by J. D. Light
His body had felt so good in my hands. Nothing like the girls I'd messed around with in the past. There wasn't a soft thing about him.
And if the fact that he continued to call me gorgeous was any indication, he was gay too.
Not that I could do anything about it. Or would even know what to do if I decided to. One, my only experience at all was with the few girls I'd managed to keep it up long enough for. And two, just because he was gay and thought I was attractive, didn't mean he wanted me. Or wanted to deal with my inexperience.
And then there was the fact that I wasn't sure I was ready to come out to anyone, let alone a man I'd just met while he was doing his job by saving me.
Realizing I was touching him again, I pulled the hand that was rubbing circles on his forearm back and dropped it with the other into my lap.
Screwed.
***
Normally, I would have said my libido runs kinda low. Especially for a twenty-one-year-old college student. Don't get me wrong, I thought about sex probably as much as the other guys did. I just hadn’t had that drive to go out and nail anything in my path.
It probably had to do with how busy I tended to make myself so I wouldn't lose my mind thinking about sex, but I was more than proud to say I had never in my life sat and thought about another person so much that I actually craved them.
That was no longer true, and if I didn't stop sneaking off to my room to jack off, my damn dick was going to fall the fuck off.
Parker was trying to kill me. I was used to locker rooms where guys tended to walk around completely butt-ass naked, and I never had so many problems with spontaneous erections as I did because of this one man.
He. Never. Fucking. Wore. Clothes.
Like last night when he got out of the shower and wandered through the house in nothing but a fucking towel for thirty minutes. I sat there on the couch like a mannequin, wishing I could run and hide, but waiting like a pervert for that thing to accidentally unwind from his waist and show me the delicious skin hidden beneath.
He was just so beautifully built. Smooth, tan skin, defined but not chiseled or even bulky muscles, wide shoulders and narrow hips. And his ass. I was going to shoot a load in my pants one of these days just from watching the well-defined globes of his ass as he walked around my kitchen.
Currently, I was trying to keep from swallowing my tongue, because he was making breakfast in nothing but his boxer briefs and an apron. I was having issues with the fact that his underwear did absolutely nothing to hide the line of his crack.
It was like they fit so damn well, they were plastic wrapped onto his body. My dick was so hard, all it would take was an accidental brush from a napkin being placed in my lap, and I'd have a lap full of cum.
"Parker," I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. "Isn't it dangerous to cook without clothes on?"
He spun to look at me just as I opened my eyes, frowning at me and pointing at his chest. "That's why I'm wearing the apron."
Did his voice have to convey his unspoken "duh" so thoroughly?
Sighing, I dropped my forehead to my crossed arms on the table. "You are going to drive me straight up the wall."
"Is this because you don't like eggs?" he asked, his warm breath blowing on the back of my neck. "Because I offered to make pancakes."
Groaning, I lifted my head, not surprised but definitely perturbed to find his face only inches from mine. And that was another problem. He was always in my space. Always reaching out and touching me.
It was amazing, and terrifying, and completely wrecked me. I both craved and loathed his touch. I wasn't sure I could take much more without needing to be checked into the nearest mental facility.
Mentally forcing myself to not watch his mouth or lean those few inches in and capture his perfectly carved lips, I cleared my throat. "I like eggs, Parker. You know I like everything you've made so far." And I did.
He walked around here like some kind of calendar beefcake while simultaneously feeding me and making me laugh. He was perfect, and with every fucking moment that passed in his presence, I was struggling not to attack him.
We were working on day three, and I was no closer to figuring out how to get my body to stop responding to him, or my mind from taking every single thing about him and finding it stupidly endearing.
He reached out, placing his hand on my thigh. It wasn't an overtly sexual gesture, especially given that he was standing in a kind of awkward position next to my chair, but my body locked up, and I had to fight my own hips to keep them from thrusting forward, hoping for his hand to move six inches higher to where my drooling dick was trapped against my stomach in my jeans.
Smirking, he glanced at my lips, licking his own, and all I could think was how bad I wanted to suck one into my mouth and slide my tongue against the beautiful shape.
Damn, he was close. So fucking close. I just wanted a taste. One wouldn't hurt. What was the reason I hadn't kissed him yet? I honestly couldn't remember. Would he even be receptive?
I thought I was about to find out.
"Silver." My mom's shrill voice took me from hot enough to blow to so cold my balls basically sucked back up into my body and disappeared altogether.
"Who the fuck is that?" Parker growled, his forehead falling against mine.
Damn, we really had been close.
Sighing, I slid my chair back and stood. "That would be my mom." Glancing at his handsome face as he, too, stood to full height beside me, I gave one last longing look to his lips. "I never should have given her that fucking key."
Huffing out a laugh, Parker smirked, wiggling his sexy ass back over to where he'd already started piling food on our plates.
I turned to greet my mom and dad as they entered the kitchen. "Hey guys. What are you out doing today?"
I don't know what my mom had originally been about to say, but I could tell by her face it was going to be a reprimand of some sort. That was until it died on her lips the second she spotted Parker over my shoulder.
