12. Parker
12
PARKER
W atching Anders subtly dominate Henry was quite possibly one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
Anders is a beautiful man. Tall, fit, and attractive, his features scream Viking, accentuated by his blond hair that he had pulled up into a tight man bun on the top of his head. I’m not sure how old he is, maybe mid- to late-thirties, with a few lines at the corners of his eyes that crinkle when he smiles.
Sitting beside Henry, he kind of looks like a Norse god, cozied up next to a fairy, and the image is just perfection. I have no idea if Henry is attracted to Danny’s teammate and friend, but I really hope he is, because I’m not sure that Anders is the type of guy who would accept no for an answer.
I’ve always found the idea of two men together incredibly erotic. There’s something about the sensual masculinity that makes my pussy pulse and my panties wet.
At some point, as I watched Anders watch Henry, I reached for Danny, needing to touch him to ground myself, and he didn’t stop me. I was in the middle of explaining my Danny situation to Henry when he and Anders arrived, so I never even got the chance to tell him enough of my drama that I could get my new friend’s perspective on the whole situation. Not that I think he’ll have even noticed me and Danny while he has Anders’s attention focused on him.
After we’d all eaten, Danny offered Anders his car so he could drive Henry home, but Henry refused. It was clear to see that Anders wasn’t happy about letting Henry ride the bus, but he insisted, and none of us have known him long enough to force him to accept the ride.
After I got home, I headed straight upstairs to take a shower. My coveralls might protect me from the worst of the dirt, grease, and oil, but I never feel clean until I’ve scrubbed my skin raw.
It’s nearly ten p.m. and I have to be up again early in the morning, but I feel too amped up to sleep. I know Danny would agree to game with me if I asked, but I don’t want to risk us slipping back into the awkwardness that’s plagued us since the airport. At the diner, everything felt back to normal between us, and I’d rather hide away if it means us getting back to our old easy friendship quicker.
Or at least that’s the lie I’m telling myself. The truth is that I’m not sure we can go back to the blissful ignorance of pretending we’re only friends, but I’m determined to try.
Slipping beneath my comforter, I grab my cell and open up the farming game that I’m a little obsessed with, and start to harvest veggies and send off airplanes full of goodies. An hour later, I’ve done everything I can do and lost all of my lives, so I switch to Netflix and spend thirty minutes trying to decide what to watch. In the end, I put on Gilmore Girls , not really excited to watch it, but knowing that as one of my comfort shows, I can watch it over and over again from start to finish without getting bored.
It’s really late by the time I decide to try to sleep. Turning off my cell, I slip down the bed until my head is on the pillow, then flip to my side, pulling my hands up to rest beneath my cheek. Closing my eyes, I wait for oblivion to claim me, but it doesn’t. Instead, my mind decides that right now is the perfect time to remind me of how I felt when Danny came into my room the other night, and watched and helped me get myself off.
The moment I think about him pushing his fingers into my mouth, memories of the way his skin tasted and the tiny moan he made when I sucked his digits like they were his dick.
A needy pulse of remembered desire blooms to life low in my stomach, but I ignore it. Opening my eyes, I flip to my other side, then close them again, like I can reset my thoughts. The feeling of his hand on mine while he guided the toy in and out of my sex bursts into my head, and I have to squeeze my thighs to stifle the wanton urges that push me to reach over and find something to play with in my drawer full of sex toys.
I wasn’t lying when I told Danny I have a lot of toys. I do. I’m young, single, and have urges that are not being met. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing wrong with taking matters into my own hands.
I’ll admit that what started off a few years ago as a desire to make myself come developed into a little bit of a collection. But honestly, can you ever have too many choices when it comes to a plastic cock? Sometimes, when I’ve killed as many online bad guys as I can cope with, I like to read. Sometimes I pick real crime thrillers, and sometimes I pick shifter porn and blue alien smut.
Variety is the spice of life, and so is the ability to pick between a human-style cock and one that might be described as more of a tentacle or a knotted alpha dick. I also have a selection of things that buzz, flick, and suck, and when I’m in the mood, I’ve been known to peruse my collection like a wine connoisseur might wander through his cellar, deciding what particular flavor and vintage she fancies that night.
