When she turned back to face him, and started to slowly unbutton the shirt, his dick hardened. Letting it fall off of her shoulders, revealing a white lace bra and panty set that did little to cover her beautiful breasts, she bent at his feet and slid her hands along his thighs, letting her breasts graze his lap, up his bare stomach and chest, to his face.
He reached out to grip her ribcage as he breathed in the soft smell of vanilla coming from her skin, but she shoved his hands away. She turned once more to rest her head in the crook of his good shoulder while she lowered and raised her hips over him to the steady beat of the music, her hands slowly, tantalizingly caressing her stomach, her breasts, and tangling in her hair.
“You’re killing the patient,” he murmured against her neck. All awareness of pain had left him as all of the blood in his body was needed in a different area.
She laughed as she reached behind her, unclasped the bra, and tossed it onto the floor. Pressing her ass into his lap, she continued the rotation of her hips while sliding her hands up and down his thighs.
When her right hand reached behind to touch his cock, straining against the confines of his boxer briefs, he groaned and closed his eyes. “Parker . . .”
She stood and turned, providing a breathtaking view of her new body. He let out a low whistle as she returned instantly to straddle him, stroking her body up and down against him. She reached for the waistband of his underwear and he lifted his hips as she removed them. But when her head lowered to his thigh, leaving a trail of kisses, he stopped her.
It had be to the first time he’d ever stopped a blow job from happening, but he didn’t want her mouth around him . . . he wanted her. He wanted her body pressed close to him, he wanted to feel every inch of her as he came, he wanted to see her and let that mesmerizing look in her eyes take him to a whole new level of seduction. Grabbing her wrists, he pulled her back to him, securing her in place, as he ripped the thong away from her body.
She gasped. “Hey, those were thirty-dollar panties.”
“I’ll buy you new ones,” he whispered, devouring her neck. “In every color . . .” His mouth crushed hers as his hands came across her stomach and cupped her breasts.
She moaned and he could feel the wetness between her thighs.
Reaching for the drawer, she opened a condom and quickly slid it over him before following it with her body. She gripped his shoulders and he winced in pain. Her eyes flew open and she pulled her hands away quickly, stopping the rocking of her hips. “I’m sorry. I forgot,” she said, breathless.
He grabbed her tighter, staring into her eyes, as he said, “I can handle the pain. I can’t handle not having you a second longer.” He flipped her onto her back and lifted her legs behind the knees as he slid in and out of her body. His breathing was labored and the pain in his shoulder was almost unbearable, but he needed her, wanted her more than he cared about the pain.
“Tyson . . . are you okay?” she asked, looking concerned, but her eyes pleaded with him not to stop.
“More than okay,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.
But as he climaxed inside of her, he wasn’t sure that was true. If he was being honest, he wasn’t okay. He hadn’t been okay since the first kick-in-the-gut reaction he’d experienced the day she’d walked into his gym, into his life . . . since the first earth-shattering moment of awareness when he knew he had to have her and then the unfamiliar feeling of never having enough. He was starting to fall for her and that wasn’t okay at all. All he could do was hope when she eventually left, when she eventually didn’t need him anymore and went on with her life, that he could put the pieces back together again.
* * *
Sometime later in the night, she heard him climb out of bed and get dressed. She listened to the sound of his watch snapping into place, the zipper of his jeans, then the sound of his shoes on the hardwood floor. She kept her eyes closed. She wouldn’t stop him from leaving. That’s who he was. He’d never once lied to her or given her any false ideas or hope about where this was going or what was happening between them.
He was the love-them-and-leave-them kind of guy she shouldn’t involve herself with, the one she always avoided until now, the one who could no doubt break her. Yet, she wasn’t walking away . . . and she wasn’t pushing him away.
Nor was she placing any demands on him. She wasn’t going to try to change him, because she was starting to fall for exactly the man he was . . . even if that man was the kind who refused to be there in the morning.
She could live with that, couldn’t she? A man who loved her more completely in the dark than any other man she’d ever known, a man who made her feel a connection so strong, it felt as though the night would go on forever, but also a man who didn’t stay beyond the first few beams of morning light. A man who could be everything she’d always wanted, never known she’d needed, if he would open himself up to the possibility of a future with someone. If he could learn to trust that being with her didn’t mean giving up everything else he cared about, the goals he worked so hard to achieve for himself and his family, that being with someone only made everything else that much better. But a man who might never be comfortable letting her in and therefore someone she could never truly know, the way her heart wanted to know him.
She wasn’t sure she had a choice. Because living without him—without his touch, without his kiss, without that secret look they shared when others were around—was just not an option anymore. She liked him . . . a lot—she might even love him—but more than that, she liked herself when she was with him. She was proud of the person she was becoming through the training and the confidence he was giving her. He made her feel more loved, cherished, and admired than anyone ever had without saying the words.
Words had always meant so much, yet in the end they’d been meaningless, empty. In the end, they’d turned harsh and critical and hurtful just as quickly as they’d warmed her heart. She was learning that the words she perfected to deliver emotional performances onscreen were often fake, hollow, and manipulative. A real connection went so far beyond words.
Tyson had said he wasn’t the right man for her and he probably believed that. Hell, maybe she should believe it too. It would no doubt save her an inevitable heartache in the end
His cool lips pressed gently against her warm shoulder and she didn’t move, didn’t turn, didn’t open her eyes until the sound of the door shutting softly told her he was gone.
She could let him leave, but she couldn’t watch him go.
Chapter 10
The number lighting up Parker’s cell phone was one she hadn’t seen in so long, she almost didn’t recognize it anymore. Since her publicist’s press statement about her latest movie venture, countless industry friends had reached out, offering their half-sincere well wishes and she’d suspected it was just a matter of time before she received this call.
She contemplated letting the call go to voice mail. After all, she really didn’t have anything to say to Brantley and she knew nothing he could possibly say would make her feel good about the movie. He was probably calling to scoff at the fact she’d accepted a role in an indie film. But, it didn’t matter. She was excited about this movie and she was happier in recent weeks than she had been in years. How often did you get a call from an ex-boyfriend when life was going well? A second later she answered.
“Hello?” she said, as though she didn’t already know the caller.
“Parker, how are you?” Brantley asked.
Her heart did the usual flutter it always had at the sound of his voice, but she forced her tone to remain steady and nonchalant. “Hi, Brantley, what a surprise to hear from you.” Going into the kitchen, she opened the freezer and removed her frozen fruit, dumping it into her blender.