by Jo Raven
“And I honestly wasn't sure you weren't going to fire me,” I counter, lightly closing the door behind myself. I can't help but wonder if anyone has ever walked by the massage room and seen him naked. I'm always so careful to make sure no one is around when I enter.
I also wonder if he would actually care. Probably not. The man is proud of his body, and he has every right to be. Besides, he owns the company, so who is going to say anything to him about it?
“Why would I fire you?” He crosses his arms over his chest, sounding offended.
“I don't know.” Is finding out that the girl you've been sleeping with used to fuck your best friend a good reason to fire her? Maybe the fact that I didn't stay the night with him is enough to merit him handing me a pink slip. So much has gone wrong. I'm honestly more curious about why he hasn't fired me, but I don't want to ask. I need this job. “Why would you think I wouldn't show up to work?”
“Because you bailed on me at the party.” The memory clearly makes him unhappy.
“Things were getting awkward.” I shrug.
“I don't want a massage today. I want to talk.” It's obviously not optional.
My body tenses as he pulls himself up on the massage table. It feels like I should be taking a seat too, but there is no place for me aside from the chair where his suit is lying neatly folded, and I'm not about to move it just for my comfort.
“What do you want to talk about?” I lean against the door, hugging myself protectively.
“I want to talk about our mutual friend.” The slow way he says it is strange. I can't tell if he's amused or being sarcastic.
“What about him?” Asher is the last person I want to discuss right now. I had honestly hoped Parker would have the consideration not to bring him up again. I have no such luck though.
“He told me everything.”
Everything? I can't help but wonder what Asher’s version of everything is. “He's in my past.”
“He doesn't want to be in your past.” The fact that Asher disclosed something so intimate to Parker surprises me. If they talked about what happened in San Francisco, then Parker must know why things ended between us.
“That's too bad for him.” I dig my nails into my sides to distract myself from the intensity of the conversation. Does this really matter to Parker so much or is he just trying to torture me?
“You still feel for him. I saw it in your eyes when we were there at the party.”
“All I felt from seeing him was regret.” It's true. I wasted so much time on that man, let him wrap me up in the fantasy that I was his one and only.
“Tell me you don't want him anymore.” Parker climbs down from the massage table and approaches me. When he reaches up to caress my cheek, I lean into his touch. This is exactly what I need, to see how much he still wants me. These tender moments help to mend my aching heart, to make things better.
“I don't want him.” I don't. Maybe there was a glimmer of remembered desire for him when I saw him at the party. But now, all I can think about is Parker. His muscular body is only inches from mine, his delicious cock straining with desire for me. I want nothing more than for him to be inside of me, erasing everything that happened over the weekend.
“Tell me you don't still love him.”
My heart skips a beat at the mention of the word love. There will always be a part of me that loves Asher Shepard, but I'm not in love with him anymore. And maybe eventually, those traces of emotion will leave too. I just don't know.
“He has no place in my life anymore.” It's all I can offer, and I pray that it's good enough.
Parker rests his forehead against mine as he affectionately strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. “I'm sorry I walked away from you at the party. The thought that he's been inside of you before, that he's seen every part of you that I have and more… I just couldn't be around you.”
“I understand,” I reply curtly. He has no reason to apologize. The situation was more awkward than any of us could handle. Dispersing was the best move.
“No. You don't.” He pulls away from me, shaking his head. “The idea that any other man has ever put his hands on your body, that any other man ever will… I don't like to think about it.”
“Then don't think about it.” I take his hand in mine, my heart flooding with warmth. He's being so raw. It's driving my lust for him to a desperate place. My eyes skirt his lips, silently begging for him to kiss me, to claim me as his.
“I don't want anyone to ever touch this body again. Not him. Not anyone.” His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, and I reflexively open my mouth, my eyes growing hooded and wanton. The sexual energy in the room is overwhelming to the point that I can barely hold myself back. My body needs him more than it ever has before.
“Kiss me, Parker.” The words sound far too erotic to belong to me, but they do.
He holds my face in both hands as his mouth hungrily meets mine. Our tongues fight for space as we moan into each other, the passion of the kiss spurring on our heated desire.
His hands roughly move to undress me, and I offer my aid, pulling my blouse over my head while he reaches down to unzip the side of my skirt and let it fall to the floor. The whole while, his lips never leave my body. If I've ever undressed faster, I can't remember a time.
Once my clothes are off, we slide down to the floor together. He takes my nipple between his teeth, biting and tugging on it with overzealous vigor. My hands tangle in his short blond hair, holding him against me while he ravages my chest.
A short whimper escapes my lips from the stinging sensation of the nerve endings being crushed beneath his teeth, and my back arches off the floor in response. “Parker, it's too much.”
“It's not enough.” His mouth trails across to my other breast. This one he's much more gentle with, sucking my swollen peak into his mouth and circling his tongue around it.
I spread my legs as his hand travels down my stomach towards my soft folds. He sweeps his fingertip across them, then probes inside, filling me with two fingers and thumbing my clit until my body gives way to orgasm.
