A Graceful Mess (7 page)
“You too, Parker.” Bringing her hand back to the door handle, she pulls on it allowing warm air to escape the building. It hits me in the face and then she’s gone. I stand watching her until her body rounds the corner to the left before I reach down and adjust my dick which is pulsating in my boxers. It hasn’t been that long since I’ve gotten laid. A week maybe, since I met a girl down at the grocery store. Amber, I think her name was. She gave me a good ride, but then wanted to lie around all day and cuddle and talk. I’m not into all of that. I run a business. I don’t even have time to eat sometimes, let alone sit around like a lovesick puppy all day.
The cold breeze brings me back to reality. I make my way back to my truck, but thoughts of Grace don’t seem to diminish, neither does my giant hard-on. I don’t want blue balls; they fucking suck. I look over my shoulder, left then right. No one is around, it’s the middle of the night, and I have blacked out windows. I can’t believe I am even considering this as I hop into my truck. Not in twenty-six years have I ever jerked off anywhere but in my own house or dorm room. Since tonight is a first for a lot of things, I might as well succumb to my trusty sidekick, Jill. My favorite girl is also my right hand. She knows just how to work it and get me ready.
I quickly unzip my jeans and hit the automatic door lock button. I don’t want my windows getting steamy, so I crack the driver’s side window. It lets in just enough cool air. Her smell is still in here and it only makes my dick twitch more. I open the glove box in search of lotion, but it’s empty other than my driver’s manual. Who the hell am I kidding? I don’t ride around jerking off daily, so why would I have a travel-size bottle of lotion at my disposal now?
Adjusting my body in my seat, I put my hand in the opening of my boxers. My dick is fuckin’ hot and rigid to the touch. I can feel the vein running from the tip of my head down to the base. It’s thick and ready. Running my thumb over the hole at the top, tiny droplets of pre-cum have already escaped, an indication of how fucking horny I am. I slide the wetness down and around the head; it’s the only fucking lubricant I have so it will have to do. Just that one movement makes my legs extend farther into the floorboard. I tilt my neck back so the top of my head is leaning against the headrest and open my mouth slightly. Jill, my right hand, tightly grasps my length and strokes it. My hand slides up and down, pumping repeatedly at a steady rhythm. The pleasure makes my toes curl in my boots.
“Ahh,” I moan out loud after several minutes of pleasure pass. I use my left hand to cup my tight balls that are drawing closer to my body, ready to explode at any second. I close my eyes and picture my hand is Grace’s mouth, her sweet little lips parted around my thick cock. She takes me in slowly at first, but is excited by my verbal praise. It makes her more eager to suck me deeper. I tilt my hips up in my seat, like I am pushing my waist closer to her face.
“Fuck,” I grunt.
What the fuck did Grace Clearwater do to me?
Once the steel elevator doors open, I go to open my clutch to retrieve my keys, but I realize I don’t have it. I must have left it in Parker’s truck. I consider calling Maci, but quickly remember my cell is in my clutch. She probably wouldn’t answer anyway. Sliding off my heels, I leave them resting against my locked apartment door and rush back towards the elevator. Catching it with my hands right before it closes, I walk in. I don’t know why he would still be here but it’s worth a shot. My hands pound on the button that reads “level one” over and over until the orange light finally appears. My stomach drops as the steel box descends down towards the ground floor. I run as fast as my bare feet allow me to the exit, where I see his truck still parked.
What is he still doing here?
The ground is ice cold below my feet. It feels like when you’re cold and get into a hot shower, and the water that falls from the faucet feels like a million tiny daggers stabbing your feet. My hot skin pounds on the freezing pavement as I run towards his truck. As I approach it, I notice it isn’t running. It’s silent, unlike before when the gigantic engine was roaring life from under the hood. The windows are so dark I can hardly see if he’s in it. Going around to the driver’s side door, I pound on the glass with the palm of my hand. Then I see his shadow quickly dart up. He is almost hugging the steering wheel, as if he doesn’t want me to see what he is hiding on his lap.
“Parker! Open up. I left my purse.”
The window doesn’t roll down. Squinting through the dark tinted glass, I see him pull something from the back seat. I wonder if he got sick. He didn’t seem drunk, but he is wiping something off of his lap. Puke maybe?
“Hello! Are you okay?”
The window slides down in between its plastic tracks and there he is, wide-eyed and shocked. Why are his cheeks flushed, like he just ran a marathon? His forehead is clammy; I can see little beads of sweat on it. He must not feel well.
“Are you okay?” He pauses, thinking way too hard for an answer and then chuckles.
“What’s so funny?
“Nothing. Perfect timing.” He smirks.
“Uh, okay. I just left my clutch in here and my keys are in it. It’s over there on the floorboard. Would you mind grabbing it?”
He leans over to pick up my forgotten purse and then holds it out of the window without a word. Silence hangs in between us. The moment almost feels uncomfortable, but I don’t want to be rude and leave him out here. If he was still sitting in his truck he must have been too ill to drive. The least I could do is invite him upstairs. We stare blankly into each other’s eyes, and I wonder what he is thinking as I silently debate whether or not to ask a total stranger to stay the night with me. All reasoning went out the window the moment my blue eyes met his.
“You don’t look like you feel well. Would you like to come upstairs and at least get a glass of water? You might be dehydrated from drinking.” He looks down at the seat in front of him, but he doesn’t respond. The window slowly rolls up.
Is he seriously ignoring me?
