The Anchor

by B. N. Toler

  Pressing my body to his, I slid my hand between us and squeezed the bulge on his pants where his erection was straining. “I can take anything you’ve got to throw at me, Mr. Hayes.”

  He growled again, but before he could respond, someone shouted, “Parker!” It was a panicked shriek barely audible over the loud music. I almost wasn’t sure if I’d really heard it. My eyes darted around us as I searched for John and Edie.

  “Shit,” I breathed as the incredibly hot moment between Parker and I dissipated and remembered where we were; in public, with our friends. “Where are they?” I asked as that same frantic voice shouted Parker’s name again.

  Parker—a great deal taller than most of the people surrounding us—stretched slightly and looked toward the bar. “What the fuck?” he murmured. I lip-read his words more than heard them.

  “Do you see them?” I yelled.

  Grabbing my hand, he jerked me through the crowd, bulldozing through the mass unapologetically. When we made it to the front door, we found Edie white as a ghost, and John trying to get free from two gigantic bouncers holding his arms behind his back. One of the bouncers had blood dripping from his nose down his face. Then two cops walked in and took John away.

  At least this time, I wasn’t the cock blocker.

  I was leaned against the cold brick wall of the jail building as I waited for John to exit, looking dog-shit tired. I couldn’t help the grin that broke out across my face. Last night my best friend got caught fucking his girl in a cleaning closet and punched a bouncer in the face. I was kind of proud to know him.

  “How’d you sleep, slugger?” I laughed. He, of course, didn’t laugh.

  “I didn’t,” he grumbled. “Where’s Edie?”

  “She and Nikki are in the cab,” I said, jutting my chin in its direction.

  “Is she okay?” he asked, his tone rich with concern. When he’d told me about Edie and this little fulfilling-fantasies fuck buddy thing they had going on, he emphasized this was casual. But I knew it wasn’t true. He cared about her way more than he wanted to admit.

  “A little shaken up. Mostly, she feels bad. But hey, the bouncer isn’t pressing charges. You owe me five hundred dollars.”

  “You paid him off?” I could feel his relief. The last thing he needed as we embarked on our careers as attorneys was a criminal record. Probably wouldn’t go over so well.

  “Yeah. And you’re banned from the club. Apparently, they don’t like people banging in their cleaning closets.” I had to take a dig at him. “Damn, man. Where’d you find her? You hit the jackpot. She’s all innocent looking, but deep down she’s a little freak.”

  “Don’t talk about her,” he growled and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. He was fucking crazy about this girl. No doubt about it.

  “Okay, man. Let’s go.”

  When we reached the cab, I opened the door and leaned down and in. Nikki sat beside Edie, grinning ear to ear. This shit was just too good. I mean, there Nikki and I were in the middle of the dance floor practically dry-humping while our friends were getting busted for fucking in a cleaning closet. I had no doubt we’d both give them shit about it for years to come.

  “Nik, why don’t we go out for a bit and let these two have a little time.” As funny as the events of last night were, and as much as I enjoyed laughing at my best friend’s expense, their little freak-a-thon had interrupted what was going to be an amazing night between me and Nikki. I was jonesing to get Nikki alone and hopefully rekindle the fire we started last night. But I also wanted to get to know her, really get to know her. The girl sparked my curiosity.

  Nikki practically bounced out of the car, and gave John a little wink as she stood. “Try to keep it in your pants, lover boy. You guys will have the entire apartment to yourselves for a couple of hours. Hopefully that’s not too boring for you.”

  Nikki and I both chuckled as Edie shrieked, “Nikki!”

  “Have fun!” Nikki called as we took off.

  We spent the majority of the day walking around the city, stopping here and there to eat or grab some beers. We spoke about our jobs and favorite pastimes, slowly getting to know each other. Before our last bar stop, we came upon two men sitting on the sidewalk. One was playing guitar, the other was playing a violin. Nikki stopped and stared at the man with the violin, watching the way he glided the bow across the strings. After a moment, the man stopped and held the instrument out to her; his smile bright.

  “You play?” he asked in a thick foreign accent I couldn’t place.

