Crossing The Line (A Taboo Love series Book 3) (13 page)

Chance

I lie on the bed, panting and sated. That had to have been the best sex of my life. Nothing has ever felt so good. Yeah, it was uncomfortable at first and I have no doubt that I’ll be sore for a couple of days, but it was so worth it. The pleasure was so intense, so sharp. When I came, it was so hard that it shot all the way up to my neck. I’ve never had that happen before.

I roll my head to look over at Parker, his arm is thrown over his eyes and he's panting. I reach over and run my hand across his chest. He lifts his arm from his eyes and looks at me. Tons of emotions are swirling around in their blue depths. He then rolls towards me and captures my lips for a slow, languid kiss. My heart flutters wildly. God, I'm feeling way too many things for this guy that he's probably never going to feel for me.
Nice, asshole, great way to set yourself up for heartache.

Parker pulls away and rolls onto his back with a sated and somewhat defeated sigh, as if he's done fighting what is apparently going on between us. "That was...incredible," he murmurs softly, staring up at the ceiling.

"Agreed," I reply. "I need another shower, want to join me?"

He glances at me, a small smile curling his sexy mouth. "Sure."

Somehow, my exhausted cock twitches at the thought of getting to see Parker naked
and
wet. We make our way into the bathroom. The one feature I love about this bathroom is the large walk-in glass shower that has a large bench at one end.

I turn the shower on and adjust the water. Once it's warm, we both step in. I step under the spray first and rinse the jizz off my chest and neck. I'm shocked when Parker sidles up behind me, pressing the length of his body against my back. His hands slide along my hips and around to my stomach. His mouth finds the back of my neck. I sigh and lean back into him. I really love all of the affection he's giving me. I never realized how much I crave and need affection until I started receiving it. I reach up and grasp the back of his neck. He sighs and wraps his arms around me tighter as he leaves a trail of kisses down my neck to my shoulder.

I turn in his arms and am met with a kiss. For someone who had a hard time kissing another man, he really seems to like doing it. Both of us are already starting to get hard again. I reach out for the shelf next to me and fumble around for my bar of soap, because honestly, I don't want to stop kissing this delicious man in my arms. I finally find it. I lather up my hands behind Parker's back, then while keeping the bar in my right hand, I use both of them to start washing his body. Parker moans his agreement into my mouth.

I wrap a soapy hand around his rock hard erection and pump lazily. He tears his mouth away from mine and groans as he drops his head back on his shoulders. I put the soap back on the shelf, because there is something else I want to do to him - if he'll let me.

"Turn around and put your hands on the bench," I rasp.

Parker lifts his head up and eyes me warily. "Why?"

I smirk. "I'm not gonna fuck you, but there is something else I want to do to you," I tell him.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Trust me, you're gonna like it," I say and motion for him to turn around and bend over.

He hesitates but eventually turns and puts his hands on the bench. His asshole and heavy sack are in full view and Jesus, what a beautiful sight it is. I step up behind him and run my hands over the muscled mounds of his ass before running them up his back. My cock fits snuggly between his cheeks as I bend over him. I can feel him tense under me.

"I thought you said..." he starts hoarsely but I cut him off.

"Just trust me," I whisper before nipping at the back of his shoulder.

I slowly kiss and lick my way down his back until I'm kneeling behind him. I lean in and suck one of his balls into my mouth. He sucks in a sharp breath, probably figuring out what I plan on doing.

"Chance, I don't think..." he starts again.

I shut him up by running my tongue up his perineum to his puckered hole. He makes a strangled noise and clenches. I use my hands to massage his ass cheeks while I slowly run my tongue around his hole to let him get used to the feeling. Slowly, he starts to relax. I use one hand to reach between his legs to fist his semi-hard cock, lazily jerking him off while I torture him with my tongue.

Parker's moaning and gasping become louder and more frequent as I continue to fuck him with my tongue...literally. He slaps my hand away from his dick and takes over. He's practically shoving his ass back against my face and I'm loving it. I use my hands to open him up for better access.

"Fuck! Don't stop!" Parker pants.

