24. Parker
24
PARKER
M y hands were still shaking. I’d done everything she needed, and yet it still didn’t feel like enough. But she’d scared the fuck out of me.
Burying my nose in her hair, I closed my eyes and inhaled her smell before clearing my throat and asking, “Did we do too much tonight?”
Of course, we had. I’d pushed her too far. Worn her out.
When she didn’t answer, I pulled my face back. “Hope?”
Her eyes were closed, and her body was still.
“Hope?” I lifted my hand to her mouth. When I felt her breath on my fingers, I exhaled in relief, then tested her brow for a fever.
Convinced that she was just sleeping, I wiggled out from under her and climbed off the bed. Not even that made her stir, so I took a moment to stroke her hair and watch her face before I turned away.
Out on the balcony, I fished my underwear from the hot tub and wrung the material out before finding a place for it to hang and dry. Then I closed up the roof access and found my phone still in the pocket of my jeans.
Returning to the bed, I curled my body back around Hope’s and looked up a couple of things about liver failure. Didn’t find much about dizziness, but fatigue was there, loud and clear, along with bruising, loss of appetite, disorientation, easy bleeding, diarrhea, vomiting blood, itchy skin, abdominal pain, and swelling.
Yellowing of the skin was the first symptom, but I also found a site that said it didn’t necessarily have to be one.
I gnashed my teeth and glanced at her, already spotting a new bruise on her shoulder.
Trailing my finger over it gently, I wondered just how far along and advanced she was.
She’d said five years, which gave us time to find a fix, plus she hadn’t acted too concerned about it yet. But she had started that fucking bucket list, reason number one why I was here right now.
Tossing the phone aside because it hadn’t answered what I needed to know most, I found my keychain with the ghost amulet on it and held the little glass bubble just over her face.
A pinprick of darkness immediately formed in the center, growing and swirling until ribbons of smoke filled the entire vial. The green color had a slight yellow tinge to it this time, making it appear lighter than the last time I’d checked it.
“Fuck.”
That wasn’t what I’d wanted to see. It was supposed to still be the brilliant emerald color it’d been earlier in the week. Or no reaction at all would’ve been better.
Still, I had no idea how much time that really gave us until I needed to worry.
After setting the keychain on the bed stand next to my equally unhelpful phone, I ran my hands over my face and glanced over at the sleeping girl next to me. She was here now, I told myself. She was okay.
Determined to keep it that way, I laid down next to her and curled my body around hers as she slept on.
I have no idea how long I was out before hands on my chest pulled me from the depths. Bare toes slid up my calf, a thigh over my knee. Then fingernails filtered down my chest, abdomen and along my happy trail until my dick was gloved within a tight feminine grip.
With a grunt, I started to rouse a little more ardently.
“Well, look who’s awake,” Hope’s husky voice greeted as she slithered down my side. But she wasn’t talking to me. A second later, her hair brushed past my hip and I could feel her breath on my cock. “Hey there, big guy. Good morning.”
Done addressing my dick, she took him into her mouth.
“Fuck!” I gasped, my eyes flying open wide. I clutched her hair, thinking I should pull her off, but my grip only tightened in her locks when she sucked me in deeper. “Uhn… Hope.”
She muffled out a greeting but didn’t halt what she was doing, and I wasn’t inclined to stop her. Pleasure built, my breathing picked up, and my muscles locked. I dug my heels into the mattress under me and arched my head back as I ground out, “Coming.”
I gave a brief tug at her hair to alert her in case she hadn’t heard me, but she didn’t pull away, and when I realized she wasn’t going to, my eyes crossed as I jetted into her mouth.
Afterward, my muscles were twitchy, and I felt wrung dry.
Hope wiped at her mouth as she sat up to grin at me. “Morning.”
“Yeah,” I panted, still trying to catch my breath. “Morning.”
She laughed, appearing as if she were full of life and vigor before she curled up next to me and cuddled close.
I managed to wrap an arm around her and turn my face in toward hers. “I take it you’re feeling better.”
“Much,” she answered with a spirited grin as she slid her hand up my chest.
I caught her fingers and pulled them to my mouth so I could kiss her palm. “I’m starving,” I said. “Tell me what you want for breakfast, and I’ll order room service.”
A second passed before she answered by pulling in a big breath and then patting my chest in farewell. “I’m good,” she told me. “I should get going, actually.”
