High Heels and Haystacks: Billionaires in Blue Jeans, book two

by Erin Nicholas

  She moaned and her inner muscles gripped him.

  “Say ‘okay, Parker, whatever you want,’” he told her huskily. He had no idea how he was going to hold on here, but he was going to drag this out, make her wait and beg and fucking submit for as long as he could stand it.

  She hesitated. Even in the throes of passion, it was hard for her to verbalize acquiescence.

  He circled her clit with this thumb and sucked on her nipple again. “Say it,” he commanded gruffly against the stiff tip. He slipped another finger into her. “Say it, Ava.”

  “Okay, Parker.” She was breathless and panting. “Whatever you want.”

  “Damn right,” he muttered. Then he slid down her body, widened her legs, and put his mouth against her pussy.

  She was hot and wet, and the sound she made when he tongued her clit went straight to his cock. He had to reach down and grip hard to keep from coming right then.

  Fuck. This woman was everything.

  “You thought you weren’t sweet?” he asked her. “You have no idea how fucking good you taste.”

  He was never going to get over any of this. She still held the headboard and that sent a shaft of satisfaction through him. He pumped his fingers deeper and faster, flicking his tongue over her clit.

  “Oh, yes, like that.” She lifted her hips, trying to get closer.

  Parker lifted his head, needing to see her face. He replaced his tongue with his other hand, rubbing the sweet nub as he continued to move his fingers in and out in a steady rhythm. “My name, Boss,” he reminded her with a growl. “And if you say it nicely, I’ll make you come.”

  “Parker,” she gasped obediently, right on the edge. “Oh my God. So good. You’re so good.”

  Yep, that was pretty nice. He curled his finger and put his mouth to her clit again, and she came with another gasped, “Parker,” her muscles grabbing his fingers. He pulled away and pushed himself off the end of the bed, quickly shedding his jeans and boxers.

  Her gaze wandered over him, her breathing ragged. Her eyes on his now bare cock made him ache, and he took his length in his hand, squeezing and stroking as Ava lifted her head to watch. He crawled up the bed, taking her chin and devouring her mouth, making sure she tasted herself on his tongue and lips.

  “Sweetest thing I’ve ever eaten,” he said against her lips.

  She moaned and Parker pushed up to kneel next to her. He was suddenly overcome by the reality of tasting her. It seemed tasting was a consistent theme with them, and he needed it to be complete. He took his cock in hand, giving it another much needed hard stroke.

  “Open up, Boss,” he said gruffly.

  Her eyes widened as he turned her face toward him with his other hand. Her lips parted and he leaned in, rubbing the tip of his cock over her bottom lip. Her tongue flicked over the top, and he had to brace himself with a hand on the wall above the headboard.

  He pressed forward and Ava took him in. He kept a hand around his shaft, controlling how far he slid in. He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to thrust.

  Ava moaned, the vibration zinging along his length. His breath hissed out. This was the perfect example of how it seemed he was in charge, but she had him knotted up and on his knees. Literally. Figuratively.

  He pressed in and pulled out a few times, the hot suction of her mouth exquisite torture. “Suck on me, Ava,” he demanded roughly.

  She complied and then knocked the air of his lungs by looking up at him.

  Her fingers were still wrapped around the slats on his headboard, her breasts bouncing as he slid in and out of her mouth, and she pressed her legs together as if she was aching. And still she had all the power here. He wanted to give her anything she wanted. He wanted to be what she needed. What would most make her feel like she’d finally found how to be happy and fulfilled.

  He couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled from her mouth and he reached into his bedside table drawer. He tossed her thong out of the way and grabbed a condom, quickly sheathing himself. He took her hands from the headboard. He rolled to his back, taking her with him. “Ride me, Boss.”

  She didn’t argue, didn’t hesitate. She straddled him, reaching behind her to position him, then eased back. She was slick and hot and he slid home slow and easy, in spite of how tight she was.

