Nights With Parker

by Tribue,Alice

  “Riley?” I call before she has a chance to retreat.

  “Yes, sir?” She looks me dead in the eyes; her posture is firm, and her shoulders squared. She’s used the time away from me to re-up her defenses.

  “What does one do for fun in Savannah?”

  She lets out an audible sigh, relaxing just a little before responding.

  “Well, there’s a ton of museums you can check out, and you can take a walking or a trolley tour through the historic district.” Her blue eyes glimmer in the dimly lit space, and I imagine what they look like in the moments before she comes. I imagine her mouth involuntarily opening mid gasp as I slam my cock into her. I imagine a throaty cry when I pull out and thrust back in. This is where my mind goes; all the while, she stands there looking the picture of virginal innocence.

  “I just got into town a few hours ago. Would you have any interest in perhaps giving me a tour?” And a ride.

  She looks at me as though she can read my thoughts. She knows I’d like to fuck her until she sees God, and she wants no part of that kind of spiritual awakening.

  “I don’t make it a habit of going out with people I don’t know.”

  “Then how do you ever get to know anybody?” I retort with my best flirtatious grin.

  “I’m going to go check on your food.” She’s gone before I can utter another word. Before, she was just a pretty girl I could see myself fucking … but now, she’s become a challenge. One way or another, this is going to end with her mouth wrapped around my cock.

  I let her keep her careful distance when she delivers my dinner, watching her through the corner of my eye as she checks on her other tables, and give her the polite “good, thank you,” when she asks how my meal is.

  “I’ll take this whenever you’re ready,” she says, placing the check on the table after having cleared my plate and asking if I had room for dessert.

  “I’m ready now.” I pull my wallet out, grab the first credit card I see, and hand it to her. When she comes back with my receipt, she gives me a forced smile.

  “You have a wonderful evening.”

  “Do you work again tomorrow, Riley?”

  Her hesitation is cute, but it only makes me want her more.

  “Yes.”

  “What time?”

  She debates whether to answer me because she can’t tell which way the conversation will go. It takes a second, but she finally speaks.

  “The dinner shift.”

  “Wonderful,” I say, pushing my chair back and rising to my feet. The contrast in our height is significant; the way I tower over her gives me a sense of power. “I have a meeting in the morning, but if you’d be interested, I’d be more than happy to pay you to be my tour guide.”

  Her eyes grow wide with surprise and confusion. “I’m sorry; I don’t think I can do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not a tour guide,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders. “Actual tour guides would do a much better job than I would.”

  “Likely so,” I agree with a smile. “But I want you.”

  “Why?” she asks, shifting her weight in a sign of annoyance.

  “Because I’d like to see some of the sights, and I’d very much enjoy the company of a beautiful woman when I do it.”

  “Look …”

  “Oliver,” I interject, trying to make this more personal by extending my name.

  “Oliver, I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

  “Why not? We know each other now. We’re on a first-name basis.” She smiles, and I know she’s wavering, but I decide to sweeten the pot and make it more about business than anything else. “Would one hundred dollars do?”

  “It’s not about …”

  “Two hundred.”

  “Oliver.”

  “Fine. I will give you five hundred dollars for three hours.”

  “A three-hour tour?” she questions with a raised eyebrow and the barest hint of a smile.

  “Yes. A three-hour tour. Do we have a deal, Riley?”

  “You do know you can get a tour for a fraction of that cost, don’t you?”

  I sigh in mock frustration. “Riley.”

  “Okay.”

  I pull a business card out of my wallet and hand it to her. “I’m staying at the Hyatt Regency; meet me outside at eleven am,” I instruct before walking away, not giving her a chance to back out.

  CHAPTER TWO

  OLIVER

  “Effective immediately, the entire housekeeping staff is being let go.” I say the words, aware of how harsh they sound, but there is no easy way to say them. I’ve never seen such a filthy fucking hotel in my entire life. The groans and moans of those affected hit me with a tremendous amount of force. I feel bad for some of them, I really do. It’s never fair when the good employees are punished because of the carelessness of the bad ones, but I don’t have time to weed out the good from the bad. This hotel needs to be in top condition quickly if it’s going to be a Parker Hotel.

