Page 44

“Hi,” Parker says, slipping off her sneakers and low cut socks. The door shuts behind her.

I take another drink, reaching for a puzzle piece, trying to ignore Parker’s red-painted toenails that appear out of the corner of my eye.

“Almost finished?” she asks.

Abandoning the puzzle, I rise from the couch. “Left the rest for you.”

Parker sighs as I walk past, halfway to the stairs. “Fitz. Can we please talk?”

I stop, gripping the glass. Turning, I hold my free arm out. “I’ve said everything already. Everything . And you haven’t.”

“That’s not fair and you know it.” Parker drapes my letterman jacket over the back of the chair across from the couch.

“Yeah, well, life isn’t fair sometimes. It doesn’t always have to be difficult though. But I’m not the one making it that way, Parker. You are.”

Parker cowers and fuck me, I’m an asshole. I’m a lovesick, head over heels, asshole for it.

She takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I hate that I ruined the night when it meant something to you.”

“That’s what you don’t get, Parker. You. You mean something to me. You’re what”—I pause, rubbing my temple with my free hand—“I don’t know who you think I am. But I’m not like them. I’m not like your family who doesn’t give a shit about you or where you are except when they need you.”

“I know.”

I put my glass down on the coffee table and tilt up her chin. “I don’t think you do. I also don’t think you have the slightest clue about how I feel—how I’ve felt —about you. Because if you did, you probably wouldn’t be here right now. You probably would’ve left and gone who knows where.”

Part of me wants to soften the grip I now have on her chin. But I’m angry. I’m fed up.

“How I feel about you,” I begin, dipping my head closer. “It scares the shit out of me. Back then, when we were kids, you could’ve called it a crush, sure. Me thinking I’d never seen a prettier girl, never met a funnier or more interesting girl, yeah, go ahead and call it a crush. That’s probably the best word to use in that situation when the other doesn’t feel the same way. Now, we’re all grown up. And my biggest mistake in all of this isn’t agreeing to marry you. It’s not telling you that back in high school, I spent an ungodly amount of time wondering if, one day, if you went from my crush to my wife, if it would feel the same way.”

Her lips tremble just inches from my fingers. “Does it?”

“No.” I drop my hand. “It’s better. It’s better for me, even though I know you don’t feel the same way. But that’s on me. That was my mistake, not yours. You were right. I’m in too deep. And I know you won’t save me.”

I leave it at that, turning to head up the stairs when Parker grabs my arm.

“I never thought you were like them,” she begins, wiping away a tear that’s fallen onto her cheek. “I know you’re not like them, Fitz.”

I shake my head, looking down.

“And I know you don’t believe me right now,” Parker says. “But there’s only one person I’ve ever really trusted and that’s you. And you proved that to me tonight.”

I don’t know what I proved to Parker this evening apart from the fact that I’m a jealous, overprotective husband, even when it comes to my fake wife.

She lets go of my hand steps away to get her bag. Opening it, she pulls out the name tag I left beneath the bleachers and passes it to me.

But then Parker puts something else into my hand, and I never realized how something so small and insignificant could bring everything together. I shut my eyes, fisting the name tag and the missing puzzle piece she’s been carrying around this entire time.

“You were the only one who ever looked for me. Not just when I was gone”—Parker places her hand over mine that’s shaking—“but when I was still around. You’ve always been there for me. And I believe you. I believe you’ve always loved me.”

Slowly, I open my eyes, looking at our hands together. “I was going to kiss you that night.”

I’m hit with the smell of the freshly cut grass, the scent that floated off Parker’s hair. I can feel how her pulse raged beneath the thin, delicate skin of her wrist as I held it while we ran for cover. Her fast heartbeat matched my own. That night, Parker’s heart raced because of the adrenaline. And mine raced because of Parker.

“Why didn’t you?” she asks.

Bringing my eyes up, I lock them on hers. “I was afraid you didn’t want me to and then I’d ruin everything.”

“If I kissed you now,” Parker whispers, “would I ruin everything?”

The pin of Parker’s name tag pierces my hand as I fight against the urge to be the one who does it. But I can’t tonight. Not after putting it all on the table. Not after all of her pretending.

“Only if it’s not real.”

It’s not when Parker lifts her head and presses her mouth to my lips that I know it’s real. It’s the moment her free fingers wind with mine that hang at my side. It’s in her delicate wrist I feel it—the wild racing of her pulse that matches the beat of my heart.

The softness of her pillowy lips feels like a swipe of velvet against my own, and I let myself linger, appreciating without pushing for more. I want Parker to take it. And when she presses her mouth to mine, punctuating the end of the kiss, I worry I know what false hope tastes like.

But in the next breath, she pounces, and somehow it seems like this is our first real kiss.

I abandon the delicate hand-holding. The name tag and puzzle piece fall to our feet, and even though they’re precious, there’s nothing else in the world more important to hold than Parker. But I know how intensely I hold her doesn’t matter. Parker shows me she isn’t going anywhere in the way she jumps up, wrapping her legs around me, in the way her nails scrape at my scalp with one hand and the scruff on my cheek with the other. She’s here, clutching and clawing, and trusting me.

