Not Negotiable: A Trident Security Series Novella - Book 3.5 (3 page)

Chapter 3

Three Months Later

“God-damn it.” Sighing, Parker sat back in his office chair and flexed his cramped hand. The one thing he hated about his business was the amount of paperwork required for building permits, purchases, and construction bids. And Thursdays were the worst, because he had to sign all the paychecks so they could be distributed the next day. He’d rather be out with his workers, pounding nails over at the construction site of a new strip mall. Instead he was here, reviewing and signing a huge stack of papers his secretary had prepared for him, and after an hour he was only halfway done. New Horizons had seen another company growth spurt recently and it was time he started thinking about expanding the office and maybe bringing in a partner. One of his college buddies was going through a divorce, and since there were no kids involved, he was thinking of relocating to the Tampa area. Parker made a mental note to call the guy in the next few days and see what he thought about coming aboard. The first thing he was going to do though was contract a payroll company because, on Thursdays, it sucked to be him.

Opening and closing his fist, he shut his eyes for a second and thought back to last Sunday night at the club. It’d been his final shift on suspension and he’d been the DM stationed near the spanking benches of all places. Everything had been going well until Master Carter led Shelby over for a scene within ten feet of Parker. Her color for the night had been purple, with her wig, bra, and polka-dot miniskirt all matching as usual. Damn, she’d looked so cute and so delicious. And she’d avoided eye contact with him, just like she’d been doing for past twelve weeks. Twelve
long
weeks.

Every night, it had been getting harder and harder to see Shelby scene-ing with other Doms. Yes, she was selective, but he still couldn’t figure out why he was one of the men she turned down. There had been times in the past when they’d talked at the bar, usually with a few other people, and it appeared they got along. But ever since the night his brother had hit her, she’d been evading him. He didn’t blame her for being mad, but he’d tried to apologize so many times, starting with when he’d driven her home.

Pulling into the parking lot of Shelby’s condo complex, Parker was pleased to see she lived in a nice, safe neighborhood. Aside from giving him directions, she’d remained quiet during the ten minute drive and he found himself wanting to know more about her life outside of the club. Where did she work? Did she have family in the area? What did she like to do for fun when she wasn’t at the club?

As soon as he put the SUV in park, Shelby reached for the door handle. “Thanks for dropping me off.”

Parker growled. Oh, no. No way was she brushing him off tonight. “If you open that door, I’ll throw you over my knee and spank your ass until you can’t sit. And if you think I’m dropping you off in the parking lot, you better think again, Shelby. I brought you home so I could take care of you and this is the last time I’m going to say it—this is not negotiable. Now stay there until I come around and open the door for you.”

Satisfied when her jaw, gaze, and hand all dropped, he climbed out of the truck and walked around the trunk. Kent had already parked her car and tossed him the keys before getting into the other guard’s vehicle and driving away. Pocketing the set, Parker opened the passenger door and held out his hand for Shelby to take. When was the last time she’d been with a Dom, or any man for that matter, outside of the club? One who treated her like the lady she was and opened doors for her or pulled out a chair for her to sit in.

The questions flew from his mind when she placed her hand in his and stood. Her skin was soft and smooth, and when she let go of him, he had to make a fist to keep from snatching her hand back. Half a step behind her and carrying her duffel, he followed her to her unit, then took out her keys and opened the door. She appeared to hesitate a moment before walking in and he wondered if she was worried about being alone with him. He prayed she at least knew him well enough to know he wasn’t anything like his brother, who he’d literally dropped inside the asshole’s motel room door. The now conscious but groggy bastard could either crawl to the bed or sleep on the floor—it didn’t matter to Parker. Dave was lucky he hadn’t been beaten into a coma.

Parker dropped her bag next to the foyer closet, not knowing where Shelby wanted it, and trailed her into the little eat-in kitchen. Walking straight to her refrigerator, he opened the icebox and found one of those frozen icepacks. After wrapping it in a towel he removed from the handle of her oven, he gave it to her. “Put that on your cheek for a bit. Do you have any alcohol—wine or something? Something to stop your shivering.”

“Irish whiskey. Bottom shelf of the pantry.”

