Chapter 53 Parker
PARKER
Iswear my body is going to burst into flames at any moment.
I thought him having my vibrator and being in control of my orgasm was hot. But that had nothing on watching him slowly work himself.
His grip is tight, the muscles running down his corded forearm are taut, his abs are tense, and the V lines that cut down to his cock are deeper than ever.
He looks like my every dirty fantasy come to life.
With my vibrator pressed against my clit, my next release builds faster than I thought possible.
I can have multiples, but usually only when I’m alone.
I’ve never had more than one with a man.
They’ve never cared enough to bother. Linc, though, seems to care more about my pleasure than his own.
Something tells me that if I’d agreed, he’d have disappeared into the bathroom to find his release without a fuss.
I hate the idea of that. Especially after what he just gave me.
“Fuck, Parker,” he grunts as his pace begins to pick up.
“Oh god,” I moan, my legs widening until my thighs rest against the mattress.
His eyes are locked on what I’m doing with my vibrator, as if he’s learning what I like and how I touch myself.
“Are you going to come for me again, pretty girl?”
“Yes, yes,” I cry as my pussy contracts around nothing.
I need more. I need him.
Another moan rumbles up my throat as I imagine how it would feel if he shuffled forward and pushed himself inside me.
I want it.
I want it so badly, but…
If we go there, we can’t take it back.
I managed to put him behind me once. I’m not strong enough to do it again.
Just doing this is dangerous enough.
But more…
No.
I can’t.
I won’t survive it.
No matter what Kodie says, or the differences I see in Linc, it doesn’t mean that anything has changed.
He’s still Lincoln Storm, the ice hockey player who loves to party.
He’s still my big brother’s best friend.
He’s still my colleague.
I’ve barely got my feet under the table at work; the last thing I need is everyone talking about me being in a relationship with a player.
It’s one of the least professional things I could do.
I’d be a laughingstock.
Mitchell can’t take me seriously as it is. No one would have any respect for me after that.
Parker Donnelly only got the job with the LA Vipers because she’s in a secret relationship with star winger, Lincoln Storm.
“Fuck, are you there?” Linc rasps, his jaw tight as he holds himself on the edge.
I nod, although it’s not entirely the truth.
Skating my free hand down my stomach, I push two fingers inside myself.
“Christ,” he groans, his nostrils flaring as he watches me fuck myself. “Are you tight?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Bet you’d fucking strangle my dick in the best kind of way. I’d stretch you out so good, pretty girl.”
He fucking would, too.
I haven’t been with anyone else the size of him. I can only imagine how it would feel being full of him. I bet it would hurt in the most delicious kind of way.
“Linc,” I try, his words, the image they paint and the sensation of my fingers curling inside me enough to push me closer to the edge.
“Fuck, pretty girl. Can I…can I come on you?”
My heart slams against my ribs, and my orgasm crests.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I chant as I fall.
“Fuck, Parker. Fuuuck,” he groans as he finds his release.
Quickly, he shuffles forward as his cock jerks in his hand.
The moment his warm cum hits my stomach, another wave of my release crashes through me.
Holy shit, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
Linc’s body sags once his orgasm has subsided. His cum cools on my stomach, but I’m too exhausted to do anything about it.
“Fuck. That was—”
“Yeah,” I agree. “It was.”
He sits there with his chest heaving and his softening cock out. I’m no better; I don’t so much as make a move to close my legs.
“That wasn’t why I turned up at your hotel room door,” he explains after a couple of silent seconds.
“Sure it wasn’t.” I laugh, finally pulling my thighs together and hiding myself from him.
He pouts like a child who’s just had his favorite toy taken away, but he doesn’t say anything.
“It wasn’t,” he assures me. “I mean, I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought about it. But it wasn’t my intention.”
I nod, accepting his words as he climbs off the bed and tucks himself away.
I want to complain and beg him to strip down to nothing so I can ogle him, but I keep my mouth closed.
We’ve already done way more than we should tonight.
“I really couldn’t sleep. I…I missed you.”
“That’s cr—”
“Crazy, I know. Trust me, I know.”
Pushing up on my elbows, I glance down at the mess he left on my stomach.
“Wait. Don’t move,” he demands before he darts toward the bathroom.
The water runs for a minute or two, and then he’s back with a washcloth in his hand.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he crawls back onto the bed.
“Cleaning up my mess,” he explains.
I knew that. His intentions were obvious the second he emerged, but…
No guy has ever been like this after sex.
No. That’s not true.
No other man has ever been like this after sex.
