by Jill Shalvis
“For good reason,” she managed, trying not to stare at his mouth and failing miserably. His lips were somehow both firm and soft, and he always tasted good. So yeah . . .
At her scrutiny, those sexy lips curved. “I bet you have all sorts of rules in bed, too,” he said.
She had no idea how in the world he managed it, but with him she always felt a whole lot aroused and just a little bit pissy at the same time. It was a special talent of his.
“Yeah,” he said, sounding amused and not at all surprised. “You do. You have rules in bed.”
“I don’t.” She hesitated. “Well, maybe a few,” she admitted. Hey, it was just common sense to have rules.
He laughed softly, the sound sliding through her belly and heading directly south. Dammit.
“Maybe that’s why your dates aren’t working out,” he said.
“My dates are working out just fine, thank you.”
“Yeah?” he asked. “Did you get laid last night?”
She squirmed. Joe had made it clear that sex was absolutely on the table and up for discussion. She’d made it just as clear that it wasn’t going to happen.
But she did want to be with someone. She wanted that quite badly. Just not with Joe.
Parker grinned. “I rest my case.”
“Hey,” she said. “I could have . . . with Joe. If I’d wanted to.” But the amused doubt on Parker’s face really did her in. “I could call him back right now even,” she said.
He slid his gaze over her blanket—The Little Mermaid—from her head to the tips of her toes and smirked.
“Well, I wouldn’t be in this blanket,” she said. “I’d change. And not into the bingo dress, either. I’m retiring the bingo dress.”
“What have you got instead?”
“Plenty,” she reported. “I have a little black dress, for one.”
“Yeah,” he said. “That and some fuck-me pumps would do it. You’ve got great legs.”
She did her best not to flush with pleasure because she did not care one bit that he liked her legs. Correction: She didn’t want to care. “It’s not all about physical attraction,” she said.
“No kidding,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh as he looked her over again.
She narrowed her eyes. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Babe, you’re covered in that blanket from head to toe, and I bet beneath it your pj’s are flannel and baggy. That should be a turnoff but I’m not even close to being turned off.”
She stopped breathing. “You’re not?”
“Nope.” He lowered his head so that his breath warmed her neck. He stayed still for a beat, ratcheting up the anticipation within her so tight that when he finally spoke, just the brush of his lips moving against her throat made her damp.
“Back to your bedroom rules,” he murmured.
She huffed out a laugh that sounded nervous even to her own ears. Probably because she suddenly was.
And unbalanced.
So very, very unbalanced.
To try to ground herself she leaned into his solid chest.
“Tell me one,” he said, those lips of his still ghosting over her throat with each syllable. “Slowly and in great detail.”
She stopped a helpless moan from escaping. “No.”
He rubbed his jaw to hers like he was a cat, a big, sleek cat. “Want me to guess?” he asked.
She meant to give him a shove, but her hands were still entangled in her blanket. “You don’t know me well enough to guess.”
“You don’t want anything too intense,” he said, ignoring that. “Get in, get out, and if you get an orgasm out of it, you consider yourself lucky.”
She’d be totally insulted if his words weren’t deadly accurate. “I’m not that uptight,” she said.
He gave a soft, sexy laugh.
“You were wrong when you said I had the smart mouth,” she said. “You’re the one with a smart mouth.”
“Maybe kissing it would help contain the sarcasm,” he suggested, and this time his mouth was at her ear, drawing a shudder out of her. Somehow her hands had separated from her brain and dropped the blanket.
He looked down at her tiny boxer shorts and thin white cami.
“I stand corrected,” he said roughly.
Smug, and also unbearably aroused, her hands slid down his chest.
And then back up.
Unable to handle the onslaught of all the emotions—hunger, desire, need, and a yearning that weakened her knees—she couldn’t hold back her moan this time.
“You’re sweet,” he murmured.
“No, I’m—”
“Shh,” he said, and kissed her just beneath her ear. “You’re also fierce,” he went on. “Loyal. Tough . . .”
She heard another moan. Still her.
Parker sucked her earlobe into his mouth and then gently sank his teeth into her and gave a little tug.
She gasped and would’ve slid to the floor if he hadn’t lifted her to the counter. He did it casually, easily, and then with a palm on each thigh, he pushed open her legs.
And then he made himself at home between them.
“But one thing you’re most definitely not,” he said, “is uptight.” And then his mouth covered hers.