"Don't plan on it," I mutter then dive back in with renewed fervor.

I shove my tongue past the tight ring of muscle, as far as I can reach, and that does the trick. Parker shouts and curses as his tight hole clenches around my tongue and refuses to let go. I moan and grasp his hips, keeping him from pulling away before he's done coming. His arm gives out and he drops down to his forearm. He rests his head on his arm and pants furiously. I give his hole a couple of flicks that have him groaning and moving away. I chuckle and sit back on my haunches to take a look at what I've created. His dick is now hanging limply between his legs and his knees are shaking...just gorgeous. I give his ass a smack and get to my feet. He grunts and shakily straightens up.

"So? Did you like it?" I ask as he turns around to face me.

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "That's a dumb question."

I laugh. Grabbing his hand, I pull him into the now lukewarm spray. We quickly get washed up then get out. We dry off then crawl back into my bed. Lying side by side, facing each other, with the sheet pulled up to our waists, I have a feeling of deep contentment. This is the first time in my life that being with someone - man or woman - feels right.

"Hey, Parker?" I murmur into the darkness.

"Hmm?"

"I have a couple tickets to the Yankees game next weekend, will you go with me?" I ask.

"Like as buddies going to a game or like on a date?" he asks in return.

"A date," I reply without hesitation because that was my intention when I first asked.

After a moment of silence that made me nervous he was going to say no, he says, "Okay."

I smile. "Good."

Parker's hand finds mine and he laces our fingers together. I bring his hand up to my mouth and kiss the back of it. Whatever is going on between us seems to be moving quickly and is serious, at least to me. I never thought I’d be in
this
place with
this
man. I like the way it's going, though, and I just hope it continues. We end up falling asleep still holding hands.

Chapter Eleven

Chance

I’m on my way to pick up Parker for our first date. I can’t believe he actually agreed to go out with me. In public. It must have been the post euphoric orgasm talking.  I’m sure it helps that we are going to be surrounded by thousands of people and I won’t be able to touch him.  Damn, that sucks.  I should have thought that through better.  At least we’ll be alone in the limo for a little while since we have to drive to the stadium in this traffic. 

We pull up to Parker’s condo and I call to let him know that we are waiting outside.  The security is so tight that it’s not worth trying to get through when he can just come down. I notice him coming out of the lobby five minutes later, but I don’t get out of the limo to greet him.  I know the chauffeur is watching, and even though he is discreet and respectful, the production company ultimately employs him, and I don’t want to give him any reason to report back to anyone. No more making waves.

As he walks out the doors, my breath is taken. Parker looks absolutely stunning.  His blonde hair looks shiny and golden, and as the sun reflects off his sexy as fuck aviators, I am blinded.  But that’s not what has me hard in my jeans. It’s the shit-eating grin he flashes me, his pearly whites begging to be licked.  What? Shit, I want to lick his teeth I am so hot for him.  His skintight navy blue Henley and khaki carpenter pants are going to be the death of me.  He looks so calm and confident and downright fuckable.  Damn, I think I am really starting to fall for this cat.

“Hey, P Diddy,” I greet him as he slides in next to me, bumping knees.  The sight, now the smell, and then the feel of him.  If I was hard when I spotted him, I am solid now.  I give him my sexiest smile and wink and I see him blush a little.  I think I can explode at that visual.

Parker looks up at the chauffeur and gives him a head nod.  Shaking his head, he chuckles at my greeting.  “Dude, if I can tap J Lo, then you can call me P Diddy, Puff Daddy, Mark Anthony, Casper whatshisname. Hell, you can call me Ben Affleck.”

I suddenly have green tunnel vision and know that I need to raise the partition.  I know that he is worried about his image. Our image. This conversation is not meant for other ears and I am not prepared to hold my tongue.

“If you can what?” I ask, the jealousy dripping off my tongue.

“If I can screw her,” he repeats slowly, a devilish smile gracing his gorgeous face.

“Are you fucking with me?” I shout petulantly.

“Ah, baby, are you jealous of J Lo?” He rubs it in.

