Page 24 of Desirable
I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know!I scream at him in my head. What do I want from him? A relationship? An admission that this is more than just sex? I pace toward my room, wondering if I need space from him. I need to get this beautiful man out of my head, and maybe not looking at him will help.
“I want to feel less like you’re paying me to have sex with you.”
Parker is on his feet, crossing to me, our breakfast forgotten. He smooths the damp hair from my face before giving me a soft kiss on my forehead. Why does he have to turn me to goo with such tenderness?
“I am paying you to come to an event. I am paying you to act like you actually want to be around me. I amnotpaying you to kiss me, or to answer my texts at three a.m., or to be on my mind constantly. The minute that having sex with you is less about being with you and more about being with someone is the minute we stop having sex.”
It’s somehow the right thing to say. It’s not an admission that he’s feeling the same for me, and I can live with that. This weekend may end up being all we have, and if it is, then I’m going to make the most of it. I rise to the tips of my toes and kiss him, leaning forward because I know he’ll catch me.
CHAPTER11
We don’t stop having sex. There had been grand plans to visit the Louvre or walk around Montmartre, but we stay naked the entire day, luxuriating in the room. Parker bends me over the couch and bottoms out inside me. After lunch, he feasts on me, spreading me wide on the fainting couch by hooking one leg over the back before driving his cock home inside me.
We use up all the lube from the goody bags, and when the sun has set, Parker wraps me in the robe and eases me onto his cock while the Eiffel tower lights sparkle. Each time we’re together, I remind myself that this is just a vacation hookup and that I need to keep my heart in check.
* * *
Parker wakesme with a trail of kisses on my neck the next morning.
“No more sex,” I cry, burying my face into the pillow.
“Darling, you were the one who wokemewith a blow job,” he reminds me, pushing my hair back. He’s right. I woke up at two because I had to pee, and he looked like a god lying there with his chiseled muscles and tousled hair. I woke him with teasing kisses along his chest until he was awake enough to watch me suck him into my mouth. I’ve never been a big blowjob girl, but there is something about his cock that makes me want to suck it like a jawbreaker, because it is…a jawbreaker, that is.
“That was,” I glance at the clock and moan again, pulling the pillow over my head, “three hours ago.”
“I have meetings today, so I won’t be able to see you off.” He palms my breast while pressing a tender kiss to my neck.
“Well, you got me off for twelve continuous hours, so it seems only fair.”
“Our next stop is London. I won’t be stateside until after then, so I’ll see you there in a month.” The kiss he plants on my lips is short and sweet before he brushes his thumb along my lips and rolls away. “Get back to sleep. Your car is coming at noon.”
By the time I sit up to question him further, he’s already closed the door to the suite and is gone.
* * *
I don’t knowwhat I expected after Paris. I suppose I thought things would change between us. Maybe I thought I would feel less like an obligation. But when Parker has a stunning tennis bracelet delivered to me in my office in a pretty blue box accompanied by a note thanking me for an amazing weekend and reminding me to share it on Pictogram, I realize that I was delusional. Whatever conversations I expected to happen after Paris never happen because he practically disappears.
There are no texts from Parker. Just correspondence from Jacoby, notifying me of changing plans, and when the trip to London is canceled, I spend that weekend in my apartment eating ice cream over video chat with my sister.
My outbound texts to him have gone unanswered and I don’t know what went wrong.
Until the photos from his event in London start to appear and there is another woman on his arm. They look cozy, with his arm wrapped around her shoulders and a big grin on his face. When I see the picture of the two of them looking at one another in the same mooney-eyed pose he and I used at the gala we went to in New York, jealousy eats me alive.
Fine.
If he wants to ghost me, two can play this game. It is so immature of me, but I email Jacoby and tell him I’m unfortunately busy for the remaining events I’m supposed to attend. If Parker has a problem with me, he can tell me himself.
I stew in my emotions, leaving my apartment only to get more ice cream. When Jacoby finally emails me back, it’s to tell me I’m scheduled to see Parker on Wednesday.
Fine.
I can end this right.
* * *
I havea suitcase full of all the dresses and nonsense from this ill-mistaken venture ready for my meeting with Parker. Rather than text me himself, he has to set up an actual meeting through one of his many assistants.
When Jacoby sees me, he at least has the decency to look nervous.