I palm her ass more firmly, drawing a delicious rock of her hips against my middle that sends the blood rushing and pooling below.

“Fitz.”

Parker keeps saying my name over and over, making me determined to hear it out of her mouth at every level of her voice—a whisper, a scream, a moan like the one she releases, which I swear I feel in every part of my body. To prove it, I lower her so my hard, swollen tip rubs against the apex of her thighs.

“Do you feel that? Do you feel what you do to me?” I nip at her ear before dragging my lips across her cheek and back to her mouth. “Even when you drive me fucking crazy, this is how hard you get me. What’s more real than that?”

“If you moved your hands just a little.” She rocks against me, painting my lips with lipstick and another one of those delicious sounds. “You’d find out.”

I lean back, lowering her to the ground. “I want you to show me.”

Parker pants, her gorgeous face a mixture of desire and distress. “W-what?”

I take a few steps backward, without ever breaking eye contact, and sink back into the chair.

Slowly, I unbuckle my belt, releasing the leather, and undo the top button of my shorts. My cock strains angrily against the fabric of my boxer briefs but happily adjusts to the new available space.

Parker begins to approach, but I hold a hand up.

“Take off your dress.”

Something inside me objects. I want to be the one to strip her down. But more than that, I need to see her want to do it for me.

Parker lifts the bottom of the red dress, raising the fabric so it slips above her head.

I lick my lips. “Take everything off.”

The moment the black lace panties and matching bra hit the floor, my cock jerks.

She takes a step closer to me.

“No.” I tsk. “On your knees.”

Parker tilts her head in confusion, her dark hair falling forward. A tight, rose-colored nipple peeks through the dark strands. I grip the swollen head of my dick.

“Fitz, what?—”

“Get on your knees,” I command, leaning back in the chair. “And crawl.”

Parker’s eyes widen.

I smirk, lifting my hips so I can tug down my briefs. “What? You’re worried about everyone else believing this is real. You should care more about showing your husband.”

Parker’s gaze drifts down as she watches me begin to stroke.

“Now, crawl. Show me how far you’re willing to go.”

The tip of Parker’s pink tongue swipes over her lips. That alone should be enough to do me in—seeing just the smallest bit of her wanting me—and it almost is. I drag the cum that’s aching to explode from my tip down. When Parker slowly gets on all fours, my balls tighten.

“Ass up, eyes up, baby,” I tell her. “Eyes on me.”

Parker’s body curves deliciously as she snakes her way toward me, her mouth parted, breaths quickening.

As soon as she’s close enough, I reach out, rubbing one of her hard nipples between my fingers before palming her breast. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad,” Parker mewls.

Her warm breath hits the sensitive skin of my swollen tip as her chest heaves with pants.

“ Now you can be a good girl,” I tell her as she sits back on her knees. “And show me.”

I hold on, winding my fingers in her hair, but don’t guide Parker. I wait, letting her inch forward and slide my underwear and shorts fully down to my ankles. It only takes a second, but I wonder if I might pass out from the shock of the beauty that is the way her slightly-smudged red lips press a wet, soft kiss to the tip of my dick.

“Jesus, fuck.” I have room for no other words as Parker does it again and again before sliding her mouth more open against me and moving down, her tongue massaging the underside of my shaft.

I tighten my hand in her hair, noting how she moans when my fingers grab the locks harder before I soften my hold and smooth back the strands because I refuse to miss out on one second of the view before me.

But with Parker’s face unobstructed, doe eyes wide and glassy, her mouth full of me, I throw my head back. The sight alone threatens to bring me closer to the edge.

We’ve hardly started, and I already never want it to end.

“That’s it,” I hiss my encouragement softly so I hear each and every sound.

The mumbled moans.

The sharp breaths coming in and out of her nose.

The smacking of her lips when she releases me from her mouth.

My head falls forward, finding a smirk on Parker’s face as her hand takes her mouth’s place.

I run a finger back and forth across her bottom lip. “Didn’t take all that much to ruin your lipstick.”

Parker gives me that wicked little grin before capturing my finger between her teeth, circling the tip of it with her tongue as she continues to stroke.

A grunt breaks free from my chest when Parker releases my finger and moves back to my throbbing length, taking me deep in her mouth again. She moans around me as I whimper her name, my hips jutting forward on their own.

A pop sounds from Parker’s mouth when she pulls her head back. I cup her cheek headily, loving the way my swollen tip rests against her lips.

“Relax,” she whispers, kissing my palm and up to the inside of my wrist.

It’s not possible. I’m a grown-ass man living out my teenage dream.

But this, I know, is so much better than I ever could’ve imagined. Because looking at Parker as she switches to softly stroking me while dragging her mouth and leaving a trail of kisses along my thighs, crouched before me like she’s in worship, is everything .

Teenage Fitz wouldn’t have lasted for a second.

