Feather Light (Knead Me) (6 page)

BOOK: Feather Light (Knead Me)
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“It smells good.” He touched the edge of the table until he bumped into a chair. Feeling for the back of it, he pulled it out for her. Ann sat down, and he went around to his chair.

“Where do you want me to put your water and wine glass?”

Her attention to detail was touching, and he gave her a smile. “My one o’clock. Water on the left, and wine glass to the right.” Parker listened to the sounds she made while she did what he’d told her. He fought the urge to compliment Ann on her obedience, something that came naturally to him.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Bon appétit.” The sound of metal scraping against the china prompted him to pick up his own utensils.

They dug into the oysters first, and Parker’s thoughts kept going back to the idea behind the food choice. “This is good.”

“I knew you’d like it. You seem like an oyster man.” Ann laughed but offered no explanation.
 

“What is an ‘oyster man’?” he asked after he’d swallowed the first oyster.

“Someone who enjoys his
food
.” Another innuendo.

Parker nearly choked and reached for his water. He must have drunk half of it, because Ann got up and refilled his glass. Wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead, he wanted to avoid the topic, but it seemed like he was being cornered.

“Yes, I do enjoy my food. There’s a certain way I like to eat it, though.”

He guessed she was trying to figure out what he meant when silence loomed between them. Instead of replying, Ann started clearing the appetizer plate and placed another one in front of him.

“Do you want me to cut the meat for you?” Her tone was laced with concern.

Parker shook his head. “Just tell me how big the steak is, and I can take it from there.”

She leaned closer, enough for him to catch a whiff of her sweet scent. “Um . . . let’s see. It’s about the size of a CD.”
 

“Thanks.” He got to work, and after several minutes of biting and chewing, Parker leaned back in his chair and started a safe conversation.

“Tell me, Ms. Sutton, what do you do for a living?”

Ann didn’t answer right away. He’d thought the topic was safe enough for two people trying to get to know each other, but he felt a subtle change in the room—some sort of tension he couldn’t explain.

“I’m not doing anything at the moment,” she said after a noticeable pause.

“Must be nice. I’m a slave to my work.” He laughed.

“Let’s just say I’m wealthy.”

Parker had no idea what to say to that, so he went for whatever came to mind. “Even better. You’re a rich bum. Tell me about your life as a bum, then.”

There was another extended silence, which lasted longer than the first. “Nothing much to tell except I travel a lot. I have a sister in Chicago. That’s where I grew up until I moved to Los Angeles several years ago. My parents are both dead. I’m twenty-six years old. That’s about it.”

“What’s the color of your hair and your eyes?”
 

“I’m a natural redhead, and I have hazel eyes.”

He inclined his head. “Light-skinned and freckles?”

“Well, I try to hit the tanning salon when I can.” Ann laughed and took a sip of her wine. “And I have a gazillion freckles.”

“I can just imagine.”

“Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m more of an open book, I guess, because of Knead Me’s success. A lot of what is written about me is almost right.
Almost
.” Parker chuckled before continuing. “I grew up in the San Fernando Valley, in Encino. I was into cross-country running before blindness got the best of me.”

“Must be hard, I mean, you know . . . having to adjust to another lifestyle.”
 

“As I said earlier, it didn’t happen overnight, so I had time to make some adjustments. I still run on the track with a sighted guide. I learned some things before profound blindness took over. I took a crash course in Braille, I let the light guide me for directions, if I can, and I try not to hassle people if I can avoid it. Driving was the hardest thing to give up.” He sighed.

“How do you get around? And how come you don’t use one of those sticks?” There was no malice in her tone, just innocent curiosity, which was a breath of fresh air.

“My brother, Cork, came to work for me when I couldn’t drive any longer. He lives a few miles from my place, and he handles the books. As for the white cane, I don’t want it yet. I can still recognize shapes and distance. It’s still good enough to get around. I try not to cross the street without company. Cork had inquired about a guide dog for me. The process takes some time, and I’m currently on the waiting list, if I ever want one.”

“You seemed well-adjusted to your . . .” Ann paused.

Parker supplied the word she was searching for. “Disability?”

“I don’t think that’s the word I’m looking for.
Challenges
sounds better to me.”

“In a way, I guess I am adjusted already. I have no choice. I have to live and make the most out of life, right?” Parker tried to look straight in the direction of her face, hoping his aim was right.

“Well, Parker, I’m happy for you. I wish everyone could be like you, happy with what they have in life.” Ann drew in a sharp breath.

Her sigh raised another suspicion he couldn’t ignore. “Are you happy with what you have?” he asked.

“Time for dessert.” She got up and cleared the dinner plates, placing another dish in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow but decided not to press. Dinner was delicious, and the company, even more so. Parker couldn’t remember the last time he had been out on an actual date and enjoyed himself since his business had taken off. He found it difficult not to give in to his curiosity about this interesting woman.
 

As the night progressed and the wine bottle emptied, they sat on the sofa, holding each other’s hands. They skirted around the topic of sex, since Ann refused to talk more about herself.

Judging from her rapid breathing, Parker was certain of one fact and one fact alone—he desired her as much as she wanted him. But he wasn’t about to say anything. Instead, he focused on rubbing her arm and trailing feather light touches along the back of her neck.

Ann moaned. “Parker . . . I think you have an idea how I feel about you.” She got up and tugged on his arm.

He stood and pulled her close until their bodies touched. Inhaling her scent, he sighed. “I think I do . . . but . . . shit, how do I say this?”