  “You’ll each receive a severance package that will be determined by the length of your service, and you’ll all be entitled to collect unemployment benefits, but as of today, I’ve contracted a temporary cleaning service to relieve you of your duties. I’ll be taking time over the next few months to hire a new staff, and you are all more than welcome to apply.”

  I say this in order to give them some type of hope, but the chances of me hiring any of them are slim. I’ve barely even said thank you before I turn and walk out of the conference room. It’s just easier that way. Thinking about looks of sadness, anger, and disappointment doesn't help me to get the job done. Checking the time as I get in my car, I surmise that I have less than half an hour before I’m due to meet Riley. Within a matter of minutes, I’m parked and making my way to the hotel. When I reach my room, I quickly undress, throwing my discarded suit on a nearby chair to change into comfortable pair of jeans and a t-shirt. My phone rings, and I know it’s either Jacob or my father wanting a brief about this morning’s announcement. They’ll just have to wait until I’m ready to return the call. I grab my wallet, leaving my phone where it is on the bed, and head downstairs.

  As promised, Riley is waiting for me out front. Her blond hair waving in the wind makes her look almost whimsical. As her eyes lock on mine, my step falters, making me pause for a moment. Her gaze hits me as if it were a physical force, like a beam pulling me to her, and for the briefest of seconds, I’m left feeling bare, vulnerable even. The feeling makes me uncomfortable, makes me want to turn and walk away, because I swear she can see right through me. I could swear that with one look at me, she can see everything about me that lies buried deep, past the carefully crafted façade to a view I’m not happy to share.

  “Riley,” I greet, as I recover and continue my trajectory to her.

  “Oliver,” she returns with a shy smile.

  She looks different in the light of day, outside of the dimly lit restaurant where she works. She has a lovely glow to her skin, her cheeks tinted a demure shade of pink, and her pouty lips glossed in a soft nude color. You wouldn’t find a face like hers in the pages of a fashion magazine; she’s far too pure and clean for that. The girl next door who, given the right tools, would bring any man to his knees. Her beauty is there, but hidden, and she likes it that way. She likes to blend in with the crowd. Being the center of attention makes her uncomfortable. She’s not comfortable with my eyes on her and the thoughts she knows are in my head.

  “I’m glad to see you made it,” I say when I finally reach her.

  She averts her gaze, choosing instead to glance at the ground rather than look me in the eye. I like that she reacts to me like this. I like that I intimidate her. Her body language tells me that I have the upper hand, and that’s always my goal.

  “I said I would,” she replies quietly. So quietly that I could have easily missed it above the chatter on the street.

  “And you’re a woman of your word.”

  “I a
m.” She finally looks at me, gives me her pretty eyes, and the thoughts her gaze ignites in me are even more fucked up than I care to admit.

  “That’s an excellent trait to have.” I compliment her, hoping that it will help her relax a bit.

  “What would you like to see today?” she asks, steering the conversation away from herself. I like that too, the moments when she tries to keep me at bay. She’s a challenge, and I can see that. Unfortunately for her, I don’t normally back away from a challenge.

  “I will follow wherever you lead … Lead away.”

  ***

  “Are you hungry? We can stop for lunch if you want?” Riley asks after we leave the museum where we have spent the last hour. I must admit she took her duties as a tour guide seriously, packing in as much as she could in our three hours together.

  “Lunch would be good,” I reply, trying to come to terms with how vastly different my reactions to this girl are at different times. How when I first met her, I felt a strong sense of lust for her, how this morning, I wanted to get away from her as quickly as possible, and how now … well, now, I don’t know.

