CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Parker
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I loosened my grip on Raven's hips, gently bringing my hands down to her fucking perfect ass. Slowly, I pulled my now semi-hard cock out of her wet pussy. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, and her whisper of "Shit," wasn't nearly quiet enough if she was trying to keep it from me.
It wasn't out of place, it just wasn't quiet enough.
I rolled the condom off and threw it into the trash. My entire body was tense, and not because I'd just come harder than I had in a long time, but because of this situation.
It was a good idea when she was coming in my mouth.
Now, with it all said and done, neither of us could have ever made a worse choice than this.
There was no longer a line. We'd crossed it. We'd spit on it and rubbed it out. We'd completely removed any trace of any kind of line with what we'd just done.
I backed away as Raven moved herself to standing. This was so fucking awkward, and it didn't get any less awkward as she grabbed a few tissues from the box on the other side of her desk and wiped between her legs.
Neither of us said a word until we were fully-clothed again. She grabbed a brush from a drawer and tugged it through her messy, dark hair, looking somewhere over my shoulder. "In the interest of not fueling any workplace gossip, you should probably leave out the back."
She was right, but... "You're not gonna talk about what just happened?"
She uncapped a lipstick and looked in the mirror. Ignoring me, she brushed the wand over her lips, leaving them parted to dry. She put on another coat, followed by some gloss, then rubbed her lips together.
"Raven."
"No!" She ran her fingers through her hair and finally looked at me properly. "Because I need to process what the hell we just did, try not to throw up with guilt, and do my job, okay? So, no. I'm not gonna talk about what happened right this second."
Yeah. The guilt. It was creeping into my bloodstream. It was vicious, and it was accompanied by the hint of self-loathing.
"I'm not working tomorrow," I said, stopping by the door.
She nodded. "I know. That's probably for the best."
Was it?
It didn't matter. She had her mind made up, and it would take an act of God to change it. She didn't want to talk about it right now, and maybe that was the best choice. I sure as fuck didn't know what to say to her.
I left and turned to the back without another word. Nothing I could say would make what we'd just done any better. It wouldn't change the fact that I didn't regret it, either. It would just worsen this already screwed up situation.
I leaned against the wall as soon as I stepped outside. Then, it really hit me. I'd just fucked Raven. I'd just bent her over a goddamn desk and had sex with her. She'd cried my name as I groaned hers. She'd come all over my cock as I had inside her.
I'd just done the one goddamn thing I shouldn't have.
I had no idea what would happen next.
But none of this would ever be the same again. That much was obvious.
***
I rested my feet on the table on the back porch. It was almost completely silent in the back yard at my parents' house, and I welcomed the peace. I hadn't had any peace from my own mind since I'd left Raven, and I was wholly to blame for that.
I'd been able to think of nothing but her. Of nothing but what we'd done and how it'd felt. Of how I should regret it, but I couldn't.
That was the worst part. I didn't regret it at all. I couldn't.
I'd wanted to fuck her. She'd wanted it, too, no matter what she said from this point on. It'd been mutual—more than mutual. She'd responded just as enthusiastically as I'd been, and there was no denying it.
It still didn't stop the guilt, and no matter what she said, we had to talk about it. She couldn't avoid me forever. Sooner or later, we ran the risk of telling Ryan what had happened. The risk of one of us slipping up was too great.
Plus, we needed to talk about work. No doubt it would be really awkward now. The key was not letting on to anyone else that something had happened.
Work.
Home.
Family.
Friends.
We were fucked. We'd fucked ourselves by fucking each other.
And the worst part? I didn't know how I felt about her now, but I sure as hell no longer hated her. I no longer just respected her, either.
There was something...more. Some intangible feeling I couldn't put into words. I couldn't hold onto it long enough to form enough of a sentence to describe the way I felt whenever she looked into my eyes or opened that sassy mouth of hers.
It was foreign. Scary. Unwelcome.
I wanted her in ways I couldn't bring myself to admit to.
"Good morning." Mom slid the door shut behind her. "Please take your feet off my table."
I quietly laughed as I lowered my feet to the chair closest to me. "Morning."
She glanced at the chair with pursed lips before sitting next to me. "I suppose that's better."
"Life is about compromise, Mom."
"Hmm. How are you feeling this morning? You didn't seem yourself last night."
"Stressful day." That was the vaguest, truest answer I could give. "I didn't sleep well, so I'm glad I'm not working today."
She sipped from her coffee mug and set it on the table. "Are you and Raven getting along well?"
