by Gina Watson
She giggled and sat on the edge of the bed, facing the television.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” Parker asked. The cabinet squeaked open and then he searched through his collection of movies. “I don’t know if I have anything in here a girl would like, unless you like action or porn.”
Hmm, she could go for some porn. “Porn?” She asked with a lilt in her voice.
“Wow, I’m like the luckiest man alive.” He carried several selections to the bed.
“But first I think we should talk about each other’s expectations.”
He looked up from sorting the movies. “Do we have to?”
“Parker, just tell me what you want out of this?”
He knelt in front of her taking her hands in his. “I want you healthy and happy so we can live our lives together. I don’t care about anything else. I only want to focus on obtaining that.” His face held a sincerity she hadn’t seen before. His gray eyes pleading. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“I know I want to be with you as long as I can. I also don’t care about anything else.”
“Well,”—he shrugged—“That was the easiest girly talk I’ve ever had.”
“I’m not girly.”
“Oh trust me, I’ve been all up in this”—his fingers traced between her legs—“You’re girly all right.” His eyes sparkled—gray with shiny silver-blue flecks.
“What if our life together only lasts a few months or weeks? Would you regret going to such great lengths to attempt to keep me alive?”
“God, Bailey.” He choked and stood, pulling her back with him on the bed. They each laid on their sides, staring into one another’s eyes. “Of course I’ve thought about that. I can’t stop thinking about it.” His lashes were wet from tears. “I don’t know what to say here. I guess the way I see it, I would rather have one moment with you than a lifetime without you, so any little bit of time I get to spend with you I’ll cherish.”
“Parker”—she whispered—“I’m sorry.”
He held her tight. “I’m not.”
She was definitely crying now, which she hated. The last thing she wanted was for him to remember her with a red nose and swollen eyes. “Do you think the possibility of my death”—she swallowed thickly—“makes this all the more exciting and maybe it’s adding something to us that isn’t there?”
Parker went up on his knees to straddle her. Warm, lemon-scented hands cradled her head as his thumbs caressed her jaw. “I don’t know what’s causing me to feel like I need you to survive, but I know that when I strip everything away—things like our working together, your illness, Maura, Julian, Alan, my dad, your dialysis, almost losing you on the boat—when I peel those layers away from our story the only thing left that I see is you. Your orange red hair, your freckles, the way you attack life, the fire in your eyes. It’s there when I sleep, in my dreams, when I close my eyes, conscious, unconscious, you’re everywhere. So no, I don’t think it has anything to do with the excitement of losing you. God, I’d die too.”
The last part of what he said was whispered as tears streamed down his face and onto her neck. “Parker.” Her hand went to his cheek to caress it as he still straddled her. “I’m sorry, but that question has been eating away at me. Thank you for answering it so beautifully.”
He frowned and dismounted, lying flat on his back beside her. He sighed. “I wasn’t trying to be beautiful. I was just telling you how I feel—straight from the heart. I’ve turned into a pussy.”
She couldn’t help but giggle as she leaned onto her side and wiped his tears with the pad of her thumb. “And what’s in your heart is beautiful.”
She kissed where her thumbs had wiped. “And now I need you to make me feel beautiful, not sick, not terminal. I want to feel desired and dirty.” She nipped the corner of his mouth hard with her teeth just so he’d know she meant what she said.
His hand immediately went up to caress where she’d bit him. A look of disbelief on his face. “Fuck Bails.”
“Yes, fuck Bails.”
In one swift move he rolled her beneath him and pinned her to the mattress. “You’re going to pay for that.” Warm soft lips took hers with a fierceness that related need and intensity, and her nipples hardened.
Deeply engaged in the kiss, Parker slid his knee beween her legs as the blu-rays tumbled to the floor. He severed their kiss and she asked, “Are we going to watch porn?”
“I don’t need porn when I’ve got you in my bed.” His head went down to her chest and sharp pain radiated through her body causing her to cry out in a pain-pleasure combination. She realized he’d bitten a hardened nipple through the cloth of her clothing.