Tonight, I don’t need to think too hard about what I need. Before I can convince myself otherwise, I lean over the side of the bed, open the bottom drawer on my bedside cabinet, and root around until I find my thick, long vibrator that stretches me in the absolute perfect way. It’s probably my favorite toy, because I always feel that warm, fuzzy, satisfied feeling once I’ve finished.
Grabbing a bottle of lube, I start to close the drawer, then go back and pull out my wand too. Using both at the same time does require me to be fairly ambidextrous, but if I roll onto my stomach and position the wand beneath me, I should be able to keep it on my clit while I play with the vibrator.
Coating the silicone cock with lube, I glance at the door, making sure it’s closed before I throw off the covers, roll onto my hands and knees, and drag my pillows beneath me. Positioning the wand on the pillows, I lower myself down until it’s pressed against my clit, then turn it on.
A soft huff of pleasure falls from my mouth as the first roll of vibration lands on my clit. If I was looking for a low-key orgasm—some days I am—I’d grind against my wand until I came. But tonight, that won’t be enough. Tonight, I need an eye-watering, leg-shaking release. Pulling one of my knees up, I make space to push my hand and the toy between my legs, finding my entrance and pushing it deep inside of me.
Being filled with a cock always feels good. But there’s something about taking a big cock—real or fake—that makes my belly clench in this deliciously decadent way. If I met and fell in love with a guy with a small dick, I’d cope, it’s not all about size. But I’d definitely miss the stretch and hint of pain that accompanies your body accepting the intrusion of something that’s just a little bit too big.
Pulling my hand back, I grunt when I realize my leg is in the way, and I’m going to have to accept that if I stay in this position, I’ll only be able to give short thrusts rather than long, hard ones. For a second, I consider moving, but the wand against my clit feels amazing, and the fullness of the toy in my pussy is too good to stop.
Moving my arm as far as I can, I pull the toy out, then push it back in, starting slowly, because I don’t want to come too soon.
When I hear what sounds like the click of the door opening, I freeze, then shake off the feeling and keep moving. There’s no way that Danny is in my room right now. He wouldn’t come to me after I rejected him. Albeit inadvertently, but still.
“Let me help.”
His gravelly, low voice doesn’t startle me, because even though I was denying it to myself, I knew he was in here.
Gently pushing my hand away, he grips the base of the toy and slowly—so freaking slowly I want to scream—pulls it out of me until only the thick head is spreading my entrance wide. I don’t breathe until he shoves the toy back into me in one fluid movement, pushing me forward with the force.
A guttural moan of pleasure slips from my lips, but before I can think to be embarrassed or tell him we can’t do this, he pulls the toy out to the tip, then shoves it back into me again. Over and over, he fucks me with my favorite dildo, pounding it into me while the wand that’s pressed against my clit buzzes relentlessly.
“Scream,” he demands, changing the angle of the toy and thrusting it in and out of me until I’m pushing back against it, meeting it slam for slam, and begging for more. I don’t even realize my orgasm has hit until I’m screaming his name and wetness is slicking down the inside of my legs.
A part of me expects him to pull the toy free, taste it, then push it into my mouth like he did last time. But instead, he pushes the toy into me all the way to the base and holds it in place while he reaches beneath me to the wand. Turning the vibration up and up and up, he forces pleasure on me until I’m squirming and coming and wiggling on the bed, screaming so loudly, the entire neighborhood will hear.
When he finally, thankfully, turns the wand off, he drags the dildo slowly out of me, drawing it up and parting my ass cheeks with the wet length. I squeal when he slaps my ass with it, then drops it to the mattress. Leaning down, he presses a kiss to my cheek, gets up, and leaves.
I still feel shell-shocked when I open my eyes the next morning. I fell asleep almost immediately after he left last night, but my dreams were filled with reenactments of the two nights we’ve now spent together.
He came to me last night. He slipped into my room like he’d known exactly when I’d given in and decided to make myself come. Then he helped like it was his right to touch me, and I let him, because despite all of my good intentions, there’s no way I’d ever tell him no.
But I don’t know what last night means in the light of day. Will he tell me he wants me again, or will we just be two awkward people not mentioning the dildo-shaped elephant in the room?
