Lost In Mr. Parks (Park #3) Read online

  “What?” The way Parks said that one word sent a shiver down my spine. It was unexplainable, but he was uneasy, then so was I. It was almost like I just swore at him, slapped him, or called him Parks to his face.

  “I take it you don’t have a cleaner?” I tried to joke to defuse the tension, even with the warmth draining from my face.

  “Someone tried to get into our apartment while we were away?” he growled, pushed me off his lap, climbed to his feet, and stormed out of the office. “Motherfuckers,” he roared.

  “Wade?” I ran after him and watched him bash the lift button with his fist. “Where are you going?”

  He ignored me, marched into the lift before the doors had fully opened, then punched the button again. I slipped through the doors just in time to go down with him.

  When the lift stopped on the reception floor, the doors opened and Parks steamrolled out, marching to the young man behind the desk.

  “You.” Parks pointed. “Give me your name.”

  The young man, dressed immaculately in a navy double-breasted waistcoat, quickly stood from the chair he was sitting on, practically shitting himself. “Mr. Parks, can I help you?”

  “Name?” he badgered.

  “Aron, sir.”

  “Aron, you’re fucking fired. Where the fuck is Riku?”

  I briefly wondered who Riku was, then I realised it must have been the older Japanese gentlemen that was normally at the reception desk.

  “He’s on vacation, sir.” Aron tugged at his tie, pulling it from around his neck like he was flustered. I felt sorry for him. And I never felt sorry for anyone.

  Parks slammed his fists on the desk. “Who was stationed at this desk while Miss Banks and I were away?”

  Aron swallowed, and my pity for him grew because I guessed his fate. “Me, sir,” he squeaked. “Is there a problem?”

  “Yes, there’s a fucking problem,” Parks barked, getting nearer to the young man’s face, making him take a small step back. “You allowed a woman into this building, up to my apartment, without so much as an identification check?”

  The poor man swallowed hard again, pursuing his lips, telling me his mouth had gone dry.

  “Wade, you’re intimidating him,” I said, my voice warning Mr. Incredible Hulk to leave him alone.

  “Good,” Parks snarled, glared at me, and then took his glower back to Aron. “Get me every piece of CCTV footage from last week. I want it in an hour. Then you can fuck off home and kiss your job good-bye.”

  “You can’t sack him,” I scoffed out of disbelief. “This building isn’t yours. You don’t own the people who work in it.”

  The look he gave me told me the building was exactly his and he could do with it what he pleased.

  “Sir, at least let me explain.”

  Myself and Parks stopped arguing about Aron’s future and turned to him.

  “I would, without a shadow of doubt, never have allowed anyone past this desk without your permission or without identification. It’s more than my job’s worth. I have a family of four to feed.”

  Oh bless him, I thought. I glanced over at Parks, raising my eyebrow.

  “Just get me the CCTV footage,” he barked, turning back to the lift.

  “Is he allowed to keep his job?” I asked quickly, rushing into the lift before the doors closed.

  “Fuck his job.” Parks ran frustrated hands through his hair. “Someone tried to get in, Evelyn. Don’t you understand the seriousness of this?”

  I threw my hands up by my sides in exasperation. “Maybe you’re overreacting. You don’t know it was someone trying to fuck with us. It could be someone else’s cleaner, who got the wrong door number.”

  Parks took my cheeks into his palms firmly. “Evelyn, there isn’t another door on my floor. If you haven’t noticed, you have to have a code or a key card to get to my floor. Where the fuck would any old cleaner get one of those?” The doors pinged open, and Parks took his hands from my face, then allowed me to walk out first.

  Something I’d forgotten about suddenly dawned on me. “I lost my key card.” As soon as the words key card left my lips, I ran past Parks and darted up the spiral stairs.

  Parks demanded I stay put, but I didn’t stop until I was standing in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Tell me where you lost it?”

  A laugh fell from my lips. “If I knew that, it wouldn’t be lost, would it?”

  Parks shook his head slowly. “Don’t fuck me with. Where. Did. You. Lose. It?”