I meant to say "Better than before," but what came out was a heavy sigh.
Mom looked at me. Her dark eyes flitted across my face before she finally smiled, looking away.
I turned to her. "Why are you smiling like that?"
"You like her."
"I'm not entering into a discussion fit for teenage girls, Mother."
"I'm not attempting to do that at all. But, clearly, you're feeling conflicted over something, and this is the only possible thing it could be. I have to admit, I wondered if the two of you had some hidden feelings beneath all that fighting."
"No hidden feelings," I said. "Ever. The hate was...is...real."
"Except you don't look like someone who hates her."
"She doesn't have to be object of my hate for it to be directed toward her."
"Do you have feelings for her?"
Another sigh escaped me. I was getting a headache with this line of questioning. It was bad enough I had it inside my own mind. I didn't need my mom's interrogation, too.
"She's a smart, beautiful woman," I said. "But she's also Ryan's sister, so anything I may or may not feel about her is irrelevant."
Something I should have reminded myself before I stuck my cock eight inches inside her.
"Hardly irrelevant." Mom picked her mug back up and tucked her ankles beneath her chair. She wasn't looking at me, she was staring out at the flowers lining the side of the yard. "I'm sure Ryan wants nothing more than the both of you to be happy, regardless of how that happens."
"Just drop it, Mom. I'm trying to reconcile these unwanted emotions with my friendship with him and this isn't helping."
"Yet you still fall into my traps." She turned her face toward me and smiled serenely.
"Great. Thanks." Keeping the annoyance out of my voice was harder than I thought I'd be. "Don't you dare do anything with the information you just weaseled out of me."
"Wouldn't dream of it, darling," she said breezily, standing up. "I always fancied Raven as a daughter-in-law."
I gaped at her as she crossed the porch and disappeared back inside. The sliding door squeaked behind her as it bounced off the frame and stayed a few inches open.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
I should have excused myself the moment she walked outside, because there was no way in hell she wasn't going to take that information and run with it.
***
The idea of my mother knowing I had feelings for Raven was more than a little alarming to me. Given that her best friend was Raven's mom, the thing I hadn't meant to say was probably making its way around the Karras family right now. I hoped like hell it wasn't, because that meant Ryan would find out from someone other than me.
The entire situation was my fault. I knew that. If I'd only kept my selfish wants in check, none of this would be happening, and I wouldn't be worried that Mom would be spilling my secret.
The secret I barely understood myself. I couldn't wrap my head around the things I was feeling. It was so new and unexpected. This was supposed to be easy—one summer, a few days, only necessary interaction with Raven.
But, it hasn't worked out like that. We'd spent more time together than was necessary, and we still had to pair the cocktails with the meals. There were things that needed to happen, and I needed to not let these developing feelings get in the way of that.
First and foremost, we had a business relationship. That needed to be the primary focus here. The personal one was what it was.
We'd always been fucked up.
Now, we were maybe beyond that. All I could hope was that she didn't have the same dumb feelings I was developing for her. Then, we'd be able to move on.
I needed us to be able to move on.
That was exactly how I ended up outside Dirty after lunch...On my day off.
There was no doubt in my mind that Raven was here. She always was. I didn't know if it was because she lived above the bar or because she was really that much of a control freak, but if I walked through those doors, I'd find her.
Getting through the doors was my problem.
She seemed grateful that I wouldn't be working today. Like she wanted the space. Honestly, I did, too. I wanted space from her, but the more space I took, the more confused I found myself. Clearing this situation up was my ultimate priority.
I was twenty-eight. Bantering with her like a child was one thing—leaving something like this hanging was something else all together.
I had neither the desire nor the patience to ignore this for longer than necessary.
I wouldn't lie and say that catching her off-guard wasn't something else I was hoping for. She was most outspoken when she was caught unawares, and that was the thing I wanted. I didn't want her to have prepared an entire speech or whatever for me. While I had no doubt that I could see right through whatever bullshit she'd attempt to feed me if that were the case, I still didn't want to waste my time listening to her spewing it.
Because, she would. This was Raven. This was controlled, stoic, steady Raven. This was the side of her she exercised to the letter. This was the front she gave out to the world, because losing control involved emotion, and neither losing control or emotion were things Raven was particularly good at expressing.
I'd seen her do both.
That was how her ex-boyfriend got his windshield smashed.
I had no desire to put my car in the shop because her temper got the better of her.
Besides, she still owed me breakfast.
