Page 10 of Parker

Chapter six

Glasgow, Scotland

Nicky

We cruise through the darkening streets to the outskirts of the city.

The high moon casts a soft glow over the black roads.

The cramped conditions of inner-city living disappear, and the houses increase in size but decrease in number.

Each house sits in a large plot surrounded by landscaped gardens and boasts an opulent driveway leading to the gigantic structures.

Joel slows to a stop outside a property hidden by high stone walls.

Solid black gates sit between lion-topped stone pillars.

He hits the voice command button on his car dashboard.

“Open the gate,” he orders, and the gates part immediately.

I gasp, and a smile plays on his lips. He can tell I’m impressed.

Tall conifers line the gravel driveway that leads to a modern mansion hidden from view.

Lights dot the outside space, ensuring visibility everywhere.

The lower floor is glass, and you can see straight into the house and through to the garden at the back.

Above it, a square wooden structure with chrome and more glass creates the upper floor.

It’s the most unique home I’ve ever seen.

I’m not sure it even looks like a house.

“Wow.” My mouth drops open. “Your home is stunning. I’ve seen nothing like it.”

He smiles. “Thank you. I designed it myself with the help of a friend who’s an architect.

I wanted to create something unique. I don’t do typical, Nicky.

I want exceptional.” His voice is quiet.

His eyes hold mine, and I’m unsure if he’s talking about the house.

“Come, let me give you the tour.” He holds out his hand, and I take it without hesitation.

Inside is no different. The living space is open plan and covers the entire ground floor.

Vast leather sofas create various sitting areas around the room.

An entertainment complex fills the only solid wall, the screen as big as a cinema.

No need to go out to the movies if you live here.

The kitchen is glossy, a brilliant red, and every imaginable appliance is on display.

A dining table that seats ten people fills the middle of the space with an enormous vase of flowers in reds and whites at its center.

I feel Joel’s gaze on me, observing my reaction.

Panicking my jaw has hit the floor, I rub my chin with my hand and push my teeth together. Act cool, I tell myself.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” he asks. I nod, unable to speak coherently. “What do you take?”

“Just milk.”

After boiling the kettle and preparing the cups, he hands me a large red one filled to the brim with milky tea.

It feels soothing in my hands. As I lean on the kitchen worktop with my elbows, my mind flips through topics of conversation.

I have nothing in common with this man except alcoholism—we’re from two very different worlds.

Our eyes lock, and my body buzzes in response. Never has my reaction to a man been so obvious. So carnal.

He gives me a sexy smile. He knows the sensation coursing through my body, and he likes it.

His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as his greedy eyes scan me.

I’m suddenly aware of my meager clothing.

There is nothing sexy about my outfit: a simple white t-shirt and cut-off jeans.

I’ve pulled my dark hair high into a ponytail, and my face is makeup-free.

I look completely normal, in stark contrast to him.

We continue to drink our tea in silence. Nothing needs to be said. Our bodies are conversing now. We both know how tonight is going to end, with his cock buried deep inside me.

Finishing his tea, he sets the cup carefully on the marble worktop, then he strolls toward me and places a hand on either side of my waist, pinning me to the counter and leaning down to kiss my neck.

His breath fans against my throat, hot and steady, and my skin tingles with anticipation.

Every inch of me feels like a live wire, waiting to be touched.

Dark eyes come back to mine, and his kisses move to my lips.

I close my eyes, allowing the moment to immerse me.

My hands move to his face. I run my fingers over his square jawline.

A light stubble has spread across his skin, the coarseness of a day’s growth.

His dirty-blond curls flop over his forehead, and it feels like his clear green eyes can see into my soul.

Allowing my fingers to explore down his neck and across his wide shoulders, I feel every muscle through his shirt.

He feels incredible under my touch, and instinctively, I trail kisses down his throat as I continue to explore.

I’m enjoying the discovery of each toned muscle.

“Let’s go to bed,” he suggests.

We could just stand here forever, suspended in the calm before the storm. But I want the chaos. I want him. It only takes me a beat to make my decision to follow him when he takes my hand and leads me up a steel staircase to the upper floor of the house.

A king-sized black leather bed sits in the center of the room. It has black satin covers that flow over the sides. The room is masculine, with no soft touches against the stark white walls and black furniture. “Do you want to do this?” he asks.

“Yes,” I whisper under my breath. “I’ve never been as sure of anything in my life. I need your lips on my skin.”

His eyes darken with arousal. He lifts my top over my head and then releases the button on my jeans.

I wriggle out of them, and they pool around my feet on the wooden floor.

Standing here, before him, in my white lace panties and bra, I should feel nervous, but I don’t.