“Going?” When she sat up as if to leave, I sat up with her and caught her wrist. “Going where?”
She turned back, sending me a puzzled blink as if she couldn’t believe I didn’t already know.
“It’s morning.” She spread out a hand toward the window where light was flooding in around the curtains. “The night’s over.” Turning back, she took in my expression, clearly seeing that I didn’t understand. So she lifted her eyebrows. “Just one night , remember?”
I blinked. “The time didn’t seem to matter two minutes ago when you had my dick in your mouth.”
Hope blushed. “God. You are so—” Breaking herself off there, she muttered, “I was just saying goodbye. Okay?”
I lifted an eyebrow and tugged her toward me. “Then, I should get to say goodbye too. With my tongue between your legs.”
When I tried to tow her in for a kiss, however, she resisted. “Parker. No.” She shook her head and then looked at me directly. “The night is over .”
The fuck if it was.
Firming my grip on her, I said, “I’m feeding you breakfast before you go. You haven’t had anything since at least seven last night. That’s over half a day without food. You need to fucking eat; I don’t care how much appetite you’ve lost.”
Brows furrowing, she asked, “How did you know—” Grinding her teeth as if vexed, she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “Stayed up all night, researching my symptoms, did you?”
“Just until three,” I shot back, only to sniff moodily. “I had to do something . You sure as hell weren’t giving me a heads-up of what to expect.”
Regret flashed across her features. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. The hot tub really?—”
“Stop blaming the fucking hot tub,” I snapped before motioning to all the bottles sitting out on the nightstand. “Your liver’s fucking failing. That’s the culprit. Now, you’re staying for fucking breakfast so that I can see you actually eat something.” Lifting my brows sternly, I growled, “You got me?”
She stared back a moment before groaning and rolling her head on her shoulders to consult the ceiling. “Fine,” she muttered, relenting reluctantly. “But I’m taking one last shower in that big-ass bathroom while we wait for the food. That thing has, like, a million jets. It’s freaking amazing.”
I chuckled, satisfied that I’d gotten my way. “Take your shower,” I allowed. “I’ll get breakfast ordered.”
I ordered her fruit, oatmeal, and coffee, trying to keep it mild so nothing upset her stomach.
And as she took her time in the shower, I contemplated the idea of joining her. But I’d probably pressed my luck to the limits already. I had to balance the fine line of being persistent enough to convince her to stay longer and not-so persistent that I annoyed her into fleeing.
So I bided my time by checking messages on my phone after I’d found my clothes strewn around the suite and pulled them on. I was lounging on the bed, feet kicked out comfortably and fully dressed when the door to the bathroom came open.
Arching an eyebrow, I glanced over to watch her emerge in one of the hotel’s fluffy signature bathrobes with her hair wrapped in a towel. She was so fucking adorable that it made my stomach clench.
“I’ve never actually worn a hotel bathrobe before,” she announced giddily as she kicked out her foot. “And look. They had slippers too. They’re so comfy. I swear, they have some kind of memory foam in them. You think I could stash them in my bags and take em’ home with me when I leave?”
“You want them, they’re yours,” I assured, still lounging against the headboard as I watched her.
Face blooming with pleasure, she wandered toward me, saying, “Sweet. Thank you.”
I could see it on her face, then. She was ready for me to seduce her again. She wouldn’t deny me this time.
But I had more in mind than a quickie on the bed while we waited for breakfast to arrive. So I slid off the mattress evasively before she could reach me.
“I think I’ll rinse off before the food arrives too. A million jets, you said?”
“Uh.” She blinked in confusion and then turned to watch me stroll toward the bathroom. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s amazing. Go ahead and enjoy. I’ll just—” Glancing helplessly around the room, she flailed a hand toward the door. “I’ll let room service in if they show up before you’re done.”
“Great.” I lifted my eyebrows at her briefly before murmuring, “Be out in a minute.” And I shut the door between us.
Hope wasn’t lying about the shower; it kicked ass. I was definitely going to get a showerhead like this installed at home. But I rushed through the experience anyway, eager to return to her and make sure she hadn’t left already.
She’d gotten under my skin. I wasn’t about to let her get away until the craving for more had dissipated.
Wrapping a towel around my waist as I stepped from the stall, I bypassed everything else and opened the door to the room. But Hope wasn’t there. Then again, neither was the bedspread.
