Chapter 33 Summer
Parker. Effing. Woods.
I’ve never met a more infuriating man. Anyone so adept at weaseling under my skin, raising my blood pressure.
He insisted I go on that date only to crash it. Who the hell does that?
It doesn’t matter that I had precisely zero intention of hooking up with Grant, touching Grant, doing absolutely anything with Grant.
We’d gotten to the restaurant he picked out, saw it was shut down for a private party, and after a stroll along the boardwalk, I invited him over for a drink so that the night wasn’t a complete wash for both of us.
As much of a dead end as it was, after the things Denny said to me and the way Parker shut down after Grant asked me out, Grant’s attention felt… nice. Even if just for the night.
And in came Parker effing Woods. Territorial, yet unwilling to admit to any sort of feelings for me.
I adjust my position in bed, growling up at the dark ceiling when it doesn’t help any. I’d been out for revenge with that make out. Planned to rile him up, lead him an inch from the edge before telling him to get lost while he begged me to finish the job.
What I failed to factor in was the state in which I’d be leaving myself in the process.
“Come on, you stupid thing. I just need one. One teeny tiny little orgasm.”
Still nothing. With a sob of frustration, I stab my thumb at the toy between my thighs, killing the vibration and tossing it into the pile of equally useless silicone on the other end of the bed.
Five vibrators. I’ve tried five, and none of them have managed to perform the single duty they were put on this earth to do. I haven’t had one shred of relief since Parker left my apartment hours ago, and I’ve officially ascended to fresh levels of rage.
And that rage has closed in on a single, infuriating, six-foot-three target.
All rational thought has left my body. I’m hangry. Hangry for an orgasm, and I’ll be damned if Parker Woods gets his unperturbed beauty rest while I suffer across the street.
Screw that.
I toss the comforter off my body, pull on a pair of shorts.
Grab my things, seeing red as I slam my front door on the way out.
The main strip is dark and deserted—the mass exodus from Oakley’s happened right around the time my third vibrator failed me.
I march across the street and into Parker’s building, practically stomping up the stairs to his front door.
Inside, Parker’s bedroom door smashes into the wall from the force with which I throw it open. He lets out a shout and the shape of him jerks upright, reaching for his bedside table.
The soft light turns on, his alarmed gaze finds me. And he grunts when my projectile hits him square in the chest.
Parker squints at me, glasses on his bedside table. “Summer? What the hell’s going on?”
“Do you know what that is?” He sorts through the sheets fallen around his hips, pulling free the purple, palm-sized vibrator I just launched at him.
“That’s my best vibrator. My best one. It’s never let me down.
And you know what it did for me tonight?
” I throw out my arms, my purse dangling from a hand. “Absolutely nothing.”
Parker stares at the vibrator, completely nonplussed. “And why are you—”
“And neither did this one.” I shove a hand into my purse, fingers closing around another toy and then flinging it at Parker. “Or this one.” He gets hit with another. “Or this one, or even this one.”
Parker sits calmly as silicone missiles rain down on him. He’s shirtless, his body mouthwatering and skin golden from our time in the sun. Hair rumpled in such an infuriatingly sexy way. How dare he look this good after being startled awake by uncooperative sex toys?
He reaches for the one by his hip, a sparkly pink approximation of a dick that only entered the rotation a couple of months ago. “Cute.”
“Now’s not the time for your little jokes, Parker.” I march into the room, tossing my purse on the foot of his bed.
A slow smirk curls the corner of his mouth. “Is this what you’ve been doing since I left? Playing with your toys?” He picks up another one, a rose-gold suction toy. Clicks it on and examines it with interest.
Then it hits me, what I’ve just done.
The utter insanity of having charged across the street in the middle of the night to pelt my best friend with sex toys. I drop onto the mattress, facing away from him. A laugh bubbles out of me.
It’s official: Parker Woods has broken me.
“You’ve done it. You’ve pushed me right past the brink of sanity and into the land of loopy, horny women who assault their inconveniently hot best friends in the middle of the night. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”
“You think I’m inconveniently hot?”
He’s so smug about it. I can tell without even looking at him.
“Of course, that’s what you retain in all that.
You know, I never asked for any of this.
All I wanted to do this summer was focus on surfing, maybe have a little fun along the way.
And here I am, emotionally and physically edged by my own best friend.
Down a few orgasms. With a pile of broken sex toys. ”
“A little fun,” Parker echoes. “And who, exactly, did you plan on having fun with?”
I snort, getting to my feet. “Why? So you can fake another disease to drive him away?”
“So I can convince you to pick me instead.”
Parker’s voice has gone low, and when I turn to look at him, I see he’s lost all traces of humor. He’s on his feet, his eyes doing that dark, lusty thing. The one that makes it impossible to move. Like he’s pumped me full of lead, while every step he takes toward me has my heart pounding harder.
“You want fun, Summer? I’ll give you fun.
Say the word and I’ll have you strapped to this bed until the sun comes up.
Make you come so many times, and so many fucking ways, you won’t even know where you are anymore.
And in the morning, I’ll send you off with a thoroughly fucked pussy and pretty marks around your wrists to stare at all day, until you’re barging in here again.
A desperate, needy mess at my door, begging for more. And then I’ll fuck you all over again.”
Parker comes to a stop right in front of me, forcing me to tip my head back to keep looking him in the eye. His body heat bridges the distance between us, licking at me, spiking my own temperature to unbearable levels. “That sound fun enough to you?”
A gust of air rushes from my lungs. “Have you always had a mouth on you?”
“It’s something you seem to have inspired in me.” There’s nothing like the satisfaction of hearing that. Parker’s gaze bounces from spot to spot on my body, trying to decide where to sink his teeth first. “All you have to do is ask.”
This will probably turn out to be the mistake of all mistakes. There’s the risk of misplaced attachment and hurt feelings and destroyed friendships.
But my brain is rioting, my body a greedy mess. His lusty eyes, dark like the raging sea, will me to surrender. Demand the grand finale to the unbearable tension that’s burgeoned between us.
We could do this. Survive this.
Just a little fun. Just once.
“You flirt a big game, Parker.” I reach into my purse and pull out a bundle of coiled white rope, the kind we use to secure our boards to his car. I press it into the center of his chest. “Time to deliver.”