Codi
A stream of light hits my face and I open one eye, glancing around the room in the hope that overnight the world had opened wide and swallowed me whole. Unfortunately, my room looks very much the same and I open my other eye, considering the possibility that I’ve entered an alternate universe. One where I didn’t just humiliate myself beyond belief.
God, I’m such a loser.
I never considered my virginal status as an issue. Even now, I don’t consider it a problem. Per se. The fact that I’m keeping it from Parker, could be wrong. Maybe. Or definitely.
But what if it scares him away. Jesus. I’d be a fumbling mess. Definitely not what he’s used to and hardly attractive.
Last night started with so much promise. Until it didn’t. My God, what Parker must think of me. I throw an arm over my eyes, shielding myself from the mortification of the evening before, without success. The events replay in my mind; the heavy make-out session, the expert way in which his large palms caressed my body. I was so turned on.
Until I wasn’t. No that’s not right. I was definitely still incredibly turned on, but as soon as his hand began unbuttoning my jeans, I freaked.
Understatement of the century.
Definitely likely.
And the head-butt.
“Ugh!” I massage my eye sockets with my palms.
“Sounds like you’re strangling a defenseless puppy in here.”
I startle, pushing up onto my elbows, glaring at Camryn. “Should I be concerned that you know what that sounds like?”
She shrugs, sauntering into my room and settling in bed beside me. “Hypothetical.”
I roll over, onto my side, pulling my comforter over my head, groaning loudly.
She pulls it down enough to see my eyes. “What happened?”
“Oh, Ryn,” I sigh, throwing the blanket off and rolling onto my back. “It was a disaster. Everything was amazing until our make-out session started morphing into something more. I freaked.” I cover my face with my hands, shaking my head.
Silence meets my ears and I turn my head, peeking from behind my fingers. Camryn swallows thickly, her eyes shut forcefully to block out the images in her mind. “Did he force it?”
I sit upright. “Oh, God no.” I curse myself for not thinking about my words before I spoke them. I grasp her hand in mine, squeezing tight. “Ryn, I promise, no. I should’ve chosen my words more carefully.”
She offers me a tight smile, her default to the shadows that slice into her soul. “What happened?” she scratches out.
I stay sitting upright, wanting to keep my eyes on hers. “We had dinner, we talked, we laughed. It was amazing. Ryn, really, beyond perfect. We kissed, a lot. It was phenomenal.” My voice sounds breathy, my thoughts back to the feel of his lips on mine, the skillful drag if his tongue against my own.
“A lot of heavy touching,” I continue. “Then his hand started at my pants. I freaked.”
She eyes me suspiciously, a smirk pulling at the side of her mouth. “Describe freaked.”
I blink, holding my eyes closed. “I sat up so fast, I head-butted him; my forehead connecting with his nose. Hard. If that didn’t startle him enough, I then attempted to move, awkwardly rolling off the couch, kneeing him in the—” I wave my hand in the air, indicating to what I can’t bring myself to vocalize. Finally opening my eyes, I look to my sister, expecting sympathy. Understanding of my mortification, even. I should’ve known better. Camryn’s hand covers her mouth, barely containing her wide grin, her eyes dancing with her imminent laughter.
“You head-butted him. In the nose. Kneed him in the balls and then what?” she mumbles behind her palm.
I smash my hand against my forehead, groaning. “I ran. Got up, grabbed my shoes, mumbled something about having to work today and left.”
A loud laugh bubbles from her throat, once, twice, before it cackles heavily into the air. “Oh my God. Fuck, Codi. Did he follow you?”
I chew on my thumbnail, shaking my head. “He was still clutching his, you know—” I wave my hand again, indicating his nether regions and Camryn folds in on herself, her laughter now hysterical as tears stream from her eyes.
I give her a moment. Only a few seconds before I push her. “Ryn,” I whine. “It’s not funny.”
“On the contrary, sister. It’s fucking hilarious.”
She’s right. Humiliating, sure. But still, beyond amusing. I fall back onto the bed, my own laughter mixing heavily with Camryn’s. Every time the sound dies off, it starts back up with more fervor. We’re gasping for air, clutching our stomachs at the pain our excessive laughter causes in our abdomen.
Finally, she exhales heavily, wiping at her eyes. “Fuck me. Has he texted? Called?”
I shrug, my eyes wide as I turn toward her. “I left my purse and cell in his loft. I’m lucky I grabbed my shoes.”
