Page 39 of Parker
“The dining room this evening, please, Hamish. At eight, if that’s suitable.”
“Very well, sir.”
***
Silver candlesticks burn in the center of the long wooden table. The yellow flames cast a glow over the surface and glint off the silverware. Trays piled high with roasted meat, vegetables, and bread sit before us, far too much for only two people. It smells divine, and my stomach growls in appreciation.
Joel picks up the silver fork, cutting into the decadent food as if it’s an everyday meal. To him, I suppose it is. He’s grown up surrounded by wealth in stark contrast to me. This is his baseline. For me, it’s a reminder of how far apart our pasts are.
“Eat,” he says softly, glancing up. I hesitate, staring at the array of cutlery with no idea where to begin. “Start from the outside,” he adds, his tone warm. “You look good in here, with me. This is where you belong.” And it’s as if he can see all my fears rising inside in this perfect candlelit moment.
After finding the library, Joel dragged me back to our room, informing me we had to get ready for dinner. We needed to dress up for the occasion, apparently. Rolling my eyes and cursing him silently, I had done as I was told. Luckily, it had been in my best interests, as for the next hour, he had worshiped my body, my evening starting in the most wonderful way.
As I laid in the huge roll-top bath, he had washed me gently, every part of me cleansed with a sponge and love. Gliding the soapy surface over my body, he had me sitting between his legs with his lips on my neck and his hard cock snuggled between my butt cheeks. I wriggled against him, trying to encourage him, but he nipped my neck, warning me to be patient.
He touches me as if I’m new, not the broken girl filled with trauma and anger he fell for, the one hardened by betrayal and years behind bars. I let him trace my skin, praying he never finds the cracks.
After our bath, he made love to me slowly, sensually, and exquisitely. Starting at my inner ankle, he trailed kisses over my body, skipping my private areas, his dancing fingers teasing myskin. Arousal coursed through me as my blood warmed. Closing my eyes, I moaned in pleasure.
“Joel,” I pleaded. “I need you inside me.”
“Patience,” he whispered.
“We’ll be late for dinner,” I said, wanting him to hurry.
He chuckled. “The staff are here to dance to our tune, baby. Not the other way around. You’ll be fucked when I say you can be.” The exquisite torture continued until the tremor between my legs was unbearable. He slid one finger inside, then brought it to his lips to taste me. “So wet, so swollen, and so damn good.” His eyes dilated with excitement, his cock hard. After dropping his lips to my ear, he whispered, “Now you’re ready for me.”
I smile softly to myself as I recollect the past hour making love with my husband, and he gives me a knowing look. As I pop another piece of the delicious fare into my mouth, I chew slowly, and he runs his tongue over his bottom lip.
When we are in the same room, his eyes never leave my body. I’m always acutely aware of him. The feelings that pass between us are intense and honest.
“What’s going through that mind of yours?” he asks. “I would love an hour in there to understand you better. To give you everything you want.”
My heart swells with his words. This man has saved me. Without him, I fear my life would have spiraled out of control. With the limited support system around me, all my hard work would have come undone. Sophie wouldn’t be able to single-handedly assist with my reintroduction into society.
I stand and go to him, lowering myself onto his lap. With my arms around his neck, my lips take his urgently, trying to show him how much he means to me.
A tear rolls down my cheek. He’s offered me a life I could never have dreamed of, and I’m almost beginning to believe I deserve it.
“Joel Parker, you’re the single best thing that has ever happened to me. And I love you with all my heart.” He smiles as if I’ve just handed him world peace. I smile back, my fears of our mismatch receding into the corners of my mind. Please let this be real.
“We may have moved fast, but the feeling is mutual. Life without you just wouldn’t be worth living,” he whispers. And I pray again.
Chapter seventeen
Joel & Nicky's Home, Glasgow
Nicky
Monday morning, my first day working in my new family’s business, and I’m terrified.
Imelda Parker, my mother-in-law, has not spoken to me since I met up with her three weeks ago. To convince her to come to the wedding, I’d invited her for coffee, but it hadn’t gone well. She branded me a gold digger and threatened my life if I hurt her son. Joel doesn’t know. I didn’t want to cause him any further pain.
Running the brush through my hair again, I watch my curls fall over my shoulders. The reflection in the mirror is that of a stranger. Polished. Put together. So different from the girl my eyes lingered on weeks before.
Joel informed me I’d be starting in the workshop, beginning with basic tasks, assisting the designers. “Keep your head down and learn,” he said. “Designers are fickle, but they have a lot of sway in the business. Get one on your side and you could go far.”
Choosing my outfit had been a minefield. My husband bombed my first choice of a fitted business dress and heels out. “Nicky, you’ll be fetching material, sweeping the floor and being a general gopher. Wear something smart but comfortable. Though you can wear that for me privately. You look fucking gorgeous.” He grinned, taking the sting from his words for the dismissal.