Silencing my alarm, I slip out of bed and quickly get dressed into shorts and a tank again. When the weather gets cooler, I’ll need more clothes on beneath my coveralls, but for now, this is plenty.
Padding silently across the landing, I slip into the bathroom and flip on the light. Turning on the faucet, I wash my face, then brush my teeth, before brushing my hair and twisting it into two tight braids, one on either side of my head.
Not bothering with makeup, I coat my lips in a shiny balm, then turn off the light and head downstairs. Sitting on the counter in the kitchen is a bakery box with a note resting on the top.
Parker, these are the best muffins you’ll ever eat. Have a good day. Danny xoxo
Opening the box, I find a huge lemon-and-poppyseed muffin. Lifting it out, I eat it and refuse to question why Danny is leaving me gifts or what it might mean. But just like his note said, it’s the best muffin I’ve ever had. Quickly setting a pot of coffee to brew, I pull out my thermal mug and fill it with the rich liquid, topping it up with creamer and adding a heaping spoonful of sugar. I love coffee, but my version is sweet and creamy and incredibly bad for me, but I don’t care.
Pushing my feet into my sneakers, I grab my car keys then slip out of the house, grateful that Danny sleeps late when he’s not at work. I spend the drive down to town thinking about what happened the night before and how to deal with it.
He didn’t whisper words of love or lust or really say anything to me. He came into my room, fucked me with a sex toy until I was screaming, tortured me with a vibrating wand until I was a wet, limp mess, then he kissed me on the cheek and left again.
What does that even mean?
Friends don’t just help friends masturbate, that’s not a thing, so what does it mean that Danny’s done it twice now?
Blinking, I realize I’m already in town. Turning off the street and into the garage’s parking lot, I realize I have no memory of the drive here. I haven’t lived here long enough to have commuters’ amnesia, but I must have been so focused on my internal confusion that I barely remember driving the winding mountain roads. This is what Danny does to me. It’s what he’s always done to me; he consumes me so all of my thoughts revolve around him. It’s why I know that if I allow him to become more than a friend, I’ll never recover when it all inevitably goes to shit.
Grabbing my bag with my coveralls and work boots out of the trunk, I lock my car, then slip under the half-open shutter and into the shop.
“Morning,” Bay Barnett calls, his upper body already bent over the engine of a car.
“Morning.”
“We’ve got a busy one today. I’ve already had one breakdown this morning, and I just got a call about another. Have you ever driven a recovery truck?”
“Yeah, my dad had one.”
“Thank fuck. Are you okay with heading over to the Conister guesthouse? One of Evelyn’s guests’ cars won’t start. From what they said, it sounds like the starter motor, but if you pick it up and bring it back here, we can have a proper look. Take Henry with you. I don’t like the idea of you going alone, just in case.”
“I’m more than?—”
“I’m aware how capable you are,” Bay interrupts, standing up and taking a step away from the car he’s working on. “But as a woman, you’re more vulnerable alone, so you’ll take Henry, or I’ll go, and you can stay here and finish this. I don’t give a fuck if I’m being sexist when it’s for your safety,” Bay says, his tone absolutely no nonsense.
A part of me wants to argue, but as much as I hate to admit it, as a woman alone, I am more vulnerable. Sighing, I nod. “I’ll go and get Henry,” I mutter, pulling my coveralls on over my clothes and swapping out my sneakers for my boots.
“Any problems, give me a call,” Bay says.
“Okay.”
Stashing my bag in my locker, I open the office door and step inside. “Hey Henry.”
“Morning, Parker, how are you?” Henry asks, his sweet smile instantly cooling some of my ire.
“I’m good, thanks. Bay wants you to come with me to a breakdown call.”
“Me?” he squeaks.
“Yeah, he thinks I’m vulnerable going alone.”
“Oh,” Henry says, then nods. “That makes sense. Not sure I’ll be much help if there’s a problem, but I’ll bring my bag. I have pepper spray and a taser.”
“You have a taser?” I ask, shocked.
“Public transport is terrifying, plus I’m small and gay, and sometimes when people look at me, they just see a target.”
Exhaling slowly, I nod. “I get it. The world can be a shitty place.”
Shrugging, he rises to his feet, smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt and slacks. I follow him into the break room while he grabs his bag, then we walk together back into the main shop.
