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My phone burns in my pocket against my leg as I think of Parker’s text. Tony never explicitly said I couldn’t do something like that, but I think it’s pretty obvious. It’s a quiet defiance I can never let him know about.
Tony pats the space beside him on the bed. “Come here.”
I keep my expression neutral even as anger bubbles under my skin. I sit next to him, hating the heat from his thigh pressed against mine. His hand rests on my knee, and I resist the urge to fidget. Tony already reads me better than most people.
“You know what my favorite thing about you is?” Tony pauses and laughs. “Besides your ass, I mean.”
I shake my head because I don’t trust myself to speak.
“I never have to worry about you leaving me.”
I swallow everything else that tries to come out of my mouth. And I give him a small smile. “Of course not.” I may fantasize about getting out, but I never will. As long as Jack is in danger, I have to stay. He has a guy named Mike watching Jack. And I’ve met Mike before. He’s definitely loyal enough to Tony to carry out an order.
His hand tightens for a second around my knee before releasing it. “Get out of here.”
“Yes, sir.” I push up from the bed and leave his house as quickly as I can without running. Only when I’m a few blocks away do I pause to take a breath. I always hate seeing Tony because he makes me feel even worse than I normally do. I should just be grateful that I’m no longer stuck with him in the cabin he took me to when he first started training me. Back then, it was just the two of us. I stayed handcuffed to the bed for three months. It’s been painstakingly hard, but I’ve earned this small bit of freedom from him over the years.
I lean my back against the side of a bakery building and pull my phone from my pocket. I should cancel on Parker. Is going to see him really worth the risk of pissing Tony off? It could set me back so far in terms of the short leash he has me on.
But then I think of that tentative kiss he gave me last night. How uncertain he was at first before his fingers dug into my hips and I could feel his cock pressing against me. He’d wanted me, but he hadn’t taken me. Even though he’d paid for me. No one’s ever done that before either.
One date isn’t going to hurt anything.
***
When I get to the address Parker provided me, I almost turn and leave. It’s just so…nice. I’ve been to lots of nice places, but Parker’s in one of the most sought-after apartment buildings in San Francisco. I couldn’t imagine renting an apartment here.
But I take a deep breath and text Parker to let him know I’m outside. He lets me in immediately. I walk past the front desk and over thick, lush carpeting to reach the elevator. Parker lives on the tenth floor, and my stomach is jumping the whole ride up.
When the elevator stops and the doors open, I find Parker waiting for me. He’s dressed less formally in jeans and a sweater.
He frowns as soon as I reach him. “It’s like forty degrees outside. Where’s your jacket?”
“Oh, um, I left it at home.” I don’t want to admit that I don’t really have one. “I didn’t think it’d be this chilly.”
“Come on, you can borrow something of mine.” Parker leads me around the corner to his apartment and unlocks the door. When we step inside, I’m not surprised at the sheer size of the apartment. It’s what they’re paying for. But I am surprised by how…minimal it is. Usually when I’m with someone who has a lot of money, they like to show that they have a lot of money.
Even if the place isn’t flashing with gold at every turn, there’s still usually antique furniture or beautiful paintings. Crystal chandeliers and the most expensive wine in the world.
Parker’s place isn’t like that at all. His couch looks like it came from Ikea, and his television is a regular size, sitting on an entertainment stand that could’ve come from any furniture store in the area.
It smells amazing in here though. Like an Italian restaurant. I can hear something bubbling on the stove as we pass the kitchen, but Parker doesn’t slow down.
He disappears into his bedroom for a second before reemerging with a blue sweater. “Here. That should help with the chill.”
“Thank you.” I take it from him and slide it on over my head. It’s soft and comfortable and warm, and it smells like Parker. I wish I could take it with me when I leave.
“I hope you’re okay with staying in tonight,” Parker says as he leads me back to the kitchen. “I-I feel like I should’ve taken you somewhere.”
I shake my head before he’s even finished talking. “No, this is great. I haven’t had anyone cook for me in a really long time. What is it? It smells amazing.”
“Pasta alla Norma,” he replies, moving a pot from the stove before reaching into a cabinet for plates.
“Sounds fancy.”
He laughs. “It’s actually really easy to make. I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it.” My skin feels warm and unfamiliar. I feel out of sorts standing in this guy’s kitchen, watching as he sets the food on the table and dishes me out some. The last time anyone did that for me, I was still living at home with my family.