The twinkle in his eye and look of deviousness on his face made her sex ache. “So, nipple rings. Tomorrow we go get ‘em. I know just the place.” He smirked and slid down the strap of her tank top. His bite was just as punishing on her bare nipple and she screamed. Parker’s hand immediately covered her mouth and she bit down hard into the fleshy part of his fingers.
“Fuck!”
She was flipped onto her stomach, her head swimming in disorientation as he pulled her arms behind and used her shirt to secure her, rendering any escape attempt useless. As she struggled, the knots at her wrists became tighter. She groaned and he answered with a harsh whisper in her ear, “If you want to be let loose, just say the words.” He straddled her hips, his hands moving to gently wrap around her neck, lifting her head. “However, if you do express an interest to stop, you should know that I won’t ever be rough with you again. If you like it, continue to groan and struggle. You can even scream if you want to, and I for one intend on making a lot of noise. Words of wisdom—the vastness of the house absorbs a lot of the noise, but some of it does escape so scream at will.”
Hands surrounded her belly and she thought he was moving down between her legs, but he stopped at the button on her shorts, and then he slid them off with her underwear. Slowly, so slowly, down her lower back, over her butt, her thighs. “Ouch!” His teeth sank into the flesh of her backside—the satisfied moans he made set her already overly aroused body vibrating.
She heard the clanging of his belt, then his zipper, then he pulled her back by her hips until she was on her knees. His fingers parted her wet flesh. “Hmm, I can feel how much you like it rough.” Raspy whispered words took her to a place where gravity was an afterthought and she drifted from one sensation to the next. Hot, hard cock replaced his fingers as he coated himself with her silkiness. He entered her, pushing against her swollen wet flesh like a wrecking beam. One solid thrust and she floated, impossibly full of Parker David and God bless him he knew she needed to be held in that one spot for a good long time.
Buried to his balls, he massaged her as she squeezed around him. His heavy breathing in her ear, along with the wet of his tongue tip, sent an overload of tingling sensation coursing through her. His hands were everywhere. A man’s hands, calloused and large, warm and rough. They skimmed her bare arms, her sides, the outer swell of her breast. Gently he roamed using the pads of his fingers to bring her entire body alive. When his hands suddenly gripped her shoulders in a fierce grip, she felt him shift inside of her. He pulled out to the tip and then slammed back into her. As his pace increased, his hands closed tighter around her shoulders. A fast, brutal, punishing rhythm created a sound all its own—wet skin slapping and popping. He maintained long even strokes, missing no beats, as if he were driving an Italian sports car around a racetrack.
His pace slowed as he moved behind her. His palm slapped her ass repeatedly. “You like it rough, hard, and thick. Fucking amazing.” She’d never heard his voice so raspy and deep. The blows he gave were hard and stung at first until deepening into a nice warm burn. So many sensations at once left her breathless … and then he stopped and pulled out. But it was only a momentary break as he pulled at her knotted clothes and they fell away. He kissed her shoulder and then he flipped her.
Spreading his knees wide he positioned her
legs over each of his hips and pulled her so that her cunt met his cock. Bailey’s head and heels were the only part of her on the bed—his strong body held the rest of her right where he wanted her. He pulled her onto him, his cock gliding smoothly through her wet and highly charged pussy. Her neck bowed as she lifted herself for him.
“God, so tight and so hot. I belong right here, Bails.” She replied with an incoherent sound that emerged from deep in her throat. “Pulse up and down on my cock. Use your heels.” His hands on her hips guided her back and forth and around. In this position he was buried deep inside and the pulses they made massaged her inside and out. Her orgasm came in waves and he massaged her clit with the pad of his thumb to bring her the most spectacular pleasure of her existence—of any existence known to man.
“Parker.” His name swirled in the back of her throat, her voice laced with passion, and then he was right there with her, falling over the edge as she squeezed his seed from him. He growled and gripped her hips tight as he flooded her with come.