  Nikki darted her eyes to mine as she blushed before looking back to the guy. “I do.” She nodded.

  “Play for us, pretty girl,” the man encouraged, stepping toward her, still holding out the violin.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  My eyes went wide. Holy shit! Beautiful and fucking talented. What are the odds?

  Nikki took the instrument and placed it between her chin and shoulder. The man handed her the bow and she ran it across the strings a few times, testing it.

  “I’ll follow your lead,” the man with the guitar said.

  Nikki began to move, her focus intense as she played. After a few seconds, I knew exactly what she was playing. Charlie Daniels Band’ “Devil Went Down to Georgia.” I couldn’t help the grin that broke out across my face. People stopped and watched as she got lost in the music. The man with the guitar added what he could, but Nikki stole the show. I was amazed.

  When the song ended, the crowd around us yelled and applauded. The two men she played with bowed to her and she smiled as she handed the violin back to the gentleman.

  “Thanks for letting me join in.”

  “Anytime, beautiful girl. Anytime.”

  We continued walking and the smile plastered to my face wouldn’t cease as I kept glancing at her.

  “What?” she finally asked, as if she was annoyed by the way I was looking at her.

  “That was really fucking amazing. I’ve got wood.”

  She laughed, tossing her head back, her mouth open, and my chest got this weird feeling. This girl was getting to me.

  “Well, imagine me playing naked,” she said simply, and my erection felt like a third arm as I envisioned that image.

  Fuck me.

  Our last stop was at a bar about four blocks from my uncle’s apartment. She spoke animatedly and I tried to pay attention, but my gaze kept flicking over to a group of guys at the bar as they noticeably stared at her.

  “Parker,” Nikki huffed. “Am I boring you?”

  “No, not at all,” I said quickly.

  “When a person is speaking with you it is common courtesy to look at them and listen.” She leaned back with her arms crossed, closing herself off to me. I didn’t like it.

  “I’m sorry. There’s these dickwads over there that keep staring at you.”

  She turned her head and followed my line of sight before returning to me. “So,” she said simply.

  This time I leaned back. “They’re talking about how they want to fuck you. And speaking loudly, might I add. No class fuckers.”

  Her mouth curved in this kind of half-smile, half-annoyed thing. “So.”

  “That doesn’t bother you?” I asked.

  She picked up her beer and took a long swig before answering. “Clearly it bothers you.”

  “You like when men give you attention like that, don’t you?” It was all I could come up with. Why else would a woman not be bothered by a group of men staring at her the way they were?

  “Parker,” she said as she leaned forward. “Men have stared at me like that most of my life. I barely notice it anymore.”

  “Maybe so,” I grumbled. “But if you were my woman, I’d kick their asses. That shit is disrespectful.”

  “Would you now?” One of her brows arched as she smiled brightly.

  “Fuck yeah, I would,” I responded. I was pretty buzzed at this point and talking shit was coming way too easily.

  Leaning forward, her blue eyes fi
xated on me as she caught her lower lip between her teeth. God, she was beautiful. “Ever heard the saying takes one to know one?”

  “Yeah,” I answered before sipping my beer. “Why are you asking?”

  “Because I think you’re projecting hypocrisy. You claim those men over there are thinking about fucking me, because that’s what you’re thinking about.”

  Well, she got me on that one. “And if I were?” I countered.

  “I’d be interested in hearing what you have in mind, Mr. Hayes.”

  She was giving me an opening, and I was going to fucking take it. Rubbing my jaw, I leaned forward and slowly said, “I’d rather show you, Nicole. That is, if you think you can handle it.”

  She leaned back, biting her lower lip again. Was she doing it to drive me fucking crazy? Did she have any idea how sexy she was? “I told you, I can handle anything you throw at me.”

  She was challenging me. I just knew she must be the kind of woman that wanted to be dominated in the bedroom. Or maybe she thought I was bluffing; that my warning to her the night before was only shit-talking. I had news for her—I didn’t talk out of my ass. Never have, never would. Meeting her piercing blue gaze, I warned her once again. “I told you, I’m no gentleman in the bedroom, princess. I won’t fuck you like you’re a dainty beauty queen. I’m going to treat you like you’re my dirty little whore.”