  “I. Don’t. Know.” I gritted my teeth. “All I know is that I was looking for it in my bag and I couldn’t find it. I’ve also lost my keys to Steph’s.” The colour slowly drained from my face. “The key to my parents’ flat is on that set of keys too.”

  “Before or after we left for Australia?” he demanded quickly.

  “Before,” I said slowly, quite unsure.

  “What’s all this fuss?”

  I swung around to see Harriet walking into the room, a scowl etched on her forehead.

  “Mother.” Parks was cold to her, as usual. “Ask Abigail’s nanny for a description of the cleaner she turned away.”

  Harriet was bemused. “Why? Is everything okay?”

  “He doesn’t have a cleaner,” I informed her, taking the situation lighter than Parks was.

  “We, Evelyn, we don’t have a cleaner.”

  I rolled my eyes, but Harriet seemed to treat it with the same seriousness as Parks did. “What? Someone tried to get in here unnoticed?”

  “No fucking shit,” Parks snapped, shoved his hand into his suit trousers, and brought out his phone. All I heard was, “Nixon,” and Parks disappeared upstairs.

  “I’m sorry he spoke to you like that.” I frowned after him, then gestured to the barstools. “Let me make us something to eat.”

  “Are you not worried, Evey?” Harriet elegantly slipped onto the barstool, and it made her look extremely awkward. She was too classy to sit on a barstool.

  “Yes.” I sighed, opening up the fridge. “But I’m just glad no one was hurt. I’ll try talking to Wade when he’s calmed down.”

  “Doesn’t look like he will be joining us for dinner.”

  I closed the fridge door and turned to Harriet. Her eyes were down, focusing on her bracelet. I hurt for her. Hurt for the way she desperately tried to have a relationship with her son, but he didn’t want to know her.

  “You know,” I said softly and slipped my backside onto the barstool next to Harriet, “Wade doesn’t realise how lucky he is to have a parent fight for him. Fight to have a relationship.” It was my turn to drop my gaze, and I focused on the fruit bowl in the middle of the kitchen island. “I would do anything to see my parents fight for me. Even want to say, ‘Hi, how are you?’ once in a while.” I looked back up. “Sure you made a mistake, but doesn’t everyone? And doesn’t everyone deserve second chances?”

  Harriet’s eyes grew soft, her blues looking deep into my ambers as she rested her palm on top of my hand. Surprisingly, I didn’t pull away from the contact.

  “How many chances have you given your parents, Evey?”

  I stared at her hand, warm and reassuring on mine. “More than they deserve.”

  Any fool could tell Harriet had a ridiculous amount of passion. She was full of wisdom, advice, care, and warmth. She was willing to help anyone who needed it. Whether their needs were major or minor.

  “Have you told them you’re getting married?”

  I scoffed and bit my lip to supress any emotion before answering. “Your mother is the first person you should tell, isn’t it?” I looked down into my lap. “It’s what normal brides do. Share the news with their mum. Go dress shopping with their mum. Cry happy tears with their mum.” Out of disgust, I shook my head. “My mother doesn’t even know I’m alive half the time. But you know—” I wiped a stupid stray tear from the corner of my eye, “—that still doesn’t stop me from trying to get her to see me.”

  “Oh, sweetie.”
Harriet was about to rise, her arms open for a hug. I would have welcomed it, because I was turning into an emotional sap, but Abigail came into the room, her sweet, small voice grabbing our attention.

  “Gran?”

  I wiped at my tears before the little blonde, beautiful girl could catch me crying. Then I recognised she’d called Harriet Gran. Had they explained about her mother?

  “I’m starving.” She grinned, skipping her way towards us. She was stunning. Blonde, flowing locks. Striking blue eyes. Pale skin. And all the sweetness of candyfloss.

  “Evey was going to cook for us, but I think we should call for takeout.” Harriet winked. “Just this once.”

  By the look of delight in Abigail’s expression, a takeout was never what they did.

  “Evey and Wade too?”

  I smiled. “Sure, although Wade’s grumpy. He can stay in his room.”

  She laughed, skipped over to the sofa, and plonked down onto it so she could flick through the TV channels.

  The three of us had Chinese and watched half of Abigail’s favourite film, Black Beauty. Such a grown-up choice of film for a girl her age. I loved it.

