Romance: The Playboy (The Hot Aussie Heroes series Book 3)

by Madeline Ash

  It wasn’t until they were sagging in a booth, eating Lullabar pizzas that he said, “You’ll sleep well tonight,” and she realised what he’d done.

  She stared through sleepy eyes. “You didn’t.”

  He raised a brow, mouth full and chewing.

  “You’ve tired me out on purpose.”

  He swallowed and grabbed a few chips, saying nothing.

  Quiet with confused indignation, she asked, “Why not tonight? I thought we were done with the frustration thing.”

  “We are.”

  “Am I not confident enough?”

  “You are.”

  “Then what?”

  Parker drank from his beer. His voice was low when he answered. “We both know it’s going to happen. But it should be a moment we can’t deny. Spontaneous. Not something you’re ticking off a list.”

  Alexia picked at the chips. She’d come to Byron with sex as a goal – and she’d baulked at such regimented expectation. Grudgingly, she accepted his aversion, because technically, she shared it. “Does that mean we can’t hang out tonight?”

  He looked at her, surprised but warm. “No.”

  Weariness had the back of her head pressing into the booth cushion. “I feel like collapsing into bed and zoning out in front of a movie. Want to collapse with me?”

  “You’ve collapsed already.”

  “Give me thirty minutes and I’ll conquer the stairs.”

  He gave her none and carried her to her room.

  They watched an indie film that Dee had written on Alexia’s laptop. Parker lay on his back, head propped up by her pillow, and Alexia curled up with her cheek on his chest. He snickered and laughed through the first hour and fifteen minutes – then when shit got real, he grew still and silent. She kept her ear pressed to him, listening to his heartbeat as the tragedy unfolded; tears in her eyes as the ending broke her heart for a third time. When the credits came up, she let them roll.

  “I didn’t predict that.” Parker’s murmur was accompanied by a sniff. She dried her own eyes on his shirt, exhaustion now joined by the fragility of loss. The characters had lost everything because they’d lost each other; alone, they’d broken into shards of their true selves. Emotional, Alexia inched closer to Parker, circling her arms around his waist and pushing her cheek harder against his stomach.

  His fingers slid into her hair. “Why’d you watch it if it makes you sad?”

  She closed her eyes as his fingertips massaged her scalp. “Because it’s good.”

  “But you know the ending is coming.”

  “Yet still I laugh.”

  His inhale was big, lifting her high as his ribs expanded. Then she fell with him and his fingers stopped. She turned her head, looking up his chest to meet his silent gaze.

  It was the look he used to give her. Intense and a little out of his depth, as if his exhale had granted space for awareness of someone other than himself. Slowly, holding her eyes, he breathed in and she knew he filled his lungs with her.

  She moved, body heavy and tired, an unhurried wriggle upwards. Patient, he waited, watching her languorous journey from his place among the pillows. His eyes darkened when his shirt rose with her and the hot skin of their stomachs met. Darkened further when her palms rubbed up his sides, curling over his shoulders and using her hold to pull herself up in the world’s slowest single-direction grind. Impatient at last, he grabbed her hips, dragging her high and capturing her mouth. Salty and greedy, his kiss set lust loose inside her.

  Even as she kissed him back, Alexia knew their end was coming. Even as his hand pressed down her stomach and beneath her bikini briefs, she knew she would fly back to LA and he wouldn’t ask her to stay. And even as he touched her, fingers pushing within, she knew it would break her heart.

  She knew all of that, yet still she called his name.

  Chapter Nine

  ‡

  Saturday, Alexia awoke to parted curtains, blinding sunlight, and a sticky breeze. A text message had woken her – Dee asking if the Princess was ill or just angling for breakfast in bed. Alexia frowned, groggy, and then saw that it was late morning.

  “Blurg,” she texted back. “I’ll be down soon.”

  She staggered into the shower, blaming Parker for her sleep-in. She’d hardly slept. Restless and frustrated, she’d suffered the night alone while he’d worked late on last-minute preparations for the surfing fundraiser. She understood that he was a busy man. She’d been taking up a lot of his spare time. She knew charity was important to him.

