Denying Mr. Parks (The Parks #1) (27 page)

“Why do you feel you have to be strong all the time?” he asked softly.

I sucked in a deep breath. “Because I don’t want to be vulnerable. I can’t.”

After a pause, he asked, “Will you let me lie with you so I can hold you?”

Parks’s tone halted my heart. It had a slight vulnerability I didn’t know he was capable of. I wasn’t sure if he was fighting an inner fear when he asked if he could hold me, because it seemed he’d never shown affection to a woman, either. Or maybe it was because he wasn’t sure how I would react to his question. My gut instinct told me the first option was the truth. But I couldn’t do it.

“No,” I said, my tone calm but begging. “Please don’t stay.”

“I won’t stay with you,” he was quick to promise. “Just let me hold you until you fall asleep. Then I’ll leave.”

That time, I knew he felt my pain, even though he didn’t know what my pain actually was. I nodded and agreed, but not without trepidation. He wanted to hold me. He had never held me, and I’d never been held. To say I wasn’t nervous would be a damn lie, but being half-intoxicated with vodka and wine eased my nerves.

“Thank you.” He slipped off his shirt and placed it on the sofa. There, he took off his shoes and socks, then walked around the bed to climb in.

My back was to his front as we lay on our sides, but when he placed his top arm around to my stomach to pull me close into his chest, I immediately tensed. He must have noticed my rigidness, but he didn’t back off. If anything, he held me tighter. Like he secretly needed that closeness.

I was drunk, angry, and hated myself, and I was being held by a man who for some reason wanted me. Wanted to hold me. The only person that had ever held me was my nan, yet there I was, allowing a man I hardly knew to hold me intimately, and what was more, I wanted him to.

“Why are you so nervous about me holding you, Evelyn?”

I closed my eyes. “I’m not used to being held by anyone. I’m not used to the affection. If I get used to it, I’m scared about getting attached.”

He nuzzled into the back of my hair, inhaling my scent. “You have never been held by a man before?” I sensed the pain entwined within his words, but I also sensed hope.

“Never,” I whispered.

“Then I am the first man to have the pleasure, and I will be the last. Holding you comes natural to me, Evelyn, and yes, it’s new to me too, but this moment with you is one of many I will treasure and savour. Allow yourself that attachment. I know I will.” He kissed me on my temple and held me tight.

As I absorbed all he’d said to me in that special moment, cowardly tears slipped from my eyes and fell onto the pillow. I didn’t make noise because there was no way I was going to let Parks see or hear me cry. No one ever had because it was rare, so I didn’t understand why in the same moment I allowed Parks to hold me, I cried silently for the first time in nine years. I cried from the empty ache I felt from denying myself anything good in my life. I cried from the detestation I felt towards myself. I cried because I never deserved happiness. Ever.

Chapter Nineteen

Hazily, I woke up in Parks’s bed the next morning, sat up, and took in my surroundings. Parks wasn’t next to me, and I had a fuzzy feeling inside because he left just like he promised.

Shit. What was I thinking? I searched around the bedroom for my phone and found eleven missed calls from Steph. I texted her back briefly, knowing she would have already put me on the missing persons list, and told her I was over at Mindy’s house—the girl that worked at Starbucks. My phone rang immediately.

“Why the fuck can’t you just tell me what you’re doing, Evey?” Steph howled down the line when I answered. “Is it too much for you to call me back and tell me you won’t be coming home? For fuck’s sake.”

She was acting like my mother, and I knew she meant well, but Jesus. “I didn’t think.”

“Damn well you didn’t think. You’re pushing it, Evey.” She hung up in anger, but I dismissed it, then I read a text from Alex asking if he could see me that night. He was a trier, I’d give him that. The only text I took real notice of was the one from Parks, telling me breakfast was waiting for me in the kitchen. Breakfast? When did he have time to make breakfast if he hadn’t stayed?

After climbing out of bed, I wandered into the kitchen and stopped in my tracks when I saw the continental breakfast beautifully displayed on the island worktop. The amount of food could have served at least ten people. My stomach rumbled as I looked over the croissants, waffles dripping in honey, blueberry muffins, Danish pastries, yogurts, muesli, and a basket of all kinds of fruit. He’d also put out a cheese board and crackers, and a hot plate with bacon and eggs. I was never normally hungry in the mornings, but looking at what had been prepared, I wanted to eat it all.

I took a plate and an empty glass from the counter, loaded my plate, and poured myself some orange juice. I also spotted a half-empty glass on the counter that had watermelon juice inside. After gently tracing the rim of the glass, knowing his lips had been there, I took it to my lips and drank. As I already knew, it tasted rancid. I hadn’t a clue how Parks liked it so much. Neither did I have a clue why I wanted to sip it.

