through me.
When her blue gaze met mine, I saw the want and need. She was right there with me; burning alive. But I also saw a tiny flicker of . . . fear, maybe? Or apprehension?
“Nicole,” I whispered. “Do you know how badly I want you?” Her mouth curved just a fraction as she breathed in deeply. Leaning in, I kissed her lightly. “Don’t be afraid of me,” I told her.
“I’m not,” she whispered back.
Kissing her once more, ever so softly, I backed away and stared into her eyes. “Good. Because that kiss was the last gentle thing that will happen between us tonight.” Her eyes widened a fraction just as the doors to the elevator slid open. “After you,” I motioned. She raised her head, and stiffened her back, and by God, she brazenly shook her ass as she walked past me toward the apartment. I was definitely going to spank that ass several times.
As we entered the apartment, Parker slid by me and went to the kitchen. I waited, my feet somehow weighted to the floor, preventing me from moving. I was a swirl of feelings. There was want there; dear God, did I want him. But I had talked a big game. When he told me he’d treat me like his dirty little whore, heat and desire racked my body. No one ever spoke to me like that. No one ever referred to me as a whore for sexual purposes. And what was with me liking it? What woman wants to be told she’ll be treated like a whore?
Parker rounded the corner with two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. “Are you ready, princess?”
My face heated with his words. I didn’t like being called a princess. It made me feel as if he thought I was too good for his kind of sex; like I was a prude. “Lead the way, Mr. Hayes.”
Flashing me a knee-weakening grin, he winked and headed to the master bedroom. As I followed him, I silently breathed a sigh of relief that Edie and John weren’t back yet. That might have made things a little awkward.
We entered his bedroom and he shut the door behind me. The large, king-sized bed was perfectly made; a beautiful deep blue comforter and soft throw pillows covering it. I figured he must’ve had a maid, there was no way he made a bed that well. My feet felt heavy, the sensation of lead weights strapped across my ankles keeping me at a standstill as I watched Parker set the liquor and glasses on the dresser. He said nothing as he poured some of the amber fluid into each glass. Turning to me, he approached and handed me one of the glasses.
“A little courage,” he rasped. He smiled as he took a large swig.
Was he implying I was scared? I refused to let him believe that. I was scared; a little. I was a virgin and from Parker’s warnings, he was most definitely not a virgin. I put on my brave face and smirked.
“Courage?” I questioned mockingly. “Why, are you scared, Parker?”
His mouth curved up as he watched me toss back my drink. It burned my throat and hit my stomach like a pile of rocks, but I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t let him see any of my weaknesses.
Taking my glass, he went back to the dresser, tossing back the remainder of his drink along the way. After he sat the glasses down, he moved to the closet, opened it, and kicked his shoes off before removing his socks and tossing them inside. Then he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed that as well. My heart began to beat faster. He was in nothing but jeans, his muscular and defined back in my line of sight. When he turned, I sucked in a ragged breath. He heard it and smiled. He was beautiful. Tall and lean with toned muscles everywhere. I could almost imagine what his hard body would feel like against mine and I had to swallow the nervous lump in my throat. I was about to have sex. This devastatingly beautiful, virile man was going to be my very-first lover.
Parker walked to the bed and sat on the edge, facing me. I hadn’t moved since we entered, and still couldn’t for some reason. Leaning forward, he put his elbows on his knees
Learning to Kill: Stories