His obvious attraction to me boosts my confidence as he inspects my body.

It's been years since I was intimate with a man, and now that the chance is here, I’m aching for him. Desperate to feel the weight of him, the heat of his body on mine. I crave it with a hunger I didn’t know I still had.

“You’re fucking unreal. I could worship you for hours,” he murmurs as he walks around me. He runs his finger across my skin. My body melts under his touch, and the wetness floods between my legs. “I want you naked. Now.”

After taking his hand and kissing his knuckles, I smile sexily at him and lower my eyes to his crotch.

His erection is straining against the material.

“Patience. It’s my turn,” I say. “I deserve to see more of you.” My hands drop to his waistband and slowly unbutton his fly.

His cock springs free ― no underwear, absolute jackpot.

He unbuttons his shirt, and it exposes his wide chest and toned abs. He looks edible.

“I think you’re slightly overdressed,” he whispers, removing my underwear like a man who has done this a thousand times before. We stare at each other, hungry eyes drinking in our exposed bodies. His tongue runs over his bottom lip again, then he lifts me into his arms and carries me to the bed.

Starting at my throat, he kisses down my neck to my breasts.

His tongue flicks at my nipples, taking turns between them.

They harden instantaneously under his touch, and he smiles against my skin.

Continuing down my stomach, he nips and sucks until reaching my sex, inhaling deeply before moving between my legs.

He glances up, our eyes meet, and he gives me a dark smile.

“You have the most stunning pussy. Do you mind if I give her some attention?” My cheeks flush with his words. “I will take that as a yes.”

The drag of his stubble across my inner thigh sends a jolt through me. He’s not just taking his time. He’s savoring me. Every slow lick, every tease, is deliberate. Measured. Merciless.

His tongue plays with my clit, gently circling the sweet spot. With one thick finger, he explores my entrance, encouraging me to open, slowly pumping as my arousal builds. “So wet, baby,” he murmurs. “My cock is going to love being inside you.”

My hands rest on his head, and I lie back, enjoying the sensation building in my body. This man is a miracle worker—my climax has never felt so close, so quickly.

“I want you inside me,” I mumble.

“Patience. Good things come to those who wait. And I’m enjoying my dessert just now.”

“Joel, please.” A dark chuckle escapes him, then he increases the speed of his finger and tongue. The pleasure builds inside, and I groan, knowing the peak is near.

“You’re trembling, and I haven’t even given you the best of me yet. Tonight, I’ll ruin you for any man that comes after.”

He stills and moves from the bed. I’m lying wide open for him, my lips swollen and wet, waiting for him to sink inside. My hungry eyes watch as he saunters across the room, naked, with his erection hanging heavy between his legs. His confidence is mind-blowing.

After opening a drawer, he removes a box of condoms and takes one from its wrapper. The rip of the foil sends shivers down my body. I’m ready to be wrecked by him. Used. He rolls the latex down his hard length and strokes himself. The view is arousing as fuck.

He stands at the bottom of the bed, studying me.

“What?” I say, feeling suddenly shy.

“Just thinking, I feel like the luckiest man on earth, being able to sink my cock into your beautiful cunt.” The crudeness of his words is an aphrodisiac, not a turnoff.

No man has ever spoken to me that way. But this man could speak to me any way he wanted tonight.

This isn’t a one-night stand. It can’t be.

I don’t want to be someone he forgets by morning. It feels too real.

He crawls across the bed, his powerful body above mine and his dick resting on my stomach. In one movement, he places himself at my entrance and takes me powerfully, smashing my body into the mattress. He stills. “Okay?” he whispers. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

I don’t think I could stop letting him take my body, even if I wanted to. I need this.

“Fuck me,” I tell him. “Hard.”

Taking his cue, he moves slowly at first, but his pace builds as he loses control. He’s big; his cock fills me, and I can feel him everywhere.

Sitting up, he withdraws, then flips me over onto my knees, my ass in the air.

He slams in again, riding me hard. His muscular hands have an iron grip on my hips as he fucks my body, bruising my sides like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

And maybe I would, if he wasn’t holding me together with every thrust. I shatter.

Loud, needy, undone. And he follows, falling into me like I’m the only place he’s ever meant to land.

Sweat covers us as we sink to the mattress, our slick bodies wrapped together. We lie tangled in silence, and I’m not thinking about consequences. For once, I’m not asking what comes next. I just want to stay here, in this moment, with him.

I should feel used, maybe even ashamed. That’s how it usually goes—fast, hollow, forgettable. But tonight, I feel... full. Seen. Like maybe I’m not broken after all.

I don’t know what this is; I just know I don’t want to leave. And for the first time in a decade, someone doesn’t want me to.