Denying Mr. Parks (The Parks #1)

by Lilly James

“I am a man of control, Evelyn. If I don’t use control or discipline, I simply will not get things done. My way.”

  I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “And you love everything your way?”

  “Only my way,” he answered slowly as he looked lustful down the length of my body.

  “I knew you were a control freak.” I pointed out, proud of my admission.

  “That’s what you think of me?” He was playing that time, back to casually leaning against the desk, ankles crossed and hands pocketed.

  “Yes, and you’re also egotistic, arrogant, and narcissistic.”

  He was tapping his fingers in his pockets whilst I pointed out the words—words that he was not at all offended by. “I prefer self-controlled and obedient. Do you want me to tell you what I think of you?”

  I groaned inwardly, knowing where this was going. “No, but you’re going to.”

  “You’re beautiful.” I scoffed at that, but he continued. “Independent. Strong-minded, maybe a little misunderstood. A complex introvert.” He ran his index finger across his bottom lip, deep in thought. “You are going to be very difficult for me.”

  Taking a deep breath after his admissions, I tried to make myself clear. “I am not going to be anything for you.” Why wasn’t he getting it?

  He removed his hands from his pockets and began to take his dark blue tie from around his neck. When he was tie-less, he deftly undid the first two buttons of his shirt. I watched his hands whilst he worked slowly, stupidly wishing they were working on me instead. He spotted me watching, and a conceited smirk broke against his lips.

  “You like what you see more than you think, huh?”

  Hating myself for getting caught blushing, I scoffed, “In your dreams, Parks.”

  He crooked his fingers to enhance his next words. “Evelyn, I am dangerously close to bending you over this desk and fucking some discipline into you.”

  The sharp charge that powered up between my thighs made me angry and turned-on. I was pulsing, damp, raging, and wondering what being fucked into discipline was like. But I shook that thought away. I was a strong-minded woman who didn’t take any bullshit. I would never be spoken down to. Never told what to do. And I was not going to start by submitting to some man.

  “You know how dangerously close I am to smacking you one?” I held up my palm when I spoke to show I meant business. He couldn’t speak to me that way. It was completely inappropriate…and damn fucking hot.

  “Smacking me one?” He toyed with my words, speaking with an English accent as he pushed his backside off the desk and walked towards me. “You know you want this, Evelyn.” He sighed wistfully. I tried to take a step back, but the glass doors stopped me with a thump. Fuck. He had me. All I had to do if he got too close was push him off, but he did get too close, and before I knew it, he was standing in front of me, inches away. He brushed his fingertips across my cheek, pushing the hair that fell from my ponytail behind my ear, then swept the back of his fingers down my neck ever so slowly until he got to the top of my breast. His controlled breathing that misted my lips changed pattern as soon as he touched me, and I could smell that watermelon scent I seemed to crave. I watched his gaze drift over the exposed part of my neck, and my breathing was at a standstill. Half because he turned me on immensely, half because I hated myself for giving in.

  But I wasn’t giving in, was I?

  “I want to taste your skin, Evelyn. I want to worship your curves exactly how they should be worshiped. I want to bury myself inside you. The longer you make me wait, the harder I will fuck you. The longer you are beneath me, the more likely your ability to walk the next day will be non-existent.”

  “Then you will be waiting forever, Parks,” I breathed out doubtfully.

  With both hands, he caught my hips aggressively. “It’s Wade.” Then he was pushing his lips into mine, making me gasp against his mouth. He wrapped his hand around my hair and gripped it, holding me in place. I didn’t kiss him back at first, but then my body deceived me and did what I told it not to. I cupped his sculptured face and accepted the primal force of his lapping tongue inside my mouth.

  He consumed me, pinning me in place with an assertive fist around my ponytail, caging my hip with his other hand, holding me exactly where he wanted. Capturing me. Completely taking control.

  He began to roll his hips, pressing every inch of his hardness against my sex. He ardently slid his mouth over my cheeks and aimed for my throat, but I wasn’t going to allow it to continue.