Halfway through my breakfast, I glanced at my watch and saw it was seven thirty. I had time, but then small panic set in. Clothes! What the hell was I going to wear to work?

I scrambled from the chair and ran into the bedroom to collect my smartphone. I couldn’t call Steph because I would have to give myself away. Shit. I had to call Parks.

“Morning, Evelyn,” he answered on my second ring, and I knew he was already at work from the laptop keys tapping in the background.

“Parks, I have nothing to wear to work.”

There was a smile in his voice. “Relax. To the right of the bedroom is a walk-in closet. Take a look inside.”

“I can’t wear men’s clothes.” Then I was really panicking. Why did I get myself into this position in the first place?

He laughed at my horror, putting my mind at ease. “I should hope not. Just take a look. I will see you at work. Come up to my office first when you arrive.” And he hung up.

I took my phone away from my ear and stared at the screen for a second, thinking, what the hell is he talking about? I decided to check.

I entered his walk-in wardrobe and held my breath at what I saw. It was magnificent. It wasn’t a wardrobe, it was a whole fucking room. I walked farther inside, glancing at all the suits he had hanging up along racks. There were also drawers upon drawers of socks and underwear, stacks of folded-up T-shirts, and dozens of shoes.

I ran my fingers along his suits, thinking of him wearing them. He looked so damn good in each one. Then I came across the hanger he unmistakably wanted me to see. It held a crepe, khaki-coloured pencil dress that had a zip down the back from the nape to the bottom. It was completely gorgeous.

As I took it from the hanger, a brief glimpse of the tag caused my heart to fail. No, I thought. He couldn’t have. I took another deep breath, closed one eye, and then looked at the tag properly. Yes, it said Victoria Beckham. I closed my other eye as I sagged down into the armchair in the room. He remembered what I said about her dresses and bought one for me. I really didn’t know how I felt about it. Flattered? Should I be flattered? I was filled with gratitude, of course I was, but questions kept running through my mind: When did he actually purchase this? How did he know my size? He even placed a bag in the wardrobe that held black lace Agent Provocateur underwear. Black, size five, Walter Steiger pumps were in a shoebox next to it. I had to give it to him, he had incredible taste, but I almost didn’t want to wear any of it because I hated taking things from people. But I had no other option. I needed to get to work, and I couldn’t go in Parks’s white Prada shirt, so the VB dress it was.

I took a ride from Cleaver that day and was in a really good, positive mood. I couldn’t quite work out what had put the spring in my step. I wondered if it was because I had slept at Parks’s apartment and been held by him the previous night when I never thought I wanted to. Or was it because of the breakfast and the clothes he’d given me, or simply just because I was beginning to like what he was about?

Did Parks soothe me? If he did, I didn’t want to think about it, so I stayed on the path of denial and obliviousness.

As I got into work early, I rode the lift straight up to Parks’s office at the executive suite, and the lift doors pinged open onto the long white-and-grey lobby. There was a long, shiny, white desk straight ahead, and behind the desk were large, gold, block letters which said
W. Parks
. Also behind the white desk was Joanna. I tried to ignore her and breezed straight past to the frosted-glass doors that led to Parks’s office, but she flew from her chair aggressively.

“You can’t just walk in.” She blinked in shock, shaking her head at me.

“He asked me to come and see him. Not that it has anything to do with you.” I didn’t want to feel like I had to explain myself.

She surprised me by grabbing hold of the top of my arm, stopping me mid-step.

“You do not have an appointment. I won’t let you in.”

I looked at where she had me, then threw my arm out of her grip. “What the fuck is your problem?” She hadn’t bothered me before, but now she was pissing me off. Hugely.

She crossed her arms, pushing up her double FFs, and sneered at me. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to? I’ve seen it all before. Women like you, after his money, his fortune. But you know, Mr. Parks is a clever man. He’s probably already figured you out. You think you mean anything to him? No woman ever does. You’re just a quick, easy fuck like the rest of them. I’m the one he depends on. I’m the woman he trusts with his life.”

I was utterly gobsmacked. Jittery Joanna had balls, I’d give her that, but I didn’t like what she was saying and would damn well tell her.

I moved towards her so she took a cautious step back. “You think I’m after his money? You couldn’t be more wrong. If I were you, I’d shut that mouth of yours.”

She rounded her shoulders and stepped up to me. We were face-to-face, and her sudden brashness stunned me. “Don’t fuck with him, Evey. Stay away from him.”

I could have laughed. She was almost comical, but her behaviour was so out of the blue I was left with whiplash. “Don’t threaten me, Joanna.”

“Or what?” she goaded, smacking my pointed finger out of her face. I was about to show her exactly what would happen, but the glass doors opened, and when Parks registered Joanna squaring up to me he almost stepped back in shock.

“Joanna?” he exclaimed, his voice raised and threatening. She jumped back from me, her eyes widening at the sound of her boss’s voice. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I…”

I should have told him what she said, but I could look after myself and would finish this by myself.