My phone buzzed from its hole in the car door. The sound was almost violent against the plastic, and the 'ding' that accompanied it was far too loud. I grabbed it and hesitated when I saw her name on the screen, but my curiosity won over and I opened her text.
Raven: Is it fun sitting in the parking lot?
Me: Are you gonna shout at me?
Of course, she'd seen me. I'd been sitting here like a tool forever.
Raven: If you're coming here to talk, get on with it. I'm tired of wondering if you're going to finally get out of that damn car.
Me: You didn't answer my q.
Raven: Of course I didn't. That would mean I'd incriminate myself when I ultimately lose my temper at you.
Me: It takes two to tango, hotshot.
Raven: Yeah, well, it only takes one to punch you in the balls, which I should have done yesterday.
Ouch.
I got out of the car and stuffed my phone into my pocket. If her text was any indication of how this conversation was going to go, I had no right walking into that bar. The smart thing would have been to stay into my car, drive away, and tell her I'd see her tomorrow.
I wasn't a smart guy.
I was apparently a guy with a death wish that needed to be fulfilled by a crazy hot, half-Greek spitfire I couldn't get the fuck out of my mind.
The lights were all blaring when I stepped on. The radio was nothing but a quiet burr in the background, and the noise coming from the kitchen had me itching to go in there. It was my first day off since she'd hired me and only because she'd made me take it.
"Go in there." Raven's voice came from somewhere behind the bar. "I know you're dying to."
I walked to the bar and leaned over it. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a fridge, two beer bottles in her hand.
"How did you know?" I asked her.
"Psychic." The bottles clinked as she put them in. "I think Wes was going to call you. Alex isn't happy Wes is in charge."
"Then Alex should learn how to do his job."
"I did mention that." She moved, swinging her legs beneath her so she was kneeling instead. "That didn't go down too well. Apparently, he forgot who pays his wages."
I was glad I wasn't Alex.
"So, I told him to sit his ass down outside like a child and come back when he had some respect."
"He's still out there, isn't he?"
"I don't know. I don't give enough shits to check the kitchen." She said all that without looking at me. She crawled to the other fridge and opened the door. "So, feel free to go out there before you chew my ass out."
"Why do you think I'd—never mind. Hold that thought." I shook my head as I headed for the kitchen.
I pushed the door open to the view of Wes working his ass off. That guy wasn't being paid enough, I was sure. When—if—I left Whiskey Key, he needed my job. He was good enough and he was a quick learner.
"Hey, Wes. Raven said Alex was outside. Wanna explain?"
"Chef. Hey." He glanced over his shoulder. "He used attitude on Raven and she didn't exactly like it."
That told me everything I needed to know.
I sighed. "He's definitely still outside?"
"As far as I know."
I put two fingers up in thanks and headed for the back door that lead to the back seating area. Two steps outside told me that Alex wasn't here. The fact his jacket was on the table was further confirmation of the thing I'd suspected—he'd quit. He wasn't cut out for this job. I'd known it the first time we'd worked together alone, and this wasn't surprising to me at the least.
I was equal parts pissed and happy. Pissed because this was my day off and now I'd have to work, but happy because it meant I didn't have to deal with a mediocre member of staff any longer.
I grabbed his jacket from the table. The material silently crumpled in my hand. I didn't know what annoyed me more—the fact I'd hired someone who was apparently useless, or that he didn't have the balls to say he was quitting. That was all I expected. A note, a text, whatever. Just the information straight from the horse's mouth.
I slammed his jacket onto the side in the kitchen and pulled my phone from my pocket. Wes startled at my hard slam, but he said nothing as I lifted the phone to my ear.
"Shit the—" Raven poked her head inside one of the kitchen doors. She trailed off when she took sight of me with the phone. The call ticked over to voicemail after ringing several times, and that was the thing that pushed me over the edge.
"Alex, if you're quitting, at least have the decency to say so instead of leaving your jacket in the garden seating area. If you can't take the heat, I'm glad you've gotten the fuck out of my kitchen. In case you didn't understand, in the absence of your resignation, you're fired." I hung up and stuffed the phone back into my pocket.
Wes caught the jacket when I threw it at him. "Wash it, Chef?"
I nodded once, sharply.
Raven cleared her throat.
I turned to her. She was standing half in the kitchen, half out, and she was hugging the edge of the door. Her bright, red fingernails stood out against the light wood. "Can I help you?" I asked, much calmer than I felt.
"I came to see if you're okay, but now I'd like to talk to you. Privately."
Wes froze.
Raven smiled at him, one that reached her eyes and made them sparkle. "Don't worry. I promise, this is personal. My brother just called."
