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Typically, we would call in a crew of corps to clean up shit like that, but I knew they were busy dealing with Uncle Dean and that mess. So Hendrick and I decided to take care of shit ourselves, but it’d been so fucking long since I’d cleaned a damn thing that it took for fucking ever.
Then, we had to have a meeting with Dad, giving him details and confirmation that she was gone. My next step would have been to come here, but I couldn’t just walk away from Coleman, who looked like he’d seen a fucking ghost. He was white as shit.
None of this can I tell Parker. So, I leave it atI had a shit nightand refuse to say much else. Parker sets her computer and phone down on the floor beside her chair and stands. She closes the distance between us, just a few steps and starts to make a move to sit beside me, but I reach out and grab hold of her hips, gripping her there and stopping her.
She’s wearing another one of her silky shorts-and-tank-top sets. I don’t know how many of these she owns, but I would be more than happy to supply a lifetime of them.
“Strip.”
My word comes out just as I intend it. A demand. Releasing my grasp from her, I place my palms on my knees and wait. Her eyes widen, then she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and scrapes it across as she does when she’s anxious or nervous.
I don’t say a word. I’m not here to comfort or coddle her. That isn’t what she needs right now. I watch her fingers slide across the hem of her tank, and then she slowly lifts it up her body and bares her tits for me.
Fucking hell, it hasn’t even been that many hours, but I’d almost forgotten how fucking amazing they are. My fingers itch to touch them, to feel their weight in my hands, to slide my thumbs across her nipples. To taste her.
She slips her thumbs into the waist of her shorts and slides them down her legs until they pool at her feet. As she stands in front of me, completely naked, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to walk away from her.
There’s something about her that draws me in. It’s not just the fact that I followed her. It’s not the fact that I was the first to have her. It’s a little bit of everything that makes her a whole… mine.
“Free me,” I demand, my voice gruffer than I expected.
Her eyes widen before they flick down to my hips, then slowly lift to meet mine again. “Wells?” she asks softly.
“Want your pretty mouth on me, cupcake.”
“I’ve… never…” She exhales.
My lips twitch into a smirk. “Yeah, I got that. No better time to try.”
Slowly, she does as she’s told and reaches forward, unbuckling and unzipping my pants. Lifting my hips, I give her room to pull them down my legs. She takes them completely off, along with my socks. Reaching a hand between my shoulders, I tug my shirt off and toss it on the floor.
“On your knees.”
Parker sinks down to her knees, but she has her head tipped down, and I chuckle as I reach out my finger and place it beneath her chin, gently forcing her head backward slightly so I can look into her eyes.
“Unless I tell you that I don’t want to see your eyes, do not look away from me. I want your eyes, Parker.”
Her breath hitches before she asks me why. Typically, I wouldn’t explain shit to a woman I’m fucking, but since I don’t really fuck them more than once, and this is my third time with Parker, this is a different situation.
“Wells,” she breathes.
I love it when she says my name like that. I also love the fact that she’s essentially breathless in this moment. Releasing my finger from beneath her chin, I use my thumb across her bottom lip and tug her mouth open slightly.
“Suck my cock, cupcake.”
ChapterTwenty-Three
PARKER
When I feelribbons of his cum slide down the center of my chest, I know it should probably not make me feel powerful, but that is exactly what it does. I’ve never imagined this act could make the woman feel dominant, but that’s how I feel.
Somewhere in the middle of the act, watching Wells while I moved up and down on his length, he tangled his fingers in my hair, and he hasn’t let go. His eyes have darkened. They’re no longer coffee-colored but now a deep dark chocolate as he breathes heavily through clenched teeth.
He lifts his free hand and places his palm in the center of my chest, where his cum drips down and wipes it. No… he rubs it into my skin as his nostrils flare and his gaze follows his movements. He doesn’t speak, and I’m too enamored by everything about him and taking in this new experience to say a single word.
Wells’s grip on my hair tightens, and he tugs upward. I straighten my knees, standing in front of him, between his legs, his cum drying on my skin and completely confused about what happens next.
Does this mean the sex is done? He got there, so that’s it, right? I don’t ask those questions, but they’re running through my mind on a loop. Wells releases his grasp on my hair and moves it to my hips, and with both hands, he grips me and guides me closer to him.
