Nights With Parker

by Tribue,Alice

  “No, it’s not.”

  She takes a sip of her white wine, mulling something over in her head and looking out the window. When her gaze meets mine again, she continues her questioning.

  “Do you like it?”

  “What?”

  “Your job,” she says with a smile. “Traveling around the world.”

  “I don’t mind the traveling; I’ve been to some very beautiful places.”

  “And the job?” she probes, and I start to realize that Riley is very inquisitive.

  “The job is a job like any other.”

  “So you don’t like it,” she deduces, and I fight the urge to smile.

  “Do you always badger people for information?”

  “No,” she quips with a playful grin. I wonder if she knows that she’s flirting. Probably not. “Just you.”

  “I don’t like it, okay. I don’t like the process of taking over properties and restoring them. It’s tedious, but it’s what’s needed of me.”

  “Well, why do you have to do it? Why can’t you do another job or work somewhere else? Is working for your family your dream?”

  “My dream? Jesus, Riley, don’t you think we’re a little too old for dreams?”

  “You’re never too old to dream, Oliver. It’s okay to want more or hope for something different.”

  “Do you charge by the hour for this advice?”

  “Never mind.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s nice that you still have the passion to dream. Is there a particular dream that you’d like to achieve?”

  “For a while, I thought I’d become a teacher, but then my dad got sick, and I had to come home from school. I helped Mom take care of him, and once he passed away, I had to help her. I couldn’t just leave her alone to deal with everything on her own. It wouldn’t have felt right.”

  “So you sacrificed your dream.”

  “Is it a sacrifice if you’re doing it for love?”

  Is it a sacrifice if you’re doing it for love … I can’t help but be moved by her reasoning, by her devotion to family, but in meeting her mother for only a few minutes, I can see why she’d be so devoted to her. Something about her reminded me of my own mother; I could see the kindness and humility behind her eyes. I catch the same look in Riley in rare unguarded moments, when she forgets the reason she’s currently tied to me.

  “Sacrifice or not, I’m sure it’s worth it.”

  “It is,” she replies instantly. She doesn’t have to think about it, weigh out the pros and cons, or think about all that she’s had to give up for the betterment of her family. If I had to take a guess, I’d say this woman doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body—just look at what she’s doing with me all so that her mother can stay employed. I could easily hate myself for what I’m doing to her, what I’ve gotten her to agree to through blackmail. If I were a better man, I’d call this off, let her off the hook, and let her walk away from me free and clear. The problem in that is that if I do that, then I lose her, and the promise of her is too good to give up. It only confirms what I already knew. I’m not a good man.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  OLIVER

  “Oliver?”

  “Yes,” I respond, as I open the door to my room and let us in. Riley’s dinner came shortly after our conversation, and she ate as I responded to some emails on my phone. There wasn’t any need for further dialogue; she’d severed my mood enough with what had already been said. The troubling part is that even after all she said about her family and her sacrifice, nothing changed for me. My desire for her didn’t diminish at all. In fact, it might have even gotten stronger.

  “I know we’re going to … I mean I ...” she stutters, unable to look me in the face.

  “What is it, Riley?”

  “Can you just … go slow?”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “A little. I mean, you and I … We don’t know each other all that well and …”

  She doesn’t get the opportunity to continue as I close the distance between us, cup her face in the palms of my hands, and kiss her. She gasps when my mouth hits her, but like every other time, her lips part in an open invitation. I know she’s nervous and not the type of girl to sleep with a man she’s just met, but even still, I can tell a part of her wants me. She’s struggling with it, wanting her body to shut me down the way her mind likely has. She’s asked me to take it slow, and I will … but I will not back off. I will not give her time to retreat or run. I could take the time to woo her, to win her over, but I’m just not willing to cross some boundaries. Not for a girl who lives a world away, a girl who would never fit into the life that I live. Everything about her is simple, simple in a way that I almost wish I could have, but my world is much too complicated for a girl like Riley.

