by Misti Murphy
Fuck me sideways and call me a cab. Cookies have never sounded so damn sexy!
“Can I eat your cookie, Bree?”
“Yes.” I’m so needy. My vagina sobs tears of joy while she applauds the man’s sweet talking and starts preparing her thank you speech. “Oh please, yes.”
Climbing off the couch, he kneels on the floor and grasps my hips. “Bring that pretty cunt to my face, babe.”
I shift so that I’m not quite lying before him, propped up by my elbows and the curve of the couch. My heels dig into the plush carpet, my knees tremble. His heavily hooded gaze stays on my face as he lays his palms on my thighs and pushes up my skirt.
He looks at me like I’m a prize, and my heart ricochets like a pinball, a crazy unquenchable ache forming between my thighs. His fingers graze the waist of my panties, dig in. I lift my ass when he shimmies them over my thighs and swoon as he lifts one heel and then the other until they’re completely removed.
Gripping my knees, he slowly peels them apart, then wider still, and his gaze drops to my pussy. “Hello, beautiful,” he croons. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”
My vagina loses the fucking plot. She’s blushing and dribbling and entirely in love. A giggle escapes me.
He glances up at me, trying to stifle his gorgeous grin. “Really? This is serious business.” He draws a finger along my seam. “I’m about to fuck your pretty cunt with my mouth. Surely she deserves a little sweet talk.”
“Go on.” I gasp as he taps the pad of one finger against my clit. He could bury his face in my pussy right now and she would jump for joy, but this is too adorable to miss.
He growls softly as his thumb massages my swollen flesh and his finger slips inside my entrance, his slow, sure strokes waking parts of me that have probably been asleep my entire life. “You’re so fucking wet and ready for me.”
Hot damn. I don’t know if he’s talking to me, or my cookie, or both, but it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. Coupled with the dance that his fingers are doing with my pussy, I’m desperate for more.
“Parker,” I plead, shifting my hips. I need a deeper touch, something more than the light contact he’s given so far. There’s an ache so deep inside me. So deep I can’t imagine anything could touch it.
He does. He hits that spot exactly the way it needs. My insides clench so tightly and so sweetly, a flood of wet heat snaps loose. His face disappears between my legs. The first stroke of his tongue, flat against my seam makes me gasp. The second makes me cry out.
He doesn’t rush. He’s greedy in a painstakingly measured way as he laves each inch of my flesh until my whines become hoarse cries and my hips buck. It’s just so good. So freaking good.
I practically levitate as he fastens his lips over my cunt and digs his tongue into my entrance. The only thing keeping me tethered is my fingers knotted in his hair. His hands stretch me wide, and his tongue lashes every inch of me, eating up my wetness.
“You’re so fucking sweet, Bree.” He groans as he lifts his gaze and his thumb rubs over my clit, an intense heat building from the friction. “This slick cunt. It’s my new favorite thing. Now that you’ve given me a taste, I’m obsessed, greedy for it. I’m going to want to eat it all the time. I won’t be able to get enough.”
“Argunpheeee,” I cry out as he fastens his mouth to me again and continues to thrum my clit. My eyes roll back into my head. I go blind as my body explodes like a firework. Fuck. It’s like New Year’s Eve in here. So bright and sparkly and going on and on and on. I could cry, or sing Old Lang Sine. This is the fucking best thing in the history of things ever. My thighs are shaking as the world ebbs back into focus. My lips are dry, and my throat is rough from my cries.
Parker peels away from my tender pussy, his mouth and chin coated in my wetness. Caging me in with his arms he kisses me. “You are so beautiful. Hearing you come for me...” The sweetness and sincerity in his gaze makes me like him even more than I already do. “I can’t tell you how much it turned me on.”
I know what comes next. He’s hard. One glance and I can tell by the outline of his bulge that he must be aching. And he’s hung. Well hung. Well enough that he could build a whole brand around his penis. I’m a little freaked out about his thing. His huge, thick, and very erect... Christ, he calls it the Pussy Assassin. He’s going to kill my vagina.
