words were barely a whisper.
Ambivalence flickered through Parker, as he searched for a response to a comment he would have given anything to have confirmed in the past. Why didn’t the words feel the same now?
“Hey,” Fiona said playfully. “No fair, keeping secrets.”
Wyatt faced her and gave a deep bow. “Never, my lady.”
Bits of Parker’s mind wanted to delve deeper into the consequences and meaning of what happened. This wasn’t just sex. Not for him. But it wasn’t anything he had words to define.
The rest of him insisted he enjoy the glow and not overthink this to the point of ruining the moment.
One thing he was certain of—he couldn’t leave Fiona again. There were no answers to what Wyatt had to do with that. How he fit in. If he did, despite his insistence. But watching Fiona smooth out her skirt, grab her shoes rather than putting them on, and look up at him with a smile, he couldn’t imagine letting her go.
Red Hunted_An MFM Ménage Romance Page 14
