His body is firm with muscle but so sensitive to touch that he moans and bites my neck when I squeeze his ass, when I trace his spine, when I tug on his hair.
“If you keep doing that, I won’t last long,” he growls at me, but the sound isn’t unpleasant. Instead, the feel of his lips against my ear makes me moan, and I’m pulling him to me, encouraging him to rock hard against me, bury himself deep. The bed is creaking, but I can still hear that damn song playing in the distance, drowning out any suspicious sounds.
Later, I’ll learn that Chasm was waiting there, just outside the door. That he eventually pushed off the wall and went downstairs, that he jumped into the pool with all his clothes on.
But in that moment, even if I knew that, I’d still have stayed.
Because love is a double-edged sword, and Parrish was my blade against everything in my life that wasn’t going the way I wanted it to.
“Dakota,” he breathes, kissing me hard and deep, biting my lower lip. His body is like a storm, striking me, lighting me up. I want more. I want to live in the storm forever.
With a deep, guttural groan, he drives himself into me with more force than before, pushing even deeper. The sensation makes me cry out with pleasure as I grab his hair and pull, and he shudders against me, coming so hard that his entire body trembles above me before collapsing.
The weight of him is soothing; the heat of him is electrifying.
“Don’t move,” I murmur when he goes to roll off. “Not yet.”
We stay as we are for a minute more before he pulls out and disposes of the condom, taking me into his arms and tucking my head beneath his chin. Neither of us speaks for some time, and I’m about to drift off to sleep when his hand slides down my side and cups my ass, giving it a little squeeze.
“Again?” Parrish murmurs, and a smile curves my lips.
“Again.”
And so it goes until the sun sets and the stars come out—both the ones in the sky that twinkle like diamonds as well as the ones above our heads, casting a greenish glow across the bedroom’s ceiling.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Parrish says, leaning in the doorway of his bedroom like he’s done a million times before. This time though, it all seems shiny and new, like we’ve transcended into another world together.
I smile, and I know I’ve probably got that disgusting lovey-dovey couple face on, the one that everyone wants to make but nobody wants to see. Just like Maxine, I think, and then for the briefest of instances, I see Maxx in my head and shake the thought away.
“I wish I didn’t have to go either,” I reply, leaning in my own doorway. We’re about three feet apart, but it somehow feels like leagues. I already miss the feel of his skin against mine. Parrish has his right elbow pressed against the doorjamb, his face against his fist. He’s smiling at me, too, which is such a crazy thing to see. The guy never smiles. That’s why I hate him. Or … hated, in the past tense?
“If it weren’t so risky, I’d have you stay with me,” he continues, sighing and then sliding his left hand over his face. “But she can’t find out like that. It has to be planned.”
“Planned?” I query back, because I can’t quite believe I’m hearing this right. “You want to tell her?”
Parrish drops his hand by his side and gives me a look that’s much more akin to his usual foppish rich boy persona. It very clearly says duh, what else did you think we were going to do?
“You deserve to be more than just a secret, Dakota.”
Whoa. I feel like my heart’s about to explode. It’s beating so fast that I feel dizzy for a second there.
You deserve to be more than just a secret.
Fuck.
The guy knows how to charm a girl, doesn’t he? I mean, you wouldn’t know it since he’s an arrogant dick most of the time …
“When?” I ask as Parrish turns to glance down the hall at Tess’ office door. It’s been like eight hours since our fight and Mr. Brightside is still playing. I get it though. That’s how I roll. I once listened to Ashnikko—I know, I know, I’m a fangirl—on repeat for like two weeks straight.
“Soon. Let’s just … feel her out, wait for a good mood.” He glances back at me, but his expression isn’t playful or cute anymore. It’s dead serious. “You should try to find some common ground with her. I know you can’t just forgive her for what she wrote—especially if she’s planning on publishing it—but you can’t fight with her for two years straight either.”
“You mean one year, nine months, and thirteen days,” I correct, and Parrish gives me a warning look. “But yeah, I see what you’re saying.”
“We’ll tell her together,” he announces, exhaling sharply. I guess when he said, ‘I’ve made my decision’, he was … choosing me? “Fuck, maybe we should just get it out of the way and do it tomorrow?”
“You know her best,” I tell him, and he takes it like a compliment, nodding in agreement. I bite my lower lip and then scurry across the hall for one, last kiss, throwing my arms around his neck and teasing his tongue with my own. We kiss for quite a while, and things start to heat up all over again.
“Get out of here, Gamer Girl,” he purrs at me, putting his hands on my hips and forcibly putting some space between us. The move seems to pain him which I like. “Get some sleep.”
The way Parrish looks at me, I almost wonder if he’s going to say something else. He seems to change his mind at the last minute, offering up a saucy smile before he steps back and closes his bedroom door in my face for what better be old times’ sake.
“You’re an asshole,” I grumble, but I’m smiling, too, as I head back into my room, tripping over my stupid book bag and nearly falling flat on my face. I kick it to the side before I notice a vase full of flowers on my nightstand.
They’re beautiful, this gorgeous bouquet of sunflowers that makes me smile when I brush my fingers over the yellow petals. The smile slides off my face when I realize that, in order to get these flowers in here, someone would’ve had to come down the hall and put them there.
If it were Tess, she would’ve surely knocked on Parrish’s door to look for me. It can’t have possibly been Paul, Kimber, or any of the kids, obviously. So … “Chasm.”
I breathe his name and close my eyes tight against a rush of pain.
He brought me flowers?
I can’t seem to wrap my mind around it, even as I set my Tess-phone up on the tripod, climb under the covers and curl up on my side. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow, I promise myself, and then my mind is inevitably drawn back to memories of Parrish.
No matter what Tess says, no matter what she does, I’ll never regret spending the night with him.
Never.
That is … until I find out that he’s been kidnapped because of it.
“Thought you might like to know that Lumen is finally home,” Tess says when I come downstairs the next morning, dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, like the clothes can somehow prevent her from knowing about me and Parrish until we’re both ready to talk. I just stare at her back; she’s standing in front of the espresso machine, so I’m not sure she knows who, exactly, it is that she’s talking to, me or Parrish.