"I didn't. I never wanted anyone to come here. That's actually why I returned here so often. It was so far away that no one ever came here to bother me."
"You came here on your own?" I ask, stricken. "To do what?"
"Think, read . . . work when I got older. Get some peace."
But it's so lonely here, I want to say. Then I remember Helen's words. Parker doesn't trust many people. Those around him haven't proved to be very trustworthy.
A chill passes through me as I recall what Dani said. Parker's dad died when he was seven. That's old enough to acknowledge it... and young enough to be irreparably hurt by the loss. How come he was able to go away on his own for hours at a time to come here when he was eight? Wasn't his mom, or any other adult, supervising him? Forget supervising him—just being with him, comforting him. Loving him.
I'm certain he needed that. So why was he on his own instead, and miles away from any adult? Not all parents are warm and loving; my dad showed me that. Still, I can't imagine any mother not wanting to be permanently at her child’s side after such a tragedy.
The image of an eight-year-old boy running on these boulders, where it's so easy to slip and get hurt, appears in my mind. A boy spending hours alone. A sudden urge overwhelms me, to hug that little boy and tell him he's not alone, and that his mother loves him, though it may not seem like it.
"Is there a story behind your tattoo? You tensed last night when I talked about it.”
“I’m... I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”
“But we will talk about it, eventually.”
“You’re quite demanding, mystery man.”
With one swing, he turns me in his lap so that I'm facing him. Looking me straight in the eyes, he says, "I never do things half-heartedly. Honestly, I don't know where this will lead. But if we spend more time together"—he grabs my chin, bringing my lips inches closer to his—"I want us to try and be open with each other. It’s not easy for me, and by the looks of it, it isn’t easy for you either, but I want you to promise we’ll try.”
“Okay, I promise. But... we’ll take it slow?”
“We’ll take it slow.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, then cups my cheek in a gesture so tender and loving that it fills every part of me with a warmth I've never felt before. He starts kissing my neck, pull
ing me tighter in his lap. I feel the bulge in his jeans against my groin.
“I know something at which we’re not slow.”
"Sex on the rocks?" I ask. "Well, I've had whiskey on the rocks, screwdrivers, and a bunch of other drinks on the rocks, but never sex."
"Time to change that, don't you think? No one will see us here."
In reply, I lean forward and kiss him hard, tugging at his lower lip with my teeth. And as Parker's fingers find their way under my shirt, twisting my hardened nipples, I realize he already opened up a bit. He brought me here, to this place that was his and his alone. He’s already shared a piece of him with me.
Parker gently lays me on my back, takes off the jacket and unzips my shirt slowly, then unfastens my bra. After leaving me topless, runs his tongue on the valley between my breasts, then takes one of my nipples between his lips, doing exquisite things to it.
"I want you, Jessica," Parker grits out, his hands pulling down my pants and underwear. His tongue lashes against my nipples, and I arch my back as the heat spreading from the place where his tongue worships my breasts meets the wind, causing my body to shudder. Then he lowers his mouth to my exposed folds. Pleasure sears through me as his tongue caresses my sleek parts. He doesn't break eye contact, which makes the view of him between my thighs about a million times hotter.
I throw my head back when his tongue darts inside me and he starts flicking his thumb over my clit.
"This is so good," I say between breaths, closing my eyes.
"Open your eyes," he commands.
I obey, writhing as his tongue expertly licks my inner flesh.
"I want you to come all over me, Jessica," he murmurs. I wantonly buck my hips against his lips and finger.
"Parker," I cry, fighting to keep looking him straight in the eyes as impulses sizzle through me. I thrash and lose my breath as the orgasm carries me to unexplored heights of pleasure.
Parker unhitches his lips from my center, and then claims my mouth. I can taste myself on him, and it's the sexiest fucking thing I've ever done. I pull his shirt over his head, revealing the rows of defined, toned muscles. In the dim light of the bedroom yesterday, I couldn't see him properly. But now, with the sun shining high above us, I take in all his glory. I run my hand from one shoulder to the other then down his steel chest. He pulls me into another kiss, deeper than any before, as if he's determined to claim every wisp of air, every part of me.
And every secret.
Goose bumps form over my body as I unzip and push down his jeans, leaving him almost naked. Almost. Then I push his underwear down too. He fills me, gentle at first and then hard and raw, the way we both like it. His arms form a shield around me as he slams with all his might against me. As we both cry out our release, I have a wonderful and fulfilling thought, which also scares me: this is a man I could share my life with.