Codi
“Your stalker’s out front,” Pia states with an eye roll, sauntering behind the counter to drop her purse.
I glance at her, confused. “Sorry?”
“Your stalker, hot, scary lookin’ dude that was creepin’ up the shop a week or so back.”
I glance to the shop window, searching for any sign of him. “Parker?”
She looks to me, puzzled, evidently having moved past our conversation seconds before. “What?”
I shake my head, dismissing her. “Nothing. I’m going to lunch.”
I break the threshold, my eyes scanning the vicinity for Parker.
“Lookin’ for me?” His breath tickles my ear and I shiver, the whisper of his words skating the whole way down my body.
I haven’t seen him since the coffee shop almost a week ago. Our work hours aren’t exactly complimentary and he’s been short-staffed, working every overnight shift at Ruin.
I turn, smiling wide and stopping myself from my want to launch myself at him. “I thought you’d still be sleeping.”
He shrugs, his large hand coming up to twist a lock of my hair between his fingers, before tucking it behind my ear. “Rocco came back last night from wherever the fuck he was, so he’s pickin’ up the slack now.”
Smiling up at him, I’m surprised at how pleased I am to see him. We’ve been speaking via text message. He’s still virtually a stranger, yet I’ve been craving the chance to see him. To be given the chance to smell him, to touch him.
“I don’t listen to music when I work out.”
My smile falters slightly and I blink up at him, confused. “Sorry?”
“Random fact to know me better, I don’t listen to music when I work out.”
I can’t stop the smile that repositions itself on my face. “That’s odd.” I scrunch my nose up. “So, it’s just white noise floating around you?”
He shrugs, moving to clasp my hand in his. “I prefer to hear the sounds of my workout. My labored breathing, the crack of my knuckles against a punching bag.”
“I don’t work out,” I reply with a lift of my shoulders. “Random fact about me.”
Parker pulls my arm around his waist, moving his own to drape across my shoulders. I lift my hand, the one not wrapped around his waist, to hold his hand hanging over my body and he leans into me, sniffing my hair.
“I missed you,” I confess. “Is that weird? Considering we barely know one another.”
I tip my head to meet his eyes and he pushes his bottom lip out with a quick shake of his head. But he doesn’t speak and he doesn’t tell me he’s missed me back. It’s silly that I’m hurt by that. I shouldn’t expect more.
We’ve walked a dozen silent steps before he speaks, clearing his throat awkwardly as he does. “Like that you’ve been thinkin’ about me.”
I glance down to my shoes to hide the involuntary smile that appears on my face at his declaration.
“Been thinkin’ about you too,” he admits, easing my anxiety. “Mostly been thinking that I’ve seen you a few times now and I still haven’t tasted your lips.”
My feet halt their movement and he turns toward me. I glance along the street, searching and I smile wide when I find it. Grabbing his hand, I pull him behind me and he follows without argument. Moving into the entrance of the alleyway, I plaster my back against the wall, bottom lip caught between my teeth, looking up at him through my lashes. He steps into my body without a need for invitation. Every hard plane of his large frame pushes heavily against every soft curve of mine. It’s intoxicating. It electrifies every nerve in my body. Parker Shay is beautiful. Menacing, but attractive in a way that causes him to seem unattainable. Yet, here he stands, pressed up against my body and focused solely on my lips.
My body. My lips.
My hands move on their own accord, up the solid press of his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck, bringing his face closer to mine. A large palm hits the wall beside my head, the other gripping my jaw tightly.
I could swear in that single moment before his lips meet mine, my heart stops beating. It pauses in my chest, and I stutter around a missed breath. His lips twitch, amusement at the effect he has on me, just as his mouth touches mine.
Electrified. Invigorated. Inflamed.
I don’t know exactly how I feel as Parker’s lips open against mine. What I’m certain of is that nothing I’ve ever felt in the past has come close to the spark that hits me when his tongue lashes into my mouth. It’s gentle, without being soft. Hard, without being obtrusive. It’s devastating. Skilled in a way that tells me he’s done it plenty of times before. In that moment, I don’t care, quite the opposite, in actual fact. I’m grateful to the women that have come before me. Because Parker Shay has just slain me with the beginning of a simple kiss. A quick, rhythmic slice of his tongue against mine and I’m certain that never in my life will another man feel this good.
I meet his fraught need with my own desperation. I kiss him in a way that shows him that I’ve been dreaming about tasting his lips. That I’ve been hating on the fact that in the few times we’ve spent time together, he hadn’t kissed me. It depressed me. It wounded my ego. It made me needy. It made me crazy with want.