  Ava braced her hands on his ribs and her head dropped back as she took him. They paused when he was as deep as he could go. He gripped her hips and let her adjust to his length and girth.

  “Damn,” she finally breathed. “This is even better than your chicken salad.”

  Caught off guard, Parker laughed. Then he squeezed her hips and thrust upward. “You’re not moving. Need you to move.”

  She swiveled her hips.

  “More,” he said through gritted teeth.

  She lifted slightly, then sank back down.

  “More, Boss.” He worked not to grip her hips too hard. “That all you got?” She was teasing him. And while he appreciated the idea of Ava being playful, he was about to lose his mind.

  “I guess so,” she finally answered.

  “Bullshit.” He thrust up, grinding her hips down on his. “Fuck me, Boss. Now.”

  She swallowed. Then she started moving. Really moving. She lifted and lowered her sweet, tight body on his, making Parker have to work to not flip her over and pound.

  “Parker.” Her voice was soft.

  He lifted his hands, brushing her hair back from her face. “Gotta feel you come again, Ava.”

  “I’m close. Help me.”

  Gladly. “Lean back. Play with your nipples.”

  She obeyed and he moved his thumb to her clit, watching her fingers tug on the dusky, pink tips, her expression filled with passion and pleasure.

  “I’ve never come twice in a row,” she told him, raggedly.

  “Of course not. It takes longer to get there twice, right?” He sounded like he was in the middle of a five-mile run.

  “It does. And at the moment I can barely think at all, not to mention remember the password to my email.”

  “Highest compliment,” he said, sincerely.

  “I love that you know that.”

  “I love that you admitted it.”

  “This is going to go to your head, isn’t it?”

  “Already has,” he told her honestly. “As is the fact that you’re about to beg me to fuck you hard. In exactly those words.” He pressed against her clit and reached to tug on a nipple at the same time.

  She gasped, but then managed, “I’ve never said fuck me to anyone.” She was trying to use her haughty tone but considering she was straddling him with his cock buried deep, her hair wild around her shoulders, her lips swollen from his kisses, it wasn’t entirely convincing.

  He knew he was about to get everything he wanted. Still, he lifted his hand to her hair, gathered it back and wrapped it around his fist. He tipped her head back. “Beg me, Ava.”

  She gave a little moan and then gave in. “Fuck me, Parker. Hard. Please.”

  With a grown, he flipped her and thrust deep. “Dig those heels into my ass and hang on, Boss.”

  Ava’s long legs wrapped around his waist and he felt her shoes against his butt. He thrust again and again, picking up speed, until he was pounding into her, relishing her oh Gods, oh yeses and oh Parkers.

  He felt his orgasm building and he reached between them for her clit, swirling his thumb through the slickness, and she shouted his name just as her muscles squeezed and she shot over the summit. He was right behind her, his orgasm thundering through him.

  He held himself still over her, letting the waves of satisfaction roll over him long after she’d melted into the mattress, her arms flopping out to the side and her eyes sliding shut. After his breathing slowed, he flopped to his back beside her.

  “Holy shit, Boss. It’s official—cooking really is the only thing you’re not good at.”

  She laughed, also clearly trying to catch her breath. “Until you got involved, I never really app
reciated food or sex.”

  “That’s so, so sad,” he said, but he absolutely felt like beating his chest.

  She rolled to her side, and he ran his hand up and down her back while she splayed her hand on his stomach. “Parker, I have to tell you something I’ve never said to another guy.”

  He tensed but what went through his mind was fuck yes. He covered her hand with his. “Okay.”

  “I don’t know where my phone is. And I don’t care.”

  His fingers tightened on hers. Not what he’d been expecting—and that was a good thing because what he’d been expecting was ridiculous—but it was monumental. “Love that,” he said honestly. “Not worried about your sisters?”

  She toed her shoes off, the thunks against his bedroom floor making him smile. Then she turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his. “They’ve got Evan and Noah.”

