Parker (Rich & Single #2) (9 page)

Parker rolled upright again, and then he got off the bed entirely, stripping off his socks and pants and underwear and dropping them all in a pile on the floor.

Tara lay on the mattress with her head resting against one palm and watched him. “Gotta give it to you. Some guys don't look nearly as good under the clothes as their biceps imply.” She rolled up to sit, and then slid off the bed, too, running her hands along the rippled muscles of his abdomen and then up along his pecs. “But you—damn! You look really fucking good.”

“I do work out for a living. That probably helps.”

Her eyes widened suddenly. “Ho-ly shit!! You're
that
Parker? How the fuck did I not figure that out sooner?”

“Slow on the uptake?”

Parker laughed, but she didn't. She swatted at his arm with one hand.

“Don't make fun of me. That's mean.”

“I'm not making fun of you. I'm just suggesting solutions to the problem you seem to be having currently.”

Tara swatted him again, and he ducked away, laughing, then caught her around the waist and tossed her onto the mattress. She landed with a bounce, and levered herself up on her elbows to blow a kiss at him, her legs falling open wide in invitation. Parker didn’t need to be asked twice.

Parker climbed onto the bed and up between her thighs, leaning over to claim her mouth while he pulled her underwear down and threw them off to the side with the rest of their clothes.

“Any requests?” he asked again, nipping at the lobe of her ear between words. “Preferences?”

“Fuck me,” she breathed in answer. “Hard. I want to feel it.”

He could work with that.

Parker's fingers traced the curve of her mound, and then slid lower, where she was wet. He circled a fingertip over her clit until she was writhing under him, rocking into the touch, and then he slid a finger inside her. She pressed into it, trying to take him deeper, and he added a second, and then a third. She was gasping, one hand wrapped around his bicep, the other curled in the sheets. Her spine arched when moved, her head tossing against the mattress.

“Okay. Come on. Parker.”

He wrapped both hands around her thighs, pressing them upward to lift her hips, and then he shifted in closer and pressed inside her in one long slide. She hissed through her teeth, toes curling.

“Like that?” he asked, pulling back and picking up the pace, taking her deeper.

“Yeah. Fuck.”

His hands slid down to cup her buttocks, pulling her to meet him. Her calves rested over his shoulders, and he turned his head to brush his lips against the curve of one, nipping gently at the muscle.

“Harder.”

Parker gave her what she wanted. Faster. Harder. She arched into him and tried to get the leverage to meet the motion with her own body, but she was caught under his weight and had to take what he decided to give her. Lucky for Tara, he wasn't in a teasing mood. There had been enough of that on the dancefloor. He wanted her, and he wanted her now.

So he took her.

He was panting, the sounds of their ragged breath mingling in the space between them. Her hand wrapped tighter around him, and he leaned down to steal a kiss, both of them breathless.

“How's this, babe?”

“Perfect. You're perfect. Fuck. Don't stop.”

“Not going to stop. Not until you come, screaming my name, Tara.”

She moaned and he grinned, biting her shoulder just hard enough to leave a little bit of a lingering sting. His tongue stroked over the spot, soothing the slight hurt, and then again.

Her legs were trembling. Parker picked up the pace again, straightening up enough to get the right leverage. His hands slid upward, pulling her back to meet him. Her hair spilled out over the pillow underneath them, and he reached up to tangle his fingers in it, feeling the soft fall of it against his hands. The way he'd wanted to feel Jennifer's.

Fuck. Jennifer was not who he was supposed to be thinking about right now. He was not supposed to be thinking about Jennifer in bed at all. Ever. She was his rival. He was going up against her in a challenge, not rolling around with her in the sheets. She'd been right, though, when she'd said he wanted to sleep with her. Damn it, though… he did. But there was another woman in his bed.

Parker turned his attention back to her, slowing a little, then faster. She moaned again, a string of them, pitch rising with each one, and he grinned down at her.

“Going to come for me, babe? Going to scream my name? Come on. Say it. Give it to me. I want it.”

