Page 31 of Ashes of Saints

“Wrecking dates.” I chuckle. “Walking into men on the street.”

“Being adorable.” He smirks.

I give him a cheesy grin back. “So, OnlyFans then?”

His eyes flash with something dark, and it sends a cold shiver through me.

“It was a joke. I wouldn’t—”

Parker drops his inked forearm on the table, his gaze dipping to my tits and then back up. “Evil men would pay good money to watch you pleasure yourself, sweetheart. Then even more to utterly destroy you.”

A shiver runs through me at the roughness of his voice.

“Destroy me how?” I almost whisper.

His intense gaze locks with mine as my nipples harden. Heat pools between my legs and suddenly all I want is for him to touch me and show me how utterly destructive he can be with my body.

“Piece by piece.”

PARKER LEADS ME out of the restaurant after paying with his black credit card.

“Feel like a walk?” He nods across to Central Park.

“Sure,” I reply, feeling happy and slightly drunk.

“Think you can do that without walking into any unsuspecting gentleman?”

I nudge him with my elbow, and he tucks my arm into his. My eyes press closed at his warm touch and I catch the scent of his aftershave again.

It’s like an aphrodisiac.

We cross the road and head into the park, the path lined with soft lights. There are a few people on bikes and walking around like us. Couples on dates, a few on their own likely heading home from work or drinks with friends.

I’ve lived in the city long enough to know how tough New York can be. It can be the most amazing place on earth or incredibly lonely.

“Hey, don’t know yet. I just had the man I walked into me buy me dinner at Kai.” I teased back.

Parker lets out a laugh and removes his arm, looping it around my lower back, tucking me in closer to him. I glance up and his eyes meet mine. My god. A moment flashes between us, and I think he’s going to kiss me. My lips part...

He looks away.

“Let’s head over here,” Parker says, breaking the moment.

Oh.

Disappointment floods me. Perhaps he really is going to just take me home like he promised. He did say he was a sexual man, but there doesn’t seem to be any hurry in getting me home. Which means one thing. I’m not his type.

I was sure we had a few moments.

Piece by piece.

My panties are still wet. I’d struggled to concentrate after he said that, imagining myself being spread open as he destroyed the most private parts of me.

Now I feel like such an idiot.

My initial reaction was obviously correct.

Anyway, I don’t blame him. We bumped into one another, shared a bit of fun banter, and it did appear that we might have some chemistry.

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