  Parker looped an arm under her and pulled her close. That was big too. She was letting it all go. Which reminded him of why he’d brought her out here in the first place. But she was relaxed right now. Warm and soft—and naked—against him. No way was he disturbing any of this.

  15

  Ava awoke a half hour later, plastered again Parker’s body, feeling like she was curled around a furnace.

  She took a deep, contented breath. And marveled at that word—contented—and the feeling. She hadn’t taken a nap since she’d had the flu six years ago. She rubbed her cheek against his chest. She was napping in the middle of the day and her phone was not just out of arm’s reach, it wasn’t even in the same building. And she didn’t care.

  She lay still for a few minutes, just absorbing the feel of Parker beside her. But slowly, as she came further awake, she started thinking. This was nice. She and Parker were taking the day off. Together. This was epic in many ways. Neither of them had much downtime. And that he’d chosen to spend his with her was really nice.

  But she could check a couple of things on her email if he was going to sleep a little longer.

  Ava looked up at Parker. He was dead asleep, and she loved the idea that he was also content like this. She doubted very much that he took regular afternoon naps. She wanted to kiss him. Her gaze focused on his mouth and she felt warmth wash through her. But not lusty warmth—though his mouth certainly contributed to her physical pleasure with the things it could do and say—but more of a warmth that just felt…good. She loved when his mouth smiled. The things he said that were sarcastic and funny. And sweet. She loved when he got passionate about cooking and food. He had a way of making being fanatical about cheese seem manly and perfectly reasonable.

  She grinned and started to wiggle out from under his arm. She was going to let him sleep. For now. But she wasn’t much for just lying around. She’d check in on a few things and then when he woke up, she’d be all his. A pleasant little shiver went through her. All his. She could definitely get used to that.

  Ava pulled on Parker’s shirt and her panties and tiptoed down the stairs, realizing she’d left her phone in his truck. He lived far enough out here that she could probably run out to the truck naked, but she wasn’t a country girl. At all. She had no idea what else could happen to her when she was naked outside. There were bugs, she was certain. That would be a lot of exposed skin for them to feast on. And she supposed it was possible there were wild animals. She wasn’t sure what kind of animals were native to the plains of Kansas—she made a note to look that up once she was safely back inside—but it was possible there were bears or wolves or something, she supposed.

  Ava got to the front door before she realized she’d left her shoes upstairs. She peered through the window in the front door, eyeing the wooden porch and the paved path leading away from the steps and the swath of dirt between the end of the path and the truck. The last time she’d been barefoot outdoors, she’d been on the deck of a yacht. She glanced around and noted a pair of dirty, scuffed tan boots that would go past her ankles. They had a thick rubber sole and looked entirely practical for the farm. Which made her grimace slightly. Farm footwear was not going to be her favorite thing. But as she bent to pull them on, Parker’s scent wafted up from the shirt and she smiled. She could maybe put up with some ugly, practical boots once in a while if it meant hanging out here with Parker.

  The boots were huge on her, but she laced them tightly enough that she could pick her foot up without the boot slipping off her foot entirely. She shuffled across the porch, down the steps and to the end of the paved path. But as she stepped off onto the dirt, a rooster crowed. She froze, one boot on the path, one on the dirt. She looked around furtively. That sound came from a male chicken. And that was the sum total of her knowledge about roosters. Fuck. She took a deep breath. Okay, roosters were common barnyard animals. And barnyard animals were generally mild-tempered and kept inside pens. At least according to the children’s books she’d read about farms. Surely publishers wouldn’t allow authors to lie to children, right? But then, there were all those books about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Yeah, they would totally lie.

  She eyed the truck door, then glanced back at the house. How much did she need her phone? The rooster crowed again and, with her heart thundering in her ears, and gigantic, thousand-pound boots on her feet, she scooted to the truck door, ripped it open, grabbed her phone and was back on the porch within seconds.