“Where are the keys for the recovery truck?” I ask Bay.
“Lockbox on the wall,” he shouts, pointing over his shoulder to where the keys for all the cars are kept.
Locating the truck’s keys, I lead the way out of the shop and around to the parking lot behind the building. Unlocking the recovery truck, I Google the guesthouse we’re going to, then turn on the ignition and pull out onto the street.
“Dinner was fun last night, I’d like to do it again soon if you want to,” I say.
“I’d like that. I’m not great with new people, but…” He trails off like he’s not sure if he should say what he’d intended to.
“I don’t know why, but it feels like we’ve known each other before, not like we only met yesterday,” I say.
“Yes,” Henry quickly agrees, a soft smile curling the corners of his lips.
“Soooo.” I drag out the word. “What did you think of Anders?”
“He’s terrifying,” Henry blurts, then slaps his hand over his mouth.
“Like terrifyingly hot? Because that man is gorgeous.” I giggle.
“He looks like he should be in that show, Vikings. I’ve never met anyone with hair that naturally blond,” Henry says, a slight pink hue tingeing his cheeks.
“Do you like him?” I tentatively ask.
“You never finished telling me about Danny,” Henry deflects.
“I was talking about Anders,” I deflect right back.
“Yeah, but you were in the middle of telling me what happened between you guys when they showed up last night. So, you have to finish first.”
“Fine,” I sigh. “Where did I get to?”
“You got to the stupid bit about you not being hot enough for him,” Henry says, arching his eyebrow sassily at me.
“Well, you saw him. I mean, on the hot scale, he’s exploding through the roof, and I’m…well, I’m not.”
“Parker, you’re absolutely stunning. All booty and boobs. I’d say you’re pretty even on the attractiveness scale, although looks are only skin deep, you know that, right?”
“I know,” I sigh. “But the worst thing is that he’s a great person too. He’s the trifecta. Good-looking, great personality, and great soul.”
“And he said he liked you. Right?” Henry asks.
Exhaling, my shoulders slump. “Yeah, he did, but I don’t think he likes me, likes me. I don’t think he likes me the way I like him, and I don’t want to risk our friendship on a meaningless fling. Sex is great, but I can give myself orgasms. I can’t find a new best friend, and it could only be a fling.”
“Do you know that?” Henry asks.
Before I have a chance to answer, the guesthouse comes into view with a family leaning against an SUV parked at the curb.
It doesn’t take long to get their car hooked onto the tow truck, and ten minutes later, we’re on our way back to the garage with the husband sitting beside Henry in the truck’s cab. The rest of the family agreed to walk into town to get breakfast while he came back to the shop with us, just in case the repair was a quick fix.
Once we get back to the garage, Henry slips out of the cab and disappears into the office with a quick wave, and we don’t get a chance to finish our conversation for the rest of the day. It turns out that the breakdown was a quick fix—just a broken cable that I quickly replaced and got the family on their way.
But just like Bay said it would, the day’s workload stayed heavy. After attending the second breakdown, we had two walk-in repairs as well as the scheduled work that had been planned for the day. It’s almost eight p.m. by the time we have everything finished.
“Great work today, Parker. I appreciate you staying late to help me get everything finished. Make sure you let Henry know that you did overtime so he can add it when he does payroll,” Bay says, stripping out of his coveralls beside me in the break room. Unlike me, Bay has jeans and a Barnett Brothers Autos T-shirt on beneath his, and he drops his coveralls into a laundry bin, ready for the cleaning service to collect.
“No problem, I love being busy, it makes the day go quick.”
“I know it’s late, but did you want to join me and my family for dinner tonight? Missy and the rest of the girls are excited to meet you.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you. I’d love to,” I say, genuinely looking forward to meeting his wife and the rest of the Barnett clan that I’ve heard so much about.
“Great. Why don’t you head on home and drop your car off, and I’ll come over with the golf cart and pick you up?” Bay says.
“Do I have time to get changed?” I ask, wrinkling my nose at the ground-in dirt still coating my fingers despite having just washed my hands.
“Of course. Just give me a call once you’re ready.”
“Okay, great. Thanks, Bay.”
Grabbing my bag, I climb into my car and head home. The lights are on, and the sound of the TV greets me as I open the front door.