"Thank God you're okay, Silver. I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you." She threw herself in my arms, hugging me with the type of dramatics I wasn't used to from this woman.
I pulled back, confused, because she was normally an air-kisses-to-the-cheeks type greeter when it came to me.
"Uh, he's been back home for three days." Parkers voice sounded unbelieving and a bit snarky, and as I turned to look at his clearly surprised, you've-got-to-be-fucking-kidding-me face, I wasn't sure if I should duck and cover and leave him to my crazy-ass mother, or tackle him to the floor and take the bullet myself.
Narrowing her eyes, she leaned around me, putting Parker in her sights. "I'm aware of that," she said quietly. Dangerously.
"So, why did it take you this long to come over and be eternally grateful he wasn't raped and murdered?"
Giving Parker a superior once-over, she cocked her head. "And who are you?"
He moved forward with our plates, placing them on the table before skimming around me. I nearly stuck my hand out to stop him before he got close to my mother, but I was distracted by the fact that he'd placed his hands on my hips briefly as he brushed behind me.
Sticking out his hand, he moved within a few feet of my vicious mother, and I eyed his apron strings, wondering if I gave them a good jerk, it would save him from my mother clawing his eyes out.
"I'm Parker Bradley. I was one of the agents working on the kidnapping case. Though I have to say, it was a surprise to find your son there, considering he hadn't even been reported missing yet."
A shiver ran down my spine at the coldness in Parker's voice. A voice I'd only ever associated with warmth up until this point.
Looking suddenly very uncomfortable, my mom shrugged as my father, usually one to stand in the background and only volunteer his two cents when it was about football or how to "be a man" stepped up beside her, clearly trying to intimidate Parker with his large frame.
I would have laughed, because Parker was a shifte
r and far stronger than Jake Bell who was used to bullying his way through life, but I was suddenly not really feeling the humor of the situation.
Parker was right. My parents hadn't reported me missing and hadn't shown up on my doorstep as soon as I was found, telling me how sorry they were that something so traumatic had happened to me.
I'd known for a long time that they were far from model parents, but I'd thought up until now that they had at least a smidge of love and worry for me beyond my football ability.
"To be honest, Mr. Bradley," my mother said, sounding haughty. "We weren't aware that he was missing. I just thought the pressure from school and being on the football team got to him, and he was taking a ill advised break."
"Yes. That is exactly the impression I got from the voicemails we retrieved from your son's phone. But for five days? At what point do you think you would have stopped thinking your son was being a lazy, ungrateful child––'" Parker paused, emphasizing just what he thought of that statement which had indeed been on one of the voicemails my mother had left, "and thought maybe he was in actual trouble."
Pulling her shoulders back, Patricia Bell did her best to glare him down. "I really don't understand what business it is of yours, Mr. Bradley. And for that matter, I don't understand why you're even here in my son's house."
"Did you know that the people who kidnapped your son not only targeted him, but someone he knew actually drugged him so he would be easier to kidnap?" Parker stepped even closer to both my mother and father, and I couldn't help but think that he was the most magnificent human I'd ever met, standing there in nothing but his boxers and an apron, squaring off with my asshole parents on my behalf.
He honestly didn't give a shit that he was less than presentable, or that he was having to look up a few inches to glare into my father's angry face.
"Did you know, Mrs. Bell, that they were planning to sell your son as a sex slave?" Parker's voice was like ice.
Given the entire situation, I probably shouldn't have found the man so fucking sexy, but every single thing about him made my heart rate kick up and my blood flow south.
My mother's eyes widened, and my father's face actually looked horrified. I'd have liked to believe it was because they wouldn't want that for me because they loved me, but after everything, I was kinda starting to believe they would just worry about how that stigma would reflect on them.
"No," Parker continued. "I'd say you didn't know any of that. And the reason I know you didn't know any of that is because when he called you to tell you he had been kidnapped, but he was now safe, you jumped down his throat about football and only stopped freaking out when we let you know that we were going to clear things up with the coach and the athletic board. And then you proceeded to not ask a fucking thing about what happened to him or contact him in any way for three days. That's how I know that you don't actually know any of the details, and frankly, don't seem to give a shit."
"Young man," my dad started, pushing his chest out and stepping more into Parker's space. "You better watch how you talk to us. The point is, my son is back now and seems fine. What further business do you have here?"
"My business is to keep your son safe and catch whoever drugged him."
"We'll keep our son safe," my mother said, putting her hands on her hips. "You can conduct your investigation from a different location."
"No," Parker said simply, staring my mother and then my father in the eyes.
"I assure you, Mr. Bradley, now that we know there is a problem, we are more than capable of keeping him safe." Her voice was starting to take on that strained politeness I knew she wasn't actually in the mood to use.
"And I assure you, Mrs. Bell, that until I know for sure, I'm not leaving your son's safety in the hands of anyone but myself."
"We'll see about that," my dad said, taking my mother's arm and pulling her to the door. "I intend to speak to your superiors. You can't just barge into my son's life and take over."
"Then you'll need this, Mr. Bell." Parker walked over to the counter, fishing a card out of the wallet he'd left sitting up there. When he handed it over to my dad, he pointed to a name and a number on the card. "This is my boss, Kinsey Walt. He's who you'll need to speak to."