Sixteen
The kiss blew Zoe’s socks off. It was so easy to get lost in the promise of what he offered: no wondering, wishing, worrying . . . Wrapped up tight in him as she was, she felt tempted. She also felt feminine and powerful and oh so ready for whatever came next . . .
But then he pulled back.
Reflexively she tightened her hold on him, and with one hand in his hair and the other spread wide over a deliciously bare pec, she stared up at him, confused. “Are we stopping?”
His gaze shifted from her mouth to her eyes, and the corners of his sexy mouth tilted up into a wolf grin that dripped with pure male sex appeal. “Your choice,” he said, and cupped the nape of her neck as he brushed his lips against her temple. Then her jaw. The corner of her mouth. “Whatever you want, Zoe.”
Whatever she wanted? She wanted him, now. “The kittens,” she murmured.
“Fell asleep.”
She craned her neck to see around him. Oreo had fallen asleep on his bed in the corner of the kitchen, and unbelievably the two little kittens had done the same, cuddled up next to him like he was their mama.
Tilting his head, Parker began a new assault on her senses as he worked his way along her jaw.
“So what is it you want?” he asked, lightly sinking his teeth into her earlobe.
His low voice rumbled from his chest through hers, and she sucked in a breath trying to take it all in. The warmth of his touch on her skin, the hunger in his voice, the invitation in his words . . . He stood between her spread legs, his tough body hard against all her soft spots. What did she want? A man-made orgasm would be a good start . . .
“Tell me,” he said, voice low and just a little rough.
She lifted her head and met his gaze.
He flashed a smile. “Me,” he said. “You want me.”
God help her, she did. But she could de-lust her brain enough to roll her eyes at his ridiculous cockiness. “A little sure of yourself?”
He laughed softly, and she was just about to clock him for it when he said, “Babe, with you, I’m more unsure than I’ve ever been.”
The confession, uttered with a hint of bewilderment and one-hundred-percent honesty, had the knot loosening in her chest. Were they really on equal ground here?
“Say it,” he said with soft command, holding her gaze prisoner.
“I want you,” she whispered.
He didn’t gloat. He just let out a breath of what she chose to believe was relief before pulling back enough to look at her, really look at her. Clearly he wasn’t into instant gratification at the moment because he didn’t move, just appeared to really enjoy his view.
But she was wanting some instant gratification, bad, and reached for the tie
on his sweats. With a groan, he captured her hands, spreading them out at her sides to look his fill as if he needed to memorize her every inch.
Impatient with that, she tried to pull him back into her, but he wasn’t a man to be directed. Instead he let go of her hands to grab the hem of her cami and drag it up her body until it got caught on her arms. Now she had a problem. She had to let go of him if she wanted skin on skin.
But she didn’t want to let go of him.
Ever.
She had no idea where that terrifying thought came from, so she shoved it deep and lifted her arms.
Parker tossed the cami aside and let out a rough breath at the sight of her bare breasts. “Damn, Zoe. You’re so beautiful.” Curling an arm low on her hips, his other hand cupped a breast, letting his thumb rasp over the tip. Back and forth until she rocked up into him. Bending his head, he used his mouth. And oh, goodness, his mouth. She was so distracted by his wicked tongue that she cried out in surprise and need when his warm, work-roughened fingers slid into the boxers and between her thighs. She’d fantasized about this with him, but the reality far exceeded any dream. His fingers seemed to know her body, understanding what she needed before even she knew, stroking her in a rhythm that had all cognitive thought put on hold. “Parker,” she managed, clutching at him, her hips rocking of their own accord.
“Let go, Zoe,” he said, his mouth working its way to her other breast. “I’ve got this.”
She choked out a laugh at how he’d used her own words against her, and melted for him. The morning air was cool and should have chilled her bare skin, but Parker had his torso pressed into hers, and heat poured off his large body. Threading his fingers in her hair, he tipped her face up so he could kiss her as thoroughly as he wanted.
And apparently that was very thoroughly.
She was breathless in seconds, clinging to him, panting, whimpering for more as she explored his arms, his chest, everything she could reach.
He continued to do the same, kissing his way over her shoulder and collarbone, and then back to a breast where he once again drew a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, and her eyes rolled back in her head a little. Realizing she had her hands fisted in his hair pulling hard, she tried to let up. “Sorry,” she gasped.