That last part was a lie. Her right eyebrow twitched, and I knew that was her tell. It was definitely personal what she wanted to talk about, but while Ryan probably had something to do with it, he wasn't the reason for it.
"Are you good to continue prep for a while?" I turned to Wes. "I shouldn't be long."
"All good, Chef," he answered, heading for the back door that lead to the small washer-dryer area Raven had for our chef's stuff. "Take all the time you need."
That wasn't the answer I wanted.
Raven nodded toward the door. I followed her through the back part of the restaurant and out to the hall that lead to her office, cellar, and apartment. She stuffed a key into the one door I'd never been inside and twisted.
One door separated her apartment and bar. How did I feel about that? I wasn't sure. That didn't seem like a lot of space at all...Never mind the deadbolt on the other side of the door that I noticed as I closed it.
"Throw the bolt through," Raven threw over her shoulder. "It'll stop anyone interrupting us. They can call me on extension one if they need me."
I clicked the bolt through and walked up the solid wood stairs. "I didn't know anyone could call you."
She held the vodka bottle tight in her grip in her kitchen area. "I never told you my extension."
"Your management skills need some work."
She rolled her eyes as she added whiskey to both glasses.
"Vodka and whiskey? What are you making this time?"
"Winging it." She pulled pineapple juice from her fridge and poured some into both glasses.
"Whiskey and pineapple juice?"
"White wine." She grabbed a green-tinged bottle and poured a splash into each glass. "I told you, I'm winging it. And I feel like alcohol is needed here."
She wasn't wrong.
"I trust you," I said. "I think."
I left her in the kitchen and walked through the hall to the front room. It wasn't big by any means, and she had all kinds of girlie clutter all over the place. Magazines and books littered the wooden coffee table that sat perfectly in front of the L-shaped sofa. Something that looked a lot like an e-reader was balanced on the arm of the brown, suede sofa, and a pair of—hopefully—clean socks lay on the top of a cushion.
Fresh flowers brightened the room, and the lone, wide windowsill was full of photos in frames. Drawn to it, I walked there and bent forward to see the photos. There were some I recognized—one was from her twenty-first birthday, another from her senior prom. Some were family pictures, and the others were more recent. Camille and Lani were in a couple, and one was a selfie gone wrong judging by the fact I could only see half of all their heads.
"Here."
I turned at the sound of Raven's voice. She held a glass out in front of her, and I stared at it as I took it. "I'm thinking it might be early for this."
She shrugged and sat down. "My great aunt Maria arrived this morning and immediately came to question me about my sex life. I need both our drinks to be able to function today."
"Yet you still managed to put on your lipstick."
"My lipstick is like a bra. It's a good support system, and the only person who's able to take it off is me."
I begged to differ, but still. "You wanted to talk?" I sipped the drink. It was crazy strong so, with a nudge to a stack of magazines, set it down on the table.
She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear. She copied what I'd just done by setting her glass on the table, too. Her breasts rose as she took in a deep breath, and she punctuated the exhale by falling back on the sofa and diving her hand into her hair.
Clearly, whatever she had inside her head was staying there. Still, I waited. Never mind that I'd come here to talk to her. If she wanted to talk right this second, I had to wait for her.
She was out of control. Only someone who knew her as well as I did would be able to tell it. She was in a situation she couldn't control, and she was struggling. Her jaw was tight and her fist was clenched, and her gaze flitted back and forth, focusing anywhere in the room but on me.
Her avoidance was so obvious it was almost laughable. Still, I waited some more. I didn't know what to say to her. I sure as hell couldn't tell her about the feelings I was developing, and I couldn't tell her we could ignore what happened yesterday.
There was no ignoring that.
There was only damage control.
The problem was I didn't know if I wanted to do damage control.
And looking at her sitting there in front of me with her thick, dark hair, captivating blue eyes, and fire truck-red lips did nothing but convince me that damage control was the wrong choice. Watching as a lock of hair fell from behind her ear so she could replace it again did nothing but endear her to me.
It didn't matter if she was giving you a look so sharp it could slice steel or telling you exactly what she thought of you, she did it all with an air of self-confidence. It was rapidly becoming clear to me that she marched to the beat of her own drum, one so many people didn't know existed. She didn't care what anyone thought of her, and as far as she was concerned, those opinions didn't exist in her world.
She was confident and strong, ruthless yet gentle.
She was beautiful, always.
But right now, doing absolutely nothing, Raven Archer was breath-taking.
Me?
I was fucked.