This, I tell him through my kiss. He gets it. He groans his understanding. He growls his agreement. I match his sounds with my own, soft unrestrained moans that vibrate against his talented tongue.
The thick bulge in his jeans grows with every brush of our tongues, with every caress of our lips. It pushes into my stomach, relentlessly, persistently, daring me to ignore its presence. Discounting the effect of his swollen arousal would be futile.
I may be inexperienced, but I’m still a woman. A hot-blooded female that has finally found someone to spike a need that up until now has lain relatively dormant. One with desires that enjoys kissing and touching enough to know she’d enjoy more. Much, much more. Specifically, a more with Parker Shay.
Parker’s hand flexes at my jaw, his hips thrusting forward, demanding I feel him and I whimper into his mouth, my tongue ceasing its dance with him to open on the pathetically needy sound.
He drags my bottom lip between his teeth, slowly, letting go to wrap his lips over the same spot in a gentle kiss.
“Sugar,” he grinds, the sound as affected as the moan I’d gifted him only seconds prior. “You kiss like that, you ain’t exactly helping my cause. Now that’s all I’ll be thinking about. Amongst other things.” His eyes glide down the length of my body in a way that makes certain I feel his stare. Goosebumps break along my skin and I shiver. He laughs, the sound almost silent, definitely pained and he shakes his head as he steps back.
“Let’s go eat, your lunch break ain’t got half the time I need to do all the things I want to you.”
Grabbing my hand, he leads me from the alley, not caring to look for oncoming foot traffic. Footsteps falter at our sudden appearance, missteps and stumbles caused from our charge into their path earning us more than a few muttered curse words. Parker pays no attention to the grumbles and expletives, holding my hand tight and pulling me up to his side.
Once again, arm slung over my shoulder he walks us amongst the crowd, glancing down at me to offer me the briefest hint of a smile, shaking his head at whatever thought pops into his head.
“Oh my God, I live on Fifth,” I state and his eyes widen momentarily at my declaration. “Only two blocks away.”
“Convenient.” He raises a teasing eyebrow and I roll my eyes.
He ignores the gesture, taking a large bite of his burger before washing it down with a sizeable swallow of water from his glass.
“Take you to dinner tomorrow night, if you’re free.”
I cover my mouth as I chew, nodding my head. Swallowing the mouthful of food, I dab my mouth with my napkin. “I’d like that.”
He watches me for a second, nods his head once and returns to his lunch. We eat in relative silence, which is strangely nice, enjoying one another’s company enough not to have to fill the quiet with useless chatter. His gaze sits on me at times, drawn out looks that I can’t quite read. For that, I can’t tell if I enjoy him looking at me that way. The storm in his eyes so vibrant, I can’t tell if they’re shining on me with animosity or affection. So I choose to ignore it. Refuse to read into it any further than I need to.
He asks sporadic questions, none of them deep, all surface information to get to know me. He never shows a reaction to an answer, only offering a slight chin lift and nod of his head in acknowledgment. He artfully evades the few questions I ask him; answering with a question of his own or providing the most basic response he can muster. I give him that. This time. I’m not ready to push him away again by pushing further than he wants to go with sharing.
He touches me often, reaching across the table to take my hand in his or brush a thumb across my knuckles. It’s nice, the unconscious acts of affection he shows. I like that. A lot.
Glancing at my watch, I pout. “I gotta head back. Leaving Pia in the shop unattended is…” I shake my head on a loaded exhale of air, unwilling to search for the right word to describe my less than ideal work colleague.
Parker stands, his height towering above mine as I take his hand. “I’ll walk you back.”
He doesn’t hold hands. Not for long anyway. He’ll take it to pull me closer. To help me up. But that’s it. He’ll always let go. I’m not disappointed by it though. Because he does one better, he’ll throw his arm along my shoulder and pull me tightly into his side.
Each. And. Every. Time.
He wants me close. And that’s exactly where I want to be.
He walks me back to Blaq with little conversation, his eyes staring ahead. Arriving back, he pulls me flush into his body, hugging me tightly to him. I look up as he looks down, his lips moving down to touch mine. He kisses me much like before; deep and hungry. I’m too caught up in the feeling of his mouth to care we’re in the middle of the street, surrounded by people.
Pulling back, he steps from our embrace, the corner of his mouth teasing up in the telltale sign of his smirk. “Second fact for the day, you don’t need to pull me into an alleyway to kiss me.” His smirk widens forming itself into a grin and I can’t help but return it. “Happy for every fucker in this city to know you’re mine. And I’ll touch and kiss my woman wherever and whenever the fuck I want.”
“Noted,” I whisper.
He winks, turning to walk away before glancing over his shoulder. “Text me your address, Sugar. Pick you up at eight.”