CHAPTER SIX
AURORA
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“U gh.” I rip the dress off and throw it on the growing pile on my bed.
“Wear the green,” Chloe says from the phone, which is propped up against a picture frame on my dressing table. “And please, for the love of god, wear some sexy lingerie.”
I plop down on the bed and stare at myself in the free-standing mirror. I know I have a nice figure but I’m so nervous.
My hand flies to my tummy.
“Is that a roll? I think I have a roll. Even with these control panties.”
“Jesus, Aurora. The fact you can even buy them in your size proves it’s just marketing bullshit.” Chloe groans and pops another potato chip in her mouth. “Shwear schum lace or woo won’t”— crunch, crunch, crunch —“you won’t get laid.”
Is that why I am going out with Parker?
For sex?
More crunching.
I woke up aching between my legs this morning and have had them clenched all day. I’ve got a healthy sex drive like the next twenty-six-year-old woman, but a) I should be grieving my mother and b) I like to think I want more from a man than just sex.
I’ve never been a one-night-stand girl.
In fact, I’ve only dated three guys in my life. All of them for less than a year.
It was because of those relationships with men that I started asking Mom questions. I began to realize that my childhood wasn’t normal and the choices she made had impacted me more than I was aware of.
After all, as a kid, you don’t exactly have any context to compare with. You just live how you live. Your parent(s) raise you how they do.
When Theo asked what is wrong with you after our first fight, I immediately decided I was the broken one, not him. I can’t recall what it was about, but why did I let him make me feel like I was to blame?
I went to a therapist, and she said that fathers are there to teach us our self-worth. That mine had been absent likely contributed to me not having much.
But it was something I could find as an adult.
Still, when I raised it with Mom, she was irritated with me. Her refusal to tell me who my father is, or answer any of my questions rather than supporting me, made me even more mad.
Then there was Don—Donald. He was controlling and hated the nickname I gave him. My name is Donald. Please don’t disrespect me by shortening it. Jeez, okay. But then he’d flip and be lighthearted. In the end, I had whiplash from his personality (personalities!) while he got frustrated with my free spirit nature.
Clearly a bad match.
Finally, there was Joseph, who I dated until about a year ago. For a brief time, I thought he might be the one. The CEO of a small engineering company, Joe had his life sorted out. I spent five nights a week at his house and was preparing for the upcoming should we move in together conversation.
Until he asked me how I felt about swinging.
“Like on a swing?”
“Babe. That’s hot. If you want,” Joseph replied, tugging me against him.
“What?”
“What?” He leaned back, his hands dropping.
I blinked and continued blinking as he explained what it meant.
“We’ve been together three months. You want me to fuck another man?” I gasped.
“It’s not cheating. It’s consensual.”
I shoved him. “It’s not if I say no.”
“Come on, babe. Don’t be vanilla. Let’s try it. He can just fondle your breasts to start. Fuck, that would get me off.”
“Gross.”
I hadn’t fully meant it. The idea did create some arousal in my body. I was just offended. I thought we were falling in love. Then he decides to share he has a kink.
I didn’t want to share him with another woman or have another couple in our bed. That wasn’t for me.
We eventually parted ways, but the thoughts of having multiple sex partners had played around in my mind. I wondered what it would be like to have two men or another woman in the mix.
Maybe I wasn’t vanilla after all.
It left me feeling confused, but I’d never shared my thoughts with anyone.
Still, whether I was more adventurous than I’d given myself credit for, I knew I wasn’t a one-night-stand girl.
Then thoughts of Parker return and I wonder if I’d have the willpower to stop him should he make a move.
The man is a sex god.
I’d noticed the ink on his wrist when he lifted my hand to his mouth, and more on his neck. Not even his expensive suit was able to hide it completely. He also wore a black ring on his middle finger with some kind of design. I’d yet to have a good look, but it all added to the mystery of this otherwise well-polished man.
“Who says I want to get laid? He might not even kiss me goodnight on the first date.”
Chloe blows chunks of potato chips out of her mouth.
“You said he looks like Damon Salvatore and wears a Rolex. If you don’t ride that pony tonight, girl, I am friend-divorcing you.”
Ride that pony?
“How are we even friends?” I stand and grab the green dress again.
“No idea. Maybe it’s fate’s way of introducing me to Parker’s friends. Then I can ditch you.”
I start laughing.
“You couldn’t live without me.”
