In Your Eyes: Parker and Megan (Man of the Month Book 6) Page 9

  She rolled her eyes. “Hanging up now.”

  “Love you, too.” And then the line went dead.

  “Asshole,” she muttered, but she felt a million times better. So much so that when Parker finally did arrive, and she buzzed him through the gate, she was actually smiling.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said, swooping an arm around her and pulling her close so that he could kiss her very thoroughly. “That smells incredible.”

  “Spaghetti sauce. My mom’s recipe. It’s the only thing I do well in the kitchen, I warn you now.”

  “I think we can muddle through despite that defect in your character.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the sensation of his fingertips brushing her skin making her shiver. “How much time do we have before dinner’s ready?”

  “As much as we want.” Already her pulse was kicking up, from nothing more than proximity to this man. “I haven’t put the pasta in yet.”

  “Then maybe I could suggest an appetizer?” He tilted his head so that he was looking up, toward the bedroom on the second floor.

  “I—” She swallowed, then took a step back out of his arms. “Oh, crap, Parker. Why were you late?”

  He gaped at her, clearly befuddled. “Since when does ten minutes count as late?”

  “Since now,” she said. “Dammit, Parker. I must really be falling for you.”

  Now he looked even more confused. “Normally, I’d say that was a good thing. Why do I feel like you’re about to rip me a new one?

  “Usually, I hold stuff in. But with you—oh, fuck. Who was she, Parker? Who was the skanky bitch you were kissing earlier today?”

  His brows rose, and he actually looked like he was going to laugh.

  “Stop it, you jerk,” she said, kicking him. Which really wasn’t a good idea since she was in bare feet and the muscles of his calf were rock hard.

  “Skanky, huh? Oh, this is priceless.”

  “Do not even pretend to not know what I’m talking about. I saw you with her. Red hair. Gorgeous. And you kissed her right in front of your condo. On the sidewalk for the whole damn world to see. Is she the reason you’re late?”

  “You were at my condo? Why didn’t you come up?”

  It was her turn to gape at him. “Um, hello? Kissing another woman? Not conducive to the whole welcoming vibe.”

  He slid around the breakfast bar to enter her kitchen, then poured a glass of wine from the open bottle on the counter. He passed it to her, then kept it for himself when she refused it, instead looking at him like he was insane.

  He took a sip and leaned back against the counter. “The jealousy’s a little cute, but you might want to cut it back just a bit.”

  “Dammit, Parker, you said I wasn’t a one off. But the way you looked at her. Like she was someone you love. It—I mean, I—oh, hell.” Her voice broke, and tears filled her eyes. She turned away, only to turn back when his hands closed on her shoulders and he gently shifted her around, then pulled her to him.

  “Oh, baby,” he said, holding her close and resting his chin on her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have egged you on like that.”

  “Who was she?”

  “My sister,” he said gently. “And you saw me kiss her like this.” He drew her close and wrapped her in a loving hug, then pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Is that how you want me to kiss you?” he asked, his lips brushing her face as he asked the question, butterfly soft and so very enticing.

  She shook her head, almost afraid to speak for fear of spoiling the moment.

  “No? Well how about this?” Before she had a chance to respond, his mouth closed over hers, soft at first, and then hard and demanding. She parted her lips, moaning when his tongue slipped inside, tasting and teasing as the power of the kiss built and his fingers snaked through her hair, cupping the back of her head so that he could hold her still under the sensual onslaught.

  It felt as though the kiss would last forever. As though it would erase all time, all space. That the world would drop away around them and there would be nothing left but her and Parker and the electricity of their connection.

  She was breathing fast when he finally broke away, though his eyes stayed locked on her. She saw his chest rise and fall, and knew that his heart was pounding just as hers was.

  Then he brushed her cheek and shook his head a fraction of an inch. “You have nothing—nothing—to be jealous of. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, a little frazzled, a little giddy. “I’m sorry. I saw her and I thought—”

  He held her. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry to have worried you. But baby, there’s nothing to worry about.” He bent his head then brushed her lips. “How would you feel about skipping dinner?”

  Honestly, right then she would have happily agreed to stripping naked and making love on the floor. But all she said was, “I’d feel just fine about that.”

  His grin suggested that he knew the full extent of what she’d left unsaid. “I’m taking you upstairs now. You might want to move the sauce to the fridge. Because I intend to keep you occupied for a very long time.”

  “That sounds like heaven to me.” She put the lid on, then slipped the pot into the fridge. She started to turn back to him, but ended up squealing when he hoisted her up and tossed her over his shoulder. “You nut! Put me down. If you hurt yourself so you can’t make love to me, I’m going to be so irritated.”

  “Not happening,” he said, settling her gently on the bed and going to work on her clothes. “Besides, I’d be more than happy to make love to you even if I was in traction.”

  She snorted, then peeled her jeans the rest of the way off and leaned over to start unbuttoning his. “Very romantic.”

  “Everything with you is romantic.”

  She sighed, not willing to make a joke out of that, because she felt exactly the same way.

  He straddled her, his already hard erection rubbing enticingly over her belly as he bent forward then gently teased each of her breasts with his fingers before lowering his mouth to suck and lick and tease and tickle.

