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

  “Evey.”

  I groaned as Steph knocked on my bedroom door, then came skipping into the room. I pulled the duvet over my head.

  “I’m going food shopping. You want anything?”

  I opened my eyes, the mention of food waking me up a little. Pushing the duvet from my body, I sat up in bed and stretched.

  “Could you get me Nutella? Like the big pot so I can eat it with a spoon? Some cookie-dough ice cream, scotch pancakes, and could you get me a bottle of honey?” Steph recoiled just slightly, blinking at my odd list, but I wasn’t done. “Could you also get me some Marmite and—?”

  “Marmite? Evey, you hate Marmite.”

  “But I want some now. Could you also get me some watermelon juice?”

  “Watermelon?” Steph toyed with the word slowly.

  “Yeah, you know, the beach-ball-sized, green thing that’s red inside?”

  “I know what it is, Evey. It’s just an odd combination.” She stared at me sceptically, her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to work something out.

  “What?” I gaped.

  “Nothing.” She flapped her hand and turned her back on me. “I won’t be long.” I thought she was going, but she stopped in the doorway again. “Oh, Evey, why are your ripped jeans in the bin?”

  Groaning, I pulled the duvet back over my head. “They don’t fit me anymore.” Lie.

  Steph smacked my leg through the blanket. “You could have given them to me. I could have made something with them. Actually, I will take them out of the bin.”

  “You do that, Scrap Queen.” I waited for Steph to leave my room, then threw off the duvet and reached for my phone on my bedside table. My heart sank right into the pit of my stomach when I saw no missed calls or message from Parks. Did I dream last night?

  No, it wasn’t a dream, but in that moment I wished it was, because the way Parks asked me to tell him I hated him hurt. How could I do anything less than love him?

  I pressed in his number, praying for him to pick up the phone, but he didn’t. Again, it went straight to answer machine.

  “Bastard,” I muttered, hung up, and then scrolled through my playlists. I pressed Play to Ella Henderson’s “Hard Work” and pushed off my bed to head into the bathroom. I didn’t even make it to the door, because my phone started ringing, stopping the song. Thinking it was Parks, I almost dropped the phone. However, it was an incoming call from a number I didn’t recognise.

  “Hello?” I snapped. I didn’t have the energy for small talk, and I was pissed that the caller interrupted my song.

  “Evelyn? It’s Harriet. I’m so sorry to bother you like this.”

  I stopped dead. “Harriet?” Why was Parks’s mother calling me?

  “Could we meet?” she whispered, sounding rushed.

  “Uh.” I took a seat on my bed, needing to sit rather than stand on my nervous legs.

  “I’m in London. Have been for two weeks. I’m staying in the Royal Suite at The Savoy Hotel. Would you come?”

  “Now?” I cleared my throat. “I mean, sure. I’ll head right there.”

  After hanging up, I quickly darted into the shower, where I pulled my hair into a ponytail instead of washing it. After drying off, I threw on a shirt dress, pushed my feet into flats, and rushed outside the flat, flagging down a taxi and telling him where to head.

  My leg was bouncing restlessly, and my nerves were shot to bits. I got ready so quickly, I never had time to think about why Harriet would want to see me. Was it about Clinton? Parks? Considering all the options of what it could be drove me mad, so I stopped thinking and decided to wait until I got there.

  I shot the taxi driver his fare and hurled myself out the door. Something in Harriet’s tone told me it was urgent, so I was rushing. Passing a red Lamborghini outside the entrance, I hurried through the revolving doors and into the beautiful hotel. My shoes squeaked as I walked across the black-and-white-checked floor of the front hall and made my way to the front desk.

  “I’m meeting Harriet Parks,” I told the male concierge, mentally telling myself to stop fussing with my dress out of nerves.

  He smiled politely. “Ms. Banks? She’s expecting you. James here will escort you to her suite.”

  I turned to see the man in the black suit he was referring to waiting professionally to lead the way. It was all extremely posh and formal. I almost felt like a small child as I walked behind James to the lift.

  We arrived at the top floor, and James took me to the suite. He knocked on the door three times before opening it and letting me in.

