Parker (Rich & Single #2) (12 page)

Jennifer glared at him. “I realize you're used to telling people what to do and watching them jump, but I'm not one of your clients or your employees, Parker. Don't you tell me what I can and cannot do!”

She just had to be difficult. Parker sat down the fork. “It wasn't meant to be a command, Jennifer. It was a suggestion. If you keep on like this, you're going to start getting people's attention, and that's not really how I'd like this night to go, if you don't mind. Nor, am I guessing, would Lydia and Tom.”

One side of Jennifer’s mouth tipped up into an uneven smile. “What makes you think that I care what you want?”

Parker clamped down on his growing irritation, refusing to let it show on his face. He smiled instead, and pushed back his chair. “Be right back.”

The small porch off the side of the restaurant that overlooked the Hudson was empty of people, and Parker took a deep breath in the silence, feeling the brush of the wind against his skin. Behind him, he heard the door open and shut, but he didn’t turn. If someone else had decided to take advantage of the quiet, he wasn’t going to disturb them.

“Do I really make you that angry?”

It was Jennifer. Of course it was. Parker sighed and turned to face her. “You just can’t let me have a moment of peace, can you?”

“I really don’t see why you’re so worked up.” She took a step closer to him, her face turned up toward his, half in silhouette where her body blocked the wash of light from the restaurant’s windows. “It isn’t that big a deal.”

“It's a big deal because you won't leave me alone,” Parker snapped. “Are you so concerned about me potentially winning that you have to constantly poke at me, like it will make some kind of difference? I'm telling you now that it won't.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You think I'm afraid you're going to win?”

“I don't know what else to think when you're showing up at my gym and my favorite ’cafés and taunting me. I can only guess that you're trying to get inside my head.”

“And what if I am? That's what competition is about.”

Parker took a step forward, so close that he could almost feel the heat of her body against his own. “This competition doesn't have to be like that. We do our parts, focus on our clients, and be done with it.”

“What's the fun in that?”

The tight clench of his jaw almost hurt. Parker let out his breath on a sharp sigh and spun away from her. He didn't say anything. What was there to say when she wouldn't listen to a word that came out of his mouth?

A hand stroked down the length of his spine, and almost before he had thought about moving Parker had his fingers wrapped around Jennifer's wrist almost tight enough to bruise, holding her hand away from his body.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hissed.

She didn't answer. Instead, she pressed forward suddenly, and he hadn't been holding anything but her arm. Her body was against his, one of her arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled his head down, his lips meeting hers.

Parker slid his free arm around her waist, dragging her closer until there was hardly space for air between them. Her mouth opened under his, but she didn't give in. They fought for dominance, bodies shifting with the back-and-forth of the kiss, and Parker growled against Jennifer's lips.

They broke apart, both of them panting for air. He still had one hand wrapped around her wrist.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. In the silence, Parker could hear his own heart beating, and the murmur of conversation from inside the restaurant.

“I thought you weren't trying to get into my pants,” he said finally, because he wasn't sure what else to say.

Jennifer yanked her wrist out of his grip and stalked back inside without saying a word.

Parker watched her go, but didn't follow. He stood out on the porch, breathing a little too hard, still feeling the bones of her wrist against his palm, and wondered what the hell had just happened.

The contest continued moving forward. There were no more dinners. Either Jackson realized the error of his ways after the last disaster, or Jennifer refused to participate before the question ever made it to Parker. He didn't mind. The farther he was from Jennifer Leandra and whatever was wrong with her, the better. He definitely didn't think about her in quiet moments, remembering the way her mouth had felt against his. He never woke from dreams of her body under his own, or her hands on him.

Even if he did, it wasn't anyone's business but his own.

He poured his focus into the gym and his contestant.

Lydia was making great progress. Parker felt a rush of warm pride every time he watched her take another step on the journey she'd started. He watched her gain confidence with each muscle, and knew that even having to deal with Jennifer was worth it for the gains Lydia had made.

Ten weeks had passed since the start of the competition.

Only two more to go. And even with his pride, Parker was ready for it to be over. He could keep training Lydia, keep training other people who needed him and his help, but in two more weeks it wouldn't be about whether or not he was better than Jennifer anymore, and that was okay with him. He was tired of the media and the constant portrayal of what was going on behind the scenes. R&S ran another feature of him, and he appreciated the honesty and focus of his job, not him in the article. It was good advertisement for the gym.

Honestly, he didn't care if America thought he was better. He cared what his clients thought, and they seemed more than satisfied with his work. That was enough.

The two weeks, he hoped, would go quietly.

That hope was stifled at a party being thrown by one of the wealthy clients who was always donating equipment to the gym. Those donations were the only reason Parker was attending at all. That, and the fact that Jackson threatened, cajoled, and occasionally just bodily dragged him into it. Sometimes he wondered why he couldn’t have just run a gym frequented by normal people who didn’t have the funds to force him into black tie events.

