Denying Mr. Parks (The Parks #1) Page 5

  I laughed at his ridiculous attempt to sweeten me up. “I am not a gift to you, Parks. And if I was a gift, it sure as hell wouldn’t be from God.”

  His eyes narrowed briefly as if he were afflicted. “Evelyn, I notice you have an incredible inferiority complex.”

  I blinked at his vocabulary. “Come again?”

  He sighed in a way that indicated my obliviousness was adorable to him. “You have low self-esteem.”

  “I do not,” I shot back, extremely defensive because that’s what I did. I couldn’t take compliments or criticism. “Why are you even in here?” I glanced around the room. “Don’t you have Jittery Joanna to run around after you?”

  His green eyes stared at me for a second as though he was trying to figure out who I was referring to. Then he chuckled and pinched the bridge of his nose. It made me laugh, because seeing God’s gift smile was surprisingly refreshing; he completely lit up.

  “Jittery Joanna is on her break, and as I watched your fine physique strut in here, I felt obliged to follow.” Proving he liked what he saw, his insatiable gaze lowered down the length of my curvaceous body dressed in a tight-fitted black dress.

  “Really? You don’t seem the sheep type to me.”

  “Trust me, I am not the sheep, Evelyn, but the wolf. I always take the last bite.”

  Oh. “Looks like you’re out of luck. Clarke just had the last tea cake.” I took a long sip of my tea as he watched me thoughtfully. I knew damn well he wasn’t talking about pastries. But I wasn’t going to be subjected to his dirty-minded ways. Even if my body was telling me to get sucked in, my sensible mind was telling me otherwise, and I had learned to listen to my head.

  “What about your cake, Evelyn?”

  I almost spat out my tea. “My cake it out of the question, Parks. Besides, it’s not even my birthday.” I hid my grin childishly, mentally thanking Rihanna for that line.

  “Hm,” he growled, taking a short step towards me, getting intimately close to my body. He gently took the warm mug from my hand and placed it behind me. My breathing was on hold, and my eyes were glued to his green, hooded irises. I could smell the devouring essence of men’s cologne. It was a burst of freshness along with strong masculinity. Desperately I wanted to push him away, but before I could, his face was inches away from mine, his cool breath against my lips. I’m not sure if it was consciously, but I could taste the watermelon juice he always sipped on his lips. I wasn’t fond of watermelon, but right then, I craved the taste.

  He brushed the tip of his thumb across my jaw and spread his fingers out across my cheek. “Is your cake moist now, Evelyn? Would you prefer it iced?” He spoke in a low, husky voice that tickled my lips. His tone commanded my nerve endings to stand to attention like their sergeant major had arrived. Shit. He was a charming, expert, arrogant arse who could most certainly make my cake moist—and he did. Even so, he wasn’t having a slice of me.

  “It certainly is not moist, Parks. And no, I can’t say I am partial to icing. It’s too…sticky.”

  A small, almost tortuously hot chuckle left his mouth as he breathed sweetly against my lips. “You would love mine,” he hinted, alluring amusement etched all over the beauty of his face.

  “I doubt it,” I breathed, unconvincingly. I hated myself for sounding so weak and helpless, but that was how he made me feel. That’s why I knew he wasn’t safe for me. He was dangerous, and I didn’t do dangerous anymore.

  He firmly pushed his rock-hard length between my thighs, instantly hitting my thumping sweet spot. Fuck. How was that possible? I gasped softly and instinctively held on to his bulging forearms. His smirk widened as result. Oh yes, he was satisfied with my reaction. I wasn’t. How could I let him do this to me? But I was glued in place. Wanting him, thinking about his perfectly curved, parted lips and watermelon taste erotically seducing my mouth; thinking about his big, soft hands roaming over my body, my legs wrapped around his lean, toned waist, and his length of steel inside of me whilst he worked me into an orgasmic overload on the counter behind me.

  “Can you feel the reaction my cock has to you, Evelyn? I know you saw it the office yesterday. How could you not?”

  Jesus. I’d never felt so aroused. My body had never ached for a man’s body like it did in that moment, and I hated myself for it.

