Chapter 28 Parker
PARKER
Linc stares at me. A small frown pinches his brows as he weighs his options.
For a moment, a little rejection trickles through my veins, but then I remember where we are and what we’re doing and it shifts to disappointment that for once in his life, he’s going to do the right thing.
He’s trying—in more ways than one—and I really appreciate what he’s doing.
“It’ll be okay. We should probably just head to bed.”
He’s right, but worry tugs at me.
“Let me just look quickly. I’ll worry all night otherwise.”
“You really don’t—’
“Please.”
He sighs.
“Okay,” he concedes before taking a step back.
“Strip down to your boxers and go lie on your bed.”
“Who says I’m wearing any?” he teases.
Images I shouldn’t have fill my eyes, and the second a smirk curls at the side of his mouth, I realize he can read my mind.
Goddamn him.
“I’m not coming near you if your balls are hanging free, Storm.”
“Aw, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he mocks as he tucks his thumbs into his sweats and shoves them down his legs, revealing his tight black boxer briefs beneath.
“You’re a nightmare,” I mutter under my breath.
“Nah, I’m pretty sure I spend more time in women’s dreams.”
“Christ.”
Grabbing my water bottle from the counter, I follow him toward his bedroom.
Linc’s house, especially his bedroom, is so different to what I was expecting when he first brought me here.
In my head, it was going to be a bachelor pad with clothes and takeout containers strewn everywhere. Posters of naked girls on the walls and pairs of panties hanging from lamps. But the reality is far from that.
This place is homey. From the moment I walked through the front door, I felt relaxed.
It doesn’t scream sex den or party pad. I could actually live here, which is a thought I really don’t need to have.
I also don’t need to get used to it, because the kind of place I’m going to be able to afford is going to feel like a cardboard box after this.
I may have been in his bedroom already, but today, the second I step over the threshold, it feels completely different.
The air is thick with tension, and I can only assume that’s because there is a half-naked Adonis of a man lying on the bed.
I run my eyes up his solid, muscular legs, pausing when I get to the bulge in the front of his boxers.
Walk away, Parker.
Go to your room and lock the door.
“Little P?” Linc questions, and the second I realize I’m standing here staring at his dick, my eyes dart to his and my face burns bright red.
“Sorry, I—”
“It’s okay. You look all you like.”
“Linc,” I warn as I move closer.
Despite knowing it’s the worst thing I can do, I’m drawn to him like a magnet.
“Tell me about your date,” he demands.
A laugh erupts. “You really don’t want to hear about that.”
“I do,” he argues.
What he means is he wants to know why I walked home in the rain, and probably why I looked so miserable when he found me dripping all over his expensive wooden floor.
“It…it wasn’t right,” I say as I trace up his adductor muscle, watching his reaction for any sign of pain.
“In what way?”
I sigh as I begin massaging the area he’s been struggling with.
In a way that I couldn’t put myself in a position of being with another man when I can’t get thoughts and memories of you out of my head.
“I don’t know,” I lie. “Seemed like a good idea through a screen. The reality wasn’t what I thought it would be.”
“He that unattractive, huh?”
“Not at all. In fact, he’s probably one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen.”
“Other than me, of course.”
“Good to see your ego hasn’t taken a hit,” I tease.
“You’d miss it.”
“Mmm.”
“So, are you seeing this guy again?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. He isn’t in town often.”
“You’ve met him before.”
“Uh huh,” I agree, keeping my eyes focused on the task at hand, afraid that if I look up, he might read too much.
“Ah, it was that kind of date,” he surmises.
“It was dinner,” I counter.
“You know, you’re a really bad liar, Parker.” My eyes dart to his. “Your neck goes all red and blotchy when you lie.”
“I’m not—”
“Sure. So this guy you went out with. He’s a regular hookup of yours, is he?”
“Linc, can we not?”
“What? We’re just two friends talking about our nights.”
“We’re not friends.”
His hand shifts to cover his heart as he gasps.
“Ouch.”
“Oh, come on. You know it’s true.”
“I’m not sure. There was a time when I considered you one of my best friends.”
My heart races, and I keep my eyes locked on my fingers.
“That was a long time ago. We’re…we’re different people now. Want different things.”
“Is that right? Because some days, I can’t help but wish I could turn back time and have a do-over.”
“Stop, please,” I beg.
“You think about it, don’t you?”
“No,” I snap, refusing to go down this road with him. “I forgot about it years ago, put it into the correct box, and moved on with my life.”
“Yeah,” he muses. “I watched.”
I stand tall, my hand slipping away from his skin.
“You don’t get to say things like that.”
“It’s true, though.”
“Fuck’s sake, Linc.”
“I’m sorry, can you just keep going? It feels better.”
I hesitate, questioning everything.
“Please. I need to play our next day.”
“Blackmail isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
“I just want to get back on the ice,” he pleads.
“Fine. Fine. Can you just…I don’t know, not talk?”
