Found in Us (Lost 2)

"Mmm, but you like that, don't you, Jessica? Don't pretend you don't. There's no need to pretend with me."

"I do like it," I admit through heavy breaths.

"So do I," he says, before yanking my dress to the ground, leaving me in just my underwear and thigh-highs. "You're beautiful. And all mine."

"All yours," I agree, tilting my head to one side to give him better access. Why do I like this so much? Is it because it's in some way forbidden? Forbidden things and forbidden behavior have always thrilled me. They give me a sense of nonconformity and freedom. And Parker gives me this kind of freedom when I’m with him. No, we give it to each other. He craves the same thing I do. Because deep down, under his sleek Armani suit, groomed manners, and years of trained self-control, there are still remnants of the bad boy from years ago.

And they are delicious.

The decadence of it all strikes me as Parker pushes me against the window. I grab the metal railing with my hands. My panties are soaked already. Decadence, yes . . . maybe that's why I enjoy it so much. It should feel wrong. But it doesn't feel wrong at all. Not with him. We are partners in this. When we are apart, we are on our best behavior, fitting in. But when we are together, we carve our own bubble of freedom in which nothing can touch us—where we can let loose.

This might not be right for the world, but it is right for us.

Parker's kisses trail down my back, and then he's on his knees, cupping my buttocks with one hand and slipping his fingers of the other to the front, stroking my panties. I breathe heavily, the contact of the wet fabric with my skin sending shivers through my nerve endings. Then he rises to his feet, pushes the portion of the fabric covering my pussy aside and slides into me. I started birth control a while ago, and feeling him bare inside me... oh God.

I grip the railing with all my might, rocking my hips against him. Then, I feel an ice cube at the back of my neck, then further down until it rests on the point where our bodies touch before falling to the ground with the next thrust.

Parker grabs a fistful of hair, pulling my head back, and kisses me ferociously. His tongue darts in and out, in and out of my mouth, with a precision that makes me delirious. When he lets go, I swear the world disappears before me. I can barely breathe, see, or make any sense of time or place. I lean my head back, resting on his shoulder and let his thrust guide me. As the coveted tension starts building inside me, I open my eyes. We've reached the highest point of the London Eye, and I think to myself that nothing, nothing could be more perfect. As my mom always said, when the pieces fall where they should, all things start aligning.

I would, of course, soon prove that a different saying—one of my own—would hold true in my case.

The higher you are, the harder you fall.

Chapter Twenty-One

Jessica

"You're kidding, right?" I say after we get off the Eye, when Parker says we have to stop by his office so he can pick up some papers he needs to go over tonight in preparation for the meeting with the buyers tomorrow. "That means you'll completely ignore me tonight, won't you?"

"Until Saturday, actually." He smiles apologetically, opening the door of the car for me. "I'll be stuck in meetings with them tomorrow and Friday."

I cross my arms over my chest, pretending to be upset, but then grin. The truth is I'm happy for him, because if he does manage to go through with the sale, he'll be a much happier man. "Let's go get your papers, you damn workaholic. I’m dying to see your office anyway."

There isn't one soul inside the building, but given it's late at night, that's no surprise. Blakesley Enterprises is on the second floor.

"This is quite a luxurious office for a company that's in the dumpster," I say.

Parker smiles, putting his hand at the small of my back as he guides me through the corridor between offices. "You'd be surprised what constitutes a priority when it comes to cost-cutting."

Once we’re inside Parker’s office, I inspect it closely while he shuffles through some papers on his desk. There's not one personal item of his here. No pictures or anything.

Parker curses under his breath.

"Not finding what you need?" I ask.

"My secretary must have locked up the papers." He opens a drawer under his desk, takes a key out, and proceeds to the floor-to ceiling shelves next to his desk. They have sliding doors that need a key to unlock. Parker unlocks one, opens the door, and takes out a folder. "This is the one. But I still need the other one..." he murmurs to himself. "Be right back.” He leaves the room, holding the folder. I look around, and the unlocked door of the shelves catches my attention. I pull the door completely open and peruse the spines of the thick folders. It's not like the names on the folders actually mean anything to me—just random companies I haven't heard about. But it makes me feel closer to him, like I get to discover something more about him.

And then my eyes freeze over one of the folders. It looks exactly like the other ones.

Except it has my name on it.

I open the folder slowly, cold dread invading every cell of my body. My mom always says that our body has a way of predicting when something bad is about to happen, and it's best to listen to the warning and run. But unlike my mom, I was never one to run away from things. Even bad ones.

A picture of me is on the front page. Taken a few years ago. No big deal, I tell myself. He could've downloaded it from Facebook or whatever.

The same cannot be told about what lies on the second page, though.

My name is on the top, followed by a fucking ta