“You would hit that?”  I ask incredulously.

“Come on, you know she’s on my fuck it list,” he tells me. 

I think I am going to blow a gasket. “Your what?”

“My fuck it list,” he says as a matter of fact, like everyone in the world has one.

“What the hell is a fuck it list?”  Suddenly sorry for asking.

“It’s like a bucket list. But instead of all of the things that I want to do before I die, it’s all of the people I wanna…”  but I cut him off before he finishes that sentence, silencing him with a brutal kiss.

We both pull away out of breath. What started as a kiss to shut him up, ends up turning my jealousy into lust.  My cock is painfully straining against my jeans. I adjust myself, not so discreetly. When I look back at Parker, his heavy-lidded eyes are focused on my crotch.  My dick jumps at the prospect of keeping his attention.

“Who else is on your fuck it list?” I ask, pushing my luck.

Parker doesn’t answer; instead, he slides down my body, settling on his knees, between my thighs.  He looks back up at me, his irises a stormy gray, his lips swollen from my kisses, and his jaw clenched. He grips onto my thighs tightly and I think my heart is going to jump out of my chest it is beating so hard.  There is no way in hell that he is going to do what I am so desperate for.

His hands drift slowly to the top button of my jeans and I stop breathing.  My eyes are locked on his deft fingers and everything else fades away.  Seconds feel like minutes, which feel like hours.  I hear nothing but the sound of my own heartbeat.  And another loud beep.  What the hell is that? Again that beep infiltrates my fantasy followed by an unwelcomed voice.

“Mr. Steele, Mr. Hamiton, we are here.”

Parker jumps back into his seat and slides as far away from me as possible. The mood is completely broken, and I am painfully aroused. Well, shit.

Parker

Yankee Stadium.  Yankee fucking Stadium.  Who knew? Not me.  Yes, I was born and raised in New York, but I’ve never been to a baseball game.  My parents aren’t exactly sports enthusiasts and my nanny never took me. I couldn’t count on my dickhead brother to teach me about this stuff, so I never bothered.  Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever dated a woman who was into sports.  I know Nick and Calvin go to hockey games often; they invited me once but the look on my face probably told them everything they needed to know.  I am lucky to be invited to their poker nights as it is.  But now I’m dating a dude.  Holy shit, I’m dating a dude! I want to say I dodged a bullet back there, but really, I think I am ready to try it.  I’m not ready to take it up the ass. I don’t know if I ever will be, but I am willing to try giving him head. I feel like I owe the poor guy already, he does so much for me – to me. Nevertheless, ultimately, I’m a top, and I think that if Chance really wants to be with me, he is going to have to be okay with that.

The limo pulls into the underground parking lot where the athletes are usually dropped off. Being so high profile, and not having bodyguards with us, we thought it was the best idea. Even though we are sitting in what Chance calls “suite box seats,” we are still pretty vulnerable to the public, so he made some calls to ensure that there would be added security for us. We are also getting a private VIP tour of the locker room, the field, and Monument Park – a museum honoring distinguished Yankees - before the game. Oh, and did I forget to tell you that we are supposed to be throwing out the first pitch.  Scratch that…Chance is going to throw out the first pitch.  I’m going to be catching…the ball…the baseball.
Dammit!

As we make our way through Monument Park, we see pictures and memorabilia of all of the lates and greats.  I’m walking with my chin up, chest out - all confident and macho. I have no fucking clue who they are.  I did a little research before Chance picked me up so I wouldn’t look like a total dumb ass. Actually, I had Nick teach me some stuff, but I’m still not confident. He thinks that Chance and I are going to this game as a movie promotion. The whole throwing out the first pitch thing backing up my story.  If he only knew.

“Holy shit! Look over here!” Chance yells, and I go see what all of the excitement is over. “Babe Ruth,” he says in awe.

“He started as a pitcher but became the greatest home run hitter of all time,” I repeat Nick’s words exactly.

Chance looks impressed and I smile inwardly.  It makes me happy knowing that I make him proud.

