He laughs out loud and proceeds to tell me what he had been saying when I was ignoring him. “As I was saying...” We make our way to the bar as he fills me in on the latest mergers and stock prices of our competitors. It’s mundane information, but my brain manages to compute the figures and arrives at the same conclusion as he does.
“Well, we’ll simply diversify our assets division and reallocate our warehousing contracts to a more lucrative customer base. We can keep our momentum so long as we continually adjust our action plan to accommodate seasonal transitions and manufacturing setbacks. We just need to stay two steps ahead in case we lose footing and have to regain our edge over our competitors.”
“Exactly.” He reaches over and smacks the bar to gain the bartender’s attention. “We’ll have two Long Island Iced Teas, please.” The bartender starts to walk away to make our drinks, but Parker yells out, “With lemon.” The bartender nods and sets about making our drinks.
Parker swivels in his seat to face me again. “So, did you get to meet the owner of Stockton International? I hear he’s been quite the social butterfly at this convention.” He grins knowingly.
I know enough about the man he speaks of to gather that he is being sarcastic, so I just smirk and respond likewise. “Sure, we were discussing weather trends and summer vacation plans over brunch yesterday.”
He snorts. “You’re cute when you think you're funny.”
The bartender returns with our drinks. As I’m looking up from mine, I notice his hungry eyes are caressing every inch of my exposed skin. He’s cute—I’ll give him that. But he doesn’t really do anything for me, so I just smile politely and return to my conversation with Parker. From the corner of my eye, I notice him walking away with a little extra swagger in his step.
Parker’s eyes are glowing with amusement when I look over at him. “That man wants to rock your little world.”
I’m momentarily gripped with grief as I think of Derek and how he would’ve gone all caveman defending his woman against the advances of another.
My expression must give away my thoughts because Parker grabs me by the shoulders and stares deep into my eyes. “It’s been almost a year, Marissa. It’s time to let him go. You have to move on, and now is as good a time as any to test the levels of your comfort in doing so.” He gives me a brief hug and then takes a sip of his drink before resuming his lecture.
I already know where this is going because I’ve heard it from everyone who is close to me a million times by now.
“What you need is a good fucking.”
The drink that I just guzzled spews out over my lips as I cough and sputter in surprise at his bold statement.
The bartender appears out of nowhere with a handful of napkins that Parker quickly snatches from his grasp. The two men share a measured look and then the bartender seems to think better of whatever he was about to say before he steps away.
Parker starts blotting the counter and handing me napkins to clean myself up. “Now, as I was saying...you need a cataclysmic orgasm to rid you of the sour expression that haunts your beautiful face. I think that’s the only cure for what ails you these days.” I try to butt in, but he raises his hand to silence me. “Hear me out, Marissa. I know you’re still grieving and I know you can’t commit to a serious relationship right now. But what if it was just about sex and nothing else. What if you just allowed yourself a moment of bliss before all of the pain returned to consume you. Is that truly such a terrible fate?” His left brow quirks up in question.
I sit in silence and brew over his comment. Could I allow another man to touch me in such an intimate way? Derek was the only man I had ever been with. Hell, he’s the only man I’d ever kissed. We were so young when we met and I knew right away that I had met my one true love. It may sound cliché, but we were destined to be together. Everything about the two of us just clicked. Sure, we had our arguments and bouts when we would behave like immature kids and ignore each other out of spite. But in the end, our love was pure. It was as natural as breathing to us. Love consumed us both to the very depths of our souls, and once we were married, we were inseparable.
How could I ever taint that by allowing another to touch me as Derek had? Our passion was a sacred thing to me and I honestly don’t think I could stomach sharing that with anyone else. It’s all I have left of him...those moments and how he worshipped my body, inside and out.
But then I think of the books I’ve been reading and my face flushes a little. That’s nothing like what I shared with Derek. My red cheeks don’t go unnoticed by Parker. “See. You know I’m right.”
“I don’t know, Park. Just when I think that I’m ready to move on, I’m hit with this...” I struggle to put it into words so that he can understand.
“Guilt,” he quips, his expression far too perceptive. “Why don’t you try experiencing something completely different.” I try to speak, but he continues. “No, you need to hear me out on this. What about those books you’ve been reading? Those intrigue you, don’t they? That lifestyle. That kind of kink.” He waggles his brows.
I focus on my drink and run my thumb around the rim of my glass as the images provoked by those books run through my mind. I told Parker a while back that I was fascinated by the lifestyle those books portrayed. The thought of having someone to analyze my sexual and emotional needs beyond momentary satisfaction is appealing. The Doms in those books are meticulous and thrive on the control they exert over their submissives. It’s a world unlike anything I’ve yet to encounter. Who wouldn’t be intrigued?
His hand over mine stills my circular motion on my glass. I raise my eyes to his. “Listen. I know of a place where you can explore the lifestyle you’ve read about. It’s a club where fantasies turn into reality and anonymity is of the greatest importance.” He pauses, his eyes taking in the curiosity that I no longer care to conceal. He gives a subtle nod. “That’s my girl. Just remember, this kind of relationship is going to be unlike anything you’ve experienced before. It’s not about hearts and flowers.”
