Without her.
I tighten my grip on her body and close my eyes, letting our bodies connect for a minute, two, ten. I don’t know how long we stand there just holding one another. And then reality seeps in.
Hurt.
Dishonesty.
Betrayal.
Gritting my teeth, I push her back and away, swallowing down the bile that rises with the act of putting space between us. My mind swirls with the need to get her into a private space and interrogate the hell out of her, or toss her over my shoulder, throw her on the bed, and fuck the sins out of her.
“Park . . .”
“What are you doing here?” I clear my throat and take a step away.
She lifts her arms over her chest and rubs at her biceps, seeming suddenly chilled, though I think it has more to do with the space I put between us than the temperature.
Skyler frowns. “What do you mean? You told me Wendy was hurt.” She lifts her hand toward Sleeping Beauty. “Wendy’s my friend. She’s like a sister to my boyfriend. Of course I’m going to drop everything and be by her side, by yours.”
“I didn’t expect you to come all this way.”
“Parker, we have to talk. I am not the enemy. I’m the woman who loves you.”
Loves you.
Her words shred my resolve, and the last two weeks pour over my body like acid, burning its way through flesh and bone.
My anger at her for being with Johan.
My love for her battling against what she did.
Alexis clamoring after me.
Wendy being shot.
It’s all too damn much, and I feel like a volcano ready to erupt.
Bo takes that moment to enter. “Whoa, howdy.” He glances from me to Skyler to Wendy and then back to me again. “Uh, should I come back?”
I clench my jaw and stare at Skyler, taking in her flowy dress, simple sweater, and knee-high suede boots. She’s my living dream come true and, at the same time, my waking nightmare.
“You need to stay with Wendy until Michael comes back. Contact him if there is any change whatsoever. I promised him. I need to deal with her.” The words are like poison on my tongue as I stomp over to Skyler and grab her hand and drag her out of Wendy’s room.
“Where are we going? Where are you taking me?” She tugs on my good hand, and it pulls against the stitches in my shoulder. I wince but grip her tighter. No way in hell I’m letting her go.
There is no stopping this train. I’m out of my mind right now, and I need peace and quiet in order to deal with the raging emotions swirling like a vortex inside of my mind and body. “Hotel attached to the hospital. You wanted to talk. We’re going to talk.”
She keeps up with my pace, though mine is more of a jog than a fast walk.
The second we reach my room I insert the card, push her in, and shove the door closed with my foot. She whirls around, her chest lifting and falling with her labored breaths. Her eyes are a wild mixture of brown and caramel, and her cheeks are pink. She’s never been more beautiful.
Fuck!
“Parker . . .” She licks her lips, and I lose it.
Gone.
I grab her at the waist, spin her around, and press her up against the hotel door, smashing my body into hers. She gasps at the contact, and I take full advantage of her open mouth, kissing her. She tastes of mint and madness. Or maybe that’s me. Whatever it is, I lick deep, suck her tongue, and swallow every last one of her moans. Her tongue dances with mine in an illicit rhythm that has every one of my nerve endings heating and popping.
I grind against her and cup her ass, getting closer for more friction. She rips her mouth away, sucking in much-needed air. “Oh God . . .” She tips her head back, and I run my lips down her throat, biting and nipping, not caring if I mark up her pretty skin. She deserves it, the bite of pain. I want her to feel what I’ve felt.
“You like this, Peaches. Me losing my mind over you.” I nuzzle at the scoop neck of her dress and push up her tits, not caring that my hand is killing me. I bite down on the fleshy globe of her plump breast, and she cries out at the pinch.
“Yes. You’ve made me crazy!” She battles, tugging at my shirt, lifting it up until she can get her hands on my abdomen. Her knuckles trace the square ridges of each abdominal muscle, and it’s like a direct shot of arousal to my dick. The beast stands at attention, swelling and growing harder with every sigh from her lips, every flutter of her fingers against my bare skin.
I ease back and pull my shirt over my head and push off her sweater. Her dress would take too much time. Her fingers are quick at my slacks, opening them and dipping both her hands in to cup and fondle me.