  Releasing her face, I slide my hands down and hoist her up into my arms. As if instinctively, she wraps her legs around my waist, and I groan at the feel of her. No one’s ever felt quite this sweet. I take long measured strides in the only direction I care about right now, and once I arrive, I prop my knee up on the mattress and allow us both to fall. I land on top of her, careful not to give her too much of my weight or break the kiss. Her hands find their way up, and she tangles them in my hair, undeniably enjoying what’s happening between us at this juncture. My goal is to drive her absolutely crazy with pleasure. Rolling my body slightly to the side and off her, I slide my hand under her shirt. My cock twitches at the feel of her warm bare skin against my hand, and I can feel her begin to tense beneath me. In response, I kiss her harder, drawing her focus away from what I’m doing with my hand. Our tongues tangle together as I slide my hand up her torso. When I reach her covered breasts, I waste no time in pulling down the cups of her bra and fingering one of her pebbled nipples.

  “Oliver.” She gasps with her mouth still against mine.

  Gently, I bite her upper lip and give it a tug, again drawing her attention back to the kiss. This gains me a whimper from her, and I know I’ve succeeded in distracting her. Her small moans continue as I kiss and play with her small breasts, and when she starts to rock her hips slightly, I know that her body is ready for more, even if she’s not.

  As I yet again intensify the kiss, barely letting her come up for air, I’m able to slide my hand inside her shorts and under her panties.

  “Wait,” she cries in a panic. “What are you doing?” she says, as she tenses up on me.

  “I’m taking care of you,” I whisper with a smile, my lips still against hers.

  “Maybe this is going too fast.” She pants through short bursts of air.

  I’m amused by how cute she is, how adorable it is that she’s nervous to be with me. It makes me wonder how many sexual partners she’s had in the past, and if she’s been seriously involved with all of them. She seems like the kind of girl who would prefer to have a bond with the man she chooses to take to her bed, an emotional connection, or at the very least, a deeper level of comfort. I decide to do my best to make her feel as comfortable as possible. I want this to be just as good for her as it is for me.

  “Let me show you how good fast can be.” I grin at her as I slide my finger between her saturated lips. I watch in fascination as she sucks in a breath and closes her eyes at the sensation of my finger connecting with her clit.

  “If you relax for me, I’ll make you feel good,” I tell her placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. It’s affectionate in a way that I’m normally not, but it’s how I want to be with her. Probably because I think she needs that from me right now. She needs to feel like this isn’t wrong, even if the way we got here was questionable. “I promise,” I whisper.

  She nods her head and whimpers when my finger begins to move in lazy circles. The tension starts to ease out of her body, and she relaxes as her hips slowly begin to move with my touch.

  “Does that feel good, Riley?”

  “Yes,” she breathes out. Her eyes remain closed, but I watch her, watch how her expressions go from scared,
to pleasured, to damn near blissful when I pick up the pace. She’s lost the battle between body and mind; her body clearly the victorious of the two as she writhes now that her climax draws near. Her soft panting and the sounds she makes are the sexiest I’ve ever heard with a distinct mix of raspy and feminine that drives me insane. I know she’s about to detonate as her legs begin to tense up again.

  “Oliver,” she calls, opening her eyes and looking frantic, almost fearful.

  “Let go, baby,” I tell her, pressing down harder on her clit. I watch her, completely captivated by the look on her face, by her movements, the way she closes her eyes. Captivated by the way her head falls back and her long hair cascades like a fan beneath her. Captivated by the way her mouth forms a perfect “O” right at the moment her orgasm hits, and she cries out my name as she rides it out. Beautiful. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful in my life.

  I take full advantage of the time it takes for her to recover and quickly divest her of her shoes, shorts, and panties. Slowly, I massage her inner thighs, watching as her breathing regulates and her eyes finally flutter open.

  “You good?” I ask, unable to do anything but smile at her. I take in the sight of her—her dewy skin, her flushed cheeks, and her pouty lips. The beauty of how innocent she looks at this exact moment.