Parker hadn't ever been particularly fond of these publicity stunts, though Jackson always seemed to be in his element, but seeing Jennifer Leandra through the shifting crowd of people halfway through the night decided it for him. These parties were absolutely the worst.

She wore a black dress that clung to every curve like it had been painted there, and as much as he tried not to look, it was impossible not to see. Every other guy in the room seemed to have the same idea. He could see them watching her as she moved between people, a glass of Champagne in one hand. The way her hair was coiled up into a knot at the back of her head left the long line of her throat bare, and fuck, Parker wanted to get his mouth on it.

Because she seemed to have an unerring sense for what would get under his skin the most, Jennifer wandered over to him about twenty minutes after he’d first spotted her, her eyes raking over his body with an interest that almost felt tangible. Apparently she’d given up on the ‘I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth’ front.

Parked swallowed hard and suddenly wished Lydia hadn’t wondered off shortly after they’d arrived. “Jennifer,” he said politely.

“Parker,” she greeted in return. “How nice to see you again.”

So that was how she was going to play it. Parker could deal with that.

“Everything going well?” The words were a little more stilted than he would have liked, but Parker didn’t let himself care.

“Well enough. Thank you.”

He should have been relieved. She was behaving like a professional. It was what he’d asked her to do over and over again. But the awkward small talk was a thin veneer over tension that felt stretched nearly to the breaking point, crackling in the air between them. One wrong move, and he wasn’t sure which direction it would snap.

“Glad to hear it,” Parker said. “Excuse me. I think Jackson is trying to get my attention.”

Jackson was over in a corner talking to the party’s host, and if he’d needed anything he would have just texted, but if he didn’t get away from Jennifer, Parker was going to say something he shouldn’t. He took a step.

“Running away?”

“Walking away,” Parker said, and kept moving toward the hall that held rooms he knew were empty.

“It’s the same thing,” Jennifer said behind him, following him.

“One is prompted by fear of you,” Parker said, not turning. “And the other is prompted by needing to leave before I do something I’ll regret.”

He heard her laugh. “Please. You wouldn’t do anything. We’ve been over how much of a not-so-secret softy you are already.”

“Do you really want to test it?” Parker demanded.

He wrapped a hand around the knob of the first door he came to and swung it open, but she was there before he could close it. She stepped in behind him, and pulled it shut herself.

“Maybe I do,” she said, and her eyes ran the length of him before they met his gaze.

Parker growled. Reaching out, he closed a hand around her wrist the way he had the night at the restaurant, pulling her in close.

“Tell me you want it,” he said, voice rough at its edges with want. He wanted to take off out of the room and at the same time he desperately wanted to hear her beg him to touch her.

“Fuck. Yes. I want it.”

That was all it took.

His mouth met hers, pressing, claiming. She wrapped both arms around his neck, the full length of her body stretched against his, and her fingers curled in his hair just tight enough to pull almost painfully. Parker set both hands on her hips and dragged her nearer, even when there was no space to get any closer. He could feel the heat of her body against his own, the ripple of muscle under skin and silk as she shifted.

Why had they waited so fucking long?

Jennifer's tongue moved against his, not letting him take control. He closed his fingers a little tighter around the arches of her hips and she moaned into his mouth.

“Wanted you since the moment I saw you,” he said when they broke apart to catch their breath in shuddering pants. “And then you opened your fucking mouth.”

She laughed. “But it was so much fun, watching you grow more and more riled.”

He took a step forward, and she moved back. There was a bed against the wall opposite the door, but Parker didn't really care about that. He backed her up against the wall because it was closer, trapping her between his body and the hard, flat surface.

Jennifer didn't seem to mind. She pulled him down for another kiss, and then another, one of her hands sliding down to move along his spine. He could feel the pressure of her nails even through his suit jacket, but he wanted more.

Parker pulled back just enough to rip his jacket off and toss it to the side, and Jennifer's hands were on the buttons of his shirt before he could reach for them himself. He was pretty sure he heard one fall, clattering against the wooden floor, but it didn't matter. He ran his hands over the curves of her waist and hips, the silk of her dress sleek and soft under his palms, and thought about getting it off her. She tugged insistently at the shirt, and he obligingly pulled that off, too, his undershirt following.

When he was shirtless, Jennifer ran her hands up the length of his abs and to his chest, fingers stroking over his nipples.

“Damn. I knew you'd look fucking good under that shirt. Kept trying to catch you with it off.”

“I'm sure you've seen me shirtless. There are plenty of pictures online.”

“Not the same as seeing you in person,” she retorted, breathless still. “Or touching you.”