  I came back to life and threw myself away from him, forcing him to stop. My actions were disruptive, and his growl of protest proved it. But I was not about to surrender. Sure he was a man who was never told no, was inherently disciplined, and lived for control, but he wasn’t going to get discipline from me.

  “Fuck.” He aggressively swiped a hand through his dark hair.

  My chest was heaving from my ragged breaths as I pressed my back against the door, trying to regain some air. “Let me out if I’m such an errant.”

  He shoved his hands through his hair, proving he was exasperated. “You are, but I don’t want to let you out. I want to let you in.”

  “Why?” I was clueless. “You only have the urge to get me into your bed, and it’s not going to happen.”

  He moved back around the desk to keep some distance between us, muttering to himself as if he were angry with himself. “I want to get to know you, Evelyn.”

  “No. You want to get to know my body.”

  “And that.” His smirk was completely unapologetic.

  “Why do you want me?” I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

  “I don’t know.” He was as clueless as I was. “Maybe because you intrigue me, Evelyn. You’re extremely beautiful, and I don’t see why you hate me saying that. I can tell how introspective you are, which makes you very hard to read. I can read your body perfectly, but your mind…nothing.”

  My chest rose as I leaned into the door behind me for support. “That’s because I’m a blank book, Parks. There is nothing to read about me.”

  “Don’t say that.” He was being compassionate, but I didn’t need it.

  “It’s true. I am just an average woman amongst a billion others. There is nothing extraordinary about me.”

  After assessing my words, he approached me slowly and cupped my face with both palms. It was an unusually attentive gesture that I neither wanted to accept or refuse. But I accepted it even though I was unsure why. I never accepted warmth from anyone.

  “Everything about you is extraordinary,” he whispered.

  I closed my eyes, blocking out his compassion. “You don’t know me well enough to pass that judgment.”

  “Exactly, and I already regard you highly.”

  I raised my lids after his pronouncement, and our gazes met. The very moment they did, something changed between us. I felt it rapidly and I knew he did too. But it made me uncomfortable, so I acted defensively, because I always did when I was out of my comfort zone. “Well, you shouldn’t.” I knocked his hands away and stepped aside, out of the way of his delectable body. He didn’t follow me. Instead, he was back to being Mr. Authoritative.

  “I hope you know I would never allow anyone to speak to me the way you do.”

  I swung my body around. “Then why are you letting me?”

  “I’m still trying to figure that out.” He sighed harshly. “You can leave now.”

  He slowly opened the door for me to pass. I didn’t give him a backwards glance until he grabbed my shoulder to stop me walking. “Be sure to take the Jaguar home and not the Tube.” Like hell I would. “Oh, and Evelyn? I have places to be for the rest of the week. The next time I see you will be Saturday night. I will have you as my date.”

  “If I go, you’re not having me as your date.”

  His body twitched, and his jaw clenched. “As you wish. I can always take you for myself when I get there.” I stared at him in utter disbelief, then turned away. “And Evelyn?”

&nbs
p; “What?” I spun around, making my hair slap Parks in the shoulder.

  “The Jaguar.”

  Chapter Six

  As soon as I burst through my front door I headed straight for my bedroom in a rage. Once there, I grabbed hold of my swimming bag and slammed my bedroom door on my way back out.

  Passing the kitchen, I happened to glance over and catch the sight of the red wine bottle that had been left on the counter since the previous week. I closed my eyes slowly and repeated what my counsellor told me. “Drink does not erase stress, it adds to it.” But in that moment I couldn’t see past it. I was reeling because of Parks. How dare he act like I was a piece of meat? Like I was just another woman who would fuck him just because I was his next conquest. Never mind all that. He was the CEO of the company I worked for. I could have reported him. Maybe I should have. But on the flip side, he made me feel something. Those feelings were still undiscovered, but feeling anything at all was something I couldn’t let happen. I didn’t have feelings. I wouldn’t allow myself them, so I concealed them. If I had accumulated feelings for Parks, any at all, that would be exceptionally dangerous for me.