He leaned down and tugged gently at a nipple with his teeth, and she went over the edge, not quite screaming, the syllables of his name stumbling together on her lips.

“That's it. Fuck.”

She was trembling with the explosion of pleasure, but he didn't stop, pushing on through it, hands tilting her hips up higher as they moved together. He flicked his tongue over the nipple in his mouth, and then again, and she caught at his arms with both hands.

“Mmm. Parker.”

“Going to make you come again, babe. Yeah?”

“Fuck.” Her voice caught on the word. “Yeah. Parker. Please.”

He shifted, and kissed her. It was slower now, the motion between them, but she wasn't complaining. Parker ran his hands up the curves of her hips, her sides, feeling her body underneath his palms. Her skin was smooth and soft, warm and flushed from their exertion. The kiss was unhurried. He pulled back a little, nipping at her lower lip, and then stole another. And another.

“Come on,” he said when he pulled back. “Fuck.”

She gasped when he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, and he growled. Slow had been good for a minute, but he was getting close; wanted to make her fall over the edge again with him. So he moved faster, pushed them both toward orgasm. He could hear her panting what might have been his name, moaning. He moved faster.

Tara came, arching into him and moaning his name again. Parker followed, pleasure sparking under his skin, and didn’t say a name at all. But the one he was thinking wasn’t hers.

There was something to be said, Parker thought, waking the next morning and stretching in the sunlight that spilled through the window, for leisurely weekend sex. Or, not so leisurely. He grinned at nothing. They’d made a marathon of it.

Tara was still asleep beside him, curled against his ribs, so Parker didn't move just yet. He slipped one arm under his head, and looked up at the ceiling, the smile lingering on his lips. It had been fun, last night. It was always fun. And Tara had been a good choice. He rolled over enough to look down at her where she was still dead to the world, her chest rising and falling with her breath. In the morning light, there were gold highlights in her blonde hair.

It was a pretty sight, but Parker wasn’t exactly the sentimental sort. After another moment of enjoying the view, he shifted himself out from under Tara, careful not to jostle her awake, and set his feet on the floor. She stirred, mumbling something sleepy, but didn’t wake. He stepped into the closet to dress.

When he emerged, he pulled a notepad from the nightstand drawer and jotted down a quick message.

Tara,

Out for a run. Feel free to grab something from the fridge if you’re hungry. I’ll be back about 10am, if you need to leave before then you can use the phone to call a cab.

Parker

He left it sitting on his pillow, and headed out into the main room to lace up his shoes, then down to the street level.

Running had always cleared his head and as he jogged down the street, Parker turned his thoughts to Jennifer and the challenge. He'd thought about her the night before. It didn't hit him until that moment. In bed with Tara, he'd thought about Jennifer.

It wasn't too far out of left field. She had been in his favorite diner, deliberately teasing him, and it wasn't like she wasn't hot. But thinking about her wasn't what he wanted to be spending his time doing when he had another hot girl laid out underneath him. She was a bit of a bitch, and thinking about her would only make him want what he couldn't have.

Honestly, he didn't understand what her issue was. She could have made it a friendly challenge. They were competitors, but that didn't mean anyone had to be a dick about it. Parker shook his head, and ran a little faster.

Maybe it was all just for show. But she'd said that it wasn't, hadn't she?

The bottom line was that he was going to have to deal with her for as long as the challenge took. He could do that, Parker told himself, feet pounding against the concrete of the sidewalk. Whatever she threw at him, he could take it. And he wasn't going to fall for her little tricks anymore. The seductions and teasing. She could flirt with him as much as she wanted to. He had other options, plenty of women just as hot as she was who were more than happy to fall into bed with him. If Jennifer Leandra wanted to play hardball, he could play just as hard.

He turned a corner and started down a long stretch of straight street. Maybe he'd go run the Brooklyn Bridge next weekend. It had been a while since he'd done that, and he always enjoyed it. It would be a nice break from the usual routine. Take a run along the Hudson and out to Brooklyn and back.