“So beautiful.” His words came to her through a cocoon of liquid bliss—his low, deep rumble penetrating her further, deeper. His hand burned as it skimmed across her abdomen. Thick lips followed the path of his hand, kissing her with a feather-light touch.
I had yummy sex with Parker. His house is nice. Julian is mad at Maura. Alan is and asshole. Try not to press buttons in Parker’s truck. Maura’s not alone. I’m not alone. Everett lives in Boston. Parker makes pretty things with his hands. I had yummy sex with Parker.
Chapter 14
The next few days ran together. Bailey and Parker hadn’t made it off the David property. Hell, they’d barely made it out of his room. Parker didn’t mind it so much except that images of rings pierced through perfect nipples seared his brain. It was the night before the big operation day and his entire family rallied around them in the family room. Everett sat broodily in the corner looking pained as he always did when in Baton Rouge.
“I don’t even know why you’re here, Everett. If you hate Louisiana so much, just go back to Boston.” Parker goaded.
His long scowl said he didn’t appreciate being called out. “I’m here for you, not to take in the sights.”
“On second thought, you’re right—I’d miss your ugly mug if you weren’t here.”
The doorbell rang and Everett quickly busied himself with the task of answering the call, flipping Parker the bird on his way out of the room. He still wore remnants of the suit he’d had on earlier: gray slacks, white dress shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows, and expensive Italian leather shoes and belt. Parker couldn’t understand why the man didn’t invest in some leisure attire. Perhaps denim and cotton reminded him too much of his upbringing.
“Hmm, this could be tricky.” Maura’s voice pulled Parker’s attention back to the game of Pictionary going on at the table. A game he was supposed to be playing. He redoubled his focus and got his head back in the game.
Maura held in her hand the card that dictated what she was to draw for Dad.
“Hey, no word clues.” Bailey admonished.
“Exactly how is this could be tricky giving a clue?”
“It suggests the word is a difficult one.”
Maura huffed and rolled her eyes.
Before she could begin her masterpiece, a cute pixie-like girl entered the family room with Everett following at her heels.
“Hey, Maura.”
Maura turned. “Fiona!” She stood and hugged the petite woman who wore a black and white floral print dress with black thigh-high tights. The dress was sleeveless and a shoulder and upper arm was tatted with colorful delicate flowers and butterflies in various shades of blue, purple, pink, yellow, and orange with black and white accents.
“Oh my God, Fiona!” Bailey said with enthusiasm and jumped up to join the hug. “What are you doing here?” Bailey asked, astonished and overjoyed.
“Maura told me about the big upcoming surgery and I told her I’d bring”—she held gift bags out in front of her—“much needed items to get you through your hospital stay.”
“And”—Fiona scanned from Everett to Julian to Parker. “You must be Parker.” She passed him one of the gift bags.
Parker was so taken aback by the generous gesture that all he could offer was a lame, “Thanks.” Parker thought Fiona to be too cute for words. He noticed that Everett seemed to think so as well.
“Fiona, do you work with Maura?” Mom asked while Julian and Everett observed quietly from the fireplace.
“Yes, ma’am. I teach Western Urbanism in Art History.”
“Yes she does, and her classes fill up fast. Students that are wait-listed camp outside her office bearing bribes of various value and begging for admittance.”
“Ah, the perks of teaching college. Sounds like you’re a great professor,” Dad said.
Fiona smiled at Dad. “I would accommodate all of them if I could. It’s exciting that so many can be interested in something I enjoy.”
“So, what’s in the bag?” Bailey asked.
“There’s lotion, lip balm, magazines, mints, chocolate, and a few paperbacks. Oh and I saved up two-weeks worth of New York Times crosswords—made them into a little book.”
Bailey dug through the bag and unearthed the homemade book. Each page was decorated with colored pencil drawings of geometric shapes, flowers, a few hummingbirds, and at the bottom of each page was a poem Fiona had written. “It’s beautiful.”