“You're so wet. I've never seen a woman get so wet before,” he breathes against my chest between hurried kisses. “I've got to put my cock inside of you. I've got to spread your pussy and remind you that no one can fill you like I can.” The words are so ripe with arrogance, but there's no denying that what he's saying is true.
“I need it,” I groan shamelessly, bucking against his hand as the last few contractions roll through me. His fingers were intense, but his dick will feel even better. It always does.
“Look at how wanton your body is for me.” He quickly pulls off his boxer briefs and allows his gorgeous cock to spring forward before leaning back on his calves to reach for his blazer and the condom inside. I want to suck him off, but my need to feel him inside of me trumps all other desire. When he tells me to lie down on my side, I'm quick to obey. My body is so needy for him. My clit is already throbbing with anticipation. “You're so fucking hot. I've never seen a more perfect ass in all my life.” He draws back his hand and the crack of his palm across my backside dulls out the classical music for half a second. I groan in approval, pushing my butt towards him to show him I'm ready.
“Put it in me, Parker,” I beg.
Instead of sticking his dick in me though, he spreads my pussy lips with two fingers and plunges his tongue inside. A lusty whimper leaves my throat, way louder than I anticipated, though I entirely blame him. My hand reaches up to cover my mouth and the onslaught of pleasure cries coming out of it as his tongue skillfully laps at my wetness and drives me insane.
I twist around to watch him, placing my hand on his muscular shoulder. He's buried so deep between my legs, spreading them with his strong hands, getting at all my most tender parts. It feels absolutely exquisite, and I know he won't stop until I've come all over his face. He's never satisfied unless I come for him.
Forcing it has never been an issue. He draws my pleasure to the sur
face like one would draw water from a well, and by the time it reaches the top, my body is gifting him with its wetness. I bite my bottom lip as I moan while the orgasm plays through me.
He doesn't even wait til the contractions stop before he's pulling away, giving my ass another slap and lining himself up next to me. I want it so badly I can barely stand it, and he doesn't disappoint. There's a desperation in his eyes that mirrors my own. He's so ready for me.
I press back against him as he guides his swollen tip towards my opening and pushes it inside. My body consumes him, and I feel drunk from the intense pressure of the position. It's so big. So good. “Fuck me, Parker.”
He needs no invitation. I chew on my bottom lip to stifle my groaning as he latches onto my hips and pounds into me, fucking me hard and fast. “I want you to come all over my dick.”
“Yes.” It's all I can manage to get out. There's no question that I'm going to come. He always makes me come. He's relentless with his body.
“Please make me come again.” I know I sound like a horny slut, but I don't care. I'll say whatever it takes to spur him on, and talking dirty definitely spurs him on.
I push back against him as he hammers into me, the friction building to an insurmountable level. His breathing is ragged, his body glistening with sweat. Just watching the determined look on his face as he fucks me is enough to make me plummet over the edge, his name racing from my lips.
“Fuck, you look so hot when you come,” he pants as my body contracts around him. Moments later, he stills. His eyes roll back into his head, and I'm rewarded with the knowledge that he's releasing inside of me.
CHAPTER TEN
“So when is he going to take you out on an actual date?” Yolanda asks me while she dips a fry in ketchup. It's a reasonable question and one I had honestly never considered before. Parker and I see each other so much at work that I haven't really thought about why we don't see each other outside of work.
“I don't know.” I really don't. We've never discussed it before.
“Doesn't it seem a bit odd that you guys fuck everyday, but he hasn't asked you out yet?” She squints across the table at me.
I shift in my chair, understanding what she's getting at. “He did take me as his date to the Christmas party.”
“That's irrelevant.” She waves a fry at me. “You already told me that he takes an employee to the party every year.”
I frown. She's right. Showing up as his date doesn't make me any more special than anyone else he brought before me. “Maybe he just hasn't gotten around to it yet.”
She leans back in her chair, looking at me as if I'm stupid. “You don't know much about Parker Bernier, do you?”
“Well, I didn't watch his damn documentary, if that's what you're getting at.” My anger flares. She's making me feel like a hobag, like he doesn't give a shit about me other than the sex.
“It wasn't a documentary. It was more like a biography.” She tilts her head, not catching on to the fact that she offended me.
“Whatever.” I gesture in annoyance. “Just say what you mean. I'm not in the mood for riddles.”
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” She furrows her brow at me.
“No.” I sigh. “I'm just frustrated is all. I've never really thought about why Parker hasn't asked me out on a date yet. He's always so sweet when we're alone together. And we spend time together every day. I never really thought that dating outside of work was important… until now.”
“It is important.” She nods curtly before grabbing another fry. “It's what separates you from everyone else.”
“Everyone else?” I quirk an eyebrow at her.
“All the other ones he's fucked.” Her words cut a line right through my heart. He's slept with a lot of women. I know this. I've never compared myself to them though.
“He's only fucking me now,” I insist.
