Page 22 of Parker
“Open,” he murmurs.
I hesitate. “What is it?”
“Trust me.”
My mouth parts for him. Something sweet touches my tongue—a strawberry dipped in chocolate. I bite down, and rich flavorfloods my mouth. He groans softly, his hand still cradling my face.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growls.
I chew slowly, enjoying each mouthful. The rise in his breathing is even more thrilling. This turns him on, watching me eat strawberries dipped in chocolate blindfolded. As I reach out with one hand toward the sound of his voice, my fingers run across his crotch. His cock is hard beneath the denim. I flutter my fingers before bringing them back to my lap. His hands move to my face, stroking my cheek. Then he slowly releases the blindfold. I blink at the sudden light. He smiles sexily, and my heart freefalls.
“Dinner can wait.” He lifts me from my seat. “Bed now.”
***
We made love for hours; it wasn’t just fucking. I know the difference. My experience tonight is nothing like anyone before. Joel Parker worshiped every inch of my body. Now, we are sitting on the living room floor, eating the remnants of the dinner that was burned. I’m wrapped in his soft cotton shirt, and his scent fills my nostrils—purely masculine. He sits across from me in only his silk boxers, every damn part of him on show.
I lick my lips at the vision of him. This would never get old. He raises an eyebrow in question at my glance, and my cheeks pink in response.
“Another round, baby?” he asks, and I nod enthusiastically. He crawls toward me across the soft wool rug beneath us. “First, I have a question, a proposition, actually. Are you feeling fearless?”
His emerald eyes hold mine. I swallow and give him a shy smile.
“Move in with me. Don’t leave.”
Chapter nine
Joel Parker's Home, Glasgow
Nicky
His mother bursts into the house like a madwoman, screeching at the top of her lungs. This is my first introduction to Imelda Parker in all her glory. Her high heels rattle off the wood floor as she runs around the living area.
“Joel,” she shrieks. “Joel! It’s your mother. Come and speak to me at once.”
We are still curled around each other upstairs in our huge king-size bed. Joel rolls his eyes at me and untangles his legs from mine. I pout at him. He warned me this would happen, that she would appear, guns blazing, when she found out. He’s taken a week off work to move me in and help me get settled, feigning illness.
As I watch from the safety of the covers, he pulls on his boxers and wanders out into the upper hall. Looking up at my reflection, I give a dirty smile to the mirror suspended above the bed. Memories of his cute ass pumping me senseless last nightflutter through my mind. That was an excellent addition to the bedroom this week, because now I get to see him from all angles. Every perfect feature.
“Mother,” he says, his voice level, but the rigid set of his shoulders gives him away. Tension crackles off him like static. “The key I gave you was for emergencies only. What are you doing here?”
“This is a fucking emergency,” she screeches. “Have you lost your mind, Joel? Moving a girl you barely know into your home.”
“It’s none of your business.” His terse voice responds. “You need to leave.”
“None of my business?” she echoes, enraged. “You’re my son, and it’s my job to protect you from impulsive decisions, from gold diggers, and from yourself!”
He exhales slowly, clearly wrestling the urge to snap. “I’m not a teenager anymore, Mother.”
“You’re acting like one.”
“I said leave,” he replies, colder. “I’ll speak to you later. Right now, I want to get back to my girlfriend.”
“What about Eliza?” she barks.
Silence.
My skin prickles. Eliza? Who the fuck is Eliza?