“I don’t need hearts and flowers or awkward dates. I need an emotional disconnect. I want something...” I debate on whether or not to tell him about my recent infatuation with books exploring S&M relationships. Those books gave me an unexpected thrill while reading them. The thought of a man tying me down and inflicting pain on me for his pleasure, and ultimately my own, makes my core tingle with excitement.
I would have never broached the subject with Derek. He was too old fashioned for that sort of perversion, and he would have probably laughed at me for even thinking it.
“Marissa.” Parker’s voice pulls me back to the conversation at hand. “You and Derek were married so young that I don’t believe you’ve ever had the chance to really discover who you are without him.” He looks at me sympathetically. “You’re entering a phase in your life when you can feel free to discover what it is that makes you the woman you are—and what it is that you desire. You don’t have to subject yourself to anyone’s scrutiny. Not even your own. Just do what makes you feel good and accept that it’s right for you.” He takes a sip of his drink before meeting my eyes again. “No one else’s opinion matters.”
I release a heavy breath.
He’s right. All I’ve done is second-guessed myself since the day Derek died. I keep thinking that I need to stay true to the woman who was married to him. But I’m not that woman anymore. When he died, she died as well.
Parker and I finish up with our drinks and are about to head upstairs and call it a night when a group of gentlemen calls out his name. We both turn around to four men in business suits. The two in the front are a little older than we are. Both have sprinkles of gray throughout their brown hair. The two in the back are deep in conversation with one another with their back turned partially toward us so I can’t get a good look at their faces.
“Parker! Good to see you, son. How’s the family been?” the gentleman to the right asks as he clasps Parker’s hand in a firm shake
.
“They’re doing well, sir. And how are the missus and your daughters doing? They should be right about college age if my memory serves me right,” Parker asks as he takes a commanding stance and unknowingly blocks me from their view.
I can barely see the men over his shoulder as they speak of holiday get-togethers and little Sarah having grown up and going off to pursue her law degree. After a few minutes of this, I ease my way back over to the bar and order another drink.
The flirty bartender appears to have finished his shift and this time a young woman with long blond hair takes my order and rushes around to prepare my drink. Behind me, I can hear the men deep in conversation with Parker, their voices growing more hushed by the minute. I look over my shoulder to see that all four men have formed a circle around Parker and they appear to be discussing something of great importance. Each man nods enthusiastically and Parker steps from the center and makes his way back over to me.
As he approaches the bar, my brow raises in question. “What was that all about?” My tone is a little sharper than I intend, but I could tell that they were discussing something secretive and I want in on it.
His toothy grin lets me know he’s up to no good. “You know that club I was telling you about?” I nod. “Well, it appears tonight is open to nonmembers. By invitation only, of course.”
“And?”
“We’ve been invited,” he says, his voice raising an octave with excitement.
Before either one of us can utter another word, the gentleman that Parker was speaking to appears on my right and asks to speak with Parker in private again.
“I’ll be right back. Wait here for me.” He winks at me and then follows the man back over to the group.
I plop down in my seat and check my phone for missed messages. My father was supposed to represent his company at this event, but he fell ill at the last minute and had to stay home. I shoot him a quick text to let him know I spoke with the coordinator about emailing him the presentations shown.
My phone pings immediately with his response and I can’t help but smile as I read his complaints about how my mother is suffocating him with good intentions. She’s demanding he sleep no less than ten hours a day and shoving chicken noodle soup down him as if it were a cure for all his troubles.
I finish texting him and drop my phone back into my purse. As I wait on Parker, I get the funny sensation of someone watching me. I spin on my seat and look around, but find no one in particular looking my way. The feeling doesn’t ease and my body grows tense as the hair on the back of my neck stands to attention.
“You ready?” I yelp, jumping out of my seat and nearly dropping my purse.
“Dammit, Park. You scared me to death,” I say as I try to compose myself.
He looks at me curiously, a deep V forming between his brows. “You’re jumpy.” He looks around before his focused gaze returns to me. “Did someone bother you?”
I shake my head. “No, I was just texting my father and I guess I was so focused that I didn’t hear you coming.”
He reluctantly nods. “Okay. You just have this weird look on your face.” He drops the subject and grins triumphantly. “Are you ready for this?”
“What exactly is this?”
“The club. I have procured two invitations. One for me and one for a guest of my choosing.” He rocks up on his toes excitedly. “You have no idea how hard it is to get into this place. Getting an invite is like winning the lottery.”
I smile. “Well, then, what are we waiting for?” I grab my purse.
Parker settles up the bar tab and then we head up to our rooms to get ready.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind me, I spring into motion. A quick glance at the clock lets me know that I have two hours to get myself together.
By the time I’m standing in front of the mirror, I’ve convinced myself this is what I need to do in order to move on. I need to cut ties with the person I was while with Derek and form a new me. An alter ego, so to speak.
I raise my eyes to the full-length mirror and take in my appearance with a no small amount of apprehension.