She felt Parker’s lips curve, and when he shook his head, silently telling her no worries, the gentle rasp of the stubble along his jaw made her moan for more.
This time his soft laugh huffed against a breast.
“Not funny,” she managed, wanting to give back as good as she was getting, her hands skimming over the smooth muscles of his back, her fingertips searching out every ridge, every dip and sleek line of sinew. When she’d made it to his hips, she kept going into the back of his sweats, grabbing his very fine ass as she spread her legs wider and rocked into him.
At that same moment, he slid a finger into her and groaned along with her. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he rasped.
“For me to grab your ass?”
“For you to be ready for me.”
She’d been ready for him at first sight, not that she was about to admit that. “Well, you’ve got it now,” she whispered, and then nipped at his throat. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Plenty.” He kissed her hard and long before pulling free. When she mewled in protest, he flashed her a smile and hooked a foot in one of her chairs, dragging it toward him.
“What—”
“Shh,” he murmured, and dropped into the chair and then leaned in to run his mouth up her inner thigh. When the material of her thin boxers thwarted him, he merely scooped them to the side. “Oh Christ, Zoe. You’re so wet.” Then he put his mouth on her and in less than two minutes she was nearly to that orgasm she’d been hoping for, so . . . very . . . close . . . as he held her there on the very thin precipice . . .
And then . . .
Her cell phone rang.
As it was plugged in on the counter right behind her, the ring nearly startled her heart right out of her chest.
“Ignore it,” he said against her, and did something especially wicked with his tongue that made her forget the phone and cry out.
And then he did it again and just like that she was back on the very edge, her toes curled, her muscles trembling, her entire body tight and—
The house phone rang this time, obnoxiously loud, and she lost her place. “Dammit!” She pulled him up and let out a breath when what she really wanted to do was cry.
But ignoring a phone call went against the grain. She didn’t get all that many calls, and some of the ones she’d received in the past few years had been life-changing. The news of the car accident that had nearly killed Darcy, for one. “I’m sorry,” she said, breathing like a lunatic—or like a woman who hadn’t gotten lucky in far too long. And damn, she’d been sooooo close. “I have to at least look.”
Parker pulled back, his hair tousled from her fingers, his eyes liquid jade, torso bare, sweats untied and sagging low thanks to her wandering fingers, his breathing not any more even than hers.
She wanted to jump his bones, but instead she slid off the counter and pulled her top back on before pointing at him. “Remember where we were,” she said.
He smiled and swiped his forearm across his mouth. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Damn. He was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. She looked at the ID screen on the phone and it was like a bucket of ice water. “Hi, Mom,” she answered.
Parker slid her a look.
She turned her back on him. “Everything okay?”
It was a valid question. Her parents didn’t check in often, and when they did it was always for a specific reason.
“Everything’s fine,” her mom said, sounding tinny and far away. Luckily she didn’t respond in kind to ask Zoe how she was because the answer was an inch from coming.
“We’re on the road and got an e-mail notice that our security deposit box payment has come due,” her mom said. “We’ve always paid in cash, so I don’t have an online account set up for it. We need you to go pay that for us from our account.”
“Sure,” Zoe said. She often handled their financial affairs when something needed to be done from here in the States. “You okay? And Dad?”
“We’re both good, darling, thank you. We’re traveling for the next few days. Be sure to tell Wyatt happy birthday for us.”
“His birthday was last month,” Zoe said, trying not to lose patience, but the woman got their birthdays wrong every single time. How hard was it to keep track of the three children she’d borne herself? “I got him a card from you.”
“Time seems to go by so differently over here,” her mom said. “Give him a kiss for me. And Darcy, too.”
“I know they’d love to hear from you yourself,” Zoe said. “Darcy especially, she’s—”
“You’re breaking up. Zoe?”
“I’m here,” Zoe said. “Darcy’s engaged. To AJ.”
“Well, damn,” her mom said, presumably to Zoe’s dad. “I can’t hear her at all, do you think she’s still there?”
“Yes, I am,” Zoe said quickly, louder now. “Mom? Can you hear me now? We miss you—”
“Can’t hear a damn thing. Zoe,” her mom yelled into the phone. “E-mail me when you make the payment, okay?”
“Okay, will do,” Zoe yelled back. “Love you!”
There was no response. “Mom?”
But she’d already disconnected. Zoe stared at her phone and