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“Good thing practice makes perfect,” he told her before kissing her.
*
PARKER STARED AT HIMSELFin the bathroom mirror.
What the fuck did I just do?
When he'd said that he didn't want to do something they'd both regret, what he'd meant was he was trying to think rationally for the both of them. Paige usually went into situations full steam ahead, no thoughts for the consequences. Hence why his jaw was aching and he had a lump on the back of his head – he'd tried to stop that fight. She'd kept on pushing.
But trying to stop what had begun between them that evening had been like trying to stop a freight train. It was a chain reaction, an explosion. After they'd run from the fight, something had snapped in his brain. Staring at her on the street, trying to catch his breath and count his teeth with his tongue.
He'd beenso angry. At himself, at the guy in the bar, but mostly at her. She showed no interest in him, but she got jealous over some stupid girl!? He'd wanted to tell her that it was over, that he would be heading home the next day, that he couldn't handle them anymore
When he'd thought about actually saying all that out loud, though, he couldn't bear the idea of letting her go – at least not without kissing her, just once.
But the moment his lips touched hers, he knew once wouldn't be enough. Kissing her had felt like coming home after a long vacation. Like finally getting to eat his favorite meal after not having it for a long time. He instantly wanted seconds. He wantedallof her.
And shockingly enough, it had seemed like she'd actually felt the same way. And then later, seeing her mostly naked in front of him, he couldn't have stopped if he'd wanted to. His body wouldn't let him. He'd wanted her forso long.
He put his hands on the counter and leaned over the sink. "We'll still be friends", she'd promised. What exactly did that mean? Hey, let's just get this out of our system and go back to just pals? Hey, let's just be fuck buddies? Hey, let's just do this till Paige decides she's tired of it?
None of those options appealed to him. He wanted all of her. He didn't want to let her go. But he had to go home at some point, and he just knew Paige wasn't about to ride off into a sunset with him and settle down.
But holy damn, finally getting to touch her, kiss her. Getting to see her naked and be inside of her. He'd always assumed it wouldn't happen. It was better than anything he'd imagined. She'd been so wild, and uninhibited. She'd made him feel like he could do anything he wanted to her, and there were lots of things he wanted to do to her. Just remembering the crazy sounds she'd made had him halfway hard again.
Cool it, Casanova.
He heard a flush from the other side of the wall and realized Paige must have gone to use her own bathroom. He had been in his for awhile. He went and used the toilet, cleaned himself up, washed his hands. He gave himself a last look before deciding he needed to go back out there and have a talk with her.
But she wasn't in his room. Her bra lay in the middle of the bed, her skirt on the floor. His mouth went dry. Was she naked, waiting in her room? But a glance to his left showed she was outside, leaning against the terrace railing. Sadly, not naked. She had on his bright pink hoodie, which stopped just past her butt. The hood was pulled up and over her head. He smiled and stepped outside, walking up next to her.
"What are you doing?" he asked, bracing his forearms against the railing and leaning forward so he could see her face. She glanced at him, smiling as well.
"Just cooling off. You were gone a long time," she said. He nodded, looking around. He spied his cigarettes on a table nearby and grabbed one.
"Yeah, got distracted," he mumbled, lighting the cigarette. She laughed.
"In the bathroom? Do I want to know?" she joked. He playfully glared at her, leaning his back to the railing.
Parker had been all gung-ho to talk when he'd come out on the terrace. Now that he was standing next to her, though, knowing she was wearing nothing under his hoodie, he was having trouble concentrating. She had the most amazing breasts, and he wanted to smack himself for not ripping her bra off when he'd had the chance earlier.
For a few minutes, he just watched her while she watched the ocean. The wind had calmed down and there hadn't been any lightning for a while. Still, she seemed kind of tense. He moved to stand behind her and, careful of his cigarette, reached his arms around either side of her, pinning her in between him and the railing. She stiffened up. He frowned but didn't let it deter him – if she could let him see her naked and touch her, then she could handle a little closeness.
“Paige,” he said softly.
“What?” she replied, turning her head towards him a little, causing the hood to drop back from her head.
He took his free hand and placed his fingertips at the base of her neck. He massaged lightly for a second, then ran his fingers over the hood and down her spine, before pressing his hand flat on her lower back. She shivered and he slid his hand around her hip and onto her stomach, gently pushing her back against him. He pressed his lips against her ear.
"From now on, I get to touch you whenever I want," he informed her. She shivered again.
"You had better want to do it often."
He chuckled.
“Now, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked. She was silent for a moment.
“Nothing,” she responded, her voice low. He lifted his cigarette to his lips and took a drag, leaning back and blowing the smoke in a stream over her head.