She leaned in and ran her tongue over the lines of muscle, and Parker curled his fingers around the hem of her dress and pulled upward. Jennifer lifted her hands to let him take it off over her head, and he tossed it over to join the rest of the clothing. Underneath, she wasn't wearing anything, and for a moment he didn't move. Didn't say anything. Then he groaned low in his throat and ran his hands over warm, bare skin.

“Like that?” she asked, leaning in and up so that she could nip at his jaw, her breath washing warm over the lobe of his ear when she spoke into it. “I did it just for you.”

He growled, and curled his hands around the backs of her thighs to pull her in against him again.

“What made you so sure that you would get me alone?” Parker demanded.

“I'm just that good,” she answered, smug.

The words made the old familiar irritation rise in his chest. He lifted one of his hands and smacked his palm sharply against the back of her thigh. Jennifer gasped, but the way her hips rocked forward against his said that it was a noise of pleasure as much as shock. He did it again, and she moaned.

“I ought to step back right now and walk out,” Parker said against her jaw, mouth dragging down so that he could scatter bites along the curve of her throat. “Leave you here to think about better ways to get someone's attention.”

“You wouldn't,” she hissed. “You want it just as much as I do.”

Her hand dropped down and curled around his cock, already hard against the front of his suit pants, and Parker groaned. She had it right. He wanted it. Just as much as she did. He traced his fingertips along the inside of her thigh and up so that his knuckles brushed against her sex, but didn't touch her. She writhed between him and the wall, and her finger fumbled at the fastenings of his pants.

A moment later she had them open and was shoving them down his hips. Parker slipped his shoes off and kicked them and the pants into the pile on the floor. She yanked his boxers down, and those followed, and then they were both naked.

Parker reached over and locked the door.

Jennifer rocked against him, and his length, trapped between them, slid against her skin.

“Fuck,” Parker breathed.

There was no way he would have walked away from this. He wrapped his hands around the backs of her legs again, and lifted. She made a shocked little sound, and then her thighs wrapped around his waist, clamping tight. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Yes,” she said. “Just like this. Come on, Parker.”

He reached around her body, stroking his fingers over her, finding her wet and ready. She moaned.

Parker stroked her again, teasing his fingertips over her clit before they slid away again, and her hips rocked, her body shuddering against his own.

“Damn it, Parker. Come on. Stop being a tease.”

“Maybe I like teasing you,” he shot back, keeping up the gentle touches that he knew weren't enough, slipping just a fingertip inside her only to pull away again before she could take him any deeper.

She growled, and then her hand was reaching down between them to curl around his cock and stroke once. Twice.

“Fucking fuck me already!”

He laughed. But the strokes that matched his own teasing were enough to make him feel less like lingering. There could always be time for that later. What he wanted now was her, hard and fast. He gave in.

When he pressed inside her, Jennifer moaned, head dropping back against the wall, and her fingers curled against his back.

“Feel as good as you thought it would?” he asked against the curve where neck met shoulder.

“Maybe,” she answered, breath hitching over the word as he pulled out and slid in again, not bothering to take it slow even just to start. “I admit I expected something a little...”

He cut her off before she could finish, pulling her down onto him with his hands on her hips and picking up the pace. The words on her tongue dissolved into moans.

“You wanted it just like this,” he growled, his own voice a little breathless. “Admit it. You wanted me from the first time you showed up in my gym.”

She panted, and writhed against him, and didn't answer.

Parker slapped the curve of her buttock, hard enough to leave his palm stinging. She yelped and bucked against him.

“This whole time that nasty attitude you had was just an attempt to get my attention. You only ever wanted in my pants.” He moved faster, his eyelids fluttering half shut with the heat of her around him. “You wanted my cock.”

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Yes. Okay? Yes. I wanted you.”

He slapped her ass again, just because he could, and because it made her wiggle and moan.

“Thought you'd be better at it, though,” she said, and he growled again, turned them suddenly and moved toward the bed. She clutched at him.

Parker dropped her onto the mattress and she bounced a little. Her hair was falling out of its neat styling, and strands were drifting around her face and clinging to the curves of her cheekbones. He crawled onto the bed after her and caught her by the thighs, dragging her closer.

“Your problem,” he said as he filled her again, “is that you just don't know when you keep your mouth shut. You really should learn better.”

“Going to lecture me, or fuck me, Parker?”

He moved faster, harder, pulling her up to meet each thrust. Her head fell back against the mattress and she stopped talking, eyelids lowered and lips parted. Her chest rose and fell with quick little breaths. Parker leaned down and closed his teeth around a nipple. His hands tipped her hips up to give him a better angle so that he could slide over the place inside her that made her thighs tremble and her body arch up against his. Two of his fingers found her clit, stroking circles that matched the pace of his thrusts.