Ryn matches my wide stare, for the briefest of seconds before her laughter overtakes her again.
Her laughter didn’t die down, so I left her to it, marinating in my mortification, Ryn’s incessant cackle taunting me from every corner of our apartment.
Bitch.
Sipping coffee, laden with sugar (of course), I glare at my bedroom door, her laughter having died down to a sporadic chuckle every thirty seconds or so.
Wandering from my room, she smiles at me widely. “I’m sorry,” she almost laughs again. “I’ve just been recreating it in my head. It’s brilliant. On so many levels.”
“I’ve showered, dressed, and made coffee in the time it’s taken you to stop.”
She glances at my appearance, her eyes skating my body before her bottom lip pushes out in thought. “Huh. Haven’t laughed so hard in a really long time.”
Her off-handed comment ceases my scowl immediately and I return her grin with one of my own. “Glad to be of service. Now come, sit,” I urge. “I need your advice.”
Sliding onto a bar stool, she grabs at my coffee, taking a large sip. “Oh, sugar, how I love thee.”
I pour myself another mug, heaping sugar into the dark liquid before adding cream. “What do I do?”
Ryn watches me over the rim of her mug, taking a sip before placing it back on the counter.
“Does he know?”
“I’m a virgin?” I clarify and she nods. “No.”
She tips her head side to side, thinking. “Was he moving for sex or just wanting to touch you?”
“I don’t know,” I state, dropping my elbows to the bench and massaging my temples.
“Are you ready for sex? I know your virginity is intact, but you’re not completely untouched?”
“I’ve done some. Not a lot though.”
“Need to tell him, babe. For your sake and his. He’s a thirty-year-old man, kneeing him in the balls any time he attempts to touch you is gonna wear thin. Fast.”
I groan outwardly, but it’s stuck in a laugh, the sound coming off frustrated and strangled. Exactly how I feel.
“I can see it moving that way with him. I definitely wanted him to touch me, I just panicked. What if he’s creeped out that I’m a twenty-five-year-old virgin?”
She drains the remainder of her coffee, sliding the empty mug toward the sink. “Could go either way. Some dudes freak, some dudes take it as an accomplishment.”
“Look,” she adds. “You could give him a little of something,” she offers. “Use your hand, your mouth. Something to tide him over while you work out what you want. But only if it’s what you want to do. Babe, don’t let yourself feel rushed into anything.” She reaches out to grab my hand. “Promise me.”
“I promise.”
I finish my coffee in silence, Ryn staying to keep me company. The quiet of the morning refreshingly peaceful considering I could overanalyze what Parker will think of me after last night. But I guess it’s out of my hands, if he decides I’m a complete loon and no longer wants to see me, so be it.
Our apartment intercom buzzer sounds and we both glance to the intercom, then back to one another. Shrugging, Ryn leans over pressing the button. “Yello.”
“Codi in? It’s Parker.”
My eyes feel like saucers in my face and I glance nervously at my sister’s wide grin.
“Hey. Hey. Come on up. Take the elevator. Don’t want you to strain any injuries you may’ve endured recently.”
“Ryn,” I screech when I’m confident her hand has released the intercom.
She shimmies off her chair. “Try not to cause him physical injury this time. My abdominal muscles have had enough of a workout.”
I dance awkwardly in the kitchen, turning toward the door, then scurrying back into the kitchen, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to say.
His loud knock echoes through the apartment and I swallow the bile rising in my throat. Exhaling heavily, I move toward the door.
He’s leaning casually against the doorjamb, his head tipped down, my purse held in his hand. His head lifts slowly when the door opens, an amused smirk decorating his mouth.
“Oh my God, Parker.” I move forward, my hands reaching for his face and the slight discoloration of the bruise forming at his right eye socket. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Random fact, I’ve never been assaulted by a woman. Especially one that only seconds prior I was making feel pretty damn good.”
His face is a twisted mix of shock and amusement and I walk forward, into his body, dropping my face into his hard chest. “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”
His large arms come around my body, his feet shuffling forward to move us into my apartment.
“Fun fact about me?” I muffle into his shirt. “I’ve never physically assaulted anyone. In my life. Accidentally or intentionally.”
He laughs, kicking the door closed behind him. “Listen, Sugar. I get that probably escalated faster than you felt comfortable. Future...” he pauses, pushing me back marginally, using a knuckle to lift my chin, allowing him access to my eyes. “Words are good. Far preferable to a knee to the junk.”
