Chapter Nine
I stumble into the hotel room a little after midnight. Exhaustion tears at my body as I lie on the ground in the middle of the lounge area.
“I told you we didn’t have to stay at the party that long,” Sydney muses as she steps over me.
“Tell that to all of the people who kept coming up to me,” I groan.
I’ll never say no to a party; I love them just as much as the next person. But tonight wasn’t a party party, despite how Syd makes it sound.
Everyone from the tournament was there, reporters and game developers included. It’s not the same as going to a club with Aleks and Jackson or a penthouse party with the lads. I had to be switched on, make sure that I said hello to everyone, and play the role of English. The slight buzz I had from the champagne at the start of the night has worn off, and now I am just tired.
“Come on, party boy, get off the floor.”
Sydney holds out her hand, and I take it even though her strength does nothing to help me up. I just crave her contact.
I haven’t taken my mask off yet, and the LED bathes her in a soft blue. She looks gorgeous, even though I’m sure she’s tired as shit as well. Honestly, I’m glad I didn’t have to do this weekend alone. Throughout the craziness of today’s event, I knew I could look over at her and ground myself. She was my constant in the chaos.
Syd wiggles her hand out of my own, and it brings me back to the present.
“We have an early flight tomorrow.” She bends down to take off her heels.
“If we’d taken the jet, we could’ve slept in.” I peel off my mask and toss it onto my overnight bag before working to undo the buttons on my shirt.
“You’re like a dog with a bone, I swear,” she chastises, setting her heels carefully next to the couch.
I love when she gets annoyed; it’s adorable.
The doorbell to our room goes off, and Sydney peers up at me with confusion.
“Did you order something?”
“I don’t know. Did I?” I give her a teasing grin as I run to the door. I take the cart from the employee outside, slipping them a fifty dollar note before rolling the cart into the room.
“What are you up to now, Parker?” Sydney lets out a deep sigh before padding over to me.
“I got us a little gift for all our hard work.”
I take the plate covered by the silver cloche and put it on the coffee table before placing two champagne flutes and a bottle next to them.
I flop on the couch and toe off my shoes, kicking them across the room so they land somewhat close to my bag. I should probably be a little gentler, considering they cost me north of a grand.
I pat the cushion next to me, “Come on. Pop a squat.”
Sydney climbs onto the couch, tucking her legs under her ass. She stares at my bare chest for a moment before turning her attention to the assortment on the table.
“That’s a lot of champagne for one person.”
“Ah, see that’s where you’re wrong, my dear Sydney.” I grab the bottle and hold it out to her. “It’s nonalcoholic.” I pop off the top and pour us both a glass.
I hold mine out to her. “Cheers to a successful weekend.”
“Cheers.” She gives me a soft smile, clinking her glass to mine. “I know you don’t need me to make your ego any bigger than it already is, but you did well today, Parker. You were a natural on stage, and your gameplay was amazing. DCS isn’t going to know what hit them.”
Pride warms my chest. Sydney’s approval always burns brighter than anyone else’s. I could win ten games in a row and not feel as accomplished as I do right now. I want to impress her, no matter the cost.
Which is why I remove the silver cloche to reveal the sweet treat underneath.
Sydney’s eyes widen, and I watch as excitement dances across her moonlight eyes.
“Are those chocolate-covered berries?”
“Sure are. And before you ask, yes, it’s vegan chocolate.”
She picks up a fork and stabs a strawberry excitedly before popping the entire thing in her mouth. The little hum of pleasure she makes as she closes her eyes has my dick twitching.
I quickly pick up a fork and stab one of the little round balls, holding it out to her.
She barely ate anything at the party because the asshats didn’t think to cater to people’s dietary restrictions.
“Here, try this one.”
She hesitates for a second, eyeing my fork. “I can feed myself.”
“Just trust me on this one, Syd.” I give her puppy-dog eyes. “Please.”
She purses her mouth, but I see her shoulders relax. “Fine.”
Her lips close around the fork, and I inwardly curse myself for this torture I’ve willingly inflicted upon myself.
I see the second she realizes what she’s just bitten into. The corners of her eyes crinkle and a smile stretches across her face before she hurriedly chews to finish the treat.
“Cherries? No way. These are, like, one of my most favorite things in the world,” she says as she stabs another one onto her fork and pops it into her mouth, completely distracted. “I can’t believe they have them here.”
Technically, they don’t.
Oddly enough, chocolate covered cherries aren’t easy to come by. I know Syd makes her own at home, so I had to pay the chef at the Kelton to make some just for us.
I take a sip of the sparkling drink, letting the bubbles fizzle across my tongue as I watch her happily devour the treats. I could watch her eat these for hours and not get bored. The way her lips form a perfect circle every time is mesmerizing.
“I’d feel bad eating all of these if I didn’t know you hated sweets,” she comments, demolishing the cherries at a breakneck pace. “You should’ve gotten something for yourself.”
“This is my treat,” I murmur, picking up a strawberry and holding it out to her.
