Addicted to Mr. Parks (The Park #2) (6 page)

Chapter Eight

I walked to Parks’s red sporty Jaguar that was parked outside the hospital with Parks’s hand firmly clasped around my waist. I told him I could walk just fine, but as always, he didn’t listen.

“No Cleaver?”

“He’s getting a few things for me.” His chivalry rules were still intact as he opened the door for me to climb in. He made sure I was settled, helping me with my seat belt.

The air inside the car sizzled with tension when he climbed in. Tension from unspoken words, uncomfortable silence, and sexual need. I could still feel the sizzling heat that radiated between us. If possible, it had turned up a thousand notches and was apparent as ever.

“Where have you been staying?” he asked as he pulled out and headed into traffic.

I sighed heavily. “With my parents, but please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t want to, but we will at some point.”

“So we’re clear, I’m just staying with you until I get back on my feet, yes?”

I watched his hands tighten around the steering wheel. “We’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes. He was impossible. “Am I staying at your hotel?”

A wry smirk tugged at his deliciously full lips. “We will both be staying in Kensington.”

My eyes shot to his. “Both?”

He nodded once. “That’s what I said.”

He thought we could both haul up in the same space? “We can’t live together.”

“Why not?”

“Because…we’re not a couple. I mean, not properly. And even if we were, isn’t it a bit soon?”

“You and Steph weren’t a couple.”

“We were friends. That’s different.”

“Didn’t you refer to me as a friend at one point? Besides, I thought we’d surpassed friendship.”

“That was until you left me,” I mumbled, crossing my arms petulantly and staring out the window.

“I didn’t leave you.” His growl was a warning. “I needed time to think.”

“That’s what it was.” My sarcasm was back, and I loved it.

“Yes. And I promise I will make it up to you and pass the stage of
friend zone
.”

“You’re such a douche.” I chuckled, watching his legs shift and his hands on the steering wheel as he controlled the car.

“So you’ve said.” He smirked.

Parks drove into the underground car park at his apartment, and we were promptly met by Cleaver pulling up beside us. I unbuckled my seat belt and stayed in position, waiting for him to open my door.

“Hi,” I greeted Cleaver with a smile, and he gave a warm one back.

“Evey, how are you feeling?”

“As rough as a badger’s arse.”

He chuckled huskily. “I do love British phrases.”

I smiled along with him, then we both glanced towards Parks, who was watching us impatiently.

“Finished?”

Clever cleared his throat. “Wade, I have your order in the trunk for you.”

“Thank you. Would you bring them up?”

“Certainly. Oh, and I wanted to inform you that David hasn’t stopped calling.”

Parks’s groan informed me that whoever David was, he was a pain in his arse. “Was I spotted entering the hospital?” Cleaver nodded, which made Parks groan again. “Tell him I’ll call him later.”

Parks steered me over to the lift with his hand firmly pressed on the small of my back. I glanced up at him, perplexity settling in. “You let him call you Wade?”

He pressed a code in the keypad, then turned back to me. “Cleaver is like family to me, Evelyn. Of course I do.” He gestured for me to enter the lift first as the doors opened, and he followed behind, pushing in another code when were inside.

“Who’s David?”

His lips tweaked. “Nosy, aren’t you? He’s my publicist and a big pain in my ass.”

Thought so. “Why?”

He pressed his lips to my temple. “He just is.” Parks changed the subject by telling me the passcode to get into his apartment and handed me an ID card. Wow. Talk about snazzy. What was wrong with a normal key?

His Kensington apartment was beautiful. A fish tank to the left of the lobby, the spiral staircase. The panoramic views out to the city, and stunning décor. It was perfection. Just like him.

“Go on up. I have to collect a few things from Cleaver.” He gestured to the stairs, so I made my way up and into the living/kitchen area. Parks came up the stairs with Cleaver shortly following behind. Cleaver placed six glossy bags onto the kitchen counter, nodded to us both, then headed back downstairs. My curious eyes glanced across the bags.