Squinting at the rumpled sheets left behind on the mattress, I tilted my head and wandered barefoot from the room, only to pull up short in the front foyer.
She’d spread the blanket out on the marble floor and seated herself in the middle with all the food from the breakfast cart scattered around her.
It was fucking adorable as hell.
“Mmm.” When she saw me, she perked up straighter and motioned to the food before popping a grape into her mouth. “I’ve never had a picnic on a hotel floor before. This is awesome. It’s just like Pretty Woman . You should try the grapes.” Plucking up another, she groaned. “So good.” Chewing, she reached for another bowl to jostle it for attention. “I saved the strawberries for you.”
She must’ve found the sound system to the suite as well because Lainey Wilson’s “Watermelon Moonshine” was softly flowing through the speakers.
The whole scene was vaguely romantic, but I wasn’t about to complain. I didn’t want her to pack up and leave. Besides, I liked the ambiance.
She’d taken the towel off her head, and her wet curls were spilling over her shoulders, but she was still wearing the bathrobe, so I pushed from the doorway in my own towel, holding it in place with one hand as I strolled toward her.
“So the table and chairs in the kitchen are beneath us, I guess.”
Hope frowned. “Kitchen?”
When she glanced around, looking, I tipped my head toward a closed door, saying, “Through there.”
Mouth gaping, she gasped, “Holy shit. There’s really a kitchen in this place? I didn’t even notice it yesterday when I was exploring. After I got a load of that bed, my brain just sort of short circuited.”
I chuckled as I dropped onto the fringes of the blanket. “It is a big-ass bed.”
Stretching out my legs, I relaxed on my side and propped my upper torso up with my elbow before reaching for a strawberry.
“Mmm,” I murmured as juice dribbled with my first bite.
Hope laughed and found a napkin before tossing it my way, but I’d already wiped the mess away with the back of my hand and popped the rest of the berry into my mouth.
“Good,” I said with a full mouth.
“Is it?” she countered, muffling her words on purpose to mock me.
I snickered and called her, “Brat,” before tossing a grape at her.
When it bounced off her bare knee, she jumped. “Hey.” She plucked her own weapon from the fruit bowl and launched a grape at my face.
Opening my mouth, I lifted my chin an inch and caught the grape between my teeth. “Hey, thanks,” I told her with a smirk before I started to chew.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, blinking at me in amazement. “You actually caught that with your mouth.”
“You look surprised.”
“Well, yeah .” Scooping up another grape, she demanded, “Do it again.”
I shrugged. “Okay.”
She tossed it easier this time with more of an arch. It bounced off my cheek.
“You tried to miss me,” I accused, even though I knew she hadn’t.
She gasped indignantly. “I did not!” When she beaned another at me, definitely hoping to hit me—probably in the eye—I zipped my face to the side and caught it in my mouth.
“Oh…” Outrage steamed through her glare. “You?—”
I gripped her ankle and dragged her across the blanket toward me, upsetting the bowl of strawberries along the way. “Me what?” I asked huskily as I rolled onto my back and pulled her onto my lap to straddle my waist.
Her eyes glazed, lips parting when she settled against my hardening cock. Shoving at my shoulder, she groused, “You’re such a pain in the ass.”
“But I feel so good between your legs,” I coaxed, shifting under her to rub my erection against her clit. “Don’t I?”
Pressing her hands against my chest to brace herself, she snapped her mouth shut and swallowed thickly, her throat working as she tried to pull herself together and resist the draw. Then she gave a vigorous shake of her head. “Parker, we can’t. The night’s over .”
“Just this weekend,” I wheedled, lifting myself upright so I could bury my fingers into her hair and grip the back of her head with one hand while I pressed my brow to hers. “The room’s already paid up through tonight.” I hovered my mouth right there in front of hers so that all she had to do was strain an inch forward to give in and kiss me.
But she shook her head, resisting. “We gotta draw the line somewhere.”
Around us, Chris Stapleton was singing “Tennessee Whiskey,” while in front of me, Hope’s eyes flooded with temptation.
“Just this weekend,” I whispered.
She was going to submit. I could see it on her face, but a sound against the glass walls that led out to the balcony had us both glancing over.
“Holy shit, it’s raining,” she said as if she’d never seen rain before.
“Yeah. Fascinating.” I turned back to her, but she was already shoving my hand out of her way and popping to her feet.