“Hey, how was your day?” Danny asks the moment I step inside.
“It was great. Busy, we were non-stop,” I tell him, kicking off my shoes. “Bay invited me to join him and his family for dinner.”
“I know,” Danny says. “He asked me too.”
“He did?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, okay, cool,” I say, sounding weird. “Well, I’m going to jump in the shower and clean up.”
“Okay. I told Bay we’d walk over to their place. It’s not far.”
“Okay,” I agree, climbing the stairs and heading straight into the bathroom.
The moment I close the door behind me, I exhale a ragged breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. With my day being so busy, I haven’t had time to worry about how to behave around Danny. But the moment I walked through the door, heard his voice and saw his epically beautiful face, everything that happened last night jumped into my mind.
He came into my room and fucked me with a vibrator until I was screaming. He made me come with my own toys over and over, then left me a wet, satisfied mess with just a kiss on the cheek. I guess a part of me thought he’d behave differently, that he’d feel as weird around me as I do around him. But he seems fine, normal even. How is he so unaffected when I’m freaking out just thinking about it?
I guess his behavior has answered my unasked questions about how he feels about our nightly escapades. It seems like he really has just been coming into my room to help me out. Is that a thing? Friendly orgasm assistor?
Stripping quickly out of my clothes, I drop them into the hamper by the door, then reach in and turn on the shower. Snatching my hand out of the way before even a drop of cold water touches me, I wait until steam fills the room before I step under the stream, exhaling happily when the warmth melts my muscles into goo.
I force myself to wash my hair and clean myself quicker than I want to, then dart across the landing with a bath towel wrapped around me. Considering Danny has already seen me very naked and exposed, I probably shouldn’t worry about him catching me in a towel after a shower. But what happens in the middle of the night has started to feel very separate from the way we interact in the daylight hours.
He’s proved twice now that he can touch me sexually, then act like nothing has happened, and maybe it’s time I followed his lead. The sensible part of my brain says I should address last night and tell him we’re friends and nothing more. But the rest of my heart, body, and soul that’s completely in love with him, doesn’t care about being sensible.
Dressed in ripped jeans and a cropped T-shirt, I head downstairs barefoot, my hands finger combing some product into my hair to activate the natural curl pattern.
“You ready?” Danny asks, pushing to his feet, his eyes running over me in a way that feels almost predatory. My skin prickles in response, but I ignore my reaction, and instead smile and nod.
“I just need to grab my shoes.”
“Perfect, I’m starving.”
It’s almost nine p.m., and my stomach is growling as we leave the house. Danny leads me up the hill toward the Barnetts’ enormous log home, which seems to be spread out in every direction.
“After the guys all started finding their wives, they built on to the main house so they could all have enough space and privacy to still live together.”
“All seven families live here?” I ask.
“Yep. It’s complete carnage.” Danny laughs, reaching for my hand and tugging me toward the front door. It opens before we have a chance to knock, and a guy who looks like a younger version of Penn and Bay stands in the doorway.
“Hey guys,” he greets. “You must be Parker, I’m Teddy Barnett. It’s great to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Hi Teddy, it’s nice to meet you too,” I say politely.
“Come on in. Dinner’s ready,” he says, stepping aside and motioning for us to go in.
Danny and Teddy shake hands before Danny places his palm on the base of my spine and guides me into the house. The touch is entirely innocent, but my body reacts like he just copped a feel.
Flushed, I swallow down the wanton moan that threatens to burst between my lips and keep moving, hoping someone will come and distract me from my internal freakout. Blinking, I look around and spot a sea of faces.
Penn strides forward, smiling widely. “Hey, Parker, let me introduce you to everyone.” Ushering Danny out of the way, he urges me to follow him over to a gorgeous woman carrying a baby in her arms.
“Parker, I’d like you to meet my wife Lulu and our daughter Marigold,” Penn says, looking at his wife and child with so much love it’s staggering.
“Hi, Parker,” Lulu says. “It’s so nice to meet you. Penn and Bay haven’t shut up about how excited they are to have you working with them since your interview.”
“It’s nice to meet you too. Your daughter is so cute,” I say, smiling at the beautiful, dark-haired little girl who immediately smiles back.