Ecstasy.
Pure heaven.
Her touch is molten lava against my skin as I thrust into her palm.
“Please . . . ,” she pleads, a desperation I know all too well.
I slip my hand under her dress and find a lacy thong. “You wore this scrap of lace for me?” I growl and take her mouth in a deep kiss. The lace is flimsy enough I’m able to rip it easily with one fierce tug.
She cries out at the pinch on her sensitive skin, and I pull the shredded lace from her body and tuck it into my pocket, pressing my hard cock against her while I ease my hand up her thigh.
“You wet for me?” I lick up the side of her neck.
She moans. “Always.”
“Hmm, guess I’m going to have to find out myself.” I palm her center possessively; her desire coats my hand. “Did you get this hot for Johan?” I grit through my teeth, and press two fingers deep inside of her.
Her mouth opens on a silent cry, and she shakes her head. “Never for him.”
I finger-fuck her, grinding my palm against her wet clit. “He touch you like this when you went to his hotel? He put his fingers in you, make you scream his name?” I ease my fingers in and out in a rapid, torturous move that I know will keep her excited but isn’t hitting the right spots to make her go off.
“No!” She smacks my chest with her hand. “I wouldn’t do that to you. To us!” Her eyes flare with white-hot anger and disgust. It does something to me. Something I needed more than I could ever voice.
It gives me hope.
I remove my fingers from her slick heat, and she cries out, “No!”
“Wrap your arms around my shoulders and hop up,” I demand.
She doesn’t hesitate for a moment before she responds. I catch her with my good hand on her ass and press her harder against the door. She holds on as I push up her dress up and maneuver my cock to the slippery center between her thighs.
I hover with just the tip inside. It kills me not to power home, but I need to know. She squeezes her legs, trying to get me to move, to sink inside, but I can’t. Not until I know for sure.
I look her right in the eyes and hold her gaze. “Did you sleep with him?”
Her lips twist into a grimace. “No.” Her eyes shimmer with unchecked tears.
“Did you cheat on me, Sky? Tell me the truth.”
Her gaze sparkles with ire and then softens. “I swear I didn’t. I love you.”
“Fuck!” I slam into her, letting almost two weeks of anger, hatred, and uncertainty bleed out of me as I pound into her perfect body. “You. Are. Mine.” I thrust hard, grinding my pelvis against hers, wanting to go deeper, harder, until I’m wrapped up in nothing but the woman I love.
“Honey, God, I missed you. Missed us!” she cries out on a gasp.
It’s too much. Everything that is Skyler and me together is too much to bear. I’m hanging by the strength of a single strand of hair.
“Get there,” I growl, pounding into her body as she tightens around me, the walls of her sex a sacred home I never want to leave.
Sparks and pinpricks move over my body as I take in all that is Skyler and me.
The haven between her thighs, welcoming my every thrust.
Her arms holding me tight, as if she’ll never let me go.
The serenity of having her lips on m
ine, her breath and taste in my mouth.
Her soul coming home.
“I’ll never be the same,” I whisper against her lips, taking us both higher and higher with each blessed thrust. Our bodies joining, minds melding, hearts healing with every breath.
“Honey . . . ,” she moans, and licks her lips, licking mine in the process.
The touch of her tongue sends another ribbon of ecstasy between my thighs, swirling around my groin until my eyesight wavers, my thighs lock in place, glutes tightening painfully. Sweat breaks out over my body, and a buzzing euphoria spreads out from my lower back, drawing my nuts up tight as they slap against her ass with every pounding thrust.
I hold her face with my busted hand, using my thumb and forefinger around her jaw. “You’ve destroyed my world. I can’t be without you. Without this. I love you, Skyler. I fucking love you so much it burns in me.”
Tears fall down her cheeks as her body locks down, arms shackled around my shoulders, heels digging into my ass. She slams her lips to mine in a crushing kiss.
Her kiss is love, honesty, and truth. It heals me from the inside out as my own body soars to the stars.
