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My pulse skyrockets, and I clench the sheets tighter as my other hand works furiously between my thighs. Each stroke brings me closer to the edge. The thin line between reality and fantasy blurs until there’s nothing but him: his touch, his scent, his voice.
In the depths of my imagination, Parker lifts his gaze to meet mine as he dips his head lower. His tongue flicks against the most sensitive part of me, and I shudder violently at the sensation. My climax is imminent now, a coiled spring waiting to be released.
My fingers delve deeper, matching the urgent rhythm of Parker in my mind. His name slips past my lips like a prayer just as the wave crashes over me and my back arches off the bed. My fingers slow their pace as a series of tremors wrack through me, each one stealing my breath away.
When the waves finally recede, I’m left lying in my bed panting and drenched in sweat. Reality begins to seep back in, pushing away the intoxicating fantasy of Parker. The absence of his touch, his voice, and his kiss hits me like a punch to the gut. I wish he was here with me, but instead, I am alone.
I wipe the dampness from my forehead with the back of my hand and try to steady my erratic heartbeat. My hands are shaking from the intensity of it all. From the intensity of him.
Sighing, I curl onto my side and pull my blanket up to my chin, suddenly feeling the chill of the room creep into my heated skin. The memory of Parker and our brief encounter drifts through my mind again like a sweet torment.
My thoughts cling stubbornly to him, not allowing me to drift into sleep. I lie awake staring at the ceiling as Parker continues to haunt me.
Drawing in a deep breath, I reach out and switch on the low, warm light of my bedside lamp. My fingers trace over the petals of the roses he left behind. It was such a sweet gesture that it makes my heart clench.
With a sigh, I let myself drift further into the labyrinth of fantasy and yearning. My thoughts are still filled with him. His eyes watching me from under long lashes, his firm lips whispering sweet words against my ear, his strong arms pulling me closer against his chest. Each thought sends another wave of heat rushing through my veins.
I imagine him caressing my hair away from my face, tracing a path down my neck with soft kisses. His lips would find mine again, and we’d lose ourselves in each other.
Just the idea of him hovering over me again sends an anticipatory shiver down my spine. My body tingles at the mere thought of having him close once more, to feel his skin against mine, to taste him…
An involuntary whimper escapes my lips as I picture him trailing a path lower down my body, his fingers moving deftly over my thigh while he smirks up at me devilishly. I stop myself from letting the image go any further, though. I need to sleep. I can’t just spend the whole night fantasizing about Parker and touching myself over and over. In the end, I know I won’t be fully satisfied because I need him so badly.
I pull the blanket tighter around me, the chill no longer imaginary but real. Even though my body still hums with the remnants of my orgasm, my body still aches for more.
Chapter sixteen
Parker
Aweek passes, and the day Bethany is supposed to arrive comes all too soon. Lauren and I go to our parents’ house, though a part of me wants to skip the whole ordeal and leave them all to their reunion. I’m simply not interested.
To my consternation, Lauren invites Chloe to come along with us. Not that I don’t appreciate her presence, but I don’t know why she needs to get tangled up in this whole mess. It’s not her drama to deal with.
The house is filled with unfamiliar sounds; the clanking of dishes, hushed whispers, nervous laughter. It feels like a gathering for a funeral rather than a welcome home party. The air is thick with tension and anticipation. My mother, ever the gracious hostess, rushes around the kitchen with a manic look in her eyes. My father sits silently with his newspaper, feigning interest.
How can he be okay with this? Mom, I can kind of understand, but Dad? After Bethany nearly ruined everything that he’s built?
Lauren catches my eye from across the dining room and rolls hers. Chloe is standing next to her, and I can tell she’s confused. Of course, she is…she has no idea what really went down between Bethany and my family. She knows I haven’t spoken to my twin in years, but I’m sure the thick tension hanging in the air is throwing her off. I’m sure she’d rather be anywhere but in the middle of my family drama, and seeing as how I feel the exact same way, I can’t say that I blame her.
Needing to do something to stay busy, I push off from the wall I’ve been leaning against and make my way to the liquor cabinet.
“Isn’t it too early to start drinking?” Lauren asks after appearing at my side. She picks up a bottle of whiskey and examines it critically.
“Given the circumstances, we should already be drunk,” I reply, then pour myself a generous glass of the whiskey.
She snorts, a sound that holds more truth than humor. Filling her own glass, she clinks it against mine. She then turns to Chloe.
“You want one, too?” she asks.
Chloe nods, looking almost relieved at having something to do. “Yeah, thanks.”
Lauren pours Chloe a drink and hands it to her before holding up her glass as if in a toast.
“To surviving the day,” my sister says, and I can only nod in agreement.
We all take long sips of our whiskeys, and I relish the burn as it travels down my throat and into my belly.
“So,” Chloe begins cautiously, “anyone going to tell me what exactly is going on here?”