“So he says.” The amused tone of her voice doesn't match the seriousness of the discussion. Why is she being such a bitch about this? She knows I care about him.
Oh shit. I care about him. Did I just think that? Blegh. It's true though. I care about Parker Bernier. I'm getting feelings for Parker Bernier, and they go beyond him just being my fuck buddy.
“If he says it, then I believe him.” I do. He hasn't lied to me yet. Why should I let what someone else assumes shake my trust in him?
“All I'm saying is that you shouldn't get too invested in him.” Her eyes fall to the table. I've known her long enough to realize that this is what she does when she's about to tell me something out of concern that she doesn't think I'll like. “Until he takes you out publicly, I wouldn't consider you two having any more of a relationship than what it is now.”
What it is now. I know exactly what she thinks it is now. An inappropriate boss-and-employee relationship. Friends with benefits. Fuck buddies. And to be honest, I'm not even sure what it is anymore. But I need to find out.
***
“Why do you make women massage you naked?” I'm sliding my fingers over his broad, muscular back. Effleurage, the technique is called, though I've only seen it demonstrated. I won't actually start the massage portion of my classes for another week.
“Because I like to look at naked women.” His blunt honesty is a bit unsettling.
“And it's never bothered any of them?” While I can imagine that most women wouldn't mind getting naked for him, being nude everyday for this is a bit uncomfortable.
“I usually use an agency for my massage therapists. If you remember, when you originally showed up, I thought you were from Zenway Massage.” I do remember. How could I ever forget that mixup? “They know me very well over there. Know what I like. What I want.” He's unabashed by his desires. It's as if he thinks that requesting someone to spend an hour a day with him naked is a completely normal thing.
“Do they give happy endings at Zenway too?” I tease, though I wouldn't be surprised if the answer was yes.
“They probably would if I was willing to pay for it.” There's no humor in his voice.
I frown as I imagine the petite girl with the wavy black hair who was originally supposed to massage him leaning over the table servicing him orally. She didn't exactly look like the skanky type, but you should never judge a book by its cover.
“So you're telling me that none of the girls who have ever come to massage you have ever had a problem with it?” I just can't wrap my head around that. Surely, any legitimate massage businesses wouldn't have accepted him as a client if he requested a nude massage therapist.
“I've only ever had two massage therapists before you, Kira. I tend to stick to the same girls.” He seems annoyed by my disbelief.
“Sorry. It's just hard for me to picture someone being okay with it.” I bite my bottom lip in thought.
“You're okay with it,” he counters, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.
“That's because I needed a job. And you're not exactly hard on the eyes.” Yes, that will be my excuse for why I was willing to shed my clothes for him. It totally had nothing to do with that fact that I thought being naked around him would make him fuck me.
“You're going to make me want to fuck you again,” he purrs as he readjusts himself. For a moment, I think he might try to reach out and touch me, but he doesn't.
We already fucked today. As soon as I came into the room, he wrapped me in his arms and ravaged me on the carpet. My thighs are still sore from it. If we're being truthful, I'm the one who needs a massage, not him. But he said he wanted to see what I've learned so far.
“So you've never had a company-staffed massage therapist before?” I try to steer his mind away from sex. While I wouldn't mind having it again, I do enjoy talking to him, and the only time we seem to talk is when we're not tangled together in heated desire.
“No. You're the first.”
“So you've never paid to send anyone to school before?” It's a redundant question. The answer is obviously no. I'm just tr
ying to figure out why I was such a special case.
“No.”
My voice grows small and timid as I ask the next question. “Why are you doing this for me?”
“Can you move down to my right calf?” He nods towards his right side. “I've had a persistent cramp off and on all day long. I think I pulled it at the gym last night.”
Obediently, I traverse the length of his body to begin working on the back of his leg. “I mean, had you been wanting to hire on a massage therapist with the company?” I'm not letting this go. I want answers.
“No,” he admits shortly.
“Then why hire me?” I press my palms into the thick muscle of his calf. It's unexpectedly tight, and he groans as my body weight spreads the tissue.
“That's good.” He points his toes as I press down into him. For a moment, I think he's going to divert from the question, but then he continues, “The answer is simple. I wanted to see you again.”
My cheeks flush at the sweet confession. “If you wanted to see me again, you could have just hired me on as the receptionist.”
“I wanted to see you naked,” he clarifies, and I can only imagine the lecherous grin on his face. I can hear it skirting his voice. He doesn't care how perverted it makes him sound.
“You're insatiable,” I giggle.
“I've been called worse.” He puts his hands on the sides of the table and begins to sit up. I haven't even switched to the other leg yet. My eyes flit to the clock on the wall. We have about seven minutes left. The smile is still on his face as he turns his body around so that he's facing me. “So, how about a happy ending?”
***
“I feel like I never see you anymore.” Yolanda pouts at me from across the table. It's true. Now that I've started school, our little get-togethers have dwindled down to weekends only. I'm too exhausted from work and sex and school to see her during the few brief hours I have before bed on the weekdays.