“We do make beautiful babies,” Lulu says, passing the little girl off to Penn as she rubs her stomach.
“You okay, Mama?” Penn asks, his brows furrowing in concern.
“I’m fine, you know how I get at this stage,” Lulu answers, brushing off her husband’s concern. “I’m pregnant again,” she says, turning back to me. “I always get this achy spot on my side, you’d think we’d be used to it by now, but Penn always freaks out.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she says as another little girl runs over to us, wrapping her arms around Lulu’s legs.
“Mama,” the little one says.
“Hey, baby, are you okay?” Lulu asks.
“Mavvy took my doll,” she says, pulling away from her mom’s legs far enough to flash tear-filled eyes up at her.
“Were you playing with it?”
“No, but it’s mine,” the little one protests.
“Yes, but we all share, don’t we? Were you playing with another toy?” Lulu asks calmly.
The little girl nods solemnly.
“Then you can let Mavvy play with your doll for a little while, can’t you?”
Sighing and pouting, the little girl nods, then rushes away shouting, “Mavvy, Mama says you have to give me my doll back.”
“I’m sorry, excuse me,” Lulu says as she strides across the room. “Poppy Barnett, that is not at all what I said,” she calls.
Penn laughs softly, cuddling his daughter to his chest while he watches Lulu chase after the little girl. “That was Poppy, our eldest. She’s normally in bed by now, but all the kids wanted to stay up until Uncle Bay got home.”
“You have two girls?” I question.
“We have five girls,” Penn says, a proud smile stretched wide across his lips.
“Five,” I gasp.
“With two more on the way.”
“Twins?”
“Our third set,” Penn says, proudly puffing his chest out.
Blinking, I stare at him for a minute. “Five kids with two more on the way, that’s…”
“Crazy,” he answers for me.
“I wasn’t?—”
“It’s fine, it is crazy,” Penn says before I can speak. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love seeing my wife pregnant, and if I had my way, I’d fill this entire place with kids, but she says this is our last.”
“I think seven is probably plenty,” I say, then slap my hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry,” I garble.
“It’s fine.” He waves away my faux pas. “Let me introduce you to everyone else, then we can eat.”
Fifteen minutes later, my head is spinning as I take my seat beside Danny at the huge wooden table. Penn introduced me to all his brothers, their wives, and even pointed out all the many, many kids. He assured me no one expected me to remember any of their names, but I already feel bad for forgetting so many.
Before I came here, I was not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. When Danny told me about them all living together, I think I envisioned a sort of hippie, cult-type feeling, but it’s not like that at all.
It’s crazy and loud and hectic, but it’s very clearly a home filled with love, and despite having no clue who is who, I feel settled and instantly accepted here. When the women are all settled at the table and the kids who are still awake are either sitting at the table, in highchairs, or happily playing in playpens, the guys, including Danny, all jump up and start to fetch food from the kitchen.
When I glance around, wondering if I should help, one of the women shakes her head at me. “Let them do it. They’ll only usher you back into your seat if you try to help,” she says with a smile. “I think I’d been living here for six months before they even let me load the dishwasher. I’m Bonnie, by the way. Beau is my husband.”
“I’m sorry. I know we were already introduced.”
“There’s so many of us, sometimes I forget everyone’s names,” she says, and the rest of the women all laugh.
“How are you enjoying working at the auto shop?” a different woman asks.
“It’s only my second day, but I love it so far. I learned how to fix cars working with my dad. After he passed, I tried to keep his shop open, but no matter how many times we show the world women are just as capable of doing typically male jobs as men are, some people just aren’t accepting. After I closed his shop, I took a job at a chain garage, but it was awful, and the guys I worked with were assholes. After I quit, Danny suggested I come here. So far, no one seems to care that I have a vagina,” I say with a shrug and a mirthless laugh.
“Fuck anyone who questions your abilities just because you’re a girl,” Lulu says loudly.
“Agreed,” a different woman says.
Suddenly the sound of Beyoncé’s “Run the World” screams into existence, and a giggle slips from my lips. Soon we’re all laughing, singing, and having a cliché, girl power moment, and I love it.
The guys place all the food on the table and sit down before the song ends. Once the last chord finishes, dishes of food start being passed around, and the family-style chaos ensues.
