“Please, Parker. I need you,” I shamelessly beg.
It all makes sense now.
God, it makes sense.
This draw. This tether. This unexplained connection.
Parker hesitates, resting his forehead to mine and inhaling a deep, shaky breath. His eyes close tight, his brows pinching together with conflict. He wants to talk, explain. He wants to fix this first.
Except… nothing is broken.
All of the pieces finally fit.
I step back, biting my lip as I reach down for the hem of my sundress, lifting my arms and pulling it up over my head. The sunny fabric falls from my fingertips, landing in a delicate pile beside my feet. Slipping out of my sandals, I take one more pace backwards, then raise my chin, finding Parker’s eyes.
His green gaze rakes over me in a slow pull, drinking in my curves and lace. There’s a look of anguish etched into his expression, fighting with the lust, and I know he feels guilty, I know we should probably talk first… but my body is singing for him, and my heart is hungry.
My hand extends, palm outstretched, much like the time I beckoned for him in his bedroom. The night he froze.
Don’t freeze, Parker… melt with me.
He glances at my hand, blinking slowly, then meets my heavy stare from a few feet away. There’s another silent moment of hesitation before surrender washes over him, claiming him in a mighty grip, and his eyes flash with potent resignation.
A delicious chill sweeps through me.
Parker moves in with two long strides, then bends down to scoop me up, hoisting me up by the thighs until my legs wrap around his waist, my hands clinging to his shoulders. Our gazes hold for a striking beat before he starts walking, and I’m certain he’s bringing me to the couch, but Parker surprises me—he carries me down the short hallway to his bedroom instead.
We’ve never done this in a bed before.
There’s never been cool, silky sheets entangled with sweaty limbs, or a squeaky box spring, or spooning and cuddling atop a pillowy mattress. We’ve never woken up together with shafts of golden daylight dappling us in warmth.
The prospect sends a new wave of tingles to my core.
Parker deposits me on his bedsheets, unmade and smelling entirely of him. Heady and masculine. Earthy and clean. My legs are still clinging loosely to his hips as he leans over me, a darkened shadow in the unlit room. His hands trail up my body, from my thighs, to my stomach, to my breasts cased in ivory lace.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs softly, palming my breasts before gliding his hands to my neck. There’s no pressure, only tender possession. “Goddamn perfect.”
My thighs clench his waist as I arch my back, causing him to moan. I lift up, reaching for his belt, and his hands tangle in my hair as I unlatch him. Shoving down his pants and boxers, I waste no time in curling my fingers around his cock, hard and ready, and bringing him into my mouth.
He hisses, fisting my hair tight. “Fuck…”
I stroke him in a firm grip, suckling the tip, my own moans mingling with his.
Parker releases me, pulling back from my mouth and stepping out of his bottoms that are pooled around his ankles. Watching him through the wall of darkness, I reach behind me to unclasp my bra, then shimmy out of my underwear, scooting farther back on the bed—an implied invitation.
I’m fully expecting him to pounce on me, but a long moment passes where Parker just stands there, silent and wordless. I can’t make out his expression through the dark, only his shadowy silhouette, but as soon as I’m about to inquire, ask him what’s wrong, my heart seizes.
Parker reaches behind his back, gathering his t-shirt in his hand, and pulls it up over his head, tossing it to the floor.
Oh, my God.
A whimper of disbelief escapes my lips as I inch forward on the bed, wishing I could see him better. He falters before moving towards me, his heat closing in, and my arms outstretch, desperate to feel him. To touch him. To know every hidden inch of him.
Parker settles between my parted knees, his body stiff as a board, his breathing heavy and ragged. I pull him closer by the hips, instantly pressing my lips to his abdomen—his collection of scars. My tongue pokes out, laving the marred flesh, as I rain a scattering of delicate kisses to his skin. He shivers, nearly shaking, cupping the back of my head in his palms as he stands before me, fully exposed for the very first time.
I pull back for a quick moment, my hand searching for the bedside lamp. I want to see him. I need to see everything he’s offering me.
But Parker snags my wrist before I can find it. “No, please… not yet.” His voice sounds pained and uneven. It cracks as he finishes, “Just give me this night.”