I groan loudly. “I’m so embarrassed.”
He throws my purse onto the first available surface he sees. “No need for that. I’m findin’ I’m enjoying your brand of different.”
Relief floods my body and I know that I should use this moment to come clean. To admit why I freaked so badly. But I like the way he’s looking at me. I like the genuine smile, the lack of judgment he’s offering me. I don’t want that to change. Not right now.
“Gonna taste your lips, Sugar. That cool? Or will it earn me another head-butt?”
I narrow my eyes at his teasing. “How long will you hold that against me? Just so I’m aware…”
A smugness crosses his face, a fuck-you-gonna-do-about-it smirk twisting his lips in an incredibly sexy way, a large hand coming up to grab my jaw tightly.
“Because—” I start, but he cuts me off, his mouth crashing down on mine and cutting off not only my meek argument but any thought in my lust clogged brain.
My words break off on a heady moan, his skilled tongue stroking against mine.
Like everything else about Parker Shay, his kisses are authoritative. Dominating. The way he holds me so forcefully in place. He takes ultimate control. And as inexperienced as I am, I know this is how I’d always want to be kissed. The knowledge he’d be completely in control of my body. That he’d take pleasure from me, unapologetically, while giving me mine.
His free hand finds my ass, pulling me aggressively against his solid frame. Against the swelling length tucked into his jeans.
He groans. Or growls. Or does both. The sound rough, desperate and laced with unrivaled need. Exactly like the kiss. I echo his sound with a moan, my hands clutching at his chest, working to get closer.
Pulling back, his teeth bite my bottom lip before letting go. Panting heavily, he scowls down at me, seemingly irritated by the effect of our kiss. His gray eyes darken in their craving; the carnal desire evident in the way they glow. Cavernous in their moonlit shadows, demanding my allegiance.
His hand remains tightly gripped at my jaw, his heavy breathing grazing my skin in a hot current of need. I chase his kiss, attempting to drive my face forward, my need to feel his mouth against mine almost too much.
Parker Shay is addictive. We’re barely acquainted. Still virtually strangers, but when I’m caught in his proximity, I feel powerless in my ability to refute my overwhelming need. Everything about him is fueling an obsession that no longer feels healthy. His kiss. His dominance. The thunder of his temperament. Parker Shay is quickly becoming a habit. A fixation I’m happy to find dependence on.
He may not feel healthy for my soul. He’s definitely dangerous to my well-being. But he feels good. Better than. He feels like a dream I never knew I wanted. He may not feel safe, but all I can yield is that he feels right.
He snarls at my attempt to move, but the sound isn’t hateful, it’s hot. It’s heated. It’s as needy as the whimper that escapes my own mouth.
His lips roughly caress my bottom lip. Then my top. He strokes his tongue against my top lip. Then my bottom. He bites me, his lips following the sting in a harsh touch to ease the sting. Finally, he closes his mouth over mine, giving me what I need. He kisses me severely; his firm grasp of my jaw not easing in the slightest through his attack.
Stepping from my space, his lips are the last of his body to disconnect. He’s one hundred percent immodest in readjusting himself in his dark jeans, his eyes fluttering closed in the movement.
“Kissing shouldn’t be that satisfying on its own. Fuckin’ with my head, Sugar.”
He tips his tongue out, dragging it across the wetness of his lips, an indecent grin tipping the right side of his mouth upward. Looking me over, his eyes drag along my work attire savagely. The lewd graze of his eyes complementing the salacious slide of his smile.
“You’re workin’ today.” He sounds disappointed by his statement, his thoughts clearly having wandered to alternate ways in which we could spend our day.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak; not the words or the sound of my voice.
“I’m workin’ the next few nights, so I won’t see you. Text me, yeah?” Again, it’s a statement, not a question, not a request and I find myself nodding before he’s finished speaking.
“I kiss you again and I’ll most likely find myself with a matching bruise under my left eye socket.” He winks, turning to take the few steps to my front door. “I’ll hear from you.”
I smile like a complete goof, remaining mute for fear of sounding like a total loon if I speak. Instead, I stay rooted to the spot, waving my goodbye, completely giddy that I didn’t scare him away. Not with the head-butt. Not with a knee to balls.
Parker Shay might just be as addicted to me as I am to him.
The door clicks over, Parker no longer in view and I fist pump the air, turning on my heel, my stupid grin remaining firmly fixed on my face for the rest of the day.