Chapter 21
Parker
The car ride home was full of nervous chatter.
I was certain that Ry was just humoring me as I prattled on about my research.
He’d been right. A lot of the missing men had ended up being closed cases.
There were so many who had gone fishing or hunting and never returned, it was surprising that anyone ever chose to participate in the sport.
As soon as we pulled up to my cabin, I opened my door, my head suddenly on a single-minded focus to take a shower, scrub every inch of my body, and shave every stray hair that wasn’t sexy.
To me, anyway. If they didn’t like a hairy pussy, they could just deal with it.
I’d trim and make it neat, but I wasn’t shaving that shit.
I did it once to see what the fuss was all about, and I almost scratched my skin off when it started growing back out.
Never. Again. Ingrown hairs were the last thing from sexy. No, thank you.
Before I could jump out, my arm was yanked, and I fell over backwards into Ry’s waiting arms. It was an awkward position, but as his tongue swept into my mouth and his lips devoured mine, I couldn’t have cared less about the crick in my neck. I could massage it later.
Yet again, the evil man ended the kiss before it could really get going, leaving me panting and wanting more. Fuming, I glared at him as he helped me into a more comfortable sitting position. With all the dignity I could muster while panting like a racehorse, I scooted out of the SUV.
“I will make you pay, Detective Nakamura!” I slammed the door on his laughter and stomped to the steps of my cabin.
“Nice ride?” came a drawled, sexy voice from the cabin next door, and I realized that Dante had witnessed the whole thing. Instead of answering the sexy fucker, I decided to flip him off. I was still irritated at him for leaving me hanging last night, too.
“What’s a girl got to do to get to the finish line around here?” I grumbled as I let myself inside with the butterfly keychain and dropped my bag on the loveseat. “These men are all teases. Where’s the follow through? If I stripped myself bare in front of them, would they just smile and walk away?”
It was a depressing thought. My shoulders slumped.
They were the ones who’d approached me about this whole arrangement.
A thought hit me as I was stripping off my clothes and kicking off my shoes.
What if they had decided that they would only do stuff with me together?
That could be one reason Ry didn’t go further than a short kiss.
More than likely, the man just liked getting me all riled up, though.
Regardless, they asked for this. I had agreed, and I was following through with it.
Deep inside, I wanted it more than my next breath.
For the first time since Mariposa’s death, I wanted something more than putting serial killers behind bars.
More than my career path to that goal. More than the justice I craved for her.
I twisted the handle to the hottest setting and breathed in and out quickly when I realized what I’d been thinking. I’d never put anything before justice for Mariposa. Until now. Guilt started gnawing at my insides like live snakes, twisting and writhing, trying to eat me from the inside.
“No,” I cried out to the empty room. “I deserve this! Mariposa would want me to have this!” I knew she would.
The single-minded focus, the lack of self-care, and putting myself last in all things—those were my parents’ thoughts.
They wanted me to be what I had become. I wasn’t good enough as just their second daughter. I was nothing as just Cherish Parker.
“I can be happy and still be a good sister,” I whispered, my words barely audible to my own ears. It was as if I said them any louder, I would bring the wrath of not only my parents, but hell itself on my head. I raised my voice as the tears streamed from my eyes.
“I can be happy and still be a good sister!” I looked up at the ceiling, wishing I could see Mariposa’s face looking back at me. “I love you, but it was never my responsibility to fix what happened to you. I will do what I can, but I can’t live my life like a robot with no feelings, no emotions.”
I hung my head, then finally adjusted the water as steam billowed out around me until it was slightly less than scalding. I stepped inside the shower and stood under the spray until I was drenched, wishing the water could wash away my guilt as easily as it did my tears.
“I just want to be happy. For just one night. Just one moment. Is that really too much to ask?” It was something I wished with all my heart I could ask my parents, but they’d stopped talking to me long ago. Back when they’d decided I was a failure, a disappointment. A disgrace to Mariposa’s memory.