  She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met—beautiful in one respect but simple in another. Shy in one instance, but fearless in the next. Everything about her is a contradiction, and I feel this intense need to peel back the layers of her in order to discover what’s at the core. That doesn’t matter, though. I have no room in my life for someone like her. There’s no time for me to explore the different nuances of her because I’ll only be here for a few months. The best I can hope for is to fuck the shit out of her and let that satisfy whatever craving I have for her.

  We walk into a small restaurant, much like the one I found her working in yesterday, and we’re seated at a bistro table alongside a picturesque window. We place our orders then sit silently, both of us staring out at the city, watching the people walking by, the window shoppers, and the obvious sightseers.

  “It really is a beautiful place,” I comment, trying my best to break through the ice that keeps her far removed. “Thank you for showing me around.”

  Her eyes land on mine, but she looks right through me. “You’re welcome.”

  “Have you always lived here?”

  “I spent some time away at college, but other than that, yeah, I’ve always lived here.”

  “Where did you go to college?”

  “Duke.”

  “Impressive,” I respond, and I wonder how someone who went to a university as prestigious as Duke ended up waiting tables.

  “Where are you from?” she questions. I gather that it’s her attempt at deflecting, shifting the spotlight onto me rather than keeping it on herself.

  “New York. Have you ever been?”

  “No.” Her response is quick, short, as if she’s trying to control the conversation by giving minimal information. I like it. I find her reaction to me amusing. She doesn’t trust me, and she shouldn’t. I’m not someone she should ever put her faith in.

  “Would you like to go?”

  She shakes her head. “Large, overcrowded cities don’t interest me.”

  “Fair enough.” I lean back in my chair and take a sip of my drink. I wonder what it would take to crack this girl, to get Riley to open up, because that’s the key with her. She’s not the kind of girl who’s easily seduced. There’s a wall there, a guard, and it’s firmly in place. I wouldn’t even make it to first base like this. I’ve never encountered someone like her; the women I’m used to don’t require special attention. They’re usually more than willing to let me have my fill. Then again, they know my name and the weight that it carries. They think that by letting me fuck them the way I want to, I’ll keep them. The only problem with that is I’ve yet to meet a woman I’ve wanted to keep around. Not ever.

  “How long will you be in town?” Riley questions, cutting into my thoughts.

  “A while.” I give her a vague response, much like the ones she’s given me. Let’s see how she feels when the shoe is on the other foot. I think maybe she gets off on being difficult, but maybe she doesn’t know she gets off on it. She obviously doesn’t know it does something particularly special to me.

  “So you’re here for work?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Hospitality.”

  She bites her lip, and I can tell she wants to prod for more information, but she takes a sip of her drink instead. Our meals are delivered, and again, we sit in silence as we eat. Every so often, I feel her eyes on me; I’m as much of a mystery to her as she is to me. I decide right then that if she shuts me down today, I’ll leave her alone. She’s the type of distraction that I don’t need. Like a puzzle that will drive you mad with the desire to solve it.

  We leave the restaurant once we finish our lunch. Together, we walk back to my hotel, and though we’re side by side, we couldn’t be any farther apart.

  “Well, here you are. Safe and sound back where we started,” she says, coming to a halt a few feet away from the entrance.

  “I never doubted my safety for a second.”

  She smiles at me, and for the first time, I feel like it’s genuine. It lights up her entire face, and I almost feel honored to have witnessed it because you just know it doesn’t happen often.

  “Well, we wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation as an amazing tour giver.”

  “No, we wouldn’t want that,” I agree with a smirk, pulling an envelope out of my pocket and extending it to her. “As agreed upon, five hundred dollars.”

  She looks down at the envelope then back up at me.

  “Keep it.”

  I’m stunned that she’s refusing to accept the money we agreed upon; it’s not like five hundred dollars is chump change. In fact, I’m sure that given her profession, the money would come in handy.

  “Absolutely not. I agreed to pay you for the tour, and that’s what I intend to do.”

  “It wasn’t even a real tour, and it definitely wasn’t worth five hundred dollars.”