Everett stood over Bailey’s shoulder avidly inspecting the book.
“We’re playing Pictionary. Play with us. You can be Everett’s partner.” Bailey said.
Ari breezed into the room. “Daddy, I need fifty dollars.”
“Fifty dollars!” He exclaimed all the while fishing out his wallet. That girl had him wrapped around her fingers. “What’s going on?”
“Courtney’s taking me to Razz.”
“What’s Razz?” He held the money just out of her reach.
“That new club on Fourth Street.”
“Courtney, get in here.” He bellowed.
All eyes followed Courtney as she breezed into the family room and walked up to Dad. “What?”
“You’re taking my baby girl to a bar?”
“It’s not a bar tonight. It’s college night.”
“College night?”
Dad slowly rose to his feet. “I’ve heard enough, I’ll drive.”
“But Dad, you have to promise to stay in the car,” Ari pleaded.
“I’ll do no such thing. I’ll act like a bouncer. No one will even know I’m your father.”
“Everyone knows who you are.”
He grabbed a ball cap and placed it on his head. “There, no one will even recognize me.”
“Mom, please make him stay here.”
“Listen to your father, Ari.”
Ari grumbled all the way out of the room.
Maura and Bailey’s eyes followed the processional as Parker’s sisters and parents left the room.
“What a wonderful father,” Maura said.
“You can see just how wonderful Ari thinks he is,” Parker replied.
Mom peeked her head back inside the room. “Julian, please take that bacon out of the freezer.”
“Will do, Mom.”
Julian had been extremely distant with Maura and everyone else ever since Alan had crashed the crab dinner that fateful day. Parker knew Maura was distraught over the loss of his company. Maura had tried to explain twice, but Julian wasn’t about to listen to anything she had to say. It had nothing to do with Maura and everything to do with two previous women who had done a number on his heart. Parker wasn’t sure a connection was going to happen for them.
Parker watched as Everett sat next to Fiona and grabbed them each a pad and pencil. “Your art skills will have to be good enough to save us both. Hope you don’t mind if all of my drawings are in stick-figure form.”
“Not at all. In fact, stick-figure art is making a comeback. I hear
it’s all the rage these days.”
Observing their interaction, Bailey bounded over between the couple. “Fiona owns a tattoo parlor.”
Everett cocked a brow. “You’re just full of surprises.” Parker watched as Everett’s gaze took in the exquisite artwork on Fiona’s arm and shoulder.
“Julian, you can be Maura’s partner.” Julian frowned.
“That’s okay, Bails. I’ll just keep score.”
“No, I want to play. Three teams. Julian?”
With a slightly annoyed look on his face that only those closest to him could probably decipher, Julian took the chair next to Maura.
Two hours passed and they became sillier as the night wore on.
“What were you trying to draw?” Julian pointed to Maura’s drawing.
“The answer was soap dish.” Maura pointed to a picture she had drawn that looked much like an apple. “This is a loofa.”
“Soap dish? First of all, you draw bubbles. Then you draw a bar of soap.” Julian illustrated as he spoke. “I don’t know what this is.”
“I keep a loofa in my soap dish.”
“That’s abnormal. You’d make a good partner for Everett.”
“I’d like to point out, brother mine, that Fiona and I are winning the game.”
Julian frowned at Maura. “This is not your game.”
Maura’s face turned red.
“Julian hates to lose. He never could handle it, even in school,” Parker said. “He also cheats so you’ve gotta watch him.”
“How can you cheat at Pictionary?”
“If there’s a way, you’ll definitely find it.”
“I don’t cheat. It’s called strategizing.” Julian stood with force, knocking his chair over in the process. I’m going to bed. What time are you leaving for the hospital?”
“Eight-thirty.”
Julian shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stormed out in a huff. All the eyes at the table followed him out and then settled on Maura who was turning a deep shade of red.