  She squirmed beneath him, her heart pounding, her inner thighs already slick with need. “Please, Parker. Don’t wait. I want it fast—we can take our time after. But right now, I just need to feel you inside me.”

  He met her eyes, his full of desire. “Baby, I wouldn’t dream of making you wait.” Slowly, deliciously slowly, he eased down her body. Then he shifted so that he was on his knees and he lifted her hips, drawing her up so that his cock teased her center and her legs were spread wide. The position felt wicked and a little wild, but the moment he drew her close, his body thrusting forward as he eased inside of her, she knew this was going to be a new route to heaven.

  He took her that way at first. Filling her so deliciously. And then, as she trembled, he shifted so that his body was hard and heavy above her. Faster and deeper he thrust inside her, and she urged him on, her fingers tight around his neck, her nails digging into him as she rose higher and higher, her body spinning out, losing touch, coming close to the sweet explosion.

  “Parker. I’m close. Oh, please.”

  “Come with me, baby,” he demanded, his hand reaching between their bodies to tease her clit and edge her the final way over, so that they exploded together, wild and hot and sweaty and sated.

  When she had her wits back, she breathed in deep, her mind in a muddle, her body so deliciously satisfied. “You’re amazing,” she said, and he murmured the same back to her, then held her close as she ran a finger lightly over his chest until he finally put his hand over hers and simply pressed it close. “Stop that,” he said, laughing. “It tickles.”

  “Punishment for all you did to me. Some of that tickled, too.”

  “Oh, did it?” He rolled over, pinning her down. “I think I just might have to tickle you a bit more.”

  She squealed, but the sound was cut off by his kiss—and then by the way his stomach growled.

  He looked at her, his expression sheepi
sh. “I guess it might be time for that spaghetti.”

  “I guess so.” Laughing, she got out of bed, then pulled on the yoga pants and tank top that were hanging over the back of the recliner by the window.

  She peeked outside once she was dressed, then frowned. “It’s there again.”

  “What is?” he asked, coming to her side once he’d pulled his jeans on.

  “I keep seeing this black car.” She grimaced. “It’s making me paranoid. When I left LA—never mind.”

  He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Tell me.”

  “There was a car in LA,” she admitted. “And other stuff, too.” She felt the tightness in her chest as she began to talk. “I’m sure it was Carlton, though I couldn’t ever prove it.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “But what makes you think so.”

  She frowned, wondering what made Parker so sure, but filed it away to ask later. So far, she hadn’t told him about what happened in LA, and right then it seemed terribly important to get it off her chest.

  “We dated for about four months,” she began, and Parker nodded.

  “I remember when you got together. I asked you out right after you two started dating. You were sweet about it, but told me that even though you and Carlton had just started going out, that you weren’t comfortable seeing two men at the same time.”

  “You suggested I dump him and go out with you,” she recalled, then sighed. “Boy, do I wish I had.”

  He took her hand. “Water under the bridge. Tell me the rest.”

  She drew a breath. “At first it was okay. But in the weeks before I finally broke up with him, he got weird. Creepy weird.”

  “How?”

  “He used to drive by my apartment at night, then he’d call to ask where I was if he didn’t see my car.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “He’d interrogate me. Ask me what I’d been doing and who I was with. And about the same time, he started sending me specific clothes—saying I needed to wear one thing or another to a party or on a date, and then getting irritated if I said I’d planned something else.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “There was other weird stuff, but that started the ball rolling, and I broke up with him.”

  “I remember when you did. I suspected the reason was something like that, although since he never seemed your type, I thought that might have been why you broke up.”

  She cocked her head, studying him. “I didn’t realize you were paying attention. Especially since I’d turned you down.”

  He pulled on his shirt. “I told you in New Orleans—I was attracted to you long before I actually asked you out. So it always irked me that Carlton had what I wanted.” His head emerged, and he smiled at her. “But now I win,” he teased, making her laugh as he sat beside her on the bed.

  “Seriously, there was a group of us who went out for drinks about once a week. Carlton talked the most about who he was dating and what was going on. He didn’t talk much while you were together, but once you broke up … well, let’s just say his ego was sorely bruised.”

  “Jerk,” she said. “He started stalking my house. I can’t prove it, but I know it was him. I’d see a black sedan, and then it would disappear. And calls from blocked numbers. And flowers sent without any card that would say creepy things. One said You look beautiful in your pale blue nightie. But I’d never worn that for him. I bought it as a break-up present to myself. Which meant he had to have been looking through my window.”

  She shivered, and he wrapped his arms around her, keeping her warm. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Do you think the car you just saw out the window has something to do with Carlton?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know.” She closed her hands over his at the waist. “It’s just a black car. I see them pretty much everywhere. I think it’s just a trigger, you know. Something that calls it all back and makes me fear I’m not done with Carlton.”

  “You are,” he said fiercely. “You know if that bastard came back, I’d protect you.”

  She smiled up at him. “My hero.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I look after what’s mine.”

  She turned in his arms. “Am I?”

  “What?”

  “Am I yours?”