Her eyes widen, and I watch a war play out across the dark gray skies of her gaze. For a moment, a split second, I think maybe I’ve won. Her tongue peeks out through the small gap in her mouth, licking her lower lip ever so slowly before she bites it.
Everything stops. My breath slows and I wait. Wait for her to make the move. Because no matter what I want, I know it has to come from her.
But the fire dies, and I see the storm in her eyes calm. She reaches out and plucks the strawberry from my hand, popping it into her mouth instead.
“I’m gowwing to hafe a shower,” she mumbles around the chocolate as she shoots to her feet and basically sprints to the bathroom. The door slams shut, and I throw my head against the back of the couch.
I misread the distance, and my head clashes against the wall instead.
“Fuck,” I hiss at the pain. But I don’t move, I just close my eyes and take deep breaths, willing the blood in my veins to cool.
So close.
So damn close.
I’m beginning to wonder just how much longer I can last by her side without the glass castle crashing down around us. I’m beginning to wonder if I even care anymore.
This weekend has been torture.
Hell, the last five years have been torture.
But when I saw Jace next to Syd earlier today, it sent a bolt of ice into my chest. The fear was immediate. Jace makes women fall for him without trying. He’s observant and knows how to make people feel at ease within seconds of knowing them. It’s a talent that has broken more than a few hearts since we were in school.
Seeing Syd share her glowing smile with him sent me into protection mode. I didn’t want him looking at her, let alone touching her.
Sydney Lake has been mine from the moment we locked eyes at that restaurant, even if she doesn’t know it. She branded me, and I’ve never forgotten the taste.
The bathroom door blasts open, and I barely blink before Sydney practically dives into the bed.
All right.
If that’s how she wants to play it.
I peel off my shirt and trousers, folding them haphazardly and leaving them on my roller bag. I stroll into the bathroom in just my briefs, keeping the door open as I get ready for the night.
If I have to suffer the torture of sleeping next to her without touching her, she can deal with my body.
I catch Syd checking out my ass a few times while brushing my teeth before our eyes lock and she abruptly turns over and pulls the sheets up to her neck.
I roll my eyes, shutting off the lights and maneuvering through the dark room to the bed. Sydney doesn’t budge as the bed dips under my added weight, but I do see her eyelids tighten. I lie on my side, propping my chin on my palm as I look at her. Try as she might, she can’t fake asleep.
A few seconds pass before her left eye cracks open slightly. When she sees me, both eyes pop open, dipping briefly to my bare chest then back up to my gaze. Her jaw tightens and she flips over, giving me her back as she curls into a ball.
It’s that split second of want that blooms in her gaze which gives me strength.
Sydney might like to think she is an iron castle, that she doesn’t let anyone see what’s past the gates unless she wants them to, but she forgets that I own the kingdom. I always see the little moments where she stares just a touch too long, where her attention slips lower than she intended it to.
Sydney Lake can say whatever she wants, she can be as professional as she deems, but I know that there is a piece of her that craves me just as much as I crave her. She’s Eve and I’m the forbidden fruit. I just need to find a way to convince her to take a bite.
“All right, Syd?” My voice breaks the silence, and I see the way her shoulders pinch.
“I’m fine.” It’s a short, clipped response.
“You seem a little tense.”
“I’m just tired.”
“Didn’t seem that tired when you were eating your cherries.” The silence returns as she proceeds to ignore me. “In fact, seemed like you were really enjoying them.”
“Parker, I’m trying to sleep. We have to be at the airport in six hours.”
“Wouldn’t be worried about that if we took the jet,” I bait.
“Seriously?” She flips over and frowns at me.
“Seriously.” I knew that would get her.
We lock eyes, and I hold, waiting to see if she’ll cave like always. She holds out longer than I expected, but eventually her gaze slides to the left to stare out the window behind me.
“I’m not in the mood to deal with this, Parker.”
“With what?” I push.
“With you.”
Her eyes return to mine. There’s an undercurrent of pain curling around the steel. This is the closest I’ve ever gotten her to admitting something. Hidden by the night, with only small slithers of moonlight leaking in through cracks in the blinds and the soft glow of the alarm clock.
I see her step closer to the tree and take a closer look at the forbidden fruit dangling within her reach.
I reach forward, gathering a loose tendril of hair that has slipped out of her bun. I push the golden lock behind her ear, letting my fingertips trace the shell before coming to rest on her chin. Her body shivers at the contact.
I leave my hand between us. An open invitation.
The silence grows until it is thick with the tension bleeding around us.
Her chest rises and falls as her emotions create a whirlwind inside her small body. Those eyes dip to my lips, up to my stare, then back to my lips. I don’t stop the urge to bite my lower lip, I embrace it, letting the pain center me.
Her hand comes up to circle my raised wrist, and the world stops spinning.
I know this is the moment. The moment when she decides to take a bite or not. She’s plucked the fruit off the tree; the temptation is right there in the palm of her hand.
This is the one shot.