  Yes, I definitely needed a glass of wine. Needed it to calm my nerves—nerves from being fearful of emotions creeping in. I stormed over to where the bottle stood and could already see there were no clean glasses. Every single one was waiting to be washed in the sink. Fuck. Steph was a messy bitch as well as the scrap queen. I didn’t have time to clean, so I pushed my frustration to the back of my mind, snatched the wine bottle from the worktop, unplugged the cork, and downed four swigs. Slamming the bottle back down, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and gasped in contentment. Yes. It did make me feel better, even if it wasn’t a lot.

  ***

  An hour later I arrived at the pool in the WParks Hotel where I always went. As Julian worked at the gym, he gave me a free pass to the pool that I could use at any time. He didn’t do it grudgingly, but Steph knew swimming cleared my head, so she kind of talked him into giving me one.

  I changed into my high-waisted swimming shorts, making sure they covered my flat stomach, pulled on a matching bikini top, shoved my hair into a tight bun, and threw all my belongings into a locker. Before jumping into the pool, I double-checked my shorts covered my stomach and dived in. Normally I would’ve warmed up, starting with slow breast strokes, but I went straight in and hard with the crawl and completed forty lengths in record time.

  Swimming cleared my mind, numbed my body, and relaxed me. It was the only thing I found therapeutic after I stopped drinking eight months and three weeks ago. Yes, I counted every measly day of being sober.

  I held on to the side to catch my breath and wiped the water out of my eyes. As my breathing eased, I felt a presence behind me. I quickly turned around but saw nobody. I squinted in confusion. I could have sworn somebody had walked into the pool area. I’d heard the squeak of their shoes on the wet floor. Maybe someone had come in to check out the pool? But it made me feel uneasy for some reason, so I decided to leave.

  After changing, I walked through the luxurious hotel lobby, which was all whites and golds, and found Julian at the desk flirting with the pretty receptionist. I put my head down, picked up my pace, and had almost reached the automatic doors before he spotted me.

  “Nice swim?”

  I turned quickly and spotted Julian jogging towards me in skin-tight shorts and a black T-shirt with WParks Gym printed in white across his chest.

  “Yep,” I answered on a yawn, but something behind him caught my eye: Parks getting into the gold lift with a woman. I squinted to see a little better as my eyes were a bit murky from the water, but I only caught sight of her black, silky hair falling down her back as she laughed at something Parks had said. Then the lift doors shut.

  He had a girlfriend?

  Julian waved a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Evey?”

  I pulled my navy coat around myself, completely ignoring him. If Parks had a girlfriend, then why in the hell was he telling me he wanted me? The cheating, arrogant prick. No, I wasn’t furious with him for having a girlfriend. I was furious that he made a pass at me when he already had one. Fuck. I spun around on my heel and hightailed it through the doors.

  “You want a ride home, Evey?”

  Was Julian still following me?

  “No,” I said, partly coming back to earth. “I’m getting a cab.”

  “Why get a cab when you can have a lift?”

  “Because I don’t want anything from you.” My hidden dislike for Julian and my mood towards Parks enhanced my petulance, but I didn’t apologize, even when he winced a little at my outburst.

  “It’s just a lift.”

  “I said no!” I didn’t like to accept anything from anyone. That way, I didn’t come across as having to rely on somebody, especially Julian, for anything.

  “Jesus.” He held his palms up defensively. “No need to bite my head off.”

  I replied with an eye roll and a huff and flagged down a black cab.

  Chapter Seven

  “Evey!” Steph marched her skinny backside to me as soon as I closed our front door. I frowned as she prodded an accusing finger into my shoulder. “That wine. You drunk it, didn’t you?”

  I walked around her on a groan, dumping my swimming bag onto the kitchen counter. “Steph, I had a swig, no big deal. You’re the bloody one who bought it.” My tone was snappy and irritable.

  She thought for a second. “But I told you I wouldn’t buy the damn stuff if you were going to be tempted by it. You said you had it under control. I can’t keep looking after you, Evey. I can’t keep tabs on you like before. It’s no good for us to live like that.”