  Once inside, she leaned against the front door, breathing hard. Damn, doing stairs with weights on her feet as fast as she could while adrenaline pumped had the potential to be a great workout.

  She took the boots off and worked to steady her breathing and slow her heart rate as she typed do roosters attack people into the search bar in her phone. The first thing to pop up was How to Deal With Aggressive Roosters. Uh-huh. Ava read it quickly, frowning harder as she delved into the article. When she got to the part that said, “they can even put out a child’s eye”, she’d read enough. Adults most definitely lied to children.

  She climbed the stairs to Parker’s bedroom, thinking about the suggestions in the article for dealing with aggressive roosters. They included things like giving them treats, picking them up, or rolling them over with your foot when they attacked. It was all about showing them you were not the enemy but were higher up the food chain than they were. Ava sniffed. She definitely understood that part of it. Sometimes you had to demonstrate your dominance.

  But she didn’t want to get that close to a rooster. Or maybe any other barnyard animal. If all the children’s books were lies, then she knew even less about farm life than she’d expected. Which would make dating Parker more difficult. Even temporarily. She had to keep reminding herself that this was not a permanent change in her life. It didn’t matter if she figured out how to deal with farm life.

  But…she felt like it did. Because it didn’t have to be temporary. She had a private jet. It wasn’t like she could never see him again once she went back to New York.

  Or she wouldn’t have to go back to New York…

  Cori wasn’t leaving Bliss. And Ava had been running Carmichael Enterprises from here for four months now, and it was working pretty well. A monthly trip to New York could be enough.

  She shook her head as she climbed back up onto the bed next to a still sleeping Parker. Those kinds of thoughts were crazy. What she should be focusing on was that six months was plenty of time to be maimed by an aggressive rooster. But then she looked over at Parker. Really looked at him. And…yeah, her private jet was nice. She’d have no problem traveling between New York and Bliss.

  Ava felt a wave of contentment wash over her again as she propped pillows behind her against the headboard. She liked his bed. It was big and comfortable, and he’d probably had it for at least ten years. She also liked his house. It was an old farmhouse that had maybe been repainted here and there but hadn’t really been changed in years. If ever. It was very Parker in that way. She was still surprised when she thought about his childhood in Chicago, but the man he was now, was the guy he was going to be in ten ye
ars, fifty years, eighty years. And there was something so comforting, and appealing, about that.

  And this house. It was the kind of house that had squeaky steps that you learned to avoid out of habit, and trees in the yard that grew along with the people in the house. His closet was no way big enough for her clothes, or even her shoes, but…they’d deal with that, if needed. She wasn’t ready to downsize her shoe collection—she was falling for him, not going crazy—but if there wasn’t room here, she could turn her bedroom at the house in town into a huge closet.

  And she was very much getting ahead of herself here.

  Still, she pulled the very-farm-cliché patchwork quilt over her legs and started flipping through the internet on her phone, reading articles about living on a farm.

  * * *

  You went and got your phone?”

  Twenty minutes later, Ava was reading about canning. Something she could still not picture her father doing. Ever. She looked over at Parker. He was watching her with sleepy eyes and a grim set to his mouth.

  “Just until you woke up,” she said. She set the phone on the bedside table. She was not going to be canning. But the farm-life rabbit hole she’d gone down had taken her there. Reading the article about aggressive roosters had led her to alpacas—which, besides having fleece that was amazingly useful, could also be used to guard smaller animals, something Ava begrudgingly found fascinating—which led her to goats—some of the animals an alpaca could protect, which led her to vegetables—she didn’t remember how exactly—which led her to canning. And she’d kept reading because of Rudy.

  Ava slid down until she was lying on her side next to Parker. He looped an arm around her, and she was more than happy to press up against his naked form.

  “Thought you were going to nap with me,” he said.

  “I did for a little bit. I’m not much of a napper.”

  “Me either.” He frowned. “Guess I was hoping you’d relax out here with me though.”