  “Thanks.” I smiled at him before closing the door behind me. The instant I turned my back to the door and came face-to-face with the suite, wow instantly came to mind. I was standing in a small marble foyer. As I headed forwards, I walked into a beautiful Edwardian-style living area. The views from the windows were gorgeous, and I could see all the way across to the Thames.

  “Evelyn.”

  I spun around as Harriet walked into the room. She was as graceful and as stunning as I’d remembered her from the trip to America. She was wearing an impeccably fitted blue dress trimmed with lace on the shoulders. Her feet were in small matching heels, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. Her blonde hair was pinned up neat and pristine, but she was wearing a lot more makeup than she had last time I’d seen her. It was only when she came closer to take me in for a hug that I noticed her makeup was covering a black eye. My heart lurched as I realized where it came from.

  “Thank you so much for seeing me, Evey.”

  When she pulled away, she saw me looking at her swollen eye and put her head down before turning away.

  “He did that to you?” I came straight out with it. No holds barred.

  “Oh, it’s nothing.” She flapped a shaky hand. “I just—”

  “Don’t.” I held my palm up, shaking my head at her. “Don’t defend him. I know. Parks told me parts of what he put you and your children through. Clearly, he’s still doing the same shit.” I winced as I swore, feeling trashy for saying such a word in front of a classy woman like Harriet, but I had no other way of expressing my anger.

  She turned to me slowly, her eyes swimming in bewilderment. “He told you?” she said, her voice shaking with outrage.

  I swallowed and nodded at the same time, wondering whether it was a good idea to let her know that I knew. I wasn’t sure if she was angry because she didn’t trust someone like me, or because she didn’t want me to think of her perfect family as imperfect.

  “Evey.” She sighed as she took a seat on one of the beautiful antique-looking sofas and patted the cushion next to her. I took the offer to go and sit and then waited until she spoke so I could get a hint about what she was thinking.

  “I tried to call my son, but he isn’t answering my calls. I was wondering if you could give him a message for me?”

  I pursed my lips. “I would give him a message, but the messages I want to give him myself aren’t even going through.”

  “What do you mean, dear?” She frowned, turning her body to face me so her knees were almost touching mine.

  “He’s sorting his own shit out.” I glanced into my lap, picking off a stray hair from my dress. “He doesn’t want to talk to me right now. Harriet,” I then said, changing the subject, “I know we don’t know each other that well, and maybe it’s not my place to say, but why the hell are you with Clinton when he abuses you? Especially after he abused your children?”

  She pulled in a deep breath, and her eyes became shadowed with deep guilt. I expected her to tell me to mind my own damn business, but she didn’t. “I know, Evelyn, and I have to live with that for the rest of my life. I stood back and did nothing.” She held a diamond-fingered hand to her mouth, supressing the sob that threatened to escape.

  I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. She sounded just like my father. “A silent witness?”

  Her head snapped to mine, her blue eyes filling with confusion and sorrow. “Yes. My children hate me
because of what I didn’t do. I failed to protect them.”

  “They don’t hate you. Why do you stay?”

  Harriet wrapped her arms around herself. The same thing I did when I felt uncomfortable. “Because…the way he is, is all my fault. You say my children don’t hate me, but deep down, they do. They hate me for turning their father into a monster. I couldn’t leave him now. He would ruin me.”

  My confusion was growing by the second. “None of this is your fault. You’re a wonderful, brave woman, Harriet. What you do for your charity is remarkable. There is no way he could ruin you.”

  Harriet took hold of my hand that was resting in my lap, but her grateful smile turned upside down when a fierce banging came from the door.

  I glanced up at her, wondering if she’d invited anyone else along. Her perplexed and worried expression told me she didn’t. And when I heard that familiar, spine-tingling voice I knew who the intruder was.

  “Open up,” he called.

  I rolled my eyes as I sprang from the chair and headed to the door. I swung it open and allowed Parks to barge past me and walk straight to his mother.

  “Why are you bothering Evelyn?”