  As if he’d read my mind, he rolled his hips forwards, digging his erection into the sweet spot that was pulsing between my thighs. He was circling around my ache with the head of his cock, causing the ball of nerves to pulse quicker than I’d ever felt it. It stung like a bee sting, sending a sharp sensation from the top of my stomach into my—yes, moist—core. I reached behind him to grab on to his firm arse, dug my nails into his flesh, and pushed him farther into me. I needed his hardness between my legs. I knew it was wrong, but I was simply using him for my own pleasure. That’s all.

  He spoke against my lips again whilst softly exhaling, then humming through his throat as he rubbed against me. The head of his steel length swivelled around and around as he pushed into my clit with only the barrier of material stopping the sensation of flesh on flesh. I don’t think I would have survived it without that barricade.

  “You see, Evelyn, you want me deep, deep inside of you. And when you let me, I’m going to fill your sweet body with all of this.” He pushed into my tenderness harder that time, making me gasp. Showing me all of what he could gift me with. I swear he could feel how wet I was becoming through my underwear, but I would deny it to high heaven. “I bet you feel divine. Let me touch you.” He reached both hands up my dress as he sent heated quick kisses across my jaw. I whimpered at every soft kiss he graced me with but never confirmed I wanted him. He was about to slip his fingers inside my knickers, and I was ready for it until I heard a ruckus outside the door. Parks didn’t care. He held on to me, realising I was going to push him away. When the door opened, he spun around to see Jittery Joanna walking through it. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy. “What, Joanna?” he snapped at her before she could even speak, running his fingers through his hair.

  She looked behind her boss and towards me whilst I adjusted my dress. I turned in a rush to retrieve my mug and hide my guilty expression.

  “You have Mr. Peru on the line, Mr. Parks.”

  “Tell him to wait,” he growled. She bowed her head and scurried away. I brushed past him to go back to the office, but he caught my elbow. “Where do you think you’re going? I haven’t finished with you yet.”

  “We’re done here, Parks. There is nothing to finish. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  “Why are you fighting me, Evelyn?”

  I frowned. “I’m not fighting you, Mr. Parks, I’m simply telling you no.”

  His jaw clenched. “I don’t like being told no.”

  “Clearly. But my answer is still no.” I said it slowly that time so he would understand my final decision.

  “No to what, exactly? You won’t be mine?”

  “No, I won’t let you fuck me, Parks.”

  “Jesus,” he emphasized his exasperation with firm hands. “Call me Wade.”

  “Why are you always insisting on me calling you by your first name?”

  He smirked salaciously and released my elbow. “Because it’s what you’ll be calling me when I’m fucking you, Evelyn, so I want you to call me Wade at all times. Only you.”

  “Fucking me?” I gaped. “I can’t listen to this.” I was about to open the door when he spoke, halting me again.

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “Who?” I spun around on my heel, exasperated.

  “The guy who took you to that dive and sent you cheap flowers. A beautiful woman like yourself should be wined and dined and sent diamonds.”

  I laughed contemptuously. Was he for real? Clearly not. “Excuse me, Mr. Parks, but not everyone is a millionaire. I love what Alex does for me. He’s kind and thoughtful. And if he was my boyfriend, I don’t see what concern it is of yours. And whilst we’re on the subject�
�—I prodded his shoulder—”I thought it was very fucking rude of you to interrupt my date yesterday. Who do you think you are?”

  “He’s thoughtful and kind?” He laughed, pinching his nose. Then he glanced through his dark lashes at me, showing me all the vividness of his green eyes, all his intensity, all the control. I could have shivered, he held it all so well. “But does he make you angry, Evelyn? Does he make your blood pump? Your stomach knot, your cheeks burn red? Does he make you wet when you think of him? Because that’s what I do for you, don’t I? I can read your body like a book. The sooner you realise it, the better.”

  “The better for who? You?” I scoffed. “You’re a man who goes around collecting those jars of hearts, aren’t you?” I could imagine all the women he had fucked throughout his life and making a damn good job of it. Sending them wild for more, wild for his attention.