He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question her choice, since he could use a shot himself. Locating the bottle in the pantry next to the fridge, he looked at her questioningly and she pointed to an upper cabinet next to the sink. Grabbing two rocks glasses, he filled them a third of the way, then returned the bottle to its perch. Taking the glasses, he turned toward Shelby. “Go sit in your living room and get comfortable. I’m only staying a little while, until I know you’re okay.”

What he didn’t add was that he hoped she wouldn’t want him to leave. Again she hesitated, but he waited patiently. He was determined for her to see the caring, gentle side of him, and maybe he could find out what she had against him. When she finally led the way into her living area, he followed and handed her one of the glasses after she sat on the sofa. There were two recliners and a loveseat, however, he chose the other end of the couch. Close enough to inhale her strawberry-scented shampoo, but far enough away that he wasn’t crowding her.

“You don’t have to stay, Parker. I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you like me?” Okay, that’s not what he expected to blurt out of his mouth, but there it was. From her wide-eyed expression, she hadn’t anticipated it either. “I mean, what have I done that makes you avoid me?”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Parker rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that, Shelby. I’m not stupid. I’ve asked you twice to play at the club and both times you turned me down, so I stopped asking. It’s obvious you want nothing to do with me, so tell me why. I’m a big boy, I can take it. Is it my personality? My looks? Do I have bad breath? What?”

She licked her lips and his eyes zeroed in on the movement. Shaking her head, she stood, left her drink on the coffee table, and began pacing the room. “It’s none of those things. I mean, it’s not you, it’s me.”

“Bullshit. I hate that freaking cliché.” He stood, clunking his untouched drink on the table next to hers. “But I guess if that’s all you’ve got, then there’s no point in me sticking around. I’m sorry about what happened with Dave. You’ll never know how sorry I am.” He let out a heavy breath. He knew he should leave, but there was one thing he had to do first. Stepping toward her, Parker gently cupped her bruised cheek. Not waiting for a response he leaned down and kissed her. Flat out kissed her. If this was the only chance he ever got, he’d take it. For a brief moment, she melted into him and his heart leapt for joy, along with his cock, but then she stiffened and he knew he’d lost her. Hell, he’d never even had her. Releasing her, he gazed at her with all the regret and frustration he felt. “Goodbye, Shelby.”

Damn. Why couldn’t he get past that night? Get past that kiss? He’d jacked off to that kiss more times than he wanted to count. Watching Carter spank her, plug her ass, and finger fuck her to several orgasms last night had driven him fucking bonkers. It was all he could do to keep an eye on the other scenes to make sure no submissives were in danger of being harmed. What he’d really wanted to do was punch the living daylights out of the other Dom and never let another man touch his sweet Shelby.
She’s not yours, you dumb fuck. And she never will be.

His cell phone rang and he groaned when he saw the name on its screen. “Hello, Mother.”

“Parker, it’s so nice to hear your voice. How are you darling?”

Pulling the phone away from his ear, he stared at it in confusion for a moment. Parker’s relationship with his mother was almost as bad as the one with his father. Phone calls were rare and they were never just for niceties. There had to be a reason other than calling to say ‘hello’ like normal people did. He snorted—his family was far from normal. “I’m fine, Mother, and you?”

“Wonderful, dear. I was wondering when you were planning on coming up for a visit. It would be a pleasure to see you again. I ran into Cynthia Holloway yesterday. She’s moved back to Boston and was hoping to see you to catch up on old times.”

All right. A picture was beginning to form, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it was. Cynthia and he had gone to a private high school together, and her parents and his were good friends. They’d been friends as well, who’d gone their separate ways after graduation, despite their parents insistence that they become a couple. She was pretty and sweet, but there had never been a spark between them. He hadn’t seen her since his brother’s wedding five years ago, when they had briefly caught up with each other’s lives.

“I’m not sure when I can get away, Mother. It’s a busy time for me.”

“Too busy to come visit your family? I’m sure your little company can survive without you for a few days.”

He could hear the false pout and condescension in her voice and it made him cringe. Damn. Was his family phony and snobby or what? “Actually, Mother, business is booming. So, yes, I am too busy to visit at the moment. As a matter of fact, I have to take another call. Tell Cynthia I said hello.”