My father's stare was angry, but my mother's was lethal as they stormed out of the house, my father already digging his cell phone out of his pocket.
"I think they like me," Parker said, smiling as he turned to look at me. "I'm great with people."
Sighing, I frowned, moving back to my seat. "Are you thinking they had anything to do with my disappearance?"
"No," Parker said quietly but confidently. "My gut tells me the only thing they're really guilty of is being shitty parents that care too much what other people think of them and their son's life." Cringing as he lowered himself into the chair across from mine, he said, "Uh. No offense."
"You know, saying 'no offense' doesn't actually keep people from being offended, right?" I asked, smirking when he wrinkled his nose in an adorable way.
"Yeah. But it does let you know that offending you wasn't my purpose."
We ate in silence. I couldn't help but steal glances at him, wondering if I had imagined the almost-kiss before my mother had interrupted us. Did he feel the same pull I did? Or was he just a naturally friendly person, and because I was attracted to him, I was reading a lot more into a situation than was actually there?
He'd ditched his apron before he sat down, leaving him sitting at my table in nothing more than his underwear.
For a while, it was the perfect thing to keep me distracted from the fact that my parents hadn't cared that I was missing, or even worried about me at all. They had cared what my sudden departure for five days would do to my position on the team and how that would reflect on them.
Parker was right, they had always loved the attention that came from having a football player as a son. In fact, I didn’t think my dad had fully forgiven me for not being good enough to get on the team of a bigger school.
Suddenly not very hungry, I stood and took my plate to the sink. "I think I'm going to go for a run," I said sadly, scraping my food into the garbage disposal.
"Okay, I'll get dressed and go with you," Parker said from right beside me, making me jump.
"You don't have to." But oddly, I really wanted him to.
"I could use a run," he said, patting his flat, sexy stomach. "Not to mention I don't want anyone jumping out of a bush somewhere and stealing you."
Chapter Three
My mate was fucking magnificent. Just watching him as he ran slightly in front of me down the well-used path was causing things to happen that didn’t need to happen in athletic shorts.
I’d managed to hide an erection all day with that damn apron, because I was pretty sure he wasn’t ready for all that business yet, but I didn’t have an apron now and these shorts or even the underwear beneath them just wasn’t up for the job.
We’d both opted not to wear shirts. Even though it was September, it was still fairly warm in Kansas, and running always made me hot. But watching my mate’s muscles flex and release as he ran in front of me and the sweat glistening off his skin made me think maybe I had messed up by volunteering to tag along. Sure, I’d still have been watching from a close distance, but at least then he wouldn’t have been able to turn around and see the wood I’d sprung from watching his beautiful body.
We’d been so close to kissing earlier. At least, I thought we had. Before we’d been interrupted by his asshole parents. I wanted to be excited. That was one step closer to claiming him. But I still didn’t have any idea where his head was. And after meeting his parents, I was starting to see why he might be so scared to be himself.
Even thinking about having to come out to those two made me shudder.
I absolutely hated that Silver had to deal with them on a regular basis.
Again, I had to admire my mate’s physical condition. We’d already run five miles and he looked like he could go ano
ther five. Normally, any and all running I did would be in my wolverine form. But I actually enjoyed running with my mate.
Turning down a path most humans would choose to avoid, my mate led me to an area next to a beautiful stream, where he leaned against a giant rock and took a couple swigs from his water bottle.
Hoping he wouldn’t look down at my crotch, I accepted gratefully when he passed the bottle to me and gulped some down before handing it back and looking around at the place he’d brought us to.
"This is really pretty."
He nodded, leaning back over the rock in a way that displayed his gorgeous body and made me think naughty, naughty thoughts that I wasn’t completely sure my mate was ready for.
"And peaceful," he said on a groan.
Biting my lip, I reached down and pressed a hand to my dick, hoping his eyes didn’t pop open and catch me. I watched a bead of sweat slide down the center of his chest as he reclined back against the boulder. It skirted his bellybutton and clung to the ridge of his deeply grooved V before soaking into the already wet material of his shorts.
My hand spasmed on my dick as I imagined following the salty line it no doubt left behind with my tongue.
Moaning, I dropped my hand, quickly moving to the stream. Crouching down, I scooped up a couple handfuls of water and splashed my face, hoping the chilled liquid would cool my lust, but aside from dipping my dick in, I honestly wasn’t sure what could calm my raging need besides my mate.
I knew Silver had moved away from the rock before he walked up beside me and squatted down, bumping my shoulder slightly with his.
"I found this place a couple days after I moved into my house." He eased down to a sitting position, stopping to take off his shoes and socks and setting them aside before putting his feet in the water. "At first, I was a little nervous to follow the path because it was obvious nobody had been down it in a while, but I was having a shitty day and was honestly feeling a little reckless. I’m glad I decided to take the chance. It’s a great place to skip off to when I’m sick of all the shit."
Dropping to my ass, I turned to look at him, not liking the frown on his handsome face. "Can I ask you a question?" I, too, removed my socks and shoes, dunking my feet into the water.