Page 13 of Desirable
“Then why did you wait until now?”
Parker pushes off me and opens the door to the car, gesturing me in. “Because kissing you is like eating Pringles. Once I pop, I can’t stop.”
“Be honest. The real reason you had to hire a date is because none of the models would agree to go on a second date with you with that level of cheese. You should be careful; what if I’m lactose intolerant?”
“Smartass. Things need to feel more natural between us. And this constant wanting-to-jump-each-other’s-bones energy is not believable.”
“I don’t want to jump your bones. I said–”
Parker levels me with a look and I shift to cross my legs at the feeling of desire growing there. “I know what you said, no sex, but that’s not what your eyes say, and that’s not what you said when you had your vibrator buried in that pretty pussy of yours. So, excuse me if I choose not to believe that.”
“That means you want me too,” I point out. I need to look away from him, but I can’t. I want to drown in his eyes and plunge headfirst into whatever comes with him.
“I said as much when I came all over you. I would push that dress up around your waist right now and have you ride me until we get to dinner. And after you scream my name and we’ve had dinner, I would take my dessert in the back seat of this car until you were screaming my name again. I’ve noticed how vocal you are.”
With each word, he presses closer to me, and fuck, I do want to ride him. I do want to slide his cock into me and rock against him until I forget who I am and where we are and that this isn’t supposed to be real.
Even if it feels so,soreal.
“Tell me about Liv,” I say, dousing water on us both.
Parker gives me a smug grin, knowing exactly why I did that. “Over dinner. We’re here now, anyway.”
I’m panting as I get out of the car, and I feel so unsatisfied.
The restaurant is small and intimate, but crowded. I get the distinct impression that Parker wasn’t counting on it being like this since it’s early March and hardly anyone is usually at their Hamptons house. He smiles and ducks his head, saying “hi” when people call out to him.
Once we’re seated, he seems to relax a little.
“It’s a tasting menu, so no need to order. They’ll also bring a wine pairing.”
I try not to let my face show my disappointment. I’m sure this food is going to be out of this world. I’m sure it will be like nothing I’ve ever had before. I’m also positive I’m going to leave this dinner starving.
Once our wine has been served, I ask, “So, why not get a real girlfriend? Why go the fake-dating route? It’s like we’re dating for real.”
Parker pauses with the glass just on his lips. He finishes the sip before clearing his throat and smoothing down his tie. “At a certain net worth, I’ve found women are really after the largest part of me.”
“Your dick?” I ask, keeping my expression light.
Parker snorts, and it’s so undignified, it reminds me that there is more to him than zeros in a bank account.
“How much money I make and how much I can give them.”
“This is your daily reminder that you’re paying me to go out with you.”
We pause as our first course is delivered, and I was right. It’s a single egg that’s been hollowed out with some sort of foam inside and a tiny spoon to eat it. I finish it in one bite, and it is really, incredibly good.
“Yes, but you also aren’t doing it only because of what I can do for you. You said yes to help your sister. Which is appallingly noble. Having a full-time girlfriend means leaving someone behind if I have to spend three weeks in Paris. There are eventually feelings of resentment and entitlement and in the end, no one is happy.”
“You say that like you have experience.” I finish my glass of wine and watch him.
“Are you always so ready to cut to the quick with your words?”
“I figure I should know a little bit about what makes you insecure. I can go first. I think my sister is the better child. She’s always had her life figured out a little more than I did, so when Tyler told me that he wanted to fool around with other women while still dating me, it sort of reinforced that feeling of not being good enough.”
Parker is fidgeting with his wine stem when I make my confession and he pauses to watch me. “How long before we met did you break up?”
“Two weeks? Maybe three? Tamsin, my sister, had gotten married that month. This happened at her wedding. It took him a week to get his shit out of my apartment and find something new.”