Denying Mr. Parks (The Parks #1) Page 9

  “No.” I knocked his hands away abruptly. “I don’t care if you’re with Carla, or any other desperate woman, for that matter. And I don’t understand why you keep following me around. Trying to pursue me when my answer will always be no.” I shoved him in the shoulder to get him to move out of my way and tried to make a run for it, but he grabbed hold of my wrist, spun me around, pushed me back into the wall, and pinned me there with his hips. His erection dug into my pelvis, reminding me how well-endowed he actually was. Jesus.

  “Your mind is denying me, Evelyn. But your body is accepting every part of me.”

  “You’re wrong,” I breathed against his fingertips as he traced my parted lips. I was paralysed by lust. Immobilized by deplorable desire.

  “Neither of us want the feelings, Evelyn, so sex is the appropriate option.” He clenched his teeth and demanded, “You will stop denying me.”

  I was appalled that we were having this conversation, but being enticed by this man fogged any logical thoughts. I was tempted, and at this time in my life I couldn’t afford temptations. But the powerful effect he had on my body already sent my mind into turmoil. The mind I was meant to think with didn’t work around him, and that was perilous. He radiated power, torridity, and relentless, sexual persuasion. I was fucked.

  “Then go fuck Carla.”

  “No, Evelyn,” he rumbled. “My need is for you. When I look at you, my cock immediately hardens. You get me aroused to the point of possessiveness. I will possess you.” He pulled me down onto one of the elegant chairs pressed against the wall, undid the button on his suit jacket, and bent down onto his knees in front of me. “And I will taste you. I want the scent of your sweetness on my lips for the rest of the evening, Evelyn. I crave it. I can’t stop myself from needing you.”

  My thoughts became hot and erotic from his words. But my mind was vulnerable. I couldn’t go to that place, but his breathy declaration of needing me took me there. No one ever needed me, but suddenly there was this powerful, dominating man on his knees in his expensive suit, telling me he did.

  He hitched my dress up to my hips, letting out a sensuous growl as my thong came into view. I was already panting, already waiting to have his lips on the pulse that had quickened between my thighs. He took hold of my ankles just above my shoes and moved up my calves. He planted sweet, deft kisses up my legs and onto my thighs until his wet mouth met my knickers. He pushed his nose into my wet state over the material and inhaled deeply, forcing my mouth to fall open in a languid gasp.

  “Just as I expected. Sweet-scented.” He moaned softly, skilfully pulling the material of my knickers across my folds with his index finger. He bowed his head between my shamelessly parted legs, then drove his wet tongue into the slick flesh of my folds, stabbing into my tender spot. I cried out, and my hips wriggled restlessly as my voice echoed in the empty corridor. As I gripped his hair, I could almost feel his smug smirk against my tenderness.

  “God, I’ve been dying to have my lips on your heat from the moment you walked into my office.” Jesus, he sounded hot and erotic. The soft, slick stroke of his tongue continued his delicious seduction as he circled into the sensitive folds of my core. It started off with leisurely licks, but then his mouth worked up a frenzy as determination kicked in to make me orgasm. I thrust immodestly against his mouth, my body letting me down again as I begged for more of his sweet torture, begged to find release.

  He flickered his tongue over my swollen clit and sucked my slit with his lips, groaning in gratitude. He was hitting every single fevered spot, and it felt too good for words. “Yes,” I gasped. “Just like that.” My mouth was dry. I could hardly speak, but those words involuntary left it. My head fell back against the concrete wall, but I ignored the pain the impact left as my core began to tense, my body getting ready for the beginning of a build-up.

  “Do you want me to make you come, Evelyn?”

  “Yes.” I was begging at that point. I needed it. He pushed two fingers inside me, and my hole tightened around them as his satisfied groans vibrated against my sodden flesh.

  “Of course you do. Fuck, Evelyn. You do not disappoint.” He made me come with one more slice of his seductive tongue. My belly tightened immensely, then suddenly loosened, pouring my orgasm into his gifted mouth. My thighs clenched around his head, and my fingers clasped his hair as my climax jolted through my body.

