Page 114 of The Publicity Stunt
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There are a lot of things in this big, beautiful world that are capable of getting an honest, unfiltered smile from me. Getting to finish a morning Starbucks coffee, a serotonin-inducing trip to Trader Joe’s, watchingInfinity Warfor the hundredth time on a Saturday night. It’s a long list.
But nothing—I repeat, nothing—will top this morning, when I woke up with Parker’s arms draped around my stomach. His morning voice and the scratchy “Hey” that grated against my jaw.
After that, the morning was pretty much a blur. We were back where we started, me on top, then him on top, my mouth on his, then his between my legs.
It’s a miracle we even made it to the airport, much less caught our flight on time.
“You good?” he asks as the seat belt sign switches off.
“Yeah.” I nuzzle close to him, rubbing my cheek against the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Just a tiny headache. I haven’t gotten much sleep this trip.”
“My bad,” he says, sounding very proud of the fact.
I snicker and look up from his shoulder. “It’s a small price to pay for the best sex of my life.”
He raises an eyebrow and his smile widens. “Wow, you sure know how to stroke a guy’s ego.”
“Was that supposed to be a sex joke?”
“Maybe.”
“My boyfriend has the dirtiest mind.”
He leans down in his seat and lifts his arm to put it around my shoulder, nestling me against the crook of his neck. “Takes one to know one.”
“How am I ever going to keep my hands off you?”
He chuckles, bringing his hand up to my temple as he starts to massage it gently. “Does that feel good?”
I purse my lips and try to suppress another little laugh, but he playfully taps my forehead and I give in.
“Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Laughing, I close my eyes and lean against him, hoping this isn’t some dream I’m going to be awakened from the second the flight touches New York soil.
“Hey.” His lips move against the few strands of my hair above my temple.
“Mm-hm?”
“Do you have to go into work tomorrow?”
I lean back a little to look at him. “Yeah. Why? What’s up?”
He’s not exactly smiling, but something like it. “Do you maybe want to come home with me? I can cook us some dinner. You already have your clothes, and I’ll drop you off at the office first thing in the morning, or wherever it is you need to go.”
“Parker—”
“You can meet Dog.”
“Parker.”
I, on the other hand, am making no effort to hide the stupid, lopsided grin on my face. “You don’t need to use your cat to lure me into your apartment.”
“No? Shit, guess I can return him back to the shelter, then.”
I laugh and his smile creeps out and it fills my heart to the brim.