  “I’m simply a man who knows what he wants. And sex with no strings is one of those things.”

  “So there’s no denying you’ve broken more than a couple of hearts by telling those women all you want is sex?”

  He shrugged casually. “Not my problem. That’s all I desire, and I make that clear from the very beginning.”

  I was a little intrigued now. He knew a bit about me, yet I knew nothing about him. I wasn’t about to let him have an advantage. “So who collects your heart, Mr. Parks?”

  His eyes narrowed slightly. “No one collects my heart, Evelyn. That is not for transaction. Why give a woman my heart when she can have me for a night?” He shrugged like it was the simplest idea that ever existed.

  “Do you even have a heart, Parks?”

  His lips twitched. “Do you?”

  That was easy. “No.”

  He agreed with a rumble. “Hm. You do seem heartless, Evelyn.”

  I didn’t gasp or feel offended by that remark because he was right. Why should I give out love when I didn’t get any back? And Parks was exactly the kind of man to break hearts. Did he think I was stupid? “I would rather be heartless than heartbroken.”

  The slight gasp that emerged from his parted lips told me he wasn’t expecting that pronouncement. I placed my hand on the door handle, ready to leave and warned him for the final time. “I’m going to go now, and you’re going to let me, and then you’re going to leave me the fuck alone. For. Good. If you think doing all of this will get you into my knickers, then sorry to disappoint you, it won’t work.”

  I suspected an argument, but instead he walked to the door, clenching his jaw. He placed one palm around the hand I had on the handle, pressed the other beside my face against the doorframe, and leaned in, intimately close. His strong, rock-hard chest pressed into my breasts, forcing my breathing to halt.

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t wear any to make it easier.”

  His wry grin dominated his face, so I leaned in until I was inches away from his lips. “Maybe I should wear a chastity belt to keep you out.”

  Cocking his head sidewards, he agreed. “That could work. Then I will have reassurance that no other man will touch you.”

  My head tilted back when I laughed. “That also includes you.”

  He let go of the door handle to stroke my face. “I am a determined man, Evelyn,” he said with assurance. “I always get what I want. I will have you.”

  “Determined?” I mocked as our eyes locked. “I’d call it being a spoilt brat.”

  He pushed off his arm to give me space and did a raspy chuckle. “I think you’ll find the correct term is spoiled.”

  “No,” I argued, “it’s spoilt. And seeing as you’re a spoilt brat that isn’t about to get his own way, get ready to throw your toys out of the pram. Now let me leave.”

  He clenched his jaw tightly again but still went ahead and held the door open for me.

  “As you wish.”

  Oh? That was easier than anticipated. I turned on my heel and walked back into the corridor until he called me again.

  “Oh, and Evelyn?”

  “Yes?” My sigh should tell him he was being a nuisance.

  “It’s spoiled.”

  “Fuck off. How about that for a correct term?” My heels clipped ferociously down the corridor, but he wasn’t far behind, and when we entered the office all eyes were on us as we barged through the doors together.

  Nosy bastards.

  Parks walked ahead of me and made his way through the room. All the women in the office watched his every move with gaping mouths—all apart from Posh Pat.

  “Evelyn,” I heard Clarke hiss. I snapped my head in his direction, forcing my eyes away from Parks’s firm arse. “You keep looking at Mr. Parks like that and we’re going to need a Wet Floor sign.”

  My mouth fell open. “Clarke,” I admonished him, stunned by his unusual lewd remarks.

  “Well,” he said, his cheeks turning in like he was chewing a sweet. “You can try and hide it, but I know what those eyes mean.”

  I did not give Parks arousal eyes. Did I?

  No, I didn’t.

  I threw myself into work for the rest of the day and finished all the files I had to type up for Clarke and Pat. When five thirty came around I gathered my belongings. Sure enough, as I got my bag ready to leave, Parks called me into his office, making Clarke suspicious.

  “Evey, what on earth is going on between you two? Are you heading for promotion?”

  I laughed at his accusation. “Clarke, I love that you immediately think the worst of me. You’re lucky I know you’re joking. I don’t know what he wants.” I shrugged coyly, glancing away from his scrutiny and hitching my bag onto my shoulder.