  “It was to me. I would have hated being stuck on a tour with a group. I wanted a personal tour, and that’s what you gave me. Take it, Riley,” I demand with a finality in my voice that I know registers with her. She reaches out and takes the envelope.

  “Thank you,” she says quietly as her gaze focuses on the street below her. For some reason, she can’t even look at me. “I guess I’ll get going.”

  “Riley.” I call to her, and her eyes travel upward until they land on my face. Her cheeks are rosy with a light blush, giving away her unwarranted embarrassment. Is she ashamed to take the money? Is that why she didn’t want to accept it?

  “Yes?”

  “Would you like to accompany me upstairs?” The tone of my voice drops to downright lustful, and she doesn’t miss it. Her eyes grow wide and her lips part, allowing her shallow breath to escape, and I think that maybe, just maybe, she wants to come with me. I think maybe she wants me exactly the same way I want her. Or at the very least, she’s curious.

  “I—”

  “Come upstairs with me.” My tone makes it sound like more of a command, and she flinches when I reach out and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Come with me.” It’s a request now, and I give her a gentle tug. I can’t lie. I feel something shift in me when her feet shuffle toward me. Something warms me when she allows me to pull her into the building and onto the elevator. I watch with mild annoyance as the floor numbers flash above but feel an unexplainable amount of relief when the doors open, and she gets off with me. Pulling the room key out of my pocket, I drop her hand long enough to open the door. I usher her inside, tossing the key on a nearby table. At the same time, I note that her hesitation hasn’t dissipated. Her nerves are shot, and I should take the time to calm her down, to make her feel at ease. Instead, I do the exact opposite, even though I know it’s a bad move. I act like a horny teenager, shoving her up against the door and kissing the shit out of her.

  It’s not lost on me that I’ve c
aught her off guard; her lack of resistance is more than evident. But when my tongue slides past her defenses and tangles with hers, she loses the battle. As my arms envelop her, she becomes pliant, melting into me as though she can no longer stand and I’m the only thing keeping her from becoming a puddle on the floor. She grabs my shirt, clutching it with her fists, and when a melodic whimper escapes from her lips, I’m certain of the fact that she’s mine for the taking.

  Shifting us farther into the room, I lead her in the direction of the bed, but she begins to drag her feet. The hands that were moments ago pulling me closer, now push me away. I break the kiss, and stare at her, panting as if I’ve just run a mile.

  “What’s wrong?” I question.

  She takes a step back, her eyes wild, and she looks around the room like a caged animal seeking its escape.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” she says, her voice shaky. She sounds panicked, scared almost.

  “Riley, come here,” I demand, hoping that the tone of my voice will have the same reaction as when I convinced her to come up here. I take a step forward, and she takes one back; it’s a dance I’m not thrilled to participate in.

  “Riley.”

  “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come up here.”

  Her hair fans dramatically across her back as she turns on the balls of her feet and bolts toward the door. I go after her, hoping to catch up with her at the elevators, but she’s too fast. By the time I make it into the hallway, she’s nowhere in sight. She must have gone down the stairwell. I contemplate running after her, but I stop myself. In all my life, I’ve never had anyone literally run away from me.

  “Fuck it.” I told myself I wasn’t going to pursue her if I couldn’t close the deal today, and I need to stick with that. Riley is a distraction I don’t need. Savannah, Georgia, is nothing more than a job site to me, and I won’t stay focused if I get mixed up with a girl like her. Undoubtedly, I could have my pick of hundreds of women in this city for some uncomplicated, no-strings-attached fun. Decision made, I shut the door and push thoughts of Riley out of my mind. Instead of dwelling on the promise of her and what might have happened, I take a shower. The next few hours are spent catching up on work, scheduling contracting bids for the hotel, and returning phone calls. When I’ve had enough of work, I head out into Savannah in search of the nightlife and someone to make me forget about the girl who ran out on me a few hours ago.