Page 51 of Mother Parker
PARKER
“Come on, please! Please!” he said.
Jeez. Drop down on your knees and suck him off begging, won’t you?
I shook my head and reprimanded myself for once againgoingthere. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. The more I worked with—for—Hwan, the dirtier my mind got.
But try as I may to stop the stupid, incessant, ridiculous, and disgusting thoughts going round and round in my mind, Hwan kept begging his “friend” Carson.
“I won’t post your head, just your hands and stuff. Come on, Carson. Please!”
Just as I’d imagined him, Hwan practically went down on his knees, but of course, he didn’t suck the man off. Not while the shop was open. I didn’t know what they did after hours.
The other man’s cheeks were red and his eyes glowed as he reveled in all of Hwan’s attention.
“Disgusting!” I muttered under my breath and wiped the counter once again.
A middle-aged man salivating over a young man like Hwan! He had no business being anywhere near him, let alone swooning like a fucking kid in a candy store.
“I’m sorry?” Hwan asked.
Shit. I thought I whispered that. Did he hear it?
I turned to look at them both, sitting at one of the window tables with a bunch of bubble teas and several props in front of them.
But that was Hwan. He loved his social media. He loved talking to people that weren’t there, doing God knew what while watching him, and doing it all with a huge smile on his face like he didn’t know any better.
After two weeks of working for him, I knew that much. I also knew he probably either didn’t know any better or didn’t care.
I also knew he spent most of his day watching my every move, making bubble tea for enthusiastic tourists, and coming up with a hundred different concoctions for me to try.
I didn’t know if it was some sort of challenge, or he was one of those people that had to get everyone on their side, and frankly, I didn’t care. He could make all the bubble tea he wanted, and I’d happily discard it as trash while enjoying it when he wasn’t looking. It was our thing. The little game we played. And I didn’t know why I was even playing it. It’d be easier to admit I was a convert and wanted all the bubble tea right in my mouth, but I liked the attention.
“Nothing,” I said. “I was just saying how disgusting boba is,” I told Hwan to get him off my back and went back to vigorously wiping the counter even though it was as clean as it was ever going to get.
I felt three pairs of eyes inspecting me, and like the good motherfucker I was, I promptly ignored them until Hwan and Carson went back to their photoshoot.
Yeah, I liked the attention, so what? That didn’t mean…anything.
So what if every time I looked at those innocent round eyes, all I saw was him in a champagne glass trying to seduce me?
So what if every time I beat off, he managed to sneak in on my fantasy and ruin things?
So what if my whole life had gone from self-wallowing and guilt to gaudy pink and sickly sweet?
“I think that’s clean, Mr. Parker,” Elliot said, wiping the table next to the counter.
I glared at the young man and he flinched.
“I know,” I grumbled, as if I hadn’t scared the kid enough.
Good job, Parker. Now you’re in the business of making sixteen-year-olds piss themselves scared.
“Sorry,” I mumbled under my breath and he pursed his lips into an uncomfortable, terrified smile.
“I think I-I’ll go check if there’s anything to clean outside,” he told me and he pretty much ran out of my sight.
“Come on, Carson. I swear, just the hands and chest. Here, hold that one,” Hwan said and I didn’t even have the time or inclination to feel bad for Elliot when Hwan and his “friend” were being so irritating.