Her hair is so soft as I run my fingers through the strands. After the wall fucking, we made it into a heap on the bed, still half-dressed, me in my opened slacks, no shirt, her with her flimsy dress on. She did take the boots off, much to my sadness.
I glance over at the clock and realize we’ve been gone for two hours and not a lot has been solved besides soothing the ache in our physical bodies.
“We have to go. Wendy could wake up.” I let her hair fall through my fingers one last time and sit up, heaving my body over the side of the bed.
“Honey, we need to talk. Really talk.” She places her hand on the center of my bare back, and it burns against my skin.
I nod and stand up, unable to handle more of her touch right now. If I let it, I could so easily go down the rabbit hole and disregard everything else in my life and lose myself in her warm light.
“And we will.”
She gets up onto her knees. “But do you believe me?” Her voice shakes, and she eases back on her heels, perched on the bed like a needy puppy awaiting its next treat.
I look at her sorrow-filled face and honest eyes. “Yeah, I do. That doesn’t mean I’m not still hurt and angry for what you did. Going to him.”
She rushes to speak. “I had to try and fix it—”
I cut her off. “We can’t do this now, Sky. I need to get back to Wendy. She needs us. All of us. Do you understand?”
She bites her lip and nods before crawling out of the bed and putting her boots on. “I need to pick up my suitcase.” She gestures to her lower body where, under her dress, I know she’s going commando.
“Yeah, okay.”
Her gaze falls to the bandage on my shoulder as if just seeing it for the first time. “What is this?”
“Gunshot wound. Was grazed by a bullet the same day Wendy was shot.”
Her eyes widen and fill with tears once more. She reaches for my wrist above where my hand is now bandaged from where the ER doc replaced a few of the stitches I busted this past week. The ring and pinky fingers are still in their splints.
Her voice is raw and so low I can barely hear it when she whispers, “And this?”
I try to pull my hand back, not wanting to tell her what I did to myself. “Let it go, Sky.”
She brings my wounded hand to her face and kisses my palm. “And this?” she repeats.
I close my eyes and rustle up the courage to admit my pain. “I had it out with a wall and a beer bottle. You should see the wall.”
“When?” A tear slips down her cheek.
“Sky . . . ,” I warn, but her voice rises.
“I said when?”
“The same day you woke up in another man’s bed.”
Her eyes close, more tears slipping out. “Parker, I didn’t sleep with him.” Her words hold even more conviction now because I’m not balls deep inside of her.
I straighten my shoulders and my resolve. “I believe you.”
SKYLER
Parker’s hand is warm in mine as he leads me through the halls of Montreal General Hospital. I watch his profile and stare longingly at his handsome face. His jaw is hard and scruffy from what seems to be a few days of going without his daily shave. The high cheekbones and straight Roman nose are a sight for sore eyes, though it’s his eyes, or rather the dark circles underneath those baby blues, that have me worried. I squeeze his hand, reminding him that I’m here and thanking every deity known to mankind that he’s allowing me to be by his side.
Together.
It’s all I’ve prayed for the better part of two weeks without him. Our coupling earlier was an angry crash of bodies, limbs, and mouths. A fever that swelled and crested with the most beautiful crescendo but ended with doubt and uncertainty of where we stand now. I can only hope it will be enough until we have the time to talk, truly work out what happened.
We reach Wendy’s room to find Michael speaking with a blonde woman and a younger blond man. The blonde looks like she could be splashed all over the Victoria’s Secret website. Either that or a classy version of Hustler. Her hair is hanging around her shoulders in bountiful big curls. She has on a skintight royal-blue dress that looks like she was sewn into it and is the exact opposite of my simple maxi dress and sweater. She’s wearing sky-high stilettos, and her lips are painted a glossy pink. She looks like she could have just come out of a nightclub, only it’s just ten minutes past noon. The man sitting next to her has similar facial features, hair, and eyes, and is wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Definitely not a couple but very likely related.
“Parker!” The woman jumps out of her seat and plasters her voluptuous body all over my man.
Parker lets go of my hand and pats her back in a gesture of support and concern, but thankfully, not more than that. Still, I cringe and grind my molars together.