  I reached Harriet just in time to watch her eyes fill up with tears. “I needed to see you, Wade, and you won’t see me. I thought I could get a message to you through Evey. Don’t hate me for that.”

  “Evelyn has enough going on without you making things worse.” Parks then spotted her eye as she tried to pull strands of hair over it. “He hit you again?” he roared.

  Harriet completely broke down, crying into her hands. Both myself and Parks stood immobilized. We didn’t know how to show affection to anyone but each other, but this was his mother. He needed to step up. I widened my eyes and glared at Parks, nudging my head in Harriet’s direction. He shook his head coldly.

  “I can’t feel any pity for you, Mother. You’re the one who stays.” His icy tone rose over her sobs.

  “And why do you think he did this?” Harriet yelled, losing her elegance and cool as she pointed to her eye. “And this,” she wailed, pulling up a sleeve to reveal an enormous bruise on her forearm. Parks quickly turned his head away from his mother, refusing to look at what his father had done. However, I couldn’t stop looking. My heart clenched as the pain I knew she felt sliced through me. “He flew back to me after you beat him to a pulp and took it out on me.”

  “He fucking deserved it. Don’t come to me and defend him. You’re the one who allows the bastard to control your fucking life.”

  “Wade,” I scolded, but he held his hand up for me to stop talking.

  “You call yourself a devoted patron of COA?” he went on. “You couldn’t even protect us from our abusive father. You spent so much time away from us, helping other children, just so you could pretend it wasn’t happening to us. You wanted to believe our childhood was a dream. Well let me tell you, our childhood was a fucking nightmare.”

  “Wade, that’s not true. I did my best,” Harriet cried.

  “You did nothing to protect us from the shit you started. You were a married woman, opening her fucking legs to your husband’s best friend. Instead of fucking another married man, why didn’t you look after your fucking kids instead making another one?”

  Harriet slapped him across the cheek whilst I stood paralysed by his words. Harriet had an affair and another child? Was that child Abigail? No. She was too young.

  “How dare you throw that back at me, Wade?” Harriet asked as her tears fell. “You don’t think I live with that guilt every darn day?”

  Parks bit the inside of his cheek venomously. “So you should. How can you live with yourself knowing what you’ve done, and all because of a controlling prick? I swear to God, if I find out he’s ever laid a finger on Abigail, I’ll fucking kill him.”

  “He never has,” she insisted, dabbing her eyes with a neat handkerchief.

  Parks scoffed and turned away from her. He rubbed his jaw with his fingers before talking again. “That’s only because he can’t stand the sight of her.”

  My frown was etched across my forehead now. Why couldn’t Clinton stand the sight of Abigail? Because she was adopted? That wasn’t even a fact. I just assumed she was.

  I studied Parks whilst he stood with every hard muscle tensing under his suit as he looked through the windows. His delicious square jaw tightened, and his full lips pressed in a firm line. Unnecessarily, I was thinking about all the deliciousness he carried underneath his suit. Jesus. I was in the middle of finding out more about Parks and his family, and all I could think about was his cock being inside of me. How amazing he was in bed.

  Pull yourself together, woman.

  I looked back at Harriet, trying to encourage myself to go to her and wrap my arms around her. Every part of my brain was telling me to go and comfort her, but my body wouldn’t budge. All I could offer was sympathetic eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” Harriet excused herself and exited the room. Seemed she was too private and thought too much of herself to want me to see her cry. I felt so sad for her.

  “Evelyn.” My name snapped out of Parks’s mouth, showing me how much he damn owned it.

  “What?” My voice was snappy, but my body was melting from the way my name came off his tongue.

  “Don’t,” he warned, his eyes shadowed with lust as he stared at me from across the room.

  What had I done? “Don’t what?”

  His sigh was gruff as he ran his fingers through his dark hair in frustration. “Don’t look at me with those eyes, because I will be forced to fuck you even with my mother in the next room.”

  Gulp. I swallowed down my pride and closed my legs to dull the thumping that had begun between them. His words sent a thrill of excitement throughout my whole body, but I begged myself to behave. Or at least try and ignore it.