  But she wasn’t stupid. He’d found a way to postpone sex yet another night.

  Cool water sprayed straight onto her face.

  Parker was interested in her and didn’t have an aversion to sex. But two plus two had equalled foreplay and nothing more, so she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. Spontaneity didn’t explain it. They’d had opportunities for that – missed opportunities. He was deliberately avoiding it, but why? What did he think would happen if they slept together?

  Unless the question wasn’t if, but after. After they slept together… she’d have a better understanding of sex. She’d be able to draw off the experience for her audition. She’d leave him.

  Uneasy, she turned the tap to cold water only. If that was Parker’s reasoning, she was in serious trouble.

  Ten minutes later, she had dressed and found Dee chatting with Josh behind the bar.

  “Morning,” she said, glancing around the venue. Red and blue balloons, colours of the charity, were clustered in threes and stuck to booth edges and table legs. Posters were pinned to the walls and stacks of promotional flyers sat on table tops. The nearest poster read: ‘Funds raised today are used to support the Royal Flying Doctor Service, saving lives in rural and regional Australia.’

  Her mood faltered. Parker’s mother had died because the service had been stretched to its limits and hadn’t reached her in time. And instead of resenting the organisation, blaming it, Parker was raising funds so no one else would lose a loved one for the same reason. She stared at the poster, humbled by his humanity.

  Josh spoke into her thoughts. “Big day today.”

  She looked over. “Can I help?”

  “If Parks hasn’t given you a job, I’m not going to.” He ran a hand across Dee’s shoulders. “You two should enjoy the competition. I have a bar to run, but the action is outside. Go on.”

  Dee met Alexia’s eyes. “Something does smell amazing out there.”

  Salty, fatty, sweet… everything smelled amazing. “Let’s find it.”

  As they headed for the door, Josh laughed. “Thanks for taking so much convincing!”

  With a promising surf forecast, Parker had organised the partial closure of Main Beach. Alexia hadn’t previously realised the extent of his authority within the town – a beach closure was a big deal. A crowd had already formed on the grass and sand, while others wandered among the tents and food vans that lined the main street. The area was decorated in blues and reds, and a banner with the charity’s logo was strung high above the judging panel. A DJ played on the beach, speakers pumping party beats, and a group with bongo drums played along with a reggae cover. A surf lifesaving crew stood by in yellow and red, relaxed with binoculars in hand. Lullabyron clothing and surf-wear was for sale in one of the tents, all proceeds going to the Royal Flying Doctor Service. Dee bought a singlet as a souvenir. Alexia bought a T-shirt because she predicted sleepless nights back in LA with it clutched to her chest.

  The air was rich with the smells of cooking. Baked potatoes, Mexican fries and tacos, Indian curries and samosas, buttery corn on the cob, and lentil-filled rotis. After fifteen minutes of vacillating because they wanted everything but only had a pitiful four hands between them, Alexia and Dee ended up under a beach umbrella with two maple waffles, a plate loaded with poffertjes, and two cups of fresh orange juice.

  Dee relaxed back onto her palms, sighing. “I’m so full I could sleep.”

  Alexia skewered sever
al mini pikelets onto a wooden fork. “I want a second stomach.”

  “Ooh, here, take mine.” Her friend grabbed at her soft belly.

  Alexia elbowed her. “Your sexy curves? I wouldn’t dare.” Then her insides flipped as she spotted Parker talking to the lifeguards. Casual and gorgeous in a navy tee and shorts. Blond hair tucked beneath a cap. As he turned away, he scanned the crowd and she raised a hand, hoping he wasn’t too distracted to care.

  He met her eyes, and for a moment, just looked at her. Then a grin flashed across his face and he blew her a kiss – a cocky bunching of his lips that set her pulse racing. Heads turned, curious, as he mouthed, “Wait for me?”

  She nodded and with a gesture from Parker, the competition began.