“Alexis, what are you doing here?” He looks over to the blond man. “Kidd.” He nods.
“Well, we came the first day and again yesterday, but we must not have crossed paths. We’re heartbroken over what happened to Wendy, and by someone working for us.” She sniffs, getting teary before she presses her forehead to Parker’s chest, her hands to her face, and sobs, letting her tears run.
He pats her back and swallows. I can see his Adam’s apple moving slowly. Parker glances at me and frowns. I’m not sure what it means or why he did it. Maybe because there’s a strange woman crying against his chest. Maybe he doesn’t want me to see him console her.
“It’s okay. Wendy’s going to be fine,” he coos into her hairline, and nods his chin at the man standing next to them, who looks rather uncomfortable and out of place. He eases the crying woman into the man’s tattooed arms, and he takes over easily, comforting her within his embrace.
She lets out a whimper, pulls her head away, and takes the hankie Michael holds out toward her. Ever the gentleman, Wendy’s Michael is.
“Who is she?” The blonde points to me, wiping under her eyes and nose. Not a speck of her makeup is smeared, which makes me want to hate her for being so perfect even when she cries.
Before either of us can respond, Michael glances my way. “She’s Parker’s girlfriend.”
Her eyes widen, and a devilish smirk appears across her glossy lips. “Pretty. I can see now why you wouldn’t take me up on my offer,” she says, addressing Parker while sizing me up.
Take her up on her offer?
What the hell kind of offer did she make?
A violent wave of jealousy washes over me, and I narrow my gaze at her and tighten my fists at my sides. My heart pounds a bass drumbeat so hard I can barely breathe. Butterflies take flight in my nauseous stomach; I’m two seconds from tossing my cookies in the hospital wastebasket.
“Ouch. Those daggers you’re sending are lethal.” She runs a hand through her hair, a nonchalance in her movements I’ve never quite ma
stered. “Don’t worry, he didn’t accept my offer. Well, not completely.” She winks, which might as well be seen as nothing short of a point being marked on a scoreboard.
“What the fuck does that mean, Parker? Who is this woman?” I lose my lock on my filter and glare at Parker. “Do you have something you need to tell me about Miss Big Boobs over there?”
Parker runs a hand behind his neck. “This is Alexis Stanton and her brother, Kidd. They’re our clients. The shooting happened at their business. They’re here to see Wendy. And no, I don’t have anything more to say. The rest we’ll deal with later.” The emphasis on the word later brooks no argument. Even though I feel like I’m coming out of my skin, and beads of sweat are forming along my hairline, I tighten my jaw and keep my mouth shut.
“You look familiar. A dead ringer for that actress Skyler Paige,” the blonde says.
Parker sighs loudly. “It’s because she is Skyler Paige.” He looks down at his feet, the awkwardness of the situation clearly weighing him down.
“Wow.” Alexis blinks rapidly as if she can’t believe her own eyes.
Inside, I want to fist-bump the air and call out a “Take that, Barbie bitch!” Win for me.
Michael comes over to me, and I take his hand in both of mine.
“Thank you for coming, Skyler. Wendy would be pleased. You should talk to her. I believe she can hear you.” His lips flatten into a thin white line of irritation as he leads me over to Wendy’s prone form before glancing back over his shoulder. “All of you.”
Seeing her lying so still, bandaged up, darkness smudging around her eyes and cheeks, my stomach plummets. I slide into the chair next to her bedside and grab for her hand.
“Wendy . . . it’s me, Sky. Your new bestie, remember?” I swallow down the sudden clog in my throat. “Hey, you have to wake up, girlie. You have a wedding to plan, and we have bridesmaids’ dresses to pick out. Remember? We were going to have a girls’ weekend in the city?” I lean my chin against her arm and look intensely at her face, willing her to wake up. “Please wake up.” My voice sounds like I’ve swallowed razor blades, and my throat feels just as bad.
A warm hand comes down on each of my shoulders. Parker.
International Guy: Milan, San Francisco, Montreal (International Guy Volumes Book 2) Page 39