“And here… look. Joe DiMaggio!  He holds the longest consecutive hitting streak in MLB history,” he tells me.

“Fuck that, he was banging Marilyn Monroe,” I add smugly.

Chance laughs and my heart warms. Nick’s tips are working like a charm.

He then spits out an obscure name, trying to throw me a curve ball. Is he testing me? But I answer with facts that I remember reading on Wikipedia.  Nick didn’t even mention that guy.  When I finish, I see Chance raise an eyebrow in question.  I know he is wondering how I knew who that guy was. Fortunately, I have a photographic memory; it comes in handy when trying to memorize a script.

As he drools over the rest of the memorabilia, I take the opportunity to watch him.  I mean really look at him.  He is so gorgeous in his low-slung jeans and Yankee Jersey. His hair is cut short again – military crew - but is sporting a five o’clock shadow. He has his Ray-Bans on covering his eyes and they make him look almost dangerous. A chill runs up my spine. We are all alone out here and I use that to my advantage.  I stalk over to him with one thing on my mind.  I need to taste his lips. As I get closer, Chance turns to talk to me and he sees. I mean really sees what I need.  We both eat up the few feet left between us, our lips crashing into each other.  It isn’t sweet and tender. It isn’t loving and gentle. It’s passionate and rough. It’s teeth mashing and dirty. It’s perfect.  We pull apart, both breathless, and just in time.  The tour guide walks in and lets us know that it’s time for our next stop.

We leave Monument Park and I am relieved that I don’t have to pretend like I know who these people are anymore. The tour guide then tells us that we are going to have the opportunity to meet some staff members – an owner, some coaches, and the general manager.  I really have no interest in meeting these people but I can see the excitement on Chance’s face. I once again have this nagging need to impress him.  We fall back a few steps from the guide and I lean in to whisper in his ear.

“Is this where we meet George Costanza?”

“Huh? You mean George Steinbrenner?” he asks and I don’t understand why he’s confused.  He knows everything and anything there is to know about the damn Yankees.

“No, George Costanza. Doesn’t he work for the owner, George Steinbrenner?”

Chance smiles like the Cheshire cat but doesn’t correct me. And that’s how I lost all of my street cred. 

Chance

Parker doesn’t know shit about the Yankees, but I love that he tried to memorize a bunch of useless facts for me. It makes me fall even more for him, which is really kind of freaking me out.  I’ve never let anyone in, never gotten this close to anyone. Why him? Why now? I have no answers. I just know that I couldn’t stop, even if I wanted to. Maybe it’s time for me to let him in a little.

The game is already in the seventh inning and I think that Parker is having a good time.  We stand up for our stretch, still laughing about the opening throw.  I was so turned on at the pitcher’s mound seeing him squatting covering home plate.  I couldn’t concentrate.  I was so wrapped up in the fact that 50,000 fans were seeing my hard on that I completely flubbed my pitch. I should probably be embarrassed, but the lustful look on Parker’s face, knowing that he knew exactly what happened, made it worthwhile.  This guy is going to be the death of me.

Parker points over to the bar in the back of our suite to let me know he is heading over there.

“I’m gonna go grab a beer. Want one?” he asks coolly, completely forgetting that I don’t drink.

“Nah, man, thanks. Just a fresh bottle of water. Please,” I respond casually.

Parker nods and smiles, probably just remembering that I don’t drink.  “You ever gonna tell me why you only drink water?”

I take a deep breath.  I guess now is as good a time as any. I was just telling myself that it was time to start opening up to him, anyway.

I look away, not wanting to see his reaction. It’s not something that I’m excited to share.  “My dad was an alcoholic.  I promised myself that I would never be like him.  The closest I’ve ever been to tasting it is when I’m sucking it off your tongue.”

But his reaction is not something I ever expected. Parker raises his sunglasses to his head, and then takes a few steps back toward me, invading my personal space.  We are surrounded by people and I get nervous all of a sudden.  I scan my eyes around, reminding him that we are not alone. But at this moment, I don’t think he cares.  He pulls off my sunglasses, grips my chin, and forces me to look him in the eyes.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Babe.”