  “Oh, baby, yes.” He started to kiss her again, then paused, his attention drawn to the window. “Look,” he said, as a spry elderly woman with a cane approached the car. The driver emerged, opened the back door for her, and when the woman was settled, he got back in and the car took off.

  She caught Parker’s eye, then laughed. “Well, I promise I wasn’t imagining the things that happened in LA. It was—well, there was more of it.” She drew in a breath. “It’s why I left like that. My sister stayed way too long with an abusive, paranoid, stalking asshole. And that wasn’t a mistake I was willing to make.”

  “I’m glad you left,” he said. “Carlton was obsessed. He might have gotten tired and stopped. But he might have hurt you, too.”

  She frowned. “It sounds like you know what you’re talking about.”

  “I do. He told me. Or some of it.”

  She gaped at him. “What?”

  He rubbed his fingers to his temples, then turned away from her. “One night after the others left, he told me how pissed he was. How you’d humiliated him. How he was going to make you pay. I told him he was being an ass. That he needed to put you in the past and move on, and that you don’t stalk ex-girlfriends. I don’t remember exactly what he said, but it was clear he’d already started harassing you, and that he was going to make it worse. Was going to start talking smack about you to your clients, that kind of thing.”

  “Good God.” She felt cold, and any doubts she’d had about leaving LA faded. “I never—I don’t think he did. I stay in touch with Kasey, and she would have told me.”

  “I convinced him not to.”

  “You did? How?”

  His eyes were flat, his expression stone. “I beat the shit out of him, honestly. And I told him if he did anything more to you—anything at all—I’d finish the job.”

  “Parker…”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have, but Christ, the things he talked about doing to you. I just—”

  She cut him off, taking his hand in hers, then sliding into his arms. “Thank you,” she whispered, then captured his mouth with a long, slow kiss.

  When she broke away, she met his eyes, her body shimmering with desire. “I don’t think we’re going to manage dinner at all,” she said, taking his hand and leading her back to the bed. “Right now, all I’m hungry for is you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Faster,” Megan ordered as Parker whipped in and out of traffic. “I don’t want to be late for the shoot. And neither do you.”

  Even though The Fix had rented a van, Megan had texted Eva last night to say that she was going to visit the various locations on her own. If it turned out they’d forgotten anything needed for any of the shoots, she could make a quick run to the store.

  And she’d casually mentioned that Parker would ride with her. Just to keep her company, of course.

  Uh-huh, Eva had texted back. You do that.

  The fact was, Megan’s role at the shoot was minimal. Most of the guys wouldn’t need makeup, and even blemishes didn’t need to be covered—not that these six guys had any—because Eva could take care of it during editing.

  Still, Parker had to be there for the whole thing, and so Megan was coming not just as the makeup artist, but also as the general gopher for the shoot.

  A shoot they were going to be late for. Because of sex.

  She grinned at the thought.

  “What?” Parker asked, shooting a glance at her.

  “Eyes on the road,” she ordered. They were in his Ferrari, her make-up case practically filling the tiny trunk. “And I was thinking what a wanton woman I’ve become. Almost late for work because I overslept, exhausted from the lingering effects of too much sex.”

  “Hmm. Well, I suppose we could c
ut back…”

  “Do not even tease me about that,” she said sternly, making him laugh.

  They drove for a few more minutes as she mentally ran through the plan for the day. It was going to be a long one. She frowned, then turned to him with a sudden thought. “Hey, your sister doesn’t live in town, does she? Is her home in Houston?”

  His laugh held no humor. “No. When she walked away from the family, she moved to Connecticut. She’s married now with a husband and daughter and a big old house they always seem to be restoring.”

  “So I did totally monopolize your time with her. I’m so sorry. And now you don’t get to see her today either?” She couldn’t believe she’d been so thoughtless.

  He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it before taking hold of the wheel again. “You’re sweet to think about it, but no. She was only in town for the day to pick up some trial packets.”

  Megan made a whooshing motion over her head.

  “That’s right. I haven’t told you.” He glanced at her, flashing a smile. “I think about telling you so much that I forget what we haven’t talked about.”

  The meaning of those words filled her with joy, and she sighed happily as she told him to go ahead and tell her right then.

  “Did you pay attention to the list of charities we made for the Mr. June contest?”

  She shook her head. “Probably should have, what with my job and all. But I’ve been a little distracted.”

  “My donation went to the International Center for the Treatment and Study of Autism. I’m no longer on the board, but five years ago, I was one of the founding members.”

  She stayed quiet, anticipating where he was going, but not wanting to interrupt.

  “Becky—my sister—well, her daughter is autistic. Severely so.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Cecily,” he said, his face lighting up. “She’s my only niece, so maybe I’m biased. But I’m pretty sure she’s the most adorable little girl on the planet. She’s eight now. Diagnosed at three. And she’s one of the reasons I founded PCM. We manufacture a wide range of pharmaceuticals, but most of our R&D goes to autism. And Cecily is in all the trials. Right now, we’re testing a topical treatment, and although the data hasn’t been fully analyzed, based on Becky’s anecdotal evidence, I think we may have found something.”