Page 10 of Someday You Learn

I glance down at our intertwined fingers, stroking the top of her hand again. “So, you do paint…”

“Uh, yeah…you could say that.”

“What do you paint?”

“Mostly scenery, sometimes abstracts. I’m more of a mood painter, so I let my brain tell me what to create.”

“Have you always been artistic?”

“Yeah. My mom was big into creating art, so I guess I got it from her.”

“My mom is a fantastic cook, and luckily, she handed that talent down to me.”

Cashlynn smirks at me. “Okay, now you’re just not playing fair. You’re a handsome doctor who wears glassesandyou can cook?”

My eyebrows shoot up. “The glasses do something for you, huh?”

She nods slowly. “Apparently so. I think they up your sophistication factor. But then I remember that you made me play rock, paper, scissors, and I’m confused.”

Chuckling, I ask, “Why confused?”

“I don’t know. You seemed irritated when you first sat down, like there was this cloud hanging over you.”Fuck, she had you pegged from the beginning, Parker. “But you’ve surprised me.”

I look away from her, not sure how I feel about her accurate assessment. If a complete stranger could pick up on my foul mood that easily, that’s telling. I’ve walked around with this chip on my shoulder for four years, so it’s not that easy to get rid of.

But this woman makes you feel more at ease, doesn’t she?

I swallow hard and Cashlynn’s eyes dart down to my throat as I do. “Do you happen to be free tonight?” I ask, surprising myself but going with this gut feeling to step outside the box for a change.

She tilts her head curiously. “Yes.”

“Good. Because I think you could probably use a drink after this flight, and I’d love to buy you one, if you’re interested.”

“Um…” She bites her bottom lip in contemplation.

“No pressure. But if you’re unsure, we could always play rock, paper, scissors again…”

She licks her lips, smirking. “I actually think a drink is exactly what I need.”

***

“Fuck,” I hiss as I deepen the kiss, pulling Cashlynn closer. I bury one hand in her silky blonde hair while the other squeezes her hip as I draw her closer to my chest.

Suddenly, she pushes me away, her eyes wide and chest heaving, with her hand still firmly planted on my pec as we both struggle for air.

“What floor is your room on?” she asks breathlessly.

“Eleven.”

“Take me there.”

We abandon our drinks as I take Cashlynn’s hand and lead her through the hotel bar to the nearest elevator, hoping no one notices the outline of my cock in my pants. Once we’re inside—alone, thank God—I press her up against the wall and bury my hands in her silky strands again.

“Parker…”

“Fuck, Cashlynn. You’re sure you want this?”

“Hell yes. Fuck me, Parker. I need it.”