I step back and allow myself to feel…what? Anger? Why am I angry? So he is a jerk, okay. It’s not like he’s the first or the last I’ll ever meet, and it’s not like I’m inviting him up to have sex. It’s just some water, and he is bluntly being rude. The sound of his truck unlocking grabs my attention. He steps out of the driver’s side door and is standing in front of me, just as sexy as before. It’s like sex appeal just oozes off of him. Even with wrinkly jeans and dirty boots – my doing – his demeanor still draws me to him.
“I’d like that glass of water.”
“Sure. Umm, follow me.” We walk in silence back to the glass doors and ride in the elevator to my floor. I bend to pick up my heels that are still resting in the hallway and dig in my purse to find my keys. When I open the door, the smell of Hawaiian Breeze from our plug-in air freshener hits me in the face.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” I joke, holding my arms out on either side of my body and motioning around the open space. I’m not going to lie – our apartment is gigantic. Too big for us, that much is evident, but it’s nice, and it’s home. Laying my purse and shoes on the floor, I walk barefoot across the cold hardwood to the kitchen. We have an open floor plan so the only thing separating us is an island with granite countertops.
“Is water okay?” My words sound different, almost seductive. Something I am for sure not used to being or meaning to sound like. He nods and his lips slowly part, giving my eyes full access to his tongue. I reach up into the cabinet and grab a cup, then run my finger under the cold water streaming from the faucet. Sliding the plastic cup in his direction, I use a little too much force and water splashes over the rim of the cup. He doesn’t move to pick it up. Instead he takes a step towards me, his eyes never leaving mine. His stare is so intense, I briefly look away from his eyes and see his Adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallows. Debating on picking up his glass of water, I do my best to play it cool, but my body burns. I can actually feel my temperature rising. My breath catches as my hands move behind my body to brace myself on the refrigerator. He pauses to gauge my reaction to his movement, and then takes another step closer. I don’t know what to do or think of this situation. If we are being honest, I really want to reach out and run my hands down his chest. A chest I am sure is hard and chiseled safely tucked away from the world, hidden under his button-up. But I am scared. I have almost zero knowledge about stuff like this. Being I have only willingly had sex with two other men and there was nothing romantic about either of those encounters. One left me a sobbing mess for years and the other I regretted almost immediately. For some reason I feel a sense of safety. I don’t think he would hurt me. I know I don’t know him, and he is huge. He could surely crush me and leave me for dead if he wanted, but he doesn’t seem like the murderer type. If he really wanted me dead, he wouldn’t have introduced himself as Carson’s brother. There is a distinct connection there. Not to mention I know his buddy, Spencer, and where his business is. If he did anything stupid, certainly the cops could find him with that little bit of information.
What has gotten into me tonight?
My mind has no more time to think because he moves closer, again. In one swift motion our faces are so close I can feel the tip of his nose brushing against mine. His scent reminds me of fresh linens. Parker grabs one of my hands and slowly brings it up towards his mouth. Placing the pads of my index finger and my middle finger on the center of his lips, he kisses them softly as his eyes stare into mine. There is something so intimate about the gesture, I almost feel like crying. Not because I am sad, but simply because the raw kindness that comes off of him pulls at my heart in ways I didn’t think were possible. The sound of his lips making a soft kissing noise fills the air, and as soon as his eyes open, I instantly throw my body against him. I jump in his arms like he is my knight in shining armor saving me from the fire spitting dragon and his embrace is the only thing that can save my soul. His arms open and hold me tightly around my back as he staggers backwards from the force, the island catching our bodies, preventing us from hitting the floor. My daring behavior takes us both off guard as my lips find his. I have never felt like this before. It’s an aching need that I have to have filled. I will not stop until the yearning in my core is satisfied.
I don’t even have time to react to the pure feeling of emotion as my lips press against her small fingers, when she leaps into my arms. It’s like the little peck on her fingers was the secret button, turning her into a wild sex kitten. The thought isn’t half bad, but I can tell she isn’t the type. I really can’t even believe this is happening. I was just jerking off in my truck thinking about her sexy ass, and now here we are making out like a couple of kids in her kitchen. Her mouth opens more, giving my tongue better access. For a split second, I remember she puked less than an hour ago. The thought doesn’t seem to repulse me like it should though, and her fervent hands lifting up the bottom of my shirt tell me she wants me, so I ignore the germ warnings chanting in my brain.
She seems so eager, like her mouth can’t get enough of me as her tongue swirls its way around my mouth in a hurry, exploring me. We need to slow down. I know this will be the only fucking time I allow myself this close to her. After Monday, hell, after tomorrow, I will be a distant memory. I will have to keep my distance to do my job and be extra careful her beauty doesn’t tempt me again. But I’m only human, and a man at that with pure testosterone pumping through my veins. Feeling her hands graze along the waistband of my jeans makes me want to slide them down and go to pound town. She hasn’t journeyed any further than the waist of them, but she is only inches away from the prize. My prize. And I think it’s about time she collect her winnings.
I nip at her bottom lip, causing her to lean her head back and moan. She is still suspended in the air being held up by my arms. When she leans back, it gives me a perfect view of her neck. Her skin is flawless like an angel. Her blonde hair hangs to about the middle of her back and is on her shoulder, so I raise my hand to brush it off and lean forward to kiss her neck. My lips part and allow the tip of my tongue to taste her perfect skin for the first time. Her body shudders causing my dick to twitch in my pants. I lick her slowly from her collarbone up to her ear at first, and then part my mouth and allow my lips to suck and taste her sweet skin. Small moans escape her mouth. They are so quiet, they are barely noticeable, but in the silence our bodies’ noises of pleasure are the only thing surrounding us.
