18. 18
“ R oom service,” the voice calls out.
“Coming,” Anastasia says, her voice husky with lust as she pulls her clothes into order. I would normally get up and get the door myself, but my raging hard on is probably not something the poor resort employee wants to see.
“Good evening, ma’am. Where would you like me to put this delicious food?” he asks, pushing the silver cart into the room.
“The table would be great, thank you,” Anastasia says. Awkward silence fills the air as we wait for the server to finish placing the dishes on the table.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, thank you so much.” Anya holds the door open for him. By the time he pushes his cart out of the door, my erection has deflated enough I can stand up.
I move over to the table and pull out her chair.
“After you,” I say.
“Why thank you, sir.”
As we eat, we talk about small things, and I get a small glimpse of what it could be like to date Anya out in the real world. How much she loves her family and friends. How she does everything she can to be at Dom’s games or have a monthly dinner with her parents. And every minute I realize how grateful I feel.
Grateful to be having dinner with this woman.
Grateful she was giving me a chance.
Grateful for the impulsive decision that led me here.
“Have you ever broken a bone?” I ask, taking a sip of my wine Anya had in the room.
“My best friend bet me I was too chicken to jump off the swings. But what she didn’t know is I had been doing that with Dom whenever our parents would take us to the park. No matter how much we got yelled at about it. So, I got going really high and when I released, I could tell I had gone too high and panicked.”
“The worst thing you can do,” I say.
“Pretty much. I landed weird and had to catch myself. The momentum or the angle, I dunno, whatever it was, caused my arm to break. I was in a cast for eight weeks. In the summer. I couldn’t swim, so you can imagine how upset I was.”
“Swimming is the best part of summer. I always hated how itchy casts would get.”
“What have you broken? ”
“I broke my leg. It was during rugby. A guy on the other team was trying to tackle me and the field was muddy. My foot sunk down into the mud just enough that when he hit me, I twisted and my foot stayed where it was for a second longer than it should have. I was in a cast for twelve weeks, I think? I can’t remember. Long enough,” I told her, the phantom pain echoing in my leg for just a moment.
“Ouch,” she says, wincing in sympathy and touching her leg. “Do you still play?”
“No, I gave it up about a year ago? Mitchel and I just had too much to do when our business really started gaining traction. Plus, I’m not twenty-one anymore and the hits were starting to wear on my body.”
“A good problem to have. Sucks about your leg, though.”
“It’s fine now.” I push my plate away from me. “Ready for the movie? I was thinking a slasher movie, so you’ll get scared and want me to protect you. And me, being the big, strong man I am, will hold you in my arms.” I give her a cheesy grin as she laughs, and while I make the suggestion sound like a joke, a night with her in my arms for a few hours is exactly what I want.
“Fine, we’ll watch that, but then you have to watch Titanic with me.”
I want to groan. That was Brittany’s favorite movie. She loved the love story and the great tragedy of Jack’s death. We watched it so many times I could almost recite it.
I want to tell her no, tell her there are too many memories and I want to be in the moment with her, but when she looks at me like that, it doesn’t matter. But I hear Sharon’s voice in my head, telling me even though it’ll be hard, choosing to leave the past in the past will help me start to heal .
“Deal,” I say choosing to enjoy this moment with Anya, even though it’s the most complicated decision I’ve made.
“I should warn you; Dom and I used to watch slasher movies and make fun of them. I might not be cowering like you’re hoping for. But if you get scared, I’ll hold your hand,” she teases, moving over to the couch.
Anastasia is leaned against me, eyes tight on the screen as Rose tries to break the handcuffs keeping Jack tied to a pipe in a room filling with water. Both of my ass cheeks and my arm are numb, but I don’t care. She’s comfortable and that’s what matters.
She hadn’t been kidding about laughing at slasher movies. And after listening to her mock the various characters for how they run, their decision-making abilities, and the quality of their screams, I ended up joining in and instead of being mildly uneasy from the jump scares, I was laughing along with her.
“Isn’t this romantic?” she asks, a sigh in her voice.
“I feel like the whole ship sinking situation really puts a damper on the romance.”
She sits up, staring at me with a look of shock on her face. I take advantage of her movement and shift. Pins and needles prick as the blood rushes into my extremities.
“ What are you talking about? That makes it even more romantic!”
“I would be a little upset about having to die for someone I met two days before.”
“Hey, Parker?”
The tone of her voice removes every bit of teasing out of my body .
“Hey, Anastasia?” My lungs feel like they are struggling to draw oxygen into my body.
“Wanna make out?”
Her blunt question has my thumb pressing the pause button. I turn on the couch and give her every ounce of my attention.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I knocked on the door. Earlier was not even close to enough, but I figured pouncing on you again would be a little overzealous,” I tell her.
“I wouldn’t have minded.”
“The food would have gotten cold.”
She shifts on the couch, moving toward me. With a question in her eyes, she puts a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to turn away from her so she can straddle my lap.
“Is this okay?” she asks, settling her weight onto my legs. My hands go to her ass and drag her over my hard dick. She rocks against me again, this time without my help, and I groan.
“Does that answer your question?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she whispers, staring at my mouth.
“Good.”
I tangle my fingers in her hair, pulling her full mouth down to mine. She tastes lightly of the cookies and cream she had while we watched the slasher flick earlier. Every time I kiss her, she tastes of sugar and chocolate and I become more and more addicted.
Her tongue runs across my bottom lip.
Tentative.
Seeking.
But that just won’t do. Changing my grip, I angle her face. Her lips part, welcoming me as I delve deep inside, our tongues tangling in passion and need. Anya moans into my mouth and I release her hair, running my hand down her back, pressing her to me.
As my hand finds her ass once more, I give her a smack.
She pulls back, both of us panting.
“So, you thought dinner getting cold was more important?”
“I’m an idiot with no excuse,” I say before I dive back in, lifting her slightly and pressing her back to the seat of the couch, settling between her legs.
“Parker, wait,” she says, squirming, and I push back off her immediately, sitting on my haunches, looking down at her.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“No, I’m okay, I just,” she stutters, “I don’t—”
“It’s okay,” I say, running my hand on the outside of her calf, reassuringly. “We’ll go as far as we are both comfortable with. No further.”
“I knew you’d understand. I just wanted to say it.”
“Just tap me,” I say as I settle back over her, her thighs tightening around my hips.
“Kiss me,” she begs.
“Yes, ma’am,” I respond as I take her swollen lips once more, knowing she’s the one I have to pick at the finale.