“Any chance you have any insider tips on how we can convince Henry to stay?” Bay asks as the last of the dinner plates are cleared and the room starts to quiet as kids are picked up and taken to bed.
“Did you know he lives in Bozeman?” I ask, not wanting to betray Henry’s confidence by telling him exactly what we talked about.
“Yeah, he put it down on his contact form.”
“Did you know he can’t drive, so he takes the bus?”
“No, I didn’t,” Bay growls, his expression hardening.
“Did you know that Rockhead Point rentals are crazy expensive?”
“That I did know,” Bay sighs. “So, he doesn’t want to commit to a crazy two-hour round trip commute but can’t afford to rent a place in town.”
“I mean, I didn’t say that.” I shrug.
“No, you didn’t. And I think I have a solution. I’ll talk to Henry about it in the morning.”
Smiling to myself, I rub at my stomach appreciatively, stifling a yawn as it tries to slip from my lips. “Thank you for inviting me for dinner, it was great.”
“From now on, you have an open invitation to join us any time you want. I know I’m your boss, but we take family pretty seriously around here, and you’re one of us now.”
“It’s been two days,” I croak.
“Parker, Danny has been talking about you for months. The moment he mentioned your name and what you did for a living, I told him to get you up here, but he said every time he tried to talk to you about moving, or even just visiting, you shot him down. You were family before you even stepped off the plane, now it’s just official.”
Unbidden tears fill my eyes, but I will not cry in front of my boss. “Thank you,” I say, allowing just a little of my emotion to bleed into my words.
“You about ready?” Danny asks, resting his hands on my shoulders and immediately starting to massage them.
“Yeah, sure.”
“I’ll see you in the morning, Parker,” Bay says, standing from his seat and following us out to the front door.
After we say good night, we step out into the cool night air, and I shiver, wishing I’d thought to bring a sweater with me.
“Are you cold?” Danny asks.
“A little.”
Draping his arm over my shoulder, Danny pulls me into his side, holding me against his warm body as we walk down the hill and back toward his place.
“Did you like them?” he asks, a hint of insecurity in his tone.
“How could anyone not like them?” I say honestly. “I’ve never felt so welcome by a group of strangers in my life.”
“Good, I want you surrounded by friends here, because it’s friends and family that make a place a home,” Danny says, falling silent for the rest of the short walk back to the house.
We say our good nights at the bottom of the stairs. Danny heads into the kitchen while I make my way upstairs, letting myself into my bedroom and sitting down on the edge of the bed. My nerve ends are all on fire from the short walk tucked into his side. His touch was entirely innocent, but my skin feels scorched, like he branded me just from being so close.
Slowly stripping out of my clothes, I turn off my light and crawl into bed. Will he come to me tonight the way he did last night? Do I want him to?
I don’t know why I like him appearing in my room and helping me make myself come. I had a chance to have him in the light of day and I said no, so having him come to my room at night feels like having my cake and eating it too. But even though I should, I know I won’t tell him to stop or ask him to leave.
Anticipation hums through me, making the blood in my veins buzz and bubble with excitement. I hear him climb the stairs. I hear him go into his room. I hear the shower turn on, then off. I hear the creak of his bed as he gets in. But then all I hear is silence.
Checking the clock on my cell, I wonder if he’s waiting for a certain time or if he’s listening for me to get started. But then thirty minutes pass, then an hour, then two, and all I hear is silence. My needy body is desperate for release, eagerly waiting for the orgasm I’ve been craving since he massaged my shoulders earlier, but I want him too.
Pulling out my wand, I throw back the covers, bend my knees, and spread my legs, putting myself on display for him, knowing my pussy will be the first thing he sees when he comes into the room. Only he doesn’t come.
The door stays closed as I press the wand to my clit, sucking in a gasp of air as the vibration ricochets through my body. He doesn’t come when I turn the speed up, then set the mode to a teasing pulse that slowly peaks, then settles, only to gently ride the wave back to the peak again.
He doesn’t come when my first orgasm bursts from me in a garbled cry or when the second one feels like it’s been dragged out of me, and for the first time in a long time, my release feels lackluster and entirely unsatisfying.
As I fall asleep staring at my empty room and closed door, all I can think is why didn’t he come. And why am I so incredibly disappointed?