  “Oh my…Wade.” I called out his name, which caused a gratifying rumble to escape his throat, the sound vibrating against my swollen bud. My climax felt never ending. The sensation of satisfaction ran through my whole body whilst Parks lapped up my arousal until he left me dry.

  In the midst of my high, I was vaguely aware of him gently placing my knickers back into position, then pulling my dress back down over my thighs. My body felt limp. I was breathless. My legs shaking.

  Parks straightened up, brought me into his chest, then sat on the chair himself and placed me on his lap. He took my head into his hands whilst licking his lips dry. “When you call my name like that, Evelyn, fuck. You have no idea how that feels.” I gazed into the vivid green warmth of his eyes that were watching me carefully. I wanted to kiss him. Wanted to tell him how good it felt for me, but expressing feelings was impossible.

  “Why don’t you tell me how you feel, Evelyn? Tell me how that felt for you? Your body gave me the answer, but I want to hear it from you.” He brushed the hair that had fallen from my ponytail out of my face, so I pulled it to one side to tame it and sighed deeply. Even though I didn’t know him, it felt like I did. It felt like we had already met, even though we were strangers to one another.

  “If I show an interest I’m exposed, and then there would be nothing I can do to take it back. Exposed and vulnerable are not something I am. I’m cold and withdrawn, and that’s the way I like it. Why would I show feelings to someone who will only hurt me?”

  His eyes widened, and I could see he was taking in what I told him. It was more than I had ever told anyone, and I instantly regretted it.

  I wriggled from his lap. “I have to go. Alex will be wondering where I am.”

  Parks got to his feet quickly and caught me by the wrist. “You think I’d hurt you?” He sounded appalled.

  “I know you would,” I breathed, then looked at where he held me until he released my wrist gently. I blinked up at his morose expression. I wanted to say more, I think he knew it too, but I just couldn’t. My throat closed, shutting down any words that may have outed how I felt.

  “I need to go. I’ve been so stupid.” I hurried away from him, feeling disgusted and disgraced.

  “You’re wrong, Evelyn,” he called after me but made no attempt to follow.

  ***

  When I returned to the party, I was overheated and felt dazed and stupid. I made my way to the toilets to try and sort my hair out and calm down. Gazing into the mirror, I saw my face was flushed and I had tresses falling out of my ponytail, so I made quick work of sorting out my hair. When it was patted in place, I pressed my palms down onto the sink and stared into the mirror at my reflection, debating on what to do. Should I leave? If I did, that would show I couldn’t cope with the situation, and I could. I could if I had a drink. So I made the decision to stay and face it.

  As I was about to walk out of the toilets, Carla was walking in. Her brown gaze rolled over my dress, making me come to a standstill. “Nice,” she said indifferently. I didn’t return the complement, even though what I wanted to give her was a mouthful of bad manners. “Dreamy, isn’t he?” She swooned, pulling out a lipstick from her clasp clutch bag and gazing into the mirror.

  “Who might that be?” I turned and told myself to be nice and to smile.

  “Mr. Parks, silly.” She flopped a weak hand and giggled like a child.

  “Dreamy isn’t a word I’d use,” I muttered.

  She laughed once, then her smile was gone and her mouth set in a straight line. If she could, she would also be frowning.

  “I’ve seen the way yo
u look at him.”

  Then I was laughing. “Excuse me?”

  She moved towards me, pointing her red fingernail in my face. “I happen to like Mr. Parks, Evey, and it’s only a matter of time before I get him to fall for me. Men like him always do.”

  I stepped back from her finger, having to hold my tongue. “What exactly are you trying to say, Carla?”

  “Stay away from him,” she snarled.

  I was speechless, and she was crazy. “I have no intention of going near Parks, so whatever your little brain is telling you is bullshit. Maybe you should tell it to shut the fuck up.” Oops.

  “Remember, I can take your job away from you just like that.” She clicked her fingers in front of my face, forcing my temper to flare. I needed to take myself away from the bitch before I lost my job, but she continued, purposely trying to rile me. “The only reason I kept you on was because Clarke seems to like you, and I need Clarke on my law team. So thank him for saving your arse, because believe me, you would have been out the first chance I got.”