All I had left from them were expectations. Somehow, those expectations had morphed into something that resembled a chance to win back their love. If I could find the killer. If I could find justice for Mariposa. Maybe, just maybe, my parents would be proud of me. Maybe they could love me again.
A sob broke free from my chest, unbidden and unwelcome.
It had been a long time since I’d cried over the loss of my family.
I had accepted it for what it was. Mariposa was the golden child.
She was their firstborn, who was perfect in every way.
When she was taken, they had nothing left, because I was nothing to them but a disappointment.
I knew that and even agreed with them. I could never compare to her in beauty, brains, or charisma.
But she loved me anyway. She was the only one in my life who had always loved me unconditionally.
The strangest part was that now that I was older, I looked exactly like her.
Even my hair had lightened until it was nearly the same shade as hers.
The only difference was our eyes. Mariposa’s green eye was on the left while her blue eye was on the right.
I was the mirror opposite. We had inherited the heterochromia trait from our maternal grandmother.
I washed my hair and scrubbed my body, doing my best to shake off the melancholy that fell over me. Grabbing my razor and the bottle of conditioner that I preferred to use instead of soap, I started on my legs, careful to hit every spot, not missing a single inch of ankle, thigh, or knee.
After I shaved my armpits, I stared down at my crotch.
I bit my lip, remembering the terrible days of itchiness after I’d shaved myself bare back in college.
“Nope,” I shook my head. Instead, I carefully cleaned up my bikini line and mons.
Once I figured I was presentable enough to a couple of guys who likely hadn’t seen a woman’s vagina in years, or never in Gage’s case, I rinsed out my razor and set it on the shelf.
Giving myself one final rinse under the shower spray, I turned off the water and pulled the towel down to start drying off.
I couldn’t help but wonder if that vibrator I used occasionally had been enough to prepare my poor, unused pussy.
Remembering the size of Gage’s cock when Ry was giving him a blow job, I had to guess that no, no, it definitely had not been enough.
I hoped I brought some ibuprofen in my overnight bag.
I squeezed my legs together as the tingles from the other night came back with a vengeance.
Apparently, my vagina didn’t care if it got beaten to shit.
“Alright then, let’s do this thing,” I mumbled to myself with a huff. Tossing the towel over the shower door, I turned to the sink and started preparing myself for a night of debauchery.
I was about to knock on the door when it swung open wide with my fist in midair. I blinked at Gage, then opened my fist to wave awkwardly instead.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
Gage’s lips tipped up in one corner while I inwardly cringed. “Come here,” he said, his voice fueling my already burning lust the moment he had come into view. Thank goodness the man liked me, because he was definitely a wet dream for me.
I eagerly stepped forward, not even attempting to play it cool.
Luckily, the man didn’t play coy either.
His large hands went straight for my body, one to my head, gripping my ponytail tightly to angle my head just the way he wanted, while the other hand went to my ass.
His hold was firm, squeezing the globe tightly, just shy of painful, as he lifted me slightly, giving my height an added couple of inches.
His lips met mine with a tender caress, something I hadn’t expected from him. It was soft and gentle. Instead of delving into my parted lips, his tongue swept across them, tasting my cherry chapstick as he let out a low hum that I felt against my chest.
My knees buckled as he slowly pressed deeper.
As gentle as he was, he was still very much in full control of our every move, guiding me, directing the dance of our tongues.
All I could do was follow his every lead.
Something about his control allowed me to let mine go.
My entire body relaxed, every muscle released the tension I’d been holding since I could remember.
I just let myself feel as I was swept away by the feel of the passion he ignited between us.
When he pulled away, it was just a parting of the lips, our bodies still pressed intimately together, and I whimpered, my breath ghosting over his mouth as I blinked up at him.
“Please,” I whispered. It was a plea for more, but also a plea to not let me think, to not let me return to the headspace I’d been in before he’d so fully and thoroughly filled me with only him.