  “I …” she begins, but all I can focus on is her drenched pussy and how badly I want to taste it.

  “You’re coming for me again,” I tell her, giving her no room to argue. I begin to push her legs farther apart.

  “I can’t.”

  “You can and you will,” is the last thing I say to her before I lick her from front to back.

  “Oh, my God, I can’t.” She pants, bucking her hips off the mattress, but I pin her back down. I start up on her clit again, this time with my tongue, pushing her further than I think she knew she was capable. I can hear her beginning to whimper once the sensitivity from her first orgasm fades away, and she begins to enjoy what’s happening now. I push her, licking faster and pressing down harder on her clit, and her quiet whimpers turn into louder moans. I’m relentless, never letting up, never letting her catch her breath, not even for a moment. She screams when the next climax hits her, and I can tell that it’s bigger than the last. Only when she tenses and tries to push me away do I release her and stop.

  Again, she closes her eyes; her hands cover her face, and her breath comes in short quick pants. I undress faster than I ever have before because I can’t wait to be inside her. In fact, I’ve never wanted to be with anybody the way I want her. For the briefest of moments, I consider not even bothering with a condom. I’m clean, and I’ve never come across a woman this age who isn’t on some form of contraception. I don’t fucking care. I want her that bad, but regardless, I grab a condom from my wallet, quickly tear the package and roll it on. I climb back on the bed, position my knees between her legs, and before she can protest, I’ve grabbed the hem of her shirt and practically ripped it up and over her head.

  “Oliver, wait,” she says, but I only have eyes for her breasts, which are still outside the bra cups. I thank God when I realize the clasp is in the front, and I waste no time in undoing it, watching as the last article of clothing is removed.

  “Oliver, I need you to listen to me.”

  I hear her say the words, but I don’t respond. Instead, I lick and flick each of her tan nipples with my tongue. She moans for me, drawing my attention back to her mouth. I kiss her again, needing to taste her, needing her to taste herself on me, and when I’m sure that I’ve gotten her thoroughly distracted, I line my cock up with her slick opening and plunge in.

  “Fuck.” I grunt, cursing at the conclusion I’ve just come to as she lets out a piercing scream. I’m stuck there suspended over her; both of us wide-eyed, her face registering pain while neither of us is able to move. “You’re a virgin?”

  She doesn’t need to answer because I know it’s true. I’ve never experienced being with a virgin before, but even I’m not that imperceptive. I could feel her barrier tear away as I thrust into her impossibly tight heat.

  “I tried to tell you,” she whispers, and I want to get up, tell her to get dressed, and to get the fuck out. Then I notice her eyes filling up with unshed tears and realize what I’ve done. I take a moment to realize what she’s done, the sacrifice she made because of me.

  Is it a sacrifice if you’re doing it for love…

  That’s what she said earlier, and it hits me hard, harder than I thought it would to see the pain and sadness in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” She pushes her hands against my chest in a feeble attempt to get me off her. I know she’s upset and likely embarrassed, but I don’t budge. Instead, I take one look at her and make a choice. It’s probably the wrong choice, but I make it anyway. I’ll worry about the repercussions later.

  “Don’t be sorry,” I try to reassure her. I wipe her tears away then place my forehead against hers, trying to get her to focus on me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I … I think so.”

  I slide my hands up into her hair, and give her a soft kiss, doing my best to make her feel at ease.

  “We’re going to take it slow now, but I need to move. Can you relax for me?”

  She lets out a deep breath and nods her head in confirmation. In response, I begin to place kisses on her neck, her jawline, her cheek, and finally, her mouth. Once I feel her melt into the kiss, I slowly begin to move again, careful not to go too fast at first. She breaks the kiss and her eyes shut tightly as if she’s wincing from pain.

  “Oliver.”