But Fitz now? I close my eyes again and lean into the softness of her strokes, of her kisses, her breathing. I take in everything .

Until Parker stops.

Her mouth abandons my skin, and her hand releases me. But none of her warmth has slipped away. I open my eyes, finding she’s somehow scooched closer, her head now tilted to the side.

I’ve never trembled harder in my life than the moment she traces her handwriting tattooed into my skin just above my hip.

There’s a change to the room. I hold my breath, my tense body beginning to tremble.

But when Parker leans forward and presses her lips to my tattoo, I go into full-on shaking.

“When did you do this?” she asks, resting her cheek against my thigh.

“The day after I graduated from Thacher,” I admit as my chest heaves with deep breaths.

A small, sharp gasp flees from Parker’s mouth as her eyes widen, pooling with tears. My hands fling down to her shoulders to grab her because I can’t take space between us anymore, but I’m not fast enough. She climbs onto my lap, leaning her forehead to mine as her center hovers above my swollen tip.

“Why?” she whispers against my lips.

I press my nose against hers, watching Parker’s beautiful eyes fight to keep from fluttering closed. Because we’re close— so close. The heat between her legs is magnetic as it covers me, and she feels it. But she’s strong willed, and I love that about her. I’m grateful that her eyes are wide open as I bare the depth of my love.

“You matter so much, I needed to take a piece of you with me.”

I’ll never forget the sound of a sob blended with a mewl that Parker pours into my mouth when she crashes her lips to mine. Or the way she clutches at me when she sinks down, coating me in her warmth, letting me feel the race of her heart from deep within.

Like her words— our words—I’ll carry this with me forever.

Parker lets me guide our movements, but I let her linger before the up so she can grind down against me with a swivel of her hips. I wish I could be easier, my grip on her hip softer, my kisses much gentler. I wish I could appreciate the softness of Parker’s thighs spread over mine, the shape of her breasts as they bounce, the way her skin smells, how sweet she tastes.

“You’re perfect.” I whisper it along her collarbone, her chest, wherever I can drag my mouth. I want to paint her skin in the words, every inch of it.

My hands take her face, and I hold her lips to mine for a minute before sliding to her waist and lifting her off me. It’s a loss we both sigh frustratedly at the break in connection.

I tap her thigh. “Wrap your legs around me.”

Chest heaving, Parker does, and I slide my hands to her ass, taking her with me as I stand.

“I need to feel all of you,” I whisper against her parted mouth while I head toward her bedroom. My tip rubs against Parker’s slit. “Fuck.”

I can’t make it to the bedroom. It’s impossible to muster up the patience for five more damn steps when this is a lifetime in the making. I slam her against the wall beside the door, pushing inside her once more. It’s fast and harsh, a song of frantic movements, bites, and scratches. Neither of us let up. Neither of us back down.

Parker whines as she wraps her arms around my neck. Each thrust brings her higher and I nip at her jaw. “Fitz, please.” She digs her heel into my lower back, anchoring herself for leverage and god, I can’t give her enough of me.

It’s impossible. She’s had me all along.

Parker begins rolling her hips, and I can feel it, the way she’s climbing.

“Not yet.” I lap at her skin. I buck into her at full force because that’s what she begs for.

“Harder,” she mewls.

I lick a drop of my own sweat off her skin, and fuck, it’s so hot. “Any harder,” I grunt out, “And I’ll break you.”

Parker’s fingers claw at my cheeks again, bringing my face flush against hers. She nips at my lip. “You can.”

I still, pressing my forehead to hers.

“You’re the only one I ever want breaking me, Fitz.”

My heart is on the verge of bursting out of my chest.

“Because you’re the only one I want putting me back together. Only you.” Parker kisses me with trembling lips. “Always.”

Every part of me feels that—my balls, my heart, the tips of my fingers that dig into her flesh when I take her off the wall, finally managing to make it through the door and into her room. I hate that we break contact when I lower her onto the bed, but the way Parker scampers higher up, reaching for me, steals my breath.

“I never wanted to be without you,” I tell her.

Parker’s eyes drop to my tattoo. “I know,” she whispers.

I crawl onto the bed, hovering over her. “I never want to be without you.”.

I kiss the sides of her mouth as I lower myself down, sliding inside of her again.

“All of you.” I lean on my forearms, caging her head. “Every part of you. Exactly how you are.”

Parker’s mouth latches onto mine, and she claws at me, bringing all of my weight on top of her body. I slide a hand down to her thigh, lifting it, because god, when I lose myself in Parker, let it be in the deepest part of her so I can never get it back.

“Fitz…” she circles against me each time I meet her, panting against my mouth. I pull back.

“Look at me.”

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and whimpers when she opens her eyes and I pull back before thrusting up, rolling my hips. I brace myself to do it again, but Parker releases her lip and the most delicious noises flow from her mouth as she tightens, spasming around me. The only word she manages is my name.

And god , does that sound differently out of her mouth when she’s mine.

I lean back over her, swallowing down all the beats of my name as I unload every part of me—and what feels like a lifetime of love—deep inside her.