My dark hair is pulled to the side and lies in soft waves over my left shoulder. The only thing sexy in my bag was a black cocktail dress. The look it lends screams sophisticated vixen and will no doubt call attention to my body. My shoulders are bare because the A-line Russia banded design is strapless and extremely form fitting. Even though it’s solid black, the woven bands give it an almost leathery texture, defining my curves flawlessly.
I sit down on the bed and strap on a pair of heels. I wind the silk ribbons around my legs and then tie them mid-calf. The bright red is a stark contrast to my black dress, but these shoes are to die for. As Parker says, they’re fuck-me shoes. So, I’m going to suffer through the uncomfortable height of the heels and lack of support in order to achieve my sexy bedroom appeal.
I rise and glance one last time at the mirror.
I have never worn an outfit like this and the only reason it was even packed in my bag was because Leah put it there...along with the shoes. I think her and Parker have been conspiring together to get me out onto the dating market.
I run my finger under my eye to remove a tiny smudge of mascara. I’ve never been able to apply the smoky eye make-up appropriately, but when you’re staying in a five star hotel that has a make-up artist and hair stylist on call...beauty is just a phone call away.
I smile, feeling sexy for the first time in what seems like forever.
I pace the hall holding my clutch purse so tight my knuckles are white.
Waiting and waiting and waiting. I can’t believe Parker hasn’t left yet. I swear that man would be late for his own funeral. I look over at the clock and see that it’s nearly nine forty-five.
I walk a few more circles around and then glance over to see ten minutes has passed and Parker still hasn’t come out. I stride over and knock on his door. After a minute or two with no response, I knock again.
Nothing.
I reach into my purse and pull out the spare room key and let myself in. “Parker?” I call out as I walk in and scan for his whereabouts. “Parker?”
I’m met with silence and an empty designer shopping bag on his bed.
“Bastard. He’s already left.” I pull my phone out, ready to text him, and see there’s a message waiting for me.
All guests are to arrive at 10pm sharp. A driver is waiting for you at the main entrance.
“What?” None of this makes any sense. Where is Parker and why am I getting a text from an unknown number?
I click on Parker’s contact and shoot him a quick text.
Where are you and why did you leave without me? I press send and wait for his response.
My phone pings with an alert and I quickly tap Parker’s name to pull up his message.
Sorry, had to arrive early to fill out paperwork. They’re sending a car for you. See you in a bit.
I scurry as fast as my alarmingly high heels will allow out of his room and down the hall to the elevator. Now I’m late, and my escort for the night is already there. Brilliant.
When I arrive at the main entrance, the doorman tips his hat and opens the door to a black SUV. “Is this for Marissa Frasier?” I ask, pointing to the big SUV.
“That it is, Madame.”
I give a thankful smile and climb into the vehicle, making myself as comfortable as my dress permits.
About fifteen minutes later, the driver pulls into a long, winding driveway that looks as if it’s taking us to a surreptitious country club. When the SUV parks at the front entrance, the driver peers back at me through his rearview mirror with shadowed eyes.
I give him a forced grin and quickly move to exit the vehicle. This guy is giving me the creeps and I want out of the vehicle...yesterday. As soon as I close the door behind me, he drives off. I heave a sigh of relief at his departure.
It’s pitch black and I can’t see a thing except for the small lantern light above a
massive double door. I walk as gracefully as my shoes allow over what appears to be a cobblestone driveway. Go figure. Just my luck when I’m wearing stilts for shoes.
I finally reach the door after some evasive maneuvering and push the lighted button...I’m assuming it’s a doorbell. At least, I hope it’s a doorbell. While I wait for whoever mans the door to this mansion to let me in, I adjust my dress and make sure my girls are still neatly tucked inside, gripping my clutch purse as if it’s my lifeline to the outside world.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, but was really only a minute or two, a giant of a man opens the door and peers down at me.
He doesn’t speak a word to me in greeting, and for a moment, I’m struck stupid by his enormous size and intimidating demeanor. “Oh, um...excuse me.” I clear my throat and then announce myself. “My name is Marissa Frasier. I’m a guest of Parker Thibodeaux.” I chance a look at the intimidating man in front of me, and he gives a curt nod before stepping aside to allow me to enter.
“ID and door charge, please,” he deadpans.
I quickly fish out my driver's license and debit card. He scans my ID on a small printer in the corner, swipes my debit card, and returns them to me. His cold eyes lock with mine as his thin lips begin to move. “Purse and cell phones go over there.” He points to a line of what I can only assume is large lockers with keypads on the outside that resembles a digital safe. “I’m the only one with access to them. You need not worry, Madame, your belongings will be secure.” I give a shy smile, stuff my cards back into my purse, and then hand him my items to place inside.
He quickly locks them away and then ushers me down a narrow hallway. “You’ll need to sign the contract at the front desk before entering. If you have any questions, Miss Casandra will answer them before you enter.” He points to a wide wooden desk at the end of the hall.
I turn around to thank him, but he’s already making his way back toward the front entrance without so much as a backward glance.
As I approach the elegant desk, the gorgeous redhead sitting behind it stands to greet me with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. Her teeth are so white they look like Chiclets instead of real teeth. Her beauty is a study of flawless plastic surgery, but it’s paid off for her because she is absolutely stunning.
A Whisper Of Solace Page 22