  I walked over to her and took firm hold of her shoulders. “Steph, I promise this isn’t like before. I had a swig because I had a rough day at work. I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry.” I dropped my arms to my sides and nodded towards my swim bag, “I went for a swim, and that’s what I should have done before I took that bottle to my lips. Trust me?” I eagerly waited for her answer.

  She pushed her curly blonde hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. “One hundred percent.”

  “Have you eaten?” I asked to change the subject and also knowing that she hadn’t because she always waited for me to cook. When it came to household chores, Steph was hopeless, so I’d hoped she would gain more interest in cooking, but she had no interest in either. I, however, was a great cook. I had to learn from a young age to cook for myself and quite enjoyed it.

  “No,” she admitted.

  I looked into the kitchen sink, saw the dirty glasses were still sitting there, and groaned my way over to the fridge, where I looked for something quick and simple.

  “Evey, I’ll order an Indian. Don’t worry about cooking.”

  I spun around to face Steph, slamming the fridge door. “Steph, why order something when I can cook? You’re wasting money.” After scolding her, I got started on the dishes, making harsh work of it.

  “Out with it,” Steph demanded from behind me. I could sense her crossed arms and serious, deep frown.

  “With what?” I acted baffled, choosing not to face her.

  “What’s with the foul mood?” she pushed.

  Steph knew me better than anyone. We went to nursery together and were inseparable since then. She had become way more than a friend to me, and I also had an extremely close bond with her family and loved them like my own. They were all I had in London. I never had any other friends growing up because their parents didn’t want their child mixing with someone like me.

  I finished the dishes and joined her on our mismatched sofa.

  “It’s nothing.”

  Her beady eyes were fixed on mine, assessing my features. “Alex is treating you right, isn’t he?”

  I smiled a little at the thought of Alex, but it wasn’t a special smile. I smiled because of how nice he was. There was that word again—nice.

  “Yes. He’s…wonderful.”
/>   She bounced on her knees, getting a little exited. “He will be good for you, Evey. I know I would say that because he’s my big brother, but he’s a good man and that’s what you need.”

  A good man? Is that what I needed? Just a…good man?

  A safe option, more like.

  “Hmm. How are you and Mathew?” I changed the subject every time I felt uncomfortable, and she did that groan she always did when Mathew was mentioned.

  “Fine, I suppose. It’s just…he has no go in him anymore, Evey.”

  Oh God, here she went. She could rant about her boyfriend for days. “He has no goals, no aims in life. He’s a postman who swans off down the pub every night. Then he calls over here and we have dull sex. He’s contented, but I need more than that.” She twirled her curls around her fingers, something she did when she was deep in thought. I pulled my legs up onto the sofa and unhooked my wet hair from my bun.

  “Why don’t you talk to him? Tell him how you feel.”

  “I have,” she moaned.

  I raised my eyebrow on a smirk, knowing better. “Shouting at him is not talking. Besides”—I nodded towards Steph’s catalogues—”all those sex toys you have are going to waste.”

  She flopped her head back onto the headrest dramatically. “Tell me about it. Oh, how was the gyrating egg I gave you?”

  “I haven’t tried it yet. I might have to tonight, though. My sexual frustration levels have hit an all-time high.”

  Steph laughed as I chuckled to myself. “Get fucking Alex, then.” She slapped my knee playfully and wiggled her eyebrows.

  I stared at her wide-eyed whilst her smirk sank at the realisation of what she’d just said.

  “Ignore that. I’ll call the takeaway.”

  Yes, we shared everything, but her telling me to fuck her brother was something I didn’t want her to share.

  Chapter Eight

  My alarm woke me up that morning, and I did my usual routine of cursing with how much I hated it and begrudgingly crawled out of bed.

  After my shower, I straightened my hair. On a Wednesday. Brushed my light olive skin with bronzing powder, combed my lashes with mascara, and swiped my lips with gloss. I threw on black-lace underwear, pulled black stockings up my legs, and changed into a black pencil skirt, a grey silk blouse, and a black blazer that turned up at the sleeves.