  “What the fuck is your problem?” I asked vehemently.

  Another two women came into the toilet who knew Carla, so it was then my time to leave. Soon after I exited, Alex came into view. He was walking towards me, looking a little confused and still holding my orange juice. Seeing him made me feel worse.

  “Evey, where have you been?” he asked softly, not the least bit mad.

  “Sorry, I was in the bathroom,” I apologized, glancing away from him. I still felt a little stunned about what had just happened, and I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I also had Carla’s threat to deal with and wasn’t in the mood for chitchat.

  Alex held his hand out to touch my cheek. “You all right? You’re burning up.”

  “I need a drink.” I brushed past him, but he caught up to me.

  “Evey, you don’t drink. Remember? You don’t need this.”

  “Yes, I do,” I snapped. I was at the event with Alex, yet I allowed another man to make me orgasm only yards away. My boss was threatening me, and I had guilt to deal with. Of course I needed a drink. I walked straight to the server tray with determination and took a champagne flute, downed it whole, then replaced the empty glass with another. Alex stared at me at a loss. He knew little about me, but he did know that when I had my mind set on something, there was no stopping me. No reasoning with me.

  As I brought the second glass to my lips, I watched Parks move through the room towards me. I groaned in exasperation and was about to walk in the opposite direction, but Carla hurried in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. He looked over her shoulder towards me, but I was already making my way to the bar. Alex followed me like a lost lamb.

  “Stop following me,” I barked at him and should’ve felt bad because none of it was his fault, but I couldn’t shift my mood. I was an idiot for letting Parks near me. Alex was a good man. Why would I want to hurt him?

  “I think we should leave.” Alex took my hand, trying to force me away from the bar.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m making the most of it. Besides, we haven’t even had our meal yet.”

  When I got to the bar, I ordered three tequila shots and a large glass of red wine. I drank the shots one after another, no salt, no lemon, and then made short work of my wine, drinking it like it was water. I always did. Alcohol had no real taste to me anymore. Other people drink at parties to be sociable. Some drink for the enjoyment. Me, I drink to numb feelings and block out problems. I was going back on everything I promised. Everything I talked about in my weekly programmes. But I needed it. Needed to numb the feelings I was beginning to feel. Feelings were something I couldn’t deal with, and alcohol helped me freeze them out. It always did.

  An hour later, I was on my way to oblivion and completely and utterly wasted. I left Alex with the closeted Johns and forced Clarke to the dance floor with me, even though he danced like a drunken dad at a wedding. Then I heard an authoritative voice in my ear that stopped my enjoyment. “Evelyn. I think you’ve had enough to drink, don’t you?”

  I began laughing at his audacity. “And who are you to tell me what to do?”

  Parks’s eyes narrowed at my defiance. About to take my hand, he ignored my little protest, but Alex appeared out of nowhere and pulled me out of his grip.

  “I think that’s my job. Don’t you?”

  With blurry vision I watched Parks’s jaw clench. “Then if it is, do it properly.” It was a dark and stern command. Alex glared at him whilst Clarke’s gaze wandered back and forth between the two men. I shook my head at the pair of them and turned on my heel, losing balance and falling into Clarke.

  “Good grief, Evey.” Clarke stumbled, but Parks was by my side in an instant to pull me to my feet. As he balanced me, my woozy eyes peered upwards to look into his vivid green pair. His eyes softened like he was concerned for my well-being. Like he knew there was a reason, a hidden agenda as to why I got so drunk.

  Alex took my arm, breaking our contact and gently pulled me away. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

  I could tell by Parks’s darkening features that he hated every second of having to let another man take me home. But I wasn’t his. So he needn’t bother.

  Alex drove me home and let me into my flat as I couldn’t quite find the keyhole with my key. I stumbled through the door, trying to be as quiet as possible, but I kept giggling and telling Alex to shush even though he wasn’t talking. Suddenly the living room lights came on, and I was greeted by the wrathful glare of Steph in her pink, fluffy dressing gown and rabbit slippers.

  She gasped like the wind had taken her breath away. “You’re drunk?”

