Chapter Thirteen
The moment I step into the elevator, I’m certain nothing will ever be the same.
That’s the last coherent thought I have before I kiss Parker.
After that, I’m numb to any reasoning as soon as I feel perfectly soft lips parting against mine.
He starts slowly, like he’s learning how I kiss, and it requires his deliberate care.
But then he’s all in. Solid hands grab me by the waist, and his velvety warm mouth crashes into mine.
The taste of sweet champagne and harsh whiskey makes me dizzy, and I lean into him, as close as I can get.
Still holding onto his suit like it’s meant to anchor me, I give into everything that is Parker Tran.
With a single gasp, I break away from him. Parker doesn’t say a word, but his dark brown eyes sweep over my face, my chest, and our bodies pressed together.
“How much did you drink?”
“I’m not drunk,” I insist. It’s not a lie. I may have required liquid courage to spur me on earlier in the evening, but I’m painfully aware of how sober I am now. “Equilibrium, remember?”
“Okay,” Parker says, though it sounds like he’s talking to himself.
He bites his lip and takes another hard look at me before his entire demeanor changes, the ambivalence in his eyes giving way to something I can’t quite read.
Leaning over to the elevator panel, he presses a button.
“Just so you know, Dani, once this elevator stops, I’m going to take you to my suite. ”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I know.”
It isn’t long before the elevator glides to a stop with a soft chime.
As soon as the doors open, Parker’s hand takes hold of mine, leading me down an empty, brightly lit hallway.
We stop, and I watch the door of his suite fly open faster than I can see the key card leave his pocket.
Strong arms spin me around, and my back hits the wall as his lips find mine for the second time.
He cups my face with both hands, and our tongues collide in eager, feverish strokes.
There’s an urgency in the kiss this time, and I can hardly catch my breath.
Parker lifts me with ease, carrying me to the next room, where I land on a spread of plush pillows. I steal a glance at my surroundings: matte shades of gray and purple and antique charm coming together in elegant luxury. “What the hell is this suite? It’s bigger than my apartment.”
“Is that important right now?” Parker asks, a little winded.
He has a point. The distance from the bed to where he stands feels endless, and I pull him to my level, letting his sturdy frame drape over me.
Feathery kisses land along my jaw, trailing down to my neck, where he sucks gently at the skin.
Instinctively, I reach for his hair and—wow, fucking finally—it’s just as silky as I’d always suspected.
“Get this off already.” I urge him out of his jacket, and he obliges, generously losing his shirt, too, and holy hell.
I really tried to be indifferent every time I’d meet Parker after football practice, but that didn’t mean I could keep my teenage hormones in check.
When he’d lift his T-shirt to sponge the sweat off of his face, my eyes would drop to his exposed torso, though I’d always pretend not to notice.
Now that I can feel that same hard flesh flexing under my fingertips, it’s like a drought ending in a sudden, torrential downpour.
“Like what you see?”
“Don’t make me say it.”
I catch a glimpse of a smirk before he pins me down with another kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth, drawing a moan from the back of my throat. A hand travels under the hem of my dress, just ghosting along my inner thigh, and I tense with anticipation.
“You’re not acting like someone who hates me.”
“Parker, I swear to god—”
“Actually, I think you kind of like when I touch you.” His hand continues up my leg until his thumb reaches my panties, gently grazing the cloth. “Looks like I’m right.”
He teases me where I’m wet, throbbing, impatient. I suck in a sharp breath.
“No smart remark? That’s new.” Parker’s mouth is back on my neck, his lips brushing under my ear as he speaks. “You can tell me if you like it. You’ve always been good with words.”
“I think it’s best if we don’t talk.” I reach for where he’s hard and palm him over his pants. He groans, and it comes out raspy, intense—I’ve never heard him sound like that before. It’s as bizarre as it is satisfying. Parker Tran wants me so badly he’s practically coming apart at the seams.
“So that’s how I get you to shut up,” I snipe back, and like fanning a flame, my words bring out a wildfire in his eyes.
As he unzips my dress, I can’t help but wonder if it’s crossed his mind—the absurdity of all this, after everything we’ve been through, the times together, and the times apart.
In no possible universe does it feel real for us to be kissing.
Undressing one another. Moments away from crossing an unthinkable line.
And yet, all of it fades once Parker strips me down to nothing and whispers, “God, Dani, you’re so pretty.” His voice comes out honey-thick. A chill runs down my spine.
He removes the last of his clothing, and I momentarily adjust to the reality that I now know what a nude Parker looks like—and that yes, I do like what I see.
When he climbs back onto the bed, his hands are hot against my skin, on every curve and dip of my figure, as he makes himself familiar with my body.
He arrives at my breasts, taking one into his mouth, and my heart beats so loudly I can hear it drumming in my head.
I kiss him roughly when he pulls away, leaving a taunting bite on his bottom lip, coaxing him to give me more, touch me more.
He’s quick on the uptake, his fingers traveling south and dipping between my legs.
It’s all I can do to keep from spiraling under his touch.
The act is so intimate, and yet so foreign, it carves out an impossible closeness between us.
But I don’t let myself dwell, not when it feels this good.
He checks in with me one more time. “Are you sure about this?”
I nod, positive that my voice will give out if I speak, and Parker presses a single kiss to my forehead.
His lips then work their way down my body, nipping along my stomach, until my thighs are on either side of his head.
I watch his toned arms hook under my legs as he props himself in place, and I nearly gasp from the sensation of his tongue against me.
His mouth is a marvel of focus and skill, and an ache within me builds up in crushing tides, a coil inside me tensing, tightening, and finally snapping with hot release.
I lose my mind to the rush of my orgasm, still reeling when he moves to the nightstand, and I hear him unwrap a condom.
I don’t know what feeling has lodged itself in my chest—whether it’s nerves or something else entirely—but between the touches, the kisses, and Parker climbing over me, I’m convinced none of that matters.