Not waiting for a response, he disconnected the call. Rubbing his index finger over his bottom lipped, he wondered what the call had really been about. His brother had called five times in the last three days, but as soon as Parker heard the first few words of the voicemails to make sure no one was dead or injured, he’d erased them.

A snore came from the floor beside him and he glanced down at his one-hundred-twenty-pound Bullmastiff. That dog could sleep through a bomb going off. He was on his back with all four paws twitching in the air as if he was chasing a dream squirrel—the big goofball. It was days like this the human was jealous of the canine, who lead such a simple, carefree life, now that he’d been rescued by someone who loved him. Aggravated that he wanted to trade places with an animal that drank out of a toilet, Parker did the only thing he could think of to get Shelby and his fucked-up family off his mind—he attacked the remaining stack of paperwork. Damn. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Shelby stared at her image in the mirror and turned to see the dress from every angle. Kristen Anders, soon-to-be-Sawyer, had picked out the most flattering bridesmaid dresses she’d ever seen. The navy, silk, one-shoulder dress stopped right above the knee and could easily be worn again for another occasion—unlike the dress Shelby still had stuffed in the back of her closet from her cousin’s wedding three years ago. That Pepto-Bismol pink, ruffled, satin and taffeta monstrosity had been hideous, especially when paired with the matching parasol she had to carry. A shudder went down her spine at the memory.

“Shelby, you look fantastic in that dress,” Kristen squealed from her seat in the bridal shop showroom. “I’m so glad we all agreed on it because it’s perfect for everyone. And I don’t think you’re going to need as much altering as the others.”

Angie Beckett, who was now engaged to Kristen’s future brother-in-law, and their friend, Kayla London, were being attended to by two seamstresses who were pinning their dresses in all the right places. The fourth and final bridesmaid, Jenn Mullins, the Sawyer brothers’ niece, had just gingerly changed out of her own dress, trying not to stick herself with all the pins that’d been needed. It was a little over two months before the wedding and the girls had decided to go out to lunch after the fittings were done.

Shelby turned around to face Kristen. “I love it and I’m so glad you went with the navy instead of black, which is so played out these days. Did Will get his tuxedo picked out yet?”

Will Anders, Kristen’s cousin, was going to be her man-of-honor, since he’d been her closest friend and relative after her divorce from her cheating first husband. It had been Will who’d influenced her to move to Tampa after the split, resulting in her meeting and falling in love with Devon. Kristen nodded. “Yup. We went the other day and decided to go with a white tux, since the rest of the Sexy Six-Pack and Dev’s brother, Nick, will all be in their Navy dress whites.” The women laughed at Kristen’s nickname for the six former Navy SEALs who made up the Trident Security team. In addition to her fiancé, Devon, and his eldest brother, Ian, the rest of the hunky men were Marco, Brody, Ben Michaelson—also known as Boomer—and Jake Donovan. “It’s one of the reasons I went with a blush colored dress. That and it being my second, and last mind you, wedding. I swear I’m never going through this again. It’s way too stressful.”

Shelby gave her a half-hearted smile. What she wouldn’t give for things to be different and she could experience the stress of planning her own wedding. Instead, she was stressed out about the test results which would be in tomorrow. Last week, while showering, she’d found a lump under her left arm and immediately scheduled a biopsy with her oncologist. Most people would have assumed it was an ingrown hair or waited a few weeks to see if it went away. But after going through cancer once before, Shelby was well aware of the different signs and symptoms to look out for. She was dreading the word she knew in her heart her doctor would say—lymphoma. Hopefully, she’d caught it early again and it would be treatable. Out of all the cancers out there, the statistics for remission were highest for cancer of the lymph nodes. Well, she beat the big ‘C’ before and she could beat it again. For now she was going to try and enjoy the girl’s day out.

Other books

Watch Me by Shelley Bradley
No Quarter by Tanya Huff
The Christie Caper by Carolyn G. Hart
Dresden by Victor Gregg
Weekend Fling by Malori, Reana
The Amish Clockmaker by Mindy Starns Clark
Concluding by Henry Green


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024