“Never been one of my talents.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“Just so you know,” he starts, and I squeeze my eyes closed because I know I’m not going to like whatever comes next. “I never put anything about you in a box and forgot about it. I never will, either.”
“Fuck,” I breathe, and when I open my eyes, I regret not putting an end to this sooner.
The bulge in his boxers is bigger than before. He’s…fuck.
I stumble back.
“I can’t do this, Linc,” I say, keeping my eyes downcast. “I’m your roommate and your trainer. I can’t…we can’t go back in time. We can’t be those kids again. What happened...it—”
“No, we can’t. But we can be us now.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, and I finally look up. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed with his hair a mess, strands hanging over his face as he looks up at me through his lashes.
“You’re delusional.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah,” I insist as he pushes to his feet and stalks closer, although not before he sinks his hand into his boxers to adjust himself.
Fuck.
Heat descends through my body like an out-of-control inferno.
I went out tonight to get laid, and instead I ended up walking home in the rain.
And for what?
To end up even more frustrated by the man I’m currently living with.
Moving in here was a bad idea.
“Little P,” he says, closing the space between us.
My hand darts out, and I press my palm against his chest. It looks tiny compared to his huge frame.
But despite my lack of strength and small stature, he instantly freezes.
“Look at me,” he demands.
I don’t.
“Parker, I said look at me.” His voice is deep and commanding, leaving me powerless but to follow his orders.
Our eyes collide, and the air crackles between us.
Mimicking his move from earlier, he lifts his hand and tucks a lock of loose hair behind my ear. My tumbling curls are no more; instead, it’s a frizzy mess. My makeup isn’t faring much better, either. The outside of me looks as bedraggled as my insides feel.
“Whatever you need, all you need to do is ask. I told you once before, and I’ll tell you again, I’ll do anything for you, Parker. Anything.”
A sob erupts, and I squeeze my eyes closed to try to ward off the threatening tears.
These aren’t the words I need to hear. Not from a man who spends his life collecting puck bunnies like they're going out of fashion.
He’s a player in every sense of the word, and in one way or another, they always break your heart.
I stopped it from happening six years ago. I protected myself and got out before I fell in too deep. I doubt I’ll be strong enough to do the same thing twice.
The heat from his body burns down my front, and his warm breath tickles over my skin, making my nipples pebble behind the soft fabric of my tank.
It would be so easy to fall into something stupid here.
So fucking easy.
When he steps forward, his body bumping mine, my eyes fly open and I jump back. Only I don’t get very far because I hit the wall.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Parker. Always have been,” he whispers, his voice floating around me like a prayer.
“Linc, please.” The words fall from my lips without instruction from my brain. It’s my pussy talking, my desperation to get off and ride that high for a few blissful seconds.
His hips press against mine, allowing me to feel his hardness. Heat floods my core as my clit pounds in time with my racing heart.
“God, Parker. I fucking dream about hearing you beg me.”
He leans closer, and my fingers twist in his T-shirt.
Pull him closer.
Push him away.
Take what you need.
Protect your heart.
Your job.
You’re—
“No,” I cry a beat before his lips brush mine.
I dart from my position pinned between him and the wall and run toward the exit.
“Shit. Parker. I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry, alright?”
“I know, Linc. I know,” I cry as I race toward my door and swing it closed. The slam echoes around the bedroom.
My chest heaves as my heart continues to race. His scent still floods my nose, and my core continues to beg for what could have been.
I stare at the door, fear trickling through my veins. But it’s not strong enough. I need a barrier between us.
You did the right thing.
You did the right thing.
But no matter how many times I tell myself this, I struggle to believe it.
“Fuck’s sake,” I hiss as I surge forward and grab the tote bag I carried home earlier.
After I gave up on my date, I asked the driver to take me to a street with one of my favorite stores. No sooner was I out of the car, I was walking through the front door. I ignored all the pretty lingerie that I’d usually wander through, and I walked straight to the back of the store.
I might need new underwear, but it’s obvious that I don’t have any need for anything that sexy. I can’t even show up for dinner with a man, let alone anything else.
I went straight for what I want like a woman on a mission, just like I do now as I tug at the packaging.
There’s a little voice in my head that warns me that it won’t have enough charge, but I push it aside. Something has to go my way tonight.
“Goddamn it,” I mutter as I battle with the almost impossible-to-open plastic. I need scissors, but I am not going back out there to find some.
Thankfully, I locate some nail clippers in the bathroom, and it’s enough to make a hole so I can rip into the packaging.
In seconds, I’m shoving my sleep shorts down my legs and climbing onto my bed.
Please, please, last long enough to get me there.
I press the little button, and the toy in my hand buzzes to life.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I spread my legs and touch the tip of it to my clit.
I swear my gasp sucks all the air from the room.
Pushing it lower, I groan before pushing the tip inside.
My muscles clamp down, sucking it deeper as images of what could have happened in the room next door only moments ago fill my mind.