Parker (Face-Off 1)
He sucks in a deep breath and lets it out. “No…no, I’m not okay. Charlotte, look at me. I’m a fucking mess right now, and I’m nervous.”
“Because of me?” I ask, curious what has changed since dinner.
“No…yes…I don’t know. It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman, and I wasn’t, you know, drunk. Before my dad died and I started drinking, I didn’t have a lot of time for women. My dad made sure of it. He said I didn’t need any distractions, and he was right because playing without them helped me. I know it’s been six days, and I’ve kept my promise to you, but I can’t stop myself from thinking that one sip would take the edge off.”
He needs to fight the urge, and I cannot let him give up, not after he’s made so much progress. “Why don’t you try going to bed? We can hang out another night. You have to get up early to hit the road anyway, and you must be tired after staying up with me again. I know I am.”
Alex shakes his head. “I can’t sleep. I’m too irritable.”
“You just need a distraction. Give it time, Alex. Your body is going to crave alcohol, and if you truly want to get better and get your life back on track, then you’re going to have to resist the temptation. The fact that you’re doing this well so far tells me that you don’t have as much of a problem as I originally thought. Just stick with it, and the urge will go away.”
I sit up and scoot my butt along the leather until my back hits the cushions in the corner of the L-shaped couch, giving Alex more room to spread out and relax. But it’s not just for his benefit. We need some distance between us, or I’ll end up doing something I will regret. I’m still torn between what my body wants and what my mind tells me is wrong.
“We could make some popcorn and watch a movie. I think there’s a new Bourne movie out.”
“They’re still making those Bourne movies?” He laughs. “I think the last time I went to see a movie in the theater was probably around the time the last one came out. That was a long time ago.”
“Well, how about you make yourself useful and go pop us some popcorn while I find the movie? I’m pretty sure I saw it on On Demand last week. The bowls are in the cabinet next to the fridge, and the popcorn is the pantry.”
“You know, you’re kinda sexy when you’re ordering me around. I like it.” He stands and smiles at me before setting off toward the kitchen.
As he works on our snack, I can’t help but commit to memory the ridges of his back muscles as he opens the cabinets or the way his broad shoulders move as he runs a hand through his shaggy brown hair that falls onto his forehead. His abs…oh dear God, his stomach and the perfectly sculpted V of his pelvic muscle make me want to explore that part of his body with my tongue.
Most professional athletes are toned and in top physical condition with the stamina to match, but they’re not standing in my kitchen in their underwear, and they’re certainly not Alex Parker. Every ounce of willpower drains from my body as I watch him press the buttons on the microwave. To me, his movements look sensual, but in reality, it’s just my undersexed mind taking mental snapshots for later.
By the time Alex sits next to me on the couch, bowl in hand and stuffing his face, I have to close my legs tightly together and pull them up to my chest to quell my own desire. With my arm draped over the edge of the couch, I click the remote with the other hand to start the movie before dropping it next to me.
“Here.” Alex shoves the bowl in front of my face with a smile. “You’d better take some of this before I eat it all.”
I look down and find that he’s already eaten most of the bag he popped, and I grab a handful. But I’m not hungry for food. I’m hungry for Alex.
After I thank him with a polite nod, he places the bowl on his lap, and I can’t stop staring, wishing I could take its place, as I shove the popcorn into my mouth.
“Bourne is the fucking man!” Alex points at the massive flat screen on the wall, a look of excitement on his handsome face. “Did you see that shit? Damon’s still got it after all these years.”
I don’t bother to answer since his comment is more of a statement than a question, and the noises coming from the surround sound speakers almost drowned out his words.
Then, he does something I didn’t expect. He sets the empty bowl on the coffee table and cuddles up next to me, as if this is a normal thing we do. I know we were supposed to go on a date earlier, but I also avoided coming home because I was terrified of developing feelings for Alex. I’m becoming attached to him, and it scares the shit out of me.
Propping himself up with his elbow, he sinks his face into his palm and leans into it. Our bodies are touching, as we watch the movie. My breath hitches when he readjusts his position and lifts his arm, grazing my leg and leaving a trail of fire on my skin. I have no idea what’s happening on the screen. There’s the loud bang of guns, sirens from police cars, and the usual action music, but all I can think about is the way my skin tingles from his touch. It’s been far too long since I last had sex.
Midway through the film, I rub my forearm against Alex’s hand next to me on the couch, closing the gap between us. I want to think that it’s an accident, but subconsciously, I know this is what I want even if it’s just for the night. I have needs, too, and those needs haven’t been met in eighteen months.
His fingers appear to be moving to the beat of the music or maybe to keep from trembling. At first, he doesn’t seem to notice that I keep finding ways to lightly touch him, not until he stops moving and his eyes meet mine.
Why did he have to come out here without a shirt or pants?
And why does he have to give me that sexy-as-fuck look, the one where the corner of his mouth turns up into a cross between a smile and a smirk?
His attention shifts from my face to the couch, and he opens my closed palm and raises my hand to his lips. I suck in a deep breath, and Alex glances up at me, intently watching how my bo
dy responds.
By the way he devours me with those hazy gray-blue eyes, he knows I want him. His mouth grazes my knuckles, the heat from his breath sending a chill down my spine that makes my legs open slightly and my toes curl with anticipation. Men like Alex don’t miss these tiny nuances.
When he notices the rapid increase in my breathing and the way my legs part for him, he places his big hand on my thigh to test the waters. I don’t stop him as he moves his fingers upward and toward my throbbing core. Not until he slides beneath my shorts, right at the seam, do I think we’ve gone too far for the second time this week.
But I don’t want him to stop.