I have to tell him that the idea of his cock breaching my cookie makes me nervous. Butterflies explode in my belly as he stands up, still caging me in, his hardness staring me right in the eye. Yup, there’s no saliva in my mouth anymore. Not a fucking drop. “Parker, I—”
He flops down on the couch beside me and pulls me into his side, completely ignoring the anaconda in the room as he kisses the top of my head. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re not ready to do anything more, and I’m cool with that.”
“Yes, but—” That was what I was going to say, but I wanted to explain the reason. How do you tell a guy he’s got dibs on your cookie? I’ve never done casual, and I haven’t made it past more than a handful of first dates. Those have ended by the third. I haven’t had to talk about any of this in so long.
“You told me the first time you agreed to a date with me that I wasn’t getting anywhere near your cookie, so I’m feeling pretty damn lucky that you let me in at all. I’m not going to push for anything else. I want you to see that you can rely on me to put you first.”
“Fuck me.” No really, fuck me. This guy and how considerate he is, and how sweet he is, and how freaking awesome he is with his tongue. Hello, holy fucking grail of man. “I mean, not literally. At least not right now. But do you know how hard you make it not to like you.”
“I like that you like me, babe.” He nuzzles into my hair and nips my shoulder with his teeth. “Because I adore you. Now what do you want to do? Are you hungry? I can whip something up and we can watch TV or a movie.”
“I could eat,” I tell him. I can always eat. I’m a huge fan of eating, especially after exercise. Oral counts as exercise, right? I rode his tongue like a bull rider. Yep, I could definitely eat. “What have you got?”
“Let’s go have a look.” He pulls me into the kitchen with him, and I prop myself on his counter to watch while he scavenges. He hands me a carton of eggs and a container with who knows what in it. I peel the lid off to find it’s full of sliced veggies. “I don’t cook a lot,” he admits. “But with Jeanie here I thought we might have a meal or two at home.”
“But you haven’t?”
“Not this time,” he says a little roughly. It clearly bothers him. A plate with a slice of cheesecake lands next to my thigh. That’s more my style. “That was for Jeanie, but you should have it.”
“She won’t miss it?” I eyeball the dessert.
“Nope.” He grabs a frypan and adds butter before cracking eggs into it. “She’s a little preoccupied this trip.”
“Sounds like you aren’t a fan of whatever has her preoccupied.” Grabbing a teaspoon, I carve a small bite off the cheesecake.
His shoulder muscles flex, his back turned to me. “It’s more that I don’t know what it is. She hasn’t talked to me about it. She usually tells me everything.”
I like how much he cares about his sister. Taking my cheesecake, I wander over to the fridge and study the myriad of magnets stuck to it. The business card that I gave him is held by a smiley face. The way he cares about Jeanie makes me think about how Cal is with me. Parker is a good guy. A really good man under all his muscles and billboards and fame. “Maybe she needs time to deal with whatever it is herself. I’m sure if it’s important she’ll come to you.”
“I hope so,” he says. “Can you hand me the container?”
I do as he asks, and he takes the opportunity to grasp my wrist and pull me closer as he takes the veggies from me. “Tell me about your brother? Cal, is it?”
“Callan,” I say. “My stepbrother, but we’ve been family so long I don’t really think of him like that. Why
do you want to know?”
“Because I want to know everything about you.” He adds some of the vegetables to the scrambled eggs in the pan before turning it to low. Moving us away from the stove, he presses against me and curls his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck. “Your family included.”
“Okay.” This man. He’s stealing little pieces of my heart. “But there’s not much to tell. Cal’s a great brother. He’s been looking after me since I was two and he was six. He’s a bartender. Women adore him. He’s one of those guys that never has to go home alo...” I blush. Until recently Parker had been one of those guys I’m describing. It’s not something I want to ponder. Just thinking about Violet and Blondie from the first time I met him makes my chest sting.
“Babe, it’s fine.” He touches his lips to mine. “Don’t worry about upsetting me. I was that guy, and I can’t change it, but I’m with you now. I hope you realize that.”