  Her eyes widened and I expected to see disgust or offense, but that’s not at all what lingered in her fiery stare. It was lust. She loved every promise I was making; she didn’t want to be treated like a princess. Taking the last few sips of her beer, she stood and rounded the table, inserting her body between my legs. Her pouty lips were a millimeter from mine as one soft hand brushed down my arm. “I’m ready when you are,” she whispered against my lips.

  I had no idea how much our tab was, we’d only had two beers each, but I threw down a fifty and a twenty and grabbed her hand. My blood was pumping fast as we exited and I led her down the busy street toward my uncle’s apartment. Neither of us said a word as we walked briskly. She was humming with sexual energy; I could feel it, and it only excited me more, as if that were possible. A million images were running through my mind; Nikki on her knees sucking my cock, her lying on my bed, touching herself, her legs spread far apart as I licked and sucked her pussy. I couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman so badly in all my life.

  We rushed through the lobby of the apartment building and were lucky enough to catch the elevator as two people were stepping off. I pulled her inside, hit the floor button, and as the doors began to close, I lifted her and pressed her against the wall. My chest heaved as my breathing labored, my desire coursing through me.

  When her blue gaze met mine, I saw the want and need. She was right there with me; burning alive. But I also saw a tiny flicker of . . . fear, maybe? Or apprehension?

  “Nicole,” I whispered. “Do you know how badly I want you?” Her mouth curved just a fraction as she breathed in deeply. Leaning in, I kissed her lightly. “Don’t be afraid of me,” I told her.

  “I’m not,” she whispered back.

  Kissing her once more, ever so softly, I backed away and stared into her eyes. “Good. Because that kiss was the last gentle thing that will happen between us tonight.” Her eyes widened a fraction just as the doors to the elevator slid open. “After you,” I motioned. She raised her head, and stiffened her back, and by God, she brazenly shook her ass as she walked past me toward the apartment. I was definitely going to spank that ass several times.

  As we entered the apartment, Parker slid by me and went to the kitchen. I waited, my feet somehow weighted to the floor, preventing me from moving. I was a swirl of feelings. There was want there; dear God, did I want him. But I had talked a big game. When he told me he’d treat me like his dirty little whore, heat and desire racked my body. No one ever spoke to me like that. No one ever referred to me as a whore for sexual purposes. And what was with me liking it? What woman wants to be told she’ll be treated like a whore?

  Parker rounded the corner with two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. “Are you ready, princess?”

  My face heated with his words. I didn’t like being called a princess. It made me feel as if he thought I was too good for his kind of sex; like I was a prude. “Lead the way, Mr. Hayes.”

  Flashing me a knee-weakening grin, he winked and headed to the master bedroom. As I followed him, I silently breathed a sigh of relief that Edie and John weren’t back yet. That might have made things a little awkward.

  We entered his bedroom and he shut the door behind me. The large, king-sized bed was perfectly made; a beautiful deep blue comforter and soft throw pillows covering it. I figured he must’ve had a maid, there was no way he made a bed that well. My feet felt heavy, the sensation of lead weights strapped across my ankles keeping me at a standstill as I watched Parker set the liquor and glasses on the dresser. He said nothing as he poured some of the amber fluid into each glass. Turning to me, he approached and handed me one of the glasses.

  “A little courage,” he rasped. He smiled as he took a large swig.

  Was he implying I was scared? I refused to let him believe that. I was scared; a little. I was a virgin and from Parker’s warnings, he was most definitely not a virgin. I put on my brave face and smirked.

  “Courage?” I questioned mockingly. “Why, are you scared, Parker?”

  His mouth curved up as he watched me toss back my drink. It burned my throat and hit my stomach like a pile of rocks, but I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t let him see any of my weaknesses.

  Taking my glass, he went back to the dresser, tossing back the remainder of his drink along the way. After he sat the glasses down, he moved to the closet, opened it, and kicked his shoes off before removing his socks and tossing them inside. Then he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed that as well. My heart began to beat faster. He was in nothing but jeans, his muscular and defined back in my line of sight. When he turned, I sucked in a ragged breath. He heard it and smiled. He was beautiful. Tall and lean with toned muscles everywhere. I could almost imagine what his hard body would feel like against mine and I had to swallow the nervous lump in my throat. I was about to have sex. This devastatingly beautiful, virile man was going to be my very-first lover.