“Why do you have Myla bags?”

Parks loosened his tie and smirked. “I like to dress up on occasions.”

I scoffed out a laugh. “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“Well, don’t ask ridiculous questions. They’re for you. Take them into the bedroom. I’ll be in shortly. I just have to make a few calls.” He handed me the bags and bent down to press a tender kiss to my forehead. Normally, I would have flinched because it was an action that affectionate couples did, but I didn’t this time. I accepted it and actually closed my eyes to relish it.

I picked up the bags and made my way up another set of stairs and into his bedroom to settle them on the bed. I emptied the Myla one first, and out fell a duck-egg baby-doll. I took it into my palms. It was soft satin, short, and had gorgeous lace trimming by the breast lining. Along with it was a matching silk wrap with widened arms. After emptying the whole bag, I noticed there were also ones in black, red, and white. Jesus. This is what he wanted me to wear to bed? Normally I wore comfy PJ bottoms and whatever top I pulled out of my wardrobe first. I opened a second bag, Agent Provocateur, and pulled out more baby-dolls to sleep in. I took another bag, and inside was a pink lace bra with a matching provocative lace thong that had three strings at the back. There was another white bra, but the material was completely see-through. The matching thong was the same. My backside fell down onto the bed while I held the garments in my hand and breathed out a long, dragged breath. I felt a little overwhelmed by it all. Flopping back onto the bed, I threw my arm over my eyes. Did he want me to wear these for him? I don’t know how many times I stared at myself in sexy underwear in the mirror, only to be reminded that the lingerie was the only thing sexy on my body. I wished I had the confidence to stand in front of a man naked. To feel sexy. But I didn’t.

“I will get you more, but that should tide you over for now.” I jumped up as Parks walked into the room, startling me. He then read my expression wrong. “Do you not like them?”

“They’re gorgeous,” I reassured him. “But I’ve got my own clothes, Parks. This is unnecessary.”

Of course, he wouldn’t hear of it. “I’m looking after you; there is nothing unnecessary about it.” He lowered himself onto the bed next to me, slipped his arms around my waist, and kissed my temple gently. “I’ve run you a bath. I’d like to wash you.”

I pushed myself away from him. “Now that’s where I draw the line. We can’t act like nothing has happened, Parks. I can’t—”

“I’m not asking you to, Evelyn,” he said gruffly, “but I want to help you, and you agreed to let me.”

I walked to the windows, wrapping my arms around myself. “I agreed, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be hard.”

I heard him push up from the bed, then saunter over to me to take my fingertips into his hands. “The things that are worth fighting for are never easy, but that doesn’t mean we give up.”

I blew out a harsh breath and let my hands fall from his. “A week ago you walked out on me, acted like I was worthless. You ignored my fall in the lobby, and now you want to help me? Can’t you see how fucked up this is? Everything in my life is fucked up. I think I’ll take that bath.” I walked around him, snatched a coral baby-doll from the bed, and padded into the bathroom.

I lay back against the egg-shaped bath, mindlessly rolling the bubbles around in my hand, not actually believing I was soaking in Parks’ bath. Only hours ago, I hated him, never wanted to see him again, and was glad he left me. Fast-forward a few hours and I’m accepting help from him and living in his swanky penthouse. Accepting expensive, sexy gifts and lying in bubble baths. On the outside it looked perfect, but my soul remained broken. Parks couldn’t fool me, either. He was hiding something, and if he wanted to unravel me, I sure as hell would be reciprocating.

“Can I join you?”

I jumped again from his intrusion and made it known that time. “Shit. Would you stop doing that?” I pushed all the bubbles up to my neck before turning to face him. Wow. My fright was obliterated when my eyes came into contact with his perfect self. I swallowed down my pride as he stood in all his glorious, half-naked perfection. Solid, strong muscles framed his broad shoulders and right down to his packed, defined abdomen. His powerful mounted legs began walking my way, and I couldn’t stop staring at the mighty package his white briefs didn’t hide so well. He came to a halt at the side of the bath and cocked his head to one side on a grin. How in God’s name was I going to deny him an invitation into my bathwater?

