Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Oh god, I really want to kiss him. It’s been over a week since the last time we had sex, so I’m a little pent up. But I tether myself with the reminder that this is not the time nor the place.
“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” Parker says, and his voice comes out a husky whisper.
He lets go of my lip, but his stare remains fixed on that very spot.
“Wearing those jeans that hug your ass like a fucking dream while you talk football to me? I’m the one who’s on edge here.
Do you know how dangerous you are, Dani Tsai? ”
No man has ever told me I’m dangerous before.
I’ve always been run-of-the-mill, unexciting Dani who had okay sex.
But that’s not the case when I’m with Parker.
With him, it’s not ridiculous for me to think I’m sexy, sensual, and desirable, because he makes it no secret that to him, I am all those things.
“You have no idea, do you?” Parker reaches around with one hand and gives my backside a firm squeeze. “You don’t know how fucking hot you are.”
My heart wreaks havoc under my sternum. He’s so close that I can feel his breath fanning over my face. Our lips are but a hairbreadth apart, and the bed suddenly feels too small for the both of us.
“We can’t hook up while our parents are downstairs,” I say, my lips ghosting his.
“You’re right. We can’t,” he agrees, but his forehead rests against mine, and when I angle my head, our noses touch. We hedge at this impasse, neither of us moving—except for his hand on my butt, long fingers slowly kneading the curve of it.
“Parker,” I purr his name when I can’t take it any longer. I want him. I want my mouth all over him. My sandcastle has collapsed into carnal disarray. “I think you should kiss me now.”
His smile is as cavalier as ever, but he does as he’s told, landing a chaste, closed-mouth kiss on my lips. “Is that okay?”
I nod. “As long as we—” he kisses me again. “Keep it—” and another kiss. “PG.”
“PG. Got it.” And then Parker is crushing his mouth to mine, and I fall to the bed as he climbs on top of me.
He kisses me like he’s been thinking of nothing but kissing me all day.
His tongue eases past my parted lips and wet heat dips into my mouth before pulling back to stroke my bottom lip.
I can’t be bothered to worry about who’s downstairs when the only thought in my mind is that he’s an impossibly good kisser.
Parker’s hand moves over my sweater, closing in on my breast and caressing it through the fabric.
I wrap my legs around him, and his weight settles between my thighs.
That’s when he ruts his hips against me, his jeans rubbing harshly against mine.
When my body instinctively jerks toward him, he does it again.
Holy shit. This is the hottest over-the-clothes action I’ve ever experienced.
I feel like I’m a teenager again, living out some freshman groupie’s daydream about the most popular boy in school.
I’m in Parker Tran’s room, on Parker Tran’s bed, kissing—and dry humping—Parker Tran.
“You know, I figured out where your sweet spot is,” he says when we break for air. His lips, soft and supple, brush against the skin below my left ear. The sudden contact makes me shudder, and it sends a shockwave down to my toes. “Right . . . here.”
He kisses my neck—one, two pecks—and then sucks liberally at the skin. When his teeth come down in a gentle bite, I let out a small whine that sounds amplified in my ears, and I’m convinced the entire house has heard me.
“Shhh,” he laughs, and then his lips are on mine again.
I don’t have it in me to feel embarrassed.
My caution is lost to the wind as one hand runs through his hair, and the other snakes between us until I find the rise in his jeans.
I rub him over the thick fabric. He takes a sharp breath and grinds against me once more, the tension in his pants bulging beneath my hand.
Parker moans into the kiss, and I blame this moment for my lapse in judgment, because in the next second, my fingers are scrambling to undo his pants.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is not a good idea—
“Parker! Dani! Come eat!” C?’s voice from the first floor is like an earthquake, jolting us back to our senses. My eyes fly open, my distress mirrored in the face staring down at me.
“Fuck,” Parker growls as he pulls himself off my body.
My blood is racing, and it’s a good ten seconds before I can peel myself off the bed. I comb a frantic hand through my hair and adjust my bra. When I turn to check on Parker, buttoning his jeans on the bed, he glances up at me.
His face pales. “Oh, shit.”
“What?”
He points to his neck, and I whip around to the standing mirror by the window. I lift my chin for a better look, and that’s when I see it: My sweet spot is a whopping purple bruise, a dark, glaring planet on the expanse of my skin.
A bomb goes off inside me, shrapnel of hysteria lodging into my bones. I’m mortified at both of us for letting this happen, but more so at Parker because it was his beautiful mouth that did this, and I don’t know where else to channel my meltdown.
“You gave me a fucking hickey? In your parents’ house?” I grab a pillow and lash it at him. “What are we, sixteen?”
“Okay, okay, calm down,” Parker catches the pillow before it can hit him and tosses it aside. “You can wear one of my sweaters to hide it.”
“Uh, no, that’s not going to work.” I rub the tender skin, drawing rapid breaths as I pace the length of the room. “If I go down there in your clothes, it’s going to look really suspicious. What I need to do is to go back to my house and change. Do you think you can cover me?”
“Yeah,” Parker motions to get up, only to sink back to the bed in slow defeat. “I’m going to need a minute.”
“What? Oh.” My eyes zero in on the tent in his pants, and my mouth snaps shut.
True to his word, a minute is what it takes before Parker and I are slipping out of his room.
As if he’s a trained defenseman, he keeps me close to his side and out of view as we descend the stairs.
Just when I reach the front door and breathe a sigh of relief, Nathan pops his head in from the living room.
“Where were you guys?”
“I was showing Dani something.” Parker lies like an inexperienced teenager. I thought he was supposed to be good at this.
“In your room?”
“I, um, think I left the stove on,” I say, hand over my neck. I’m pretty bad at this too. “I’m going to check.”
The suspicion in Nathan’s eyes doesn’t let up all night, as we gather for dinner, and C? tells me she’s saved me a seat—next to Parker.
When he passes me the cranberry sauce, his arm bumps mine, and he nearly drops the bowl.
I sit there, anxious and stuffy in my turtleneck, and excuse myself as soon as dinner’s done, so I can run to my bed and scream under the covers.