“I do.” I slink out of his grip. “Where do you keep your plates?”
“That cupboard.” He points it out as he turns off the gas under the pan, his gaze never leaving me.
I can’t help feeling awkward about his past, when mine is so non-existent. Maybe it would be different if I was one of those girls who could be casual with a guy. But I want to trust Parker anyway, which means I have to put my feelings about the women he was with before me aside.
He fills both plates with eggs when I hand them to him and we take our meal back to the living room. He even grabs the cheesecake for me. We sit together on the couch while we eat, and I tell him about my mother the herbologist, and about Bob and his addiction to witch hazel and wearing no pants. He tells me about his grandmother and how she raised him and Jeanie after their parents died in a car crash, and how she passed away last autumn. His expression is so tender, and then he grins and tells me she’d probably get a hoot out of how he found fame.
I tell him about my dad. My real dad. Whose name I don’t even know, and who I’ve never met. Some guy who couldn’t handle being my father, but who made my life better by allowing Bob to be my dad.
Stomachs full, we watch Deadpool. I still gorge on the cheesecake, because there’s always room for cheesecake in my dessert stomach. Come on, it’s cheesecake!
He side-eyes the cheesecake so I carve a bit off and wave it in front of his face. “Open up.”
“No. It’s yours,” he says.
“I’m sharing.” I weave the spoon like a train at his mouth. “This is a onetime offer. I never share desserts. You might want to consider that before you say no again.”
“Persuasive woman.” He wraps his fingers around my wrist and pulls me closer as his mouth closes around the morsel. “Mmm. So good.”
“Yes.” I sigh. Watching him eat is soooo good it’s sinful, and the sounds rumbling from his chest make me think about earlier when his mouth was between my thighs. I’m getting turned on by a man eating my dessert. Yelp.
“Stay tonight?” He asks as he relinquishes my wrist. “You can borrow one of my shirts to sleep in. We don’t have to do anything, I just want to hold you. I can take you home if you don’t want to, though.”
“Okay,” I tell him, sliding the empty plate onto the coffee table.
“Okay, you want me to take you home, or—”
“I’ll stay.” I straddle his lap and kiss him. “I’d love to have a sleepover with you.”
CHAPTER TEN
Parker
“What’s going on with you?” Dutch asks as he tosses the football in my direction. We’re mucking around in the park after our session with the personal trainer. “You’ve all but disappeared, man.”
“Busy with the new movie,” I tell him, throwing it back. It’s not an out and out lie. My days have been filled with readthroughs before we start filming. Can’t help the grin that spreads over my face or the happiness that bubbles over when I think of Bree. It’s been six weeks since we officially called this thing we’re doing exclusive. Six weeks of sleep overs and dinners on my couch.
I want to take her out on a real date, though. Somewhere fun. Laser tag, or cake tasting. We could pretend we’re getting married and hit up one of the trendier bakeries for free. Except that would end up in the gossip rags for sure. The idea doesn’t bother me exactly, but the media does. They think I’m a womanizer with bad habits and that’s working in my favor. I have no idea how parading Bree in front of them would affect my image. Or what story they’d concoct and what light that would portray Bree in. A quiet cooking class perhaps, since we’re both a helluva lot better at ordering in than we are cooking.
“Rehearsals have never stopped you from having a life before. Or getting your rocks off. It certainly didn’t stop you a year ago while you were filming.” Dutch lifts one heavily tattooed arm and tosses the ball high. “Got your dick trapped in some chick’s cunt? I bet that’s what it is.”
“Shut up, Dutch.” I jump to take the pass and pummel the pigskin at his head. I don’t like him referencing Bree like that even if I haven’t told him anything about her. It probably doesn’t help that my balls are the deepest shade of blue. Bree and I have fooled around plenty, on her couch, on mine, in my bed, and hers. In the kitchen, and the bathroom. I can’t keep my hands off her, but we haven’t actually had sex.
It’s probably fucked up, but I spent so long only having sex, that I want to hold off, and Bree hasn’t pushed probably because she’s enjoying the pace. My dick doesn’t quite get it though.