  Parker walked to the bed and sat on the edge, facing me. I hadn’t moved since we entered, and still couldn’t for some reason. Leaning forward, he put his elbows on his knees and trained his dark eyes on me.

  “Undress,” he ordered simply.

  My brows rose. I was a little surprised. When we agreed on doing this, I had imagined him wildly ripping my clothes off in a fit of passion. But in that moment, he seemed cool and relaxed, nowhere near as affected as I was.

  “Nicole,” he said my name when I didn’t seem to respond. My gaze met his. “Undress.” His tone was deep, almost as if he was warning me to comply . . . or else.

  Taking a deep breath, I bent to slip off my heels. My feet ached. When we left that morning, I had no idea Parker and I would go on a walkabout of New York. Heels weren’t my best choice.

  “Leave the heels,” Parker ordered, stopping me.

  I nodded once in compliance and found the hem of my dress. As I began pulling it up my body, he added, “Slower.”

  His voice was low and deep and I trembled slightly. I’d been in front of countless people judging me in pageants. I’d worn bikinis and gowns and not once had I ever felt nervous about the eyes that were upon me. But with Parker, I was nervous. The way he was staring at me—so calm and stoic—I wondered if he thought I wasn’t sexy.

  Slowly, I pulled my cotton dress up and over my head. My blond hair cascaded over my shoulders and down my back as I tossed the garment aside and met Parker’s gaze. With my hands on my hips, I worked hard to match his expression; fearless and unreadable. But inside I was a nervous wreck.

  The white, lacy panties and bra I was wearing were very fitting for the virgin that I was. Parker’
s dark stare moved slowly down my body, and then back up again. “Now the bra,” he said calmly.

  My heart hammered, my chest pounding like a drum. He was so fucking calm. How was that possible? Most men I’d fooled around with almost creamed their pants when they saw me this naked. I’d always liked it, to some degree. It made me feel like I had the upper hand; like I owned them. Shaking my head slightly so my long hair would brush off my shoulders, I turned my back to him as I undid my bra. Holding it between two fingers, I stretched my arm out and let it fall to the floor. Before turning to face Parker again, I peeked over my shoulder. He was still Mr. Calm and Unreadable.

  Biting my lower lip, I made it my goal to undo him, to demolish his walls. As I spun around slowly, I ran my hands down the curves of my sides and back up again. I got nothing. I stood mostly naked, in heels, in front of the sexiest yet most frustrating man I had ever met. I mean, come on. I was naked and I got . . . nothing? I knew I was not grotesque, I’m a pretty girl, but even I needed a little reassurance every now and then; especially when I was about to lose my virginity. Not that he knew that.

  I was done. Smiling coyly at him, I gently rubbed over my breast and down my belly. My hand skillfully slipped beneath the lace of my panties and I moaned as I touched my warm, wet flesh. My head fell back as my fingers moved over my clit. When I raised my head again, Parker still hadn’t moved.

  “Does that feel good, Nicole?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I breathed as I continued pleasuring myself. I was so worked up, two days of dirty talk and foreplay had wound me up.

  Standing, he approached me slowly, his dark gaze glued to the hand between my legs. When he moved behind me I almost collapsed when I felt the warm skin of his chest and stomach against my back. I couldn’t fight the tremor that vibrated through me. They say the brain sends messages through nerves in our body almost instantly, controlling our movements. But my brain had shut down and my body was acting on its own volition. His breath brushed over my shoulder as his hand slid around me and found my hand between my legs. He pressed his hand on top of mine, my panties separating them. Then he joined in my motions with me, and my body ignited as he bit the flesh of my neck. I moaned. It hurt, but for some reason my body pushed back against him, begging for more. His other hand slid up my back and collected my hair in a fist. He gently, but forcefully, pulled my head to the side and began biting and kissing my neck and left shoulder. My legs grew weak as my orgasm built and his hand left mine, wrapping around me to hold me up.