  I rudely giggled and walked up to her, wrapped my arms around her neck, and flopped my head on her shoulder. All the while she was shouting at Alex. “What the fuck? She hasn’t drunk for almost a year, and you accompany her out and she gets in this state?”

  “Steph, I tried to stop her, but you know how she gets. She wouldn’t listen. What was I meant to do?”

  “I don’t believe this. You’re too soft, Al!”

  All I remember was Steph putting me to bed and falling asleep to the sound of her and Alex arguing.

  Fuck.

  What had I done?

  Chapter Ten

  I got up early next morning intentionally. I didn’t have a hangover and felt better than I deserved. Quickly, I showered, got dressed, and snuck out of my bedroom. Steph’s bedroom door was still shut, and that alone created a pang of relief.

  It was a Sunday, and I didn’t intend on going to see my dad, but I needed to get out of the house. I knew I was going to have a row with Steph when she woke, but doing it on a Sunday morning wouldn’t have been my preference.

  I took my smartphone from my bag before I left and saw the eight missed calls from Parks, then the two text messages telling me to call him. I ignored him, threw my phone on to sofa, and took hold of my iPod instead.

  I walked to a nearby coffee shop, grabbed a coffee to go, set my iPod up to Ellie Goulding’s “Starry Eyed,” plugged my earphones in, and then made my way to the Tube station. It took me to Peckham, where my dad lived in a small flat on a council estate. People thought the estate was rough, saying the crime rate there was one of the worst in London, but as I’d grown up around there, I’d defend it to my death. Of course, I did get into the wrong crowds growing up, and maybe I was influenced to do bad things, but most young kids are. And sometimes I was the influencer. I wasn’t proud of it, but that was my past, and I had to learn to let it go. However, it always seemed to keep coming back around into my future.

  I walked into the estate and climbed the stairs to the eleventh floor until I was standing outside the red, battered door to number 133. I put my key into the keyhole and sagged. I hated it. Hated not knowing what was going to be on the other side…whether devastation or peace. It wasn’t just that, either. The memories my parents’ flat held still haunted me. But I had to be strong because that was what I wanted to b
e. That was what I had to be.

  Opening the door, I instantly got hit with the smell of cleaning polish, bleach, and about twenty air fresheners. Okay, it wasn’t a bad start. Unusual, but not bad. I walked through the narrow hallway and across the brown, frayed carpet that had never been updated. Even the writing on the walls I did as a child was still visible on the cold, bare concrete.

  I found my dad in the living room with a cigarette hanging from his mouth and window cleaner and a cloth in his hands. Okay, he’d gone into restoration mode. It was better than any other mode. He was shimmying to Stevie Wonder and was so engrossed in his task he hadn’t spotted me yet.

  “Cleaning spree, Dad?” I shouted over the music, dumfounded at what I was seeing. When he turned around, his amber eyes, just like mine, lit up all vivaciously. Stubbing out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, he beamed. “Evey, my love. You came.” It was the same smile of hope he always plastered on when he saw me since I’d moved out. When he brought me into a hug, I flinched, the same as I always did. I had never been able to hug my dad since I was a young child. I could never really have close contact with anybody.

  “It smells good in here, Dad. I can actually see you have a carpet on the floor.”

  He chuckled nervously, released me from his hug, and patted down the sides of his long hairdo that looked like it had been cut by Edward Scissorhands. He was always shaky, always pale, and too skinny. “I need to get the place looking spic-and-span for your ma’s return.” He sheepishly looked away from me so he wouldn’t catch my reaction.

  “What?” I felt my face drop and my heart do the same. “She’s coming home? I thought she was…”

  “Yes, Evey, she was. But listen, she’s finished her time in rehab. You should see her now. She’s changed.”

  She’s changed? If I had a penny for every time I heard that, I would be wealthier than Parks. I couldn’t believe it. My mother could not come home, and I stressed that point to him ceaselessly.

  “Dad, you promised me this wouldn’t happen.”

  He sank onto the sofa, looking torn, rubbing his aged face with his hands. He was only forty-nine, yet he looked ten years his senior. “Look, she’s different now. You ain’t seen her in what? A year? Everyone deserves second chances, don’t they?”