He grins, his green eyes sparkling and a blade of grass between his teeth. “So I’m right? That is what’s happening.”
“It’s not like that,” I grumble.
“What is it like?” He tosses the ball. “Because the last time I checked Parker Kent was all about sharing his brand with the world.”
“Well, now I’m not.” I shrug. “I’m out of the meat market, Dutch. That’s all there is to it.”
He shakes his head, feigning disappointment. There’s real concern underlying it. “Well, I hope, whoever she is, that she’s worth it. I’d hate to see a repeat of what happened with Cassie.”
I push the ball into his chest. Cassie was only interested in how far she could climb on other people’s backs. Bree knows exactly what I’m worth and she still tries to pay whenever we order takeout. “Bree is nothing like Cassie.”
“And the woman has a name.” Dutch grins, throwing long.
I take off running, chasing the ball as it soars through the air. In front of me, Bree materializes on one of the paths that wind through the park. She doesn’t notice me, absorbed in conversation with the guy she’s walking with. Coming to a halt, I start in her direction.
The guy slings his arm around her shoulder, and I’m not a fan of his familiarity with my girl. She throws herself into his arms, and he kisses the top of her head, and I don’t like that either. Bree wouldn’t behave like that though, unless the guy was important to her.
“Bree,” I call out, starting to jog and waving at her.
She pulls away from the guy, her eyes wide as she catches sight of me. I wait for her to smile, but she doesn’t. My feet fill with lead. Is she not happy to see me because she’s with someone else even after we told each other we were exclusive?
She meets me a few steps from the path, the guy observing. His arms are folded over his chest, his feet planted wide. His gaze is stony as he studies my face. I clench my jaw and stare right back.
“Parker,” she says, trying to tuck a few flyaway strands of hair behind her ear. “What are you doing here?”
“I had a session with my personal trainer this morning.” I shove my hands in the pockets of my shorts and shrug even though this whole situation has me uneasy. “Dutch and I thought we’d muck around a bit after. Who’s your friend?”
“Uh.” She glances over her shoulder at the guy. “He’s not my friend.”
“Who is he then?” I duck my head, hoping my voice doesn’t carry. I don’t like the neediness that seems to color my words. And
this bitter taste in my mouth can go to hell. Reminds me too much of Cassie.
“I didn’t plan to do this so soon. I hoped I’d have a chance to butter him up first,” she says, and holds her hand out to me. “Come meet my brother.”
I whip my hand out of my pocket and twine my fingers with hers as all uncertainty disappears. “I’d love to.”
“He’s probably not going to like you,” she warns me. “At least not initially.”
“I get it,” I say, squeezing her hand. I wouldn’t want Jeanie dating a guy with my reputation either. It’s something I’m going to have to work to change. I’ll have to prove myself before her brother will understand that I am never going to hurt Bree.
“Cal,” she says as we join him. “This is Parker Kent. Parker this is my brother, Cal.”
“Nice to meet you.” I hold my hand out to him.
He studies Bree’s and my intertwined hands, before reluctantly entering the handshake. “You’re that actor guy from the billboards, aren’t you?”
“That’s me,” I agree.
“How did you meet my sister?” He takes his hand back and places his arm across his chest again.
“Cal,” Bree starts, ready to defend me.
“That’s okay,” I say. “Bree was handling the insurance policy on my brand. One thing led to another.”
“Did it?” Cal glares at me.
For fuck’s sake it didn’t lead to that. I could have worded that better.
“I think we need to talk, Bree.”
“I know what you’re going to say, Cal.” She tightens her grip on my hand. “I do, and I’m thankful that you’re looking out for me. I love that you do, but—”
“Can I butt in here?” I ask, and they both turn to me. “I know my reputation. I know my past, and it’s not a good one. I get that. If my sister was looking to date a guy like me I’d want to talk her out of it too. So I get that you aren’t going to like Bree and I seeing each other. I understand that it’s going to take a lot for me to prove to you that I’m not going to hurt her, but I am going to prove it. In time we’ll even be friends. Bree is that important to me.”