  She watched him all afternoon. Yes, the competition was elite. She paid healthily each time a donation tin was brought around. But he captivated her. He moved constantly, body language betraying his familiarity with most people and openness with the rest. They smiled, shook his hand, and looked after him when he moved on. A few of the older locals hugged him, a tight embrace that spoke of sadness, and Alexia suspected they were also remembering the tragedy of Mrs. Hargraves’ death.

  By late afternoon, even the most optimistic recess of her mind couldn’t deny that Parker belonged in Byron. It was irrelevant that LA had good surf breaks. His business was here, his community, his life. Some people could live anywhere, provided they were doing what they loved or with someone they loved. Other people belonged to a place so fiercely that their soul dimmed elsewhere. Parker belonged to Byron Bay, where the life of the town and the rhythm of this sea beat strong inside him.

  She had no more right to suggest he live in LA than he to suggest she give up acting.

  “I should have been timing this.” Dee startled her from her thoughts. “You haven’t blinked in almost three hours. I suspect a record.”

  Alexia looked at her, wincing. “I’ve been ignoring you.”

  “I don’t care.” She was lying on her tummy, hands propping up her chin. “What I care about is the look on your face.”

  “Glazed?”

  “Despondent.”

  Ah. “It’ll fade.”

  “It is Parker related?”

  “Yeah.”

  Dee shifted onto her side, facing her. Her expression was stern. “You’re going to have to open yourself up to a relationship sometime, Alexia. Falling in love doesn’t have to end badly.”

  “This is his home.” She shook her head, dejection pressing at her throat. “This place, with an abundance of surf and tourism and a distinct lack of blockbuster opportunities.”

  Dee considered that and her expression softened. “I propose an ice cream and chick flick night when we get home. Lots of chocolate and slow motion shots of Channing Tatum’s abs.”

  She made herself smile. “Proposal accepted.”

  The sound of applause rose around them, heralding the end of the competition, and Alexia joined in, spotting the winner holding a trophy as the competitors all shook hands. Most of the crowd now wore the Lullabyron brand, hats, shirts, shorts, and flip-flops, all in this season’s colour range. A fundraising and marketing success.

  Dee stood. “I might go see Josh.”

  Alexia nodded. “I’ll wait for Parker.”

  She waited under the shade of the umbrella as he spoke to the competitors and judges, the surf lifesavers, and the DJ. She waited as the crowd thinned, many making their way to Lullabar for an after party that would see all money spent on drinks going to the charity. Then she approached the woman who had let her into Parker’s office – Lori, she found out – and asked if she could help. So Alexia dismantled the surf lifesaving tent with a few others, bundling poles and tarp, and carrying it to the clubhouse. Back under the umbrella, she waited as the shadows grew long and Parker remained on-the-move, talking, packing up, and overseeing the wind down of a massive town event.

  “You waited.”

  Alexia jumped, looking up from her poor attempt at a sandcastle. Parker stood beside her, one hand holding his cap and the other tousling his hair. “Of course.”

  He held out his hand. “I said I’d meet the guys at the bar. But I have to get something from home first.”

  She let him help her up. “Okay.”

  He didn’t release her fingers. “Come with me?”

  “Okay.”

  They took the sandy route. It wasn’t a short walk, following the water around the lighthouse and along Tallow Beach, but the breeze was cool under a lavender sky and he was finally by her side. He didn’t release her hand, even when he edged their path towards the waves, letting the water refresh them after a day in the summer heat.

  Still dripping, he led her up the sand and along a private track. Not towards the property from his childhood, but impressive nonetheless, Alexia realised, glimpsing the structure through the trees, all two storeys of timbre-walled luxury home.

  “Home sweet home,” Parker said, pulling out in front. He hung his hat off a tree branch as he passed and then stripped his shirt over his head. That he tossed over the bannister of the outdoor staircase leading up to the deck. Alexia heated.

  She crested the steps, setting her own hat over the bannister post, and followed him inside. The home was smaller than she’d first thought, a tall yet narrow structure, with a sleek kitchen on the left, a dining table for eight on her right, and a lounge that would comfortably fit the same further in. An unlit hall disappeared from the lounge room and the thought of Parker’s bedroom beckoned like a sly finger.