“Hey!” I lifted my arms, gesturing in question as to where she was going.
“My bucket list,” she answered, racing toward the sliding door.
“Huh?” I blinked dumbfounded as she whipped open the sliding door and hurried out onto the balcony barefoot and wearing nothing but a hotel bathrobe. “What the fuck?”
I’d been trying to fulfill her damn bucket list right here.
Not about to miss out on whatever this was, however, I pushed my way to my feet and wandered to the entrance of the balcony. Staying inside the threshold, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the doorframe.
It was a gentle rain, hard enough to soak her to the bone but calm enough to walk around in without any consequences.
With a laugh, she opened her arms and tipped her face back, sticking out her tongue to catch raindrops on it as she whirled in a circle and enjoyed the shower.
Speakers must’ve been installed out here too because the same song playing inside was filling the balcony too.
“Parker,” she called, finally noticing me in the dry interior. Blinking through her wet lashes, she reached out a hand and smiled. “Join me.”
I swallowed, feeling her pull from the very center of my chest. And the pure power of it scared me enough to make me shake my head in resistance. “Sorry, darlin’,” I refused. “Pieces of shit melt in the rain.”
She scowled. “You’re not a piece of shit. Besides, it’s my bucket list. Number five was to dance with someone in the rain. You can’t deny me a bucket list item.”
I arched my eyebrows. “Thought I was only good for number four.”
Her hands slapped against her hips. “Get your ass out here, dammit.”
I huffed out a breath and stepped into the rain. “You never give up, do you?”
A smug smile spread across her lips. “Why should I when all it might take is just one more attempt to get what I want?”
“Well, you got me,” I groused, still holding onto my towel with one hand. “What now?”
Vibrating with triumph, she stepped close and looked up into my eyes as Benson Boone’s “Beautiful Things” started.
“Now you dance with me,” she whispered.
My chest went tight, and everything inside me shuddered with a longing I hadn’t felt in years. The ache that had chased me after my parents’ death, the need for acceptance from someone to love me no matter what. It washed over me with a suddenness that shocked my system. And for a moment, I couldn’t even breathe.
But Hope was still standing there, waiting for my answer, so I exhaled slowly and steadily, then reached for her hand. She stepped toward me immediately, looping her arms over my shoulders. I debated a moment on whether to keep hold of my towel or grip her waist, but the need to touch her won out.
The towel tumbled down my legs almost immediately, and I didn’t give a shit. Hope moved in closer to rest her cheek on my shoulder as one hand smoothed over my bare ass, and from there, we shifted around in the rain with a sorry excuse for a two-step.
She didn’t seem to mind, though. We danced through the first verse just like that, until the chorus started.
And then I don’t know what came over me, but I started to murmur along with the lyrics because it echoed exactly what I was thinking. “Please…stay,” I sang gently into her ear. “I want you. I need you, oh God.”
Hope lifted her face from my shoulder and looked up at me with wide eyes. The song was immediately forgotten as I admitted in a thick rasp, “Just this weekend. I’m not ready to lose you yet.”
A shudder went through her. “God. Parker…”
Lifting onto her toes, she smashed her mouth to mine. I met her lips readily and wrapped a hand around her waist, backing her through the rain until we reached the bar area.
She was gripping my face between her hands and sucking my tongue into her mouth as I lifted her onto a bar stool and parted the soaked bathrobe in order to get between her legs.
“Hurry,” she commanded, bracing her feet on the rungs as she perched herself on the edge and spread her thighs wide.
“Fuck,” I breathed, dazed by the view. Then I looped a hand around her waist and stepped forward.
As I pushed inside her, her upper torso fell back so she could rest her spine on the edge of the bar’s counter behind her. She grabbed onto the stools flanking us, and her robe fell open all the way, letting her breasts spill out. They bounced as I shoved into her.
Gripping her ass, I tipped her hips for maximum penetration and started to pound, never pausing.
Hope writhed on my cock, undulating and jerking, just as intent to capture that sweet release as I was. When it came, she threw her head back and let the rain pelt her face and breasts as her inner muscles contracted and squeezed around me.
I knew at that moment, I was never going to be the same again.
This girl had me locked down. She was in my head. She ran through my veins.
She fucking owned me.
“Okay,” she admitted breathlessly as she came down from the high, slumping limply against the bar. “Just this one weekend.”