“Tell me.” Her voice was a husky whisper.

Parker shuddered. It was crazy, but he was about to tell a woman he hardly knew what he wanted. He had to if he wanted to give whatever they had a chance.

“I don’t do regular sex, Ann,” he said.

Chapter 4

In Parker’s arms, Kelly felt inexplicably safe and desired because he asked questions instead of pushing her into bed like the others had done in the past. His genuine concern for her troubles made her feel special and was not the way most men would go about getting a chance to be with her. To most, Kelly was just a prize they want and not a real person to cherish. With the way she’d been throwing hints at Parker, others would have jumped her already. How could she ignore the fact that she was in awe of his control in her presence?

The emotional combination he stirred within her was enough reason to pursue the man even more. Kelly had been in relationships with men not involved in show business and with another one who had worked in the entertainment industry. None of them had been successful because they’d either had no idea what she’d wanted, even if she’d made herself clear, or they’d been too much into themselves to even notice her needs.

Kelly had long given up on finding someone with whom she could share herself in every sense of the word. Most men saw her as a beautiful face, an actress who fueled their erotic fantasy, or even an accessory to be used in advancing their career.

Such had been the case of her relationship with Matthew Campbell, a costar in one of her films. He was a budding actor, hungry for the spotlight, and she’d fallen for him and his manipulative ministrations, hard.

A few months after the success of their film and basking under the limelight, Kelly had found him in the arms of another woman, an actress with whom he’d been working. The tabloids and the media, though they’d taken Kelly’s side, had gotten too involved in their “tell-all” quest to air Matthew’s dirty laundry. Even if Kelly had been deemed the victim, most of their off-screen activities had been plastered all over for the whole world to see.

Kelly valued her privacy, or whatever was left of it. The media and her fans seemed to have forgotten that she still needed some time alone to regroup, to lick her wounds and feel the wind in her face without anyone clamoring to take her picture or chronicle her every movement. Contrary to what most people believed, public figures deserved a moment of peace, even if their fame placed them under scrutiny day in and day out.

Kelly shuddered at the warmth of Parker’s touch, but his words left her feeling bereft. “What do you mean you don’t do
normal
sex?”

Ideas began racing through her head.
For Christ’s sake, please don’t be gay! Just when I find a man close to perfect, there has to be an asterisk to what kind of sex he can do.

Parker’s eyes softened, and a tender expression crossed his face. He released her, and the sudden feeling of being lost strangled her. She wanted his arms around her. Kelly was proud of her independence and had always maintained she would never need someone to make her feel good about herself, but Parker was turning her into a woman who needed a man in her life. What had happened to her independent spirit?
 

He ran the back of his hand along the side of her face, as if he were reading her emotions. “I’m not gay, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“But . . . you said—”

To prove his point, Parker lowered his mouth to hers for a kiss she hadn’t expected but immensely welcomed. His lips were soft, yet firm—just as she’d expected. Kelly couldn’t afford to close her eyes. She wanted to look at him, to see his face up close, and feel his emotions transferring to her.

When his tongue sought hers, she responded with equal passion. She let him lead, and she followed, loving the way his warmth spread all over her mouth. Kelly had been kissed before, but nothing or no one could come close to the excitement Parker evoked in her.

She burned with desire and pressed closer, feeling the hardness of his thigh muscles as they rubbed against her body. Her skin tingled with anticipation, wishing she could drag him to the bed right then and taste what he had to offer. 

Feeling on the verge of losing control, Kelly pulled back. “I want to feel you inside me.” Her breath came in strangled spurts. She watched his jaw clench, and he sighed.

Parker took her face, as if he wanted to
see
her reaction to what he was about to say. “Ann, I wish I could change myself, just for you, even for one night. But I’m afraid you wouldn’t understand, even if I tried to tell you.”

Not wanting to lose the magic of moment, Kelly stood on tiptoes and licked his mouth with her tongue. “I want you to
show
me what you mean.”

He drew back, but his hands remained on her cheeks. “You have no idea what kind of loving I’m looking for . . . and besides, I’m not prepared. I didn’t bring any protection.” His breath was growing haggard, seeming very close to losing control. She could see the conflict in his face.

Kelly pulled him to the direction of the bed a little too forcefully because he almost stumbled. She steadied him and draped her arm around his waist. “I was a Girl Scout once. I’ve always kept one in case of emergency.” Goodness, didn’t she just sound so desperate? Thank God he couldn’t see the horrified expression on her face.

“Ann, you have no idea what kind of person I am. You might not want me by the end of the night.” Parker took hold of the back of her neck, albeit gently. She knew he was searching for uncertainty from her by way of touch.
 

“I would feel the same way I felt when I first saw you. Nothing would change it.” Kelly led him to the bed. “Light on or off?”

Parker inclined his head, not knowing what to make of her. After a second, he gave his preference. “I need a little light, so I can see your silhouette.”

Kelly’s gaze traveled down to the tenting in his slacks. He was sporting a hard-on that was difficult to ignore. “Lights on, then.”

“Don’t take your clothes off until I say so.”

Kelly stared at him in surprise and remembered what she had said earlier: she wanted a man to tell her what to do. She nodded her head. After a second, she realized he wouldn’t know her answer unless she spoke. “Okay.”

With a sweep of his hand, Parker enfolded her in his arms once more. “Let me taste you again.” She obliged and closed her eyes this time. 

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