  “It’s okay,” I try to reassure her. I push up slightly and maneuver a hand between us to find her clit. I begin to massage it in gentle, lazy circles and continue to move my hips slowly, letting her get comfortable with the change in position. It takes a minute, but once she begins to whimper for me, I pick up my pace. Once I get into a steady rhythm, I continue to focus on her clit, doing my best to draw out another release from her. All the while, I’m thinking that sex has never felt this fucking good … ever. I don’t know if it’s the fact that she’s a virgin or because it’s just her, but I’ve never been so drawn to a woman before. Either way, I know that once isn’t going to be enough. No. I’m uncertain if I’ll ever get my fill of her, but I have this overpowering urge to be the one to teach her everything there is to know about sex. I have an irrational desire to claim her, but I push that thought out of my head and focus on what’s happening at the moment. Her cries intensify as I increase the pressure on her clit.

  “Oliver,” she calls, and I know she’s close.

  “That’s it, baby. Let go.”

  Her hands grab my biceps, and she squeezes tight and cries out as her orgasm hits. Her pussy squeezes my cock, and the feeling is unbelievable … indescribable. Increasing the pace of my thrusts in order to finish, I go as fast as I can without hurting her and finally let go. Collapsing on top of her, I’m again careful not to give her the entirety of my weight, and I kiss her neck as I listen to her soft panting while her body recovers from her orgasm.

  “Hi,” I say when her eyes finally flutter open. She stares at me and gives me a shaky smile.

  “Hi,” she responds, and I watch as tears fill her pretty blue eyes and spill over.

  I pull out of her as gently as I can and push myself up to a sitting position, pulling her up with me. She reaches for her shirt and pulls it over her head, and I observe as she tries to get her emotions in check.

  “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

  “Riley,” I say, grabbing her hand. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. If I had known—”

  “If you had known, what? What, Oliver? Would you have been a nice guy and given my mother that job anyway? Or would you have just dismissed me the way you dismissed that woman I found you up here with?”

  I let out a frustrated sigh because what can I say, she’s right. Given what she knows about me, it’s not hard to figure out that I would have likely sent her aw
ay.

  “I don’t know, Riley. Maybe, but I wish you would have told me anyway.”

  A fresh set of tears hit, spilling down her cheeks and making her already flushed face even redder. I feel like a dick. I’ve hurt this girl, and now, it’s too late for me to fix it. I knew she was innocent, but just how much so, I had no idea. I’d have never touched her if I’d known that she was a virgin.

  “How do you get to be your age and never …”

  “I was saving myself.”

  “For?”

  She looks at me as if I can’t be believed, as if I couldn’t get any dumber if I tried.

  “Marriage.”

  She says the word, and I didn’t think it was possible, but I feel like an even bigger asshole. I don’t say anything. Nothing I can say will make this fucked-up situation any better. She held onto her virginity as a gift to give to someone who she would eventually fall in love with, and she sacrificed that because of me. This might just be the worst thing I’ve ever done. As I sit here and watch her come to terms with what’s just happened, what she’s done, what I’ve done, I think that somehow, I need to make this better for her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  RILEY

  I can’t stop the tears from falling. The loss of something that I’d been holding onto for so long hit me harder than I thought it would. The truth is I’d do it all over again if it meant my mom could have this job. For once, she feels that she can finally provide for herself and for me, and it makes it worth it.

  “It was a promise,” I say to the air, quietly, so quietly that I can barely hear the words myself.

  “What?”

  For a minute, I’d forgotten he was here, sitting cross-legged in front of me. Still completely naked, completely beautiful, and of course, still completely unattainable. But I don’t want him … or do I? Part of my brain keeps telling me there’s more to Oliver than I know, more than anyone knows. I think I’ve seen glimpses of him, especially tonight. How he reacted to me being a virgin; how he took care of me and made sure that it was amazing for me. And it was amazing, that fact is undeniable. I never knew sex could be like that, and I never imagined it could feel that good. I look beyond him to the picture window where the lights from the city flood through.