  When I was clearing away the plates, I happened to glance over at Harriet, stroking a sleeping Abigail’s hair as the little girl’s head rested in her lap. My heart tightened; the image was both heartwarming and upsetting. I missed that close and protective bond with my grandmother dearly.

  Harriet took Abigail to bed, then came back down to the kitchen, where I was cleaning up.

  “I’m heading to bed. Do you mind?”

  Harriet surprised me and kissed me upon my forehead. “Not at all. You go get some rest.”

  I took two steps forwards, then stopped. “Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked her.

  “I just keep telling myself to smile, because one day, life will get tired of dragging me down.” She nodded stiffly, turning to the windows to glance out at the dark London night. She left me with a heavy heart when I turned and headed to bed.

  I reached the bedroom, pushed open the door, and saw Parks sitting on the edge of the bed, naked. His bare back was to me, and he was showing off all those sexy muscles. It made me want to kiss each one. The curtains were open, showing a view of the black night, raindrops on the windows. James Bay’s “Scars” was playing quietly from somewhere, and I smiled, because it was a song I told him I liked when we were in Australia.

  I sucked in a breath, stripped down to my knickers, and headed towards him. He didn’t take his head of out his hands when he clearly felt the bed dip as I climbed on, but I didn’t care.

  “Did you watch the CCTV?” I planted a delicate kiss on his bare shoulder.

  “Hmm,” he mumbled, half in satisfaction from the touch of my lips. “The bitch was wearing a hoodie. Couldn’t see her face. What I saw in the garage was interesting, though.”

  I tried not to still, tried keeping my breathing at ease. I didn’t want to let him know I was worried someone might have tried breaking in to cause damage. Why would anyone want to do that? Maybe an ex—“hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” and all that.

  “What happened in the garage?” I questioned.

  Parks grabbed hold of his laptop that was open on the floor, placed it on his lap, and clicked on the Play button. On the screen, I saw the underground garage. Next I saw a guy around six feet tall with a stocky build, wearing a hoodie, walking towards Cleaver’s Jaguar. He bent down and disappeared under the car for some time. When he got back up, his hood came off. He had long, dark hair, and I could see a green tattoo of a snake down his neck.

  “What did he just do?” I frowned.

  Parks slammed the lid down. “Cut the brakes on the car.”

  The colour in my cheeks drained. “What? Is Cleaver okay?”

  He rubbed his face, exasperated. “He hadn’t driven the car since it happened. Thank fuck.”

  I spread my hands out across his back, tracing his muscles with my fingertips. I moved them onto his broad shoulders and began to massage him slowly. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” I needed to know everything about what went on inside his head. I couldn’t stand being in the dark and hated him keeping things from me, but then I didn’t want to push him into telling me, either. I couldn’t win.

  His sigh was ragged, but he kept his head down, still revelling in my massage. “We barely get an hour without someone trying to fuck up what we have.” His body was stiff, his shoulders not allowing any tension to be relieved under my working hands.

  He was right. It did seem like every time we were happy, something came along and fucked it up. But I was never surprised because it had happened to me my whole life.

  I leaned over and kissed him, but his body still didn’t relax. I felt it within his kisses, felt it from the way he squeezed my thighs and my backside so hard it made me breathless. My body was on fire, heating up from the inside out, and we were only kissing at that point, kissing and feeling. Savouring and tasting.

  “You know what to do to make me forget, Princess,” Parks huskily breathed into my ear as he pulled at the side of my knickers until they snapped. He slipped them off me effortlessly, then shifted. When he sat back down with me in his lap, I moaned as my sex rested against his erection.

  “God…yes, I do.” I was already wet, but I moved my sex along his cock, just to take advantage of how wet he could make me.

  “Hmm,” Parks moaned gruffly, taking hold of my hips and helping me slide up and down his hardness. I knew I was going to come from the action alone. My body tightened, and my hips moved faster.

  “Going to come, Princess?” Parks grinned and bit the side of his lip as I held on to his shoulders for support. I came fast and hard. Parks slid his lips down my neck, so I arched back, pushing my breasts out, and he licked across a nipple.

  “Sorry,” I breathed out after getting my breath back. “I’m meant to be making you forget.”

