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“Always. I’m a mom. Loving our kids is what we do.” She gave me another squeeze.
* * *
We didn’t talk much in the car. I drove and Parker texted—one of his friends, I assumed. I wondered what they thought of me. Well, everyone except Declan. I knew what he thought of me. The guy wanted me to die a fiery death, but the others didn’t seem as bad.
The air around us was stifling with tension, this heat in the air that filled my senses and felt like it wrapped a hand around my throat. What was Parker thinking about? The dancing? Something else? How most of the time he too wished I would die a fiery death?
“Well, that was quite the day,” I said to Parker when we stepped into the house.
“I really like them.” He pulled his jacket off and laid it over the back of an armchair. I didn’t mention that there were hooks for that, which was where my coat went. “Your parents are both gorgeous, and so kind. And I can’t get over all the food! Next time, I’m definitely bringing dessert. What do they like? I want to make something special.”
My fingers wrapped around his wrist, and I gently tugged Parker closer. “Shh. You’re rambling. You did so good today, Park.” I went off my instinct with that, this strange feeling inside me that said Parker needed to be validated. The way he relaxed against me some, I knew I was right.
“Do you really think they like me?”
“I know they do…maybe better than me. My parents don’t bullshit. I would have at least fifteen texts from Mom by now if they weren’t sure.” I tugged my phone out, and there was just one. I clicked on it and held the screen up for him.
Mom: I really do like him, El. You did good.
“See? You have them fooled. Should I tell them the truth now? That you never shower, that you pick your nose and keep me awake with your snoring?”
“I don’t snore.”
I cocked a brow. “But you do those other things?”
“Do they know how mean you are?”
“Oh, I’m going to tell her how mean you are to me…in Morse code. That I couldn’t admit how awful you are and I’m here because you’re blackmailing me.”
I pretended to type on my phone. Parker played along, trying to wrestle the cell from my hand. When I went backward, he moved forward, our feet somehow tangling, similarly to how they’d done while we were dancing, only this time, we were moving too fast and laughing too hard to catch ourselves.
I fell backward onto the couch, Parker half on top of me and half on the cushion, his face close to mine, our chests vibrating together with our chuckling.
My dick took notice of the fact that there was a beautiful man on top of me, so close that I could see flecks of what looked like sunshine in his blue eyes. Our laughter stopped, and neither of us moved. My arms were around him. It was like fighting the toughest battle of my life to keep from sliding my hand down to his ass, down his pants, to feel and touch him the way I’d wanted to for a fucking year now.
“Elliott…” Parker’s voice was husky with lust, shooting heat straight to my groin as his mouth slammed down on mine.
Finally, echoed through my head as I pushed my tongue into his mouth to taste him. We kissed like we were starving for it, like we couldn’t breathe without our lips attached to each other’s.
Parker climbed onto my lap, straddling me, my hands finding their home on his tight little ass, even if it was over his jeans. He held my face, took over the kiss, and I let him. Our teeth clanked together, and we laughed into each other’s mouths, making out like this was our one and only chance to have each other and we both intended to take advantage.
He ripped his mouth away from mine, and immediately went for my shirt, tugging it up. “God, I hate that I want you so much. This is such a fucking mistake.” I lifted my arms so he could easily remove my tee. Parker threw it, and I grabbed the back of his head and plunged my tongue between his lips again.
My hands traveled under his shirt, lifting it as I went. His skin was soft and hot, and just touching him made my cock throb even more. We pulled apart again so I could free him from the top I now had slightly tangled around his head.
“Oh my God, Elliott. Take it off.”
“I’m trying,” I said, laughing.
“Aren’t you supposed to be better at this?”
“I never thought it would happen. Cut me some slack.” Eventually, I got the damn thing free, then leaned in to flick my tongue over one of his pebbled nipples.