Over the years, I’ve forced myself to forget the details of that night.
It was safer to lock it all up in a box and shove it to the back of my mind. But over the past few weeks, the lid has been lifting, and everything I’ve tried so hard to forget is beginning to surface.
“It’s the least I can do after…” He gestures between us.
“Is that your way of apologizing?” I ask lightly.
“Hell no. I’m not apologizing for something I’m not sorry about.”
My brows lift.
“That was…that was everything, Parker. There’s no fucking way I’m apologizing for getting to experience that.”
He finishes cleaning me up before getting off the bed again.
“What happens now?” I ask his retreating back.
He pauses, his muscles tensing.
“Now, you need to go to the bathroom, and then we’re sleeping.”
“Sleeping?” I question.
“Yeah, that’s what I came here for. I sleep better when you’re beside me, pretty girl.”
My eyes fall closed as warmth spreads through me at the use of that nickname I’ve only heard on one previous occasion.
He takes a couple of minutes in the bathroom, and when he returns, he jerks his chin in the direction he’s just come from, silently commanding me to go and do the same.
I stand on weak, post-orgasm legs and wobble my way toward the smaller room.
The second I close the door and catch my reflection in the mirror, I gasp.
My hair is like a bird’s nest on top of my head, my cheeks are still burning, and my bottom lip is swollen from biting on it.
I look…thoroughly satisfied.
It’s a good look on me.
I make quick work of what I need to do before attempting to smooth down my hair—hopelessly—before walking back out.
This time, my legs are steady, but the nerves are stronger in my stomach.
It’s just Linc, I tell myself.
Yeah, Linc, who just watched me get off twice.
And like he promised, he didn’t touch me once.
I shouldn’t be surprised; this is Linc we’re talking about.
A man who knows what he’s doing.
I turn the light off and immediately discover that he’s done the same in the bedroom. The only light, glowing from a bedside lamp.
I walk around the corner with my heart in my throat and confusion warring within me.
I believe that he didn’t turn up at my door hoping for a booty call. I’m completely to blame for what just went down in here. If I’d known, I’d have quickly put my vibrator away...or would I?
Deep down, did I leave it all there, knowing it was him and hoping something would happen? We both know it’s been building over the past few weeks. Despite not wanting to acknowledge it, it was inevitable, wasn’t it?
My head is spinning as I round the corner, but the second my eyes land on him, it stops. He’s resting back against the headboard with the sheets pooled low on his stomach, so low in fact, I question whether he still has his underwear on or not.
I don’t need to put much thought into which I’d prefer.
Lock it down, Donnelly.
Draw the line.
You’ve done enough.
Linc’s eyes track me as I move across the room and to the other side of the bed.
The air is heavy between us, but neither of us speaks as I pull the covers back and slip into bed with him.
The second I settle, I become achingly aware that I’m still not wearing any underwear.
Damn it.
Would it be weird to get back up now and put some on?
“Hey,” Linc says, interrupting my freak-out.
“H-hey,” I stutter. “Are you really sleeping here?”
“If you’ll let me.”
As much as I might be spinning out over all this, I’m not sure I’ve got it in me to send him away.
The truth is, I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep without him, either.
I may not want to admit it, but his presence calms me, and I’ve slept better than I have in ages the last few nights.
As much as I might want to say it’s the exhaustion that did it, I know that would be a lie.
“I’ll think about it,” I mumble as I sink lower and turn away from him.
As I expected, he shuffles closer in the blink of an eye. His arm wraps around my waist, tugging me against him until there’s not an inch of space between us.
“Again?” I gasp when I feel the press of his erection against my ass.
“I’m in bed with the hottest woman on the planet. And correct me if I’m wrong, but said woman isn’t wearing any underwear.”
Seconds pass where my silence does nothing but confirm his suspicions.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” I blurt.
“Maybe not. It was fucking good, though.”
I can’t help but smile.
“Listening to you get off is hot as fuck. But watching too…fucking hell, babe. You’ve ruined porn for me forever.”
Pride rushes through me, warming me from the inside out.
“You looked pretty hot, too,” I admit.
“Is that right?”
“Mmm,” I mumble, already feeling the first clutches of sleep on the horizon. I guess two powerful orgasms will do that to a girl.
“Just imagine what it could be like if I touched you.”
Yeah, just imagine.
His grip on me tightens as his lips brush the few inches of my shoulder exposed by his shirt.
“Goodnight, pretty girl,” he murmurs. “Sweet dreams. Make sure they’re of me.”