“Parker.”
My name slips from her lips ever so quietly, and I hear the reluctance in the tone. The worry. The fear. I see her trying to take a step away from the tree, away from the fruit that calls her name.
I can’t.
I can’t let her go.
“Fuck it.”
I close the distance between us, and Sydney sucks in a breath just as my lips crash into hers.
She tastes exactly as I remember. Like cherries and pure fucking sunshine. I drink it all in, savoring every second like a man finding a stream in the middle of a forest fire.
I’m an astronaut who has been stranded, floating in space, and I’ve just been brought back down to Earth. Gravity hits me all at once, pulling me toward her. I feel at peace, grounded. I don’t stop kissing her, I don’t chance it.
My free hand comes around the back of her neck, and I tilt her up to me, deepening the kiss. I stifle the groan building in my throat as I continue to taste every inch of her marshmallow-soft lips.
Now that I’ve started, I don’t know if I can stop. Every thought in my mind disappears as I single-mindedly focus on the way she feels pressed against me.
She pulls back slightly and murmurs my name against my mouth.
“Parker, I don’t think—”
“Don’t think,” I cut her off. “For five minutes, just don’t think.” I nip her top lip, and her eyes flutter shut.
“Five minutes.”
Sydney’s hesitant lips push back against my own, and I refrain from pulling her on top of me. From hauling her sweet body onto my hips so I can feel every inch of her on me.
She said five minutes, and I’m not going to do anything to lose even a single second by doing something that could throw her off.
I’m not a patient man, but I’ve waited five years for these five minutes.
Because Sydney will always be the exception. I’ll move like molasses for her, so long as she keeps teasing those sinful lips against mine.
Her tongue teases against my mouth, and I open to her instantly, letting her in. It’s a perfect dance, and my blood roars to attention when a low hum slips out of her.
My briefs do nothing to stop my straining cock, thick with want for the beauty before me. I reach down and give it a rough stroke through the fabric.
God, I need her. I need her so fucking bad.
I groan against her lips, intoxicated by her, fading into the oblivion that is Sydney Lake.
Her hand comes around my shoulder, and I shudder at the feeling of her fingers on my bare skin. My body heats wherever she touches as though it is imprinting the feel of her down to my very soul. Her nails dig into my biceps, and the slight tug is the only signal, the only invitation, I need.
I swing my leg around her, caging her between the bed and my body.
I’m careful not to crush her, using my knees and elbows to hover above her, because I know the second I come down on her, she will feel exactly how much I want her—and I’m not sure if that is going to freak her out or not. But then her soft legs hook behind my own, her ankles cross beneath my ass, and she pulls.
Every sane thought flees from my mind as my body connects with hers. She’s wearing that silk night set again, but my bare chest can feel the hardened peaks of her breasts pressing against the fabric.
My hips buck ever so slightly, my heavy length jerking against her heat, and I feel her sharp inhale in response. I lean into her with a bruising kiss, taking as much of her as she will give.
There is no end, there’s just the continuous whirlpool of our lips as we meet in crashing waves.
“I think our five minutes are up,” she mutters between kisses.
“Are they? I’m not very good at being punctual.”
She giggles, and it sounds like fucking tinkling bells, mesmerizing me as I drink the sound directly from her lips.
Then it hits.
She lets out a sigh that speaks a thousand words.
Her lips tug in one final kiss, and I do everything I can to keep her there, sucking her bottom lip into mine until it releases with a pop. My forehead falls against hers, and her hand comes up to rest on my pecs. I have no doubt that she can feel the erratic beating of my heart.
I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t want to see what is written on her face. There are too many options, too many possibilities, but every single one of them is a potential blade ready to stab my soul.
“Parker…”
One word and my ribs hollow.
“I know.” I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice, try to keep my composure, but it’s hard. It’s hard because the woman I want, the woman I’ve always wanted, who has just given me a small slice of heaven, is taking the halo back, sending me back to Earth.
So, I take the coward’s way out. I roll off her and lie there, listening to her shift away. I feel the distance as the bed dips and rises from her movement. I squeeze my hands, fisting them so my nails dig into my palms.
The taste of cherry is still on my tongue, so I bite it—hard—until my teeth bring out little drops of blood and the metallic tang chases away the sweetness.
She doesn’t say another word, and I lie there listening to her breaths, counting them as they slow down. I don’t know how long it takes, but eventually she falls asleep.
I lie awake for hours.
I worry that if I fall asleep, I’ll wake up and find out everything was just a dream.
When the remnants of moonlight begin to fade and the first rays of sun start to filter into the room, I pull myself quietly out of the bed. I throw on a jumper and grab my laptop, heading onto the balcony. The icy wind bites into me, but I welcome it as I slump onto the lounge chair.
I open my laptop and lose myself to a game while praying that by the time the sun rises and Sydney wakes up, everything will be okay.
That those five minutes weren’t our last five minutes.
That maybe, just maybe, Eve will stay in the Garden of Eden.