“It was just a misunderstanding,” I told him, but I shot Joanna a look that warned her it wasn’t over.

“Get back to work,” he demanded, and she hopped right to it. “Evelyn.” He held the door open for me whilst scowling at her. I walked into his office, shaking away what she said to me. It didn’t faze me. She was obviously in love with Parks and saw me as a threat. How could I take that seriously?

“What did she say to you?”

I turned around at the sound of his insistent voice and drank in his dashing perfection. He had on a tight-fitted black suit with a white shirt underneath, but he wasn’t wearing a tie, and the first two buttons on his shirt were open. I couldn’t help but stare at the exposed skin on show, or the few trimmed, dark hairs that appeared.

“She wanted to know why I came up here, that’s all. Just doing her job.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, searching for lies, then relaxed when I stayed firm. He then seemed to realise what I was wearing. He dragged his eyes from the tip of my shoes all the way up to my face. His pupils dilated with desire, showing his sexual appetite. “You look sensational, Evelyn. I see you like my taste?”

I arched my brow as his lips twitched. “I do. But when did you get this dress? You didn’t know I was going to stay the night.”

“No, I didn’t. But when you mentioned something about a Victoria Beckham dress, I ordered you one. I planned on giving it to you as a gift, but seeing as you stayed the night in my apartment, it served its purpose efficiently.”

Wow. I couldn’t pretend that didn’t affect me, because it was incredibly thoughtful.

“Thank you.” I smiled, and it was one of my more genuine smiles. “And thank you for leaving like you said you would.”

He laughed in disbelief. “Evelyn, you are the only woman that has ever thanked me for
not
staying with her. But I am a man of my word. Though it was hard to leave you. I spent the rest of the night in the gym, venting out frustration.”

“Frustration?” I frowned, confused.

“Yes, frustrated I spent almost two hours lying next to you with a hard cock and nothing to do about it.”

I remained impassive for a second whilst I thought of his erection, then raced to the image of him working out, his muscles flexing and his sweaty clothes. I couldn’t help the pleasurable smile that slowly spread across my face. I was pleased it frustrated him, of course I was, but I also thought a lot more of him in that moment because he actually laid next to the drunken mess I was and tried absolutely nothing sexual.

After
saying
my gratitude towards him, I felt like
expressing
it. So I began humouring him. I walked around his desk and lowered my backside into his leather seat—a seat that seemed to overlook most of London with the windows behind me. His lips crept up at the corners when I pulled my feet up and crossed them on his desk.

“Now, Mr. Parks, what did you want to see me about this morning? Don’t you know I’m a very busy woman?”

Slowly, he moved towards me, and I would be lying if I said my stomach didn’t clench and my clitoris didn’t pulse as he neared. “Mr. Parks?” He smirked. “Tell me, was sleeping in my bed last night the reason for your delightful mood?” His eyes darkened when he said “my bed,” like the idea of me sleeping there was a desirable one, indeed.

“Hmm.” I pretended to think about his question whilst picking up a pen and taking it to my lips as I spoke. “Maybe it was something in your eggs? Or the watermelon juice?”

I didn’t know where my playful, provocative side came from. Was he right? Did sleeping in his bed do that to me?

That was absurd.

“You had some of my watermelon?” He was slightly shocked, almost amused.

I nodded and bit down onto the pen lid. “I think I should give you a token of appreciation.”

As he reached me, his gaze drifted over my heels, then up my legs that were resting on his desk. “What do you have in mind?” His question was seductive, and his pupils become salaciously heated.

I unhooked my legs and placed them back onto the floor. Swivelling the chair around to face him, I then pulled him into me by his belt hoops so his crotch was in line with my face. Peering up at him through my eyelashes, I took hold of the tip of his trouser zip and pulled it down ever so slowly over the magnificent, hardened bump. The faint gasp that left his lips indicated my actions surprised him.

“Evelyn, don’t tease me,” he said. “If you have no intention of sucking my cock, get to your feet. Now.”

I wasn’t surprised he thought I was going to tease him and not carry out the act, because I was surprised myself—surprised I was actually going to do it. “I have every intention of sucking your cock, Parks.” I tugged on his trousers, causing them to fall just past his thighs.

He tipped my chin up to face him. “In that case, remember to swallow the pleasure you suck from me.”

I licked my bottom lip, then bit it seductively. “Well, it would be rude to spit.” His grin showed he approved of my answer, and he nodded for me to continue. I went back to the task at hand, moved my fingers around to his firm backside, and hooked them into the waistband of his boxers. After pulling them down, I slipped my fingers around the front to tug them down farther, just enough to expose his almighty penis. I inhaled in satisfaction when his firm erection came face-to-face with me. A dick to me was usually nothing special, but his was something else.