Another mile, and the worries about the contest and Jennifer faded, replaced with the simple euphoria of exercise. This was what he did it for, this sensation of flying, racking up the steps that fell away under his feet. Parker smiled, and pushed himself a little faster.

By the time he turned back into his apartment complex, he was sweating, but there was a grin on his face that didn't fade as he stepped into the elevator that would take him up to his apartment. He leaned back against the wall, his breathing slowing back to normal.

Whatever happened with Jennifer would happen, and he’d be okay. His company was built on more than cheap gimmicks. They had what it took to go the distance—and he had loyal people. People like Jackson, like his clients. They weren't going to leave him. If the rest of the world decided that one contest could make or break a company, Parker had no doubt that they'd work through that, too.

He stepped out of the elevator and into the apartment.

Tara was standing at the stove, humming to herself as she flipped eggs, and wearing nothing but a T-shirt she must have pulled out of his closet. For a moment, Parker realized what Jackson had been saying before, about coming home to someone. Maybe it wouldn't be half bad, coming back from a run every weekend to find his girlfriend in the kitchen, wearing his clothes.

Except it wouldn't always be like this, would it? If he had a girlfriend, there would be days that they would fight, and he'd come home to find her in a bad mood, refusing to speak to him. Or he'd come home in a bad mood, and ignore her at the stove; go and shut himself up in his room for an hour until he was ready to speak to her nicely. Inevitably, the arguments would get worse, and they would break up. It would be messy, and painful, and Parker wanted no part of it. He shook his head. He wasn't going to let thoughts like that ruin the high of his run. There was no girlfriend, there would be no breakup. There was just Tara, looking cute as hell with his too-large shirt slipping off one shoulder, and he stepped up behind her to wrap his hands around her hips.

“I'm glad you took advantage of the fridge. Some girls are too shy to.”

She laughed, and turned her head enough to look up at him. “I'm not really the shy type of girl, in case you hadn't guessed. Anyway, I figured you would be hungry after that run. And last night.” She smirked. “So I thought it would alleviate any uncertainty about using your food if I made you some, too.” She turned the stove off, and slid bacon and eggs onto a pair of plates just as the toast popped up. “I know it's not terribly gourmet,” she said, slipping out of his hands to go butter the toast and drop that on the plates with the rest. “But I'm more of a meat and potatoes kind of cook when I cook at all, and I figured if it was in your fridge it was probably something that you liked.”

Parker grinned. “Don't worry about simple. I'm all for that. And this smells fucking delicious. I'm just going to go rinse off in the shower, and then I'll be in to eat.”

For the first time, she seemed to notice the way his shirt clung to his skin. She licked her lips. “Or, you could maybe not shower. Just a suggestion.”

“If I don't shower, I'll be disgusting later.”

Tara shook her head. “Nope. No disgusting. Sit down. Eat. And then I'll clean your back.” She paused on the way to the table. “Unless you've got somewhere you need to be?”

That offer of a shower sounded good. Parker poured two glasses of water, and set one at each plate. Then turned back to the counter. “Nope. Saturday’s my day off. I've got nowhere to be.” While he spoke, he assembled the ingredients for a protein shake, which he poured into the blender. It was a matter of minutes to mix it all up, and then he took that over to the table with the rest.

“What a lucky coincidence. I also have nowhere to be. At least not until...” She pulled her phone off the table next to her and glanced at it. “Seven this evening. Unlike you, I don’t get Saturday off.”

“So what is it that you do?”

“Well, I’d love to tell you that I’m an up and coming actress, with a rising star in the cinema, but honestly I just play extras in daytime shows and make TV commercials.”

“Everyone has to start somewhere. You’ll get where you want to go eventually, if you know where you want to go and you’re ready to work to get there.”

“Are you giving me life advice now?”

Parker laughed, and took a bite of his eggs. “Sorry. It’s kind of a habit.”

They fell silent for a few minutes, both of them absorbed in chewing, and when the conversation started up again it was about his work. Did he train anyone really exciting? What was his favorite part of the job?

When breakfast was over, Parker dumped the dishes in the sink, and took Tara to the shower, where his back wasn’t the only thing that got washed.