  He smirked, kissing across my breasts. “Seeing you come does make me forget.”

  “How about I make you come.” I pulled at his hair so I could look into his eyes.

  “Then you better slide my dick into your sweetness, or mouth, or between these beauties.” He grabbed hold of my tits, staring at them in awe.

  I pushed him back onto the bed, falling with him. My palms were at either side of his head, my hair making a curtain around his face.

  “I think I want you inside me,” I whispered breathlessly, dipping down to stroke my tongue across his lips.

  “Inside where?” he teased, a sexy-as-hell rasp to his voice. His green eyes scanned my face, and I could feel the heat in my cheeks. His amorous gaze made me blush. How could he still make me blush?

  I rocked my hips, slid myself against his rock-hard shaft again, and whimpered as my clit brushed against the wide head of his crown. “Inside my sweetness.” I cringed inwardly. I’d become accustomed to talking dirty with Parks, because he was so incredibly sexy at it, and he loved me doing it too. But it still felt weird when I referred to my vagina as my sweetness. Something he loved to call it.

  “Oh?” He bucked his hips, making me gasp again, then he grabbed hold of the back of my head, fisted a handful of hair, and pulled me closer. He kissed me deeply, almost violently. It had my toes curling, my body needing. Then he pulled away and let my hair go and said, “Then you better get on with it.”

  A smirk rose across my lips. I loved, no, I adored it when he was dominating, demanding, and a sexy-as-sin alpha. I bent down to suck on his neck, giving it a little nibble.

  “Keep your hair on, Parks, let me do this my way.”

  I received a quick and hard slap across my backside, making me bolt upright in shock.

  “Do not call me Parks,” he demanded.

  I flared my nostrils. “You want rough, Wade?” I placed my hands on his chest. “Then I can certainly do that for you.” I lifted my knuckles, and like Cat Woman, I dug my nails hard into his pecs, then dragged them down his chest, marking his skin as
I did.

  “Hmm, harder.” He knew his mocking grin only excited me and dared me to do just that. I shifted, taking his cock into my palm, and slowly guided the tip into me. I gasped as I slid down an inch but stopped to gaze into Parks’s eyes. They flared with eager desire.

  “Take another inch, Evelyn,” he commanded.

  “Will it make you forget if I do?” I hoped.

  “Already forgotten,” he said in an impatient tone. “Now take all of me.”

  Without having to tell me twice, I arched my back and slid down his length. All of it. I tilted my head back as I let out a low moan, and grabbed his shins for support. But Parks couldn’t help himself; he had to touch me. He could never keep his hands off me for long. Thank the Lord.

  I groaned at the feel of his mouth against my neck, then I swivelled my hips, circling slowly on his cock. The feel of him inside me sent a shiver down my spine. It was more than sex, it was intimacy on a deep and loving level.

  I wanted to savour him, have him slow and my way. As I rocked, I kissed lovingly across his shoulder, and he moved his hands across my arse and up my back. He took a handful of my hair and pulled back from my head, giving him easy access to lick across my throat.

  “Hmm, Princess. Don’t stop moving, baby.”

  I kept moving, kissing softly and lazily, and magically getting lost in our world. Holding on to the back of Parks’s head, I pulled at his hair and slowly rode out my orgasm until I was wrung dry. He flipped me over onto my side and slid himself behind me, throwing a leg over my waist as he entered me deliciously. He made me turn my head so he could seek my lips, and as we kissed, lapping soft tongues over each other’s, he moved in and out of me. Leisurely.

  “I’m so afraid of someone fucking this up, Princess,” he whispered raggedly.

  I moved with him, pushing my hips back as he thrust forwards, his penetration getting deliciously deeper. “They won’t,” I reassured him before nipping his bottom lip. “As long as you keep me informed of what’s going on in your head, we will be fi—hmm.” My words were cut off as he thrust hard.

  “As long as I get to hear you moan like this,” he said, thrusting hard and quick again, “I’ll tell you anything.” He growled his hunger as he pounded into me, once again taking my thing and turning it into his. When it made my body melt, my mind forget, and orgasms shoot through the roof, I didn’t damn well care. He could have it.