  “So what is it we’re getting?” she asked, sliding her hands into the back pockets of her shorts. Her fingers closed over the packet she’d stowed there this morning, just in case.

  Parker kicked off his thongs and faced her with a grin of pure devilry.

  “Privacy.”

  *

  Parker closed in and Alexia kept him there. He devoured the sugar on her lips as he dealt with the buttons on her shorts. They didn’t speak. Both knew this was it. Her smell invaded him, her touch enslaved him. Her hands gripped his hair, holding his mouth captive as he stripped her legs bare, underwear and all, and lifted her to his waist. She wrapped her legs tight and heat consumed him, heavy and slick like the seawater on his skin.

  Bed. The thought was desperate, half-mad. Now.

  He made it to the dim hallway before she peeled off her singlet. Reflex had him backing her against the wall, his palms on her waist, her stomach, making quick work of her bikini top until she was entirely bare, long hair tickling his chest as she kissed his neck, taking skin between her teeth and wreaking torture with her tongue.

  Parker groaned and her head snapped up, dark eyes intense. “That’s good?”

  He smiled on an exhale. “Yeah.”

  “What else?”

  He tilted his head, exposing the back of his ear. She snared the skin and he groaned again. Emboldened, she made her way down his neck, rallying needy urges in his blood, all demanding, all shouting for heat and the clench of her body around him. Bed, he recalled a moment before she rolled her hips and a current shot from his groin, hot and fierce. Curse his upstairs bedroom. Too far, way too far. The couch would do… soon. He closed his hands over her breasts, the pads of his thumbs rasping over hard nipples. She gasped and bent into him.

  Then her fingers found his waistband, freeing him as his shorts fell, and hot slick skin met its match. Arousal hammered at his erection, a tortured beat. Crazed, he battled instinct. Resisted the single stroke that would bury him inside her. Protection. God, he needed –

  Alexia pressed a packet into his hand.

  That was all he needed.

  He sheathed himself, greedy from days, weeks, of craving this woman. For her body and touch, as much as her smart mouth and smile. Her breasts brushed his chest, back arching as he positioned himself.

  Gentle and easy. The warnings were firm, a finger poked in his chest. Go easy.

  Then she descended and he knew control
wasn’t within his grasp. Closing his eyes, he surrendered it and the warnings fell silent.

  She took her time. Slow and sensual as she learned his size, glides growing longer, deeper, and with them, moans that drove him out of his mind.

  Her rhythm changed, breath hitching. Parker sank to his knees. Spread them for balance and thrust faster, swallowing her moans, storing them, loving them.

  Loving her.

  Warnings rushed back, an onslaught that had his hold tightening, locking her against him as she gripped his shoulders. Don’t let her leave. Don’t lose her. The first woman he’d loved; who made him feel worthwhile. She knew who he’d been and who he was and still gave herself to him. There wouldn’t be another, not like this. Don’t ever let her go.

  “Parker,” she gasped, and contracted around him, hauling him into an orgasm that tore his heart open, and when she collapsed over him and he sank to his heels, he gathered her close, face pressed to her shoulder, not letting her go, but fearing he would because she’d asked him to, and he’d do anything for this woman, sacrifice anything, including her.

  Chapter Ten

  ‡

  When Alexia eventually raised her face from the curve of Parker’s neck, it was to meet a pair of yellow eyes in the dull light behind him. Startled, she straightened – as well as one could while melded to a naked man – and stared back.

  Parker’s hand grazed her spine. “You okay?”

  “When you said privacy,” she murmured, “I made the mistake of assuming we’d be alone.”

  He met her gaze with an arched brow. “We are alone.”

  She paused. “Great. No one told me losing my virginity would mean seeing ghost cats.”

  Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder. “Oh. That’s Snark. She and I coexist.”

  The white and distinctly unimpressed cat continued to stare. “You called her Snark?”