“Fine. You can be my lady maid.” She munches on more chips.
Pretty sure that’s not what they’re called, but I ignore her and tug the dress over my head. We might be different in many ways but we’re close. Chloe is the kind of friend that would help you bury a body at two a.m.
Not that I’m planning it.
The dark emerald dress hits my thighs and I spin around. It’s short, but not too short if he takes me to a nice restaurant. I tug on a black jacket and sit to do up the ankle strap on my heels.
“If he has hot friends, I’ll let you know. Right now, I am going to take your advice and change my underwear, so goodbye.”
I grin as I walk toward the phone.
Before I can end the call, she calls out, “Or no panties at all!”
Laughing, I end the call and take note of the time on the screen. I quickly change my underwear, spray some perfume, tuck my phone in my purse, and dart around looking for my keys. Finding them, I race to the door, stop, draw in a deep breath, and blow it out.
Here I go.
Why am I so nervous?
My heart is beating away in my chest. I don’t know if it’s from excitement or nerves. Could be both. Either way, I have a feeling I won’t forget tonight.
I pull the door open and catch the elevator down to the small lobby of my building, then step outside. Parker is dressed all in black, leaning against a black Maserati with his arms crossed.
Holy shit.
I think I just got pregnant from looking at him.
His smile, as he pushes away from the vehicle and strides toward me, looks predatory and dangerous.
And I like it.
A lot.
“Aurora.” Parker lifts my hand and kisses it, like yesterday, sending red fiery lust through my body.
Christ.
Handsome, rich, and he’s as smooth as butter. I’m not strong enough to resist this man. In saying that, he’s not the kind of man you marry. This is the man you go home with and let him fuck you like it’s your last night on earth.
Then never regret it for a single second.
Even if you never tell a soul how good it felt to be a complete and unapologetic slut.
Oh my god, where are these thoughts coming from?
“Hello, Parker.” I try hard to sound unaffected, but we both know I am.
“You look beautiful.” He rasps.
So do you.
His deep blue eyes tap away at my memory once more, but I know I’ve never met him. I’d remember. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s very experienced with women and I’m just this weekend’s date.
“Shall we?” His hand slides effortlessly to the small of my back and, with a grin, leads me to the passenger door of the luxury vehicle.
Black.
Shiny.
Sexy.
“No driver tonight?” I ask.
Parker doesn’t reply. He simply closes the door with his ever-present sexy glower and I’m left questioning my decision to go out with him.
My insecurities rise to the surface as I swallow and take in the luxury vehicle, the smell of new leather, and the warmth of the seat he’s preheated for me.
My pussy purrs.
Like I’m sure he planned.
Oh fuck.
Parker slides in beside me and starts the engine with a roar, and all I can think of is sex.
Sex, sex, sex.
Maybe I need to have my hormones checked.
The vibration of the powerful engine has me clenching my core as Parker grabs hold of the stick and it glides into gear.
“No driver. No personal security. I wanted you all to myself tonight.” Parker’s voice is rough, making me quiver as he presses down on the gas, and we pull out into traffic.
The sun has just gone down, but this is Manhattan which, as they say, never sleeps, so there are still people striding along the sidewalk, jumping in and out of cabs, shopping, and cars tooting horns.
Like there always are.
“All to yourself, huh? Instead of sharing me?” I laugh then turn to the window and close my eyes, letting out a silent curse.
Oh, my god. Why did I say that?
What is wrong with me?
Parker glances at me, leaning his forearm on the steering wheel when we slow for a set of lights. “Interesting.”
Shit.
I want to melt into the seat and disappear.
I shake my head. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that? I’m just nervous.”
He reaches for my hand, catches himself, and drops it back down on the stick. Like he stopped himself from comforting me. Given we’re strangers on a date, he was right to do that.
Still, I like that he was going to.
“Me too,” Parker says, and I know he’s lying. There’s not an ounce of nervousness about him. Confidence is oozing from every pore.
He just wants me to relax so we can fast forward through dinner and get horizontal. Or vertical. I bet he has a lot of sexual positions.
Oh god, I’m stressing myself out.
I need to chill out. Once we get through dinner, Parker will realize I’m not as confident as I was on the street, sassing him out. The attraction will fade and he’ll politely take me home.
I mean, god, I don’t even know who I am or who my father is. My mom is dead. I don’t have a life plan or a career.
I should have said no.
I feel like a fraud.