  “You don’t want me right now, but I’m okay for a fuck?” I scoffed.

  Parks strode towards me, yanked me to him by my dress, and took my mouth. He wrapped his hand around my ponytail, holding me still as he ate at my lips, his tongue lashing harshly and making me breathless. I stroked my tongue against his and relished in his nibbling and biting. He slid his lips back and forth across and around mine. He was savouring me fiercely, as if he was starved for me and needed his craving served. His erotic kiss-attack had me trembling on the spot. Had my breasts hot and heavy. My pussy dampening in need of pleasure.

  “Fuck me. Right here,” I begged, wrestling with his suit jacket to push it off his shoulders.

  “You know we can’t,” he breathed painfully, needing it as much as I did. Knowing we were in the middle of a family argument made me feel guilty as hell, but what Parks’s presence did to me overruled anything else. His intoxicating scent of freshness and watermelon made me dizzy. His hands skating over my breasts made my nipples point and me whimper. Every time I saw him, my mind raced with thoughts of how good he looked naked. How he looked on top of me. Under me. Over me. Licking me. Fucking me.

  Oh God.

  “I love you,” I breathed, succeeding in pushing off his jacket.

  His groan vibrated against my lips as he fingered my cleft over my knickers. “And I love you.”

  “Then show me. Stay with me,” I pleaded, rubbing my palm across his solid cock.

  “I’m so fucking hard it hurts,” he growled. I nibbled on his ear as his lips latched on to my neck. My back arched, my breasts pushed against his chest.

  “Show me how hard you are.” I unzipped his trousers and popped his button before feeling my way inside. I loved that he let go off my lips to let out a low moan.

  “Evelyn, what the hell are you doing to me?”

  I glanced towards the hall where Harriet had sauntered off and hoped we had time.

  “Hopefully fucking you,” I whispered into his ear.

  Parks groaned. He couldn’t help himself any longer. He picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist before pushing me up against the wall. Deftly, he pulled my k
nickers across to allow his entrance.

  “Hurry up,” I whimpered when he exposed himself.

  “Oh Evelyn.” Parks pushed himself into me, fully, deeply and buried his head into the side of my neck as I cried out. “Why do you feel so fucking good? You were made for me. Only me,” he breathed against my temple and began to move, pounding into me with fast, short thrusts. The way he had me pushed against the wall with my one leg wrapped around his waist was the prime position for his cock to rub against my clit as he lunged in and out.

  “Wade. Please. Don’t stop.” I cupped his face in my hands and took his lips, licking and lashing my tongue against his to block my moans.

  “Let me hear you come, baby.” He thrust up his hips in a dexterous way that had me coming around him.

  “Oh God.” My moan was captured by his lips, so I wailed into his mouth, biting his lips, clawing his hair. It felt like I was never going to stop. Parks wanted it all from me, and I wanted him to take it.

  “Hmm,” he growled when I bit at his mouth.

  “Let me hear you come,” I begged.

  “You like it when I come?” His breath misted my ear. “Or do you like me filling you with it?”

  “Both,” I panted and moved my hips in rhythm with his. He was on the edge of falling and coming undone with me.

  “Shit.” As he buried his head in my neck, I happened to glance over his shoulder just as Harriet came into view.

  “Fuck,” I gasped, horrified, but not as horrified as she was.

  “Wade?” she cried out, her eyes resembling an owl’s.

  “Shit. Shit.” Parks panicked, then unloaded inside me as Harriet dashed out of the room.

  I was mortified and quickly pushed him off, leaving him breathless. I pulled my dress back down, knickers up, and straightened out my appearance in shame.

  “I can’t believe we just did that.” Slumping down into a chair, I pushed my fingers through my hair, feeling paralysed with indignity. My cheeks were cold where the heat had left them, leaving me numbly embarrassed.

  Parks began tucking his shirt back in his trousers and cursed. “I just came in front of my fucking mother.” His hands went to his hair. “My mother!” He was as mortified as I was. I put my head in my hands, trying to think of what to do, but Parks was furious. “How the fuck could I lose control like that?”