I sucked in a dubious breath. “As long as you keep your hands to yourself.” I was nervous, of course I was, but the bubbles kept my stomach covered, so I would be safe.

“Oh.” His lips fluttered. “I don’t think you mean that. You’re already staring at what I can gift you with, Evelyn.”

I wasn’t consciously doing it and only realised I was when I brought my eyes back up to his face. “You’re so vain,” I accused lightly as he slipped down his boxer-briefs, then stepped out of them slowly as they hit the bathroom floor.

“Wouldn’t you say I have a reason to be?” he taunted. I dragged my eyes away from his magnificent cock, standing strong and inviting against his stomach.

“No.” I hid my smirk as he sank into the bath, making the water rock back and forth. Taking a seat opposite me, he made sure we were staring at each other for a moment. My gaze wandered over a unique and beautiful face that could stand out in a crowd of a million. His vivid emerald-like eyes were extraordinary. And that dark, tousled hair that was too great for a man fell effortlessly into place without him even trying.

His curved, pink lips rose up a touch. He knew I was admiring him. “You’re endlessly beautiful, Evelyn. Come here.”

I was holding my knees to my chest, so I slowly released them and moved towards him. The water and the bubbles were over my body to the top of my breasts, but when I moved forwards, they got exposed, causing Parks to inhale slowly on a sensual growl. “Put your legs around me,” he ordered gruffly. I wrapped my legs around his waist and settled down into his lap. The gasp that left my throat was due to the hardness of his cock sweeping against my sex.

We were face-to-face, intimate, close, and internally frail.

“Perfect,” he whispered. “So, so perfect.”

“I wouldn’t agree,” I mumbled.

“Stop.” He gazed at me intently, reprimanding me for my lack of confidence. “Don’t doubt yourself in front of me. I hate that you do.”

“I find it hard to take compliment. Sue me.” My voice was heavily laced with sarcasm.

“Turn around, Princess. I’ll wash your hair.”

I stilled in his lap, peering through my eyelashes. “Princess? That’s what you called me in your sleep at my flat.”

“I did?” he questioned, gathering the shampoo from the side of the bath and squirting it into his hands. I turned around, making the water slosh between our bodies.

“Yeah, don’t call me that.”

“Well, a princess is how I intend to treat you, so that’s what I’ll call you. Don’t question me, Evelyn.” He massaged the shampoo into my wet hair, kneading and sculpting dextrously into my scalp. It felt orgasmic and so relaxing. My eyes closed on their own, relishing in his touch. Whilst I was relaxing, I caught what music was suddenly playing in the background.

“Ed Sheeran?” I questioned him, fully surprised, as he once insultingly told me he didn’t know who he was. The song “Lego House” was playing, and I sensed his smirk as he brought up the showerhead to rinse off the shampoo.

“I was curious.”

“And?”

“And, he’s brilliant.”

I smirked contentedly and nudged him. “I told you.”

Our bath was peaceful. Content I was, until he told me he was going to wash me.

“No.” My answer was harsh as I spun around to face him, causing the water to overflow the bath. “Please. Would you leave me?”

He clenched his jaw, and his eyes looked angry. “I’ll make us something to eat,” he said coldly as he left the bath. He aggressively pulled a white towel around his lean waist and stormed out of the bathroom, cursing as he closed the door behind him. My sigh was deep and exhausted as I rubbed my hands over my face. Could I hide from him forever?

I dried myself with a white, fluffy towel, quickly did my hair with another and brushed it, leaving it wet. I slipped on the coral baby-doll and made my way over to the mirror. The colour looked good against my light olive skin, and the silk clung to my curves perfectly. It was sexy. Yes. Parks had good taste.