  “Hmm,” he sang. I could not pull the wool over Clarke’s eyes. “Be careful, my girl.”

  “I will be. See you tomorrow.” I waved a hand over my shoulder and burst into the office. Parks was sitting in Carla’s leather swivel chair, talking on the phone.

  “What do you want?” I snapped.

  He held his finger up, gesturing for me to wait a moment and watched my impatient, tapping foot whilst he spoke on the phone. “I understand. I will be staying in London for another month. I have a lot of firms to get through, as you can imagine. Yes…thank you, Mr. Peru. Good-bye.” He smirked when he finally slipped his iPhone into the pocket of his suit jacket. “Evelyn.”

  “Get it over with.” I made sure my voice sounded like I was bored.

  He rocked back into his chair once, engaging eye contact. “Evelyn, as you know, I’m hosting a law society dinner this Saturday night.”

  The slight movement of my eyes proved my confusion. If I was told about it, I forgot.

  “What about it?” I bluffed.

  “Would you do me the honour of joining me?” he asked in that irritating, confident voice that was sexy as hell.

  “As what?” I laughed. “Your date?”

  He grinned as though he was oblivious to my mockery. “What else?”

  “And why would I do a thing like that?”

  Slowly he pushed to his feet and walked around the desk, straightening out the cuffs on his wrists. “Because I want a beautiful woman on my arm for the night, and the woman I would like is you. You would make me a very happy man.”

  I would make him happy? “What do I get out of it?”

  “The pleasure of my company.” He shrugged, saying it like I should be privileged, leaning his backside against the desk and sliding his hands in his pockets.

  “No.” My answer was point-blank.

  He blinked, completely thrown back. “No? My company won’t be a pleasure? Or no, you won’t accompany me?”

  “No to both. Besides, I’m busy Saturday night.” I wasn’t. My confirmation forced him to stand from the desk, his body instantly more alert and direct.

  “Doing what and with whom?”

  I turned my nose up at him and crossed my arms. Fuck how it enhanced my breasts. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Evelyn, you will be there on my arm.” His voice was solid and his eyes strict.

/>   “Parks, I said no.” He was testing my patience.

  “You can’t tell me no.” I loved that he blinked every time I declined, like it was a rarity. He loathed my lack of obedience, and I loved every second of it.

  “I just did.” My tone was mocking him. “Do you even know what N-O spells?”

  “Yes.” He smirked.

  “Really?” I raised my brow. “A Harvard major like yourself can’t spell?”

  His eyes lit up, all amused. “You know I attended Harvard Law School?”

  Shit. I was busted. “No.” I shrugged defensibly. “It was just a lucky guess.” I had to make something up.

  “Really?” He replicated my earlier remark with a dark raised brow of his own. He was so frustrating. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you have you been researching me, Evelyn.” He was gloating, and his smile showed all his perfect white teeth. It pissed me off because it was sexy as hell.

  “Oh, go fuck yourself, Parks,” I shot back at him, throwing my hands up in rage. I had never let anyone get to me the way he had. He got under my skin. Every part of it.

  Grazing his bottom lip with his top teeth before answering, he said, “I would rather you fucked me.”

  What? I wanted to scream at him. But before I could, he called Jittery Joanna into the room, bellowing her name. She was there within a nanosecond and looking at me like I smelt of horse manure.

  “Yes, Mr. Parks?”

  Parks never looked away from me. “Send a reminder invitation to all employees of Parks Law Firm.”

  She fiddled with the paper in her hand before hesitantly asking, “For what, sir?”

  He rubbed at his forehead, exasperated, then waved his hand around briefly as he spoke. “For the dinner Saturday night, Joanna.”

  “Right.” She shifted from heel to heel, making herself look extremely awkward.

  “Joanna?” Parks moved his head forwards a little, as if to ask what she was doing still standing there.

  “Sorry, I’ll get right to it.” And she scuttled away with bright red cheeks.

  “Do you speak to all your staff that way? I’m surprised you have any,” I quipped.