Jessica’s [POV]
“Time to get up, Jess.”
“What time is it?” I ask, my eyes still closed.
“Eight o’clock.”
“Is the house on fire?”
“No.”
“Then why the hell are you waking me up at eight o’clock on a Saturday?” I growl, pulling the pillow over my head.
“Haven’t you heard the saying the early bird gets the worm?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been a big fan of worms.”
“Well, I promise to look up a more appealing expression.”
“You won’t shut up, will you?”
“Not a chance.”
“Fine, give me half an hour.”
I hear the door slam shut but don’t move. Then something stirs me to life. The smell of coffee. I raise my head, and sure enough, a cup of coffee is on the nightstand next to the bed. I am confused for a few moments, wondering how it got here. Then it hits me. Parker brought it. I sit up straight, and as I take a sip, a warmth that has nothing to do with the hot coffee spreads through me. He didn’t even say anything. This silent gesture on his part means almost as much to me as his kisses last night.
I dress quickly in some jeans and a sporty sweater I had the good sense to stuff inside my bag last night, and half an hour later, I make my way through the house, walking deliberately slow, so I can inspect the paintings hanging seemingly everywhere. My heart jolts a few times as I recognize paintings by several world-famous artists.
“Thanks for the coffee,” I tell Parker when we’re in the car. It’s a beautiful August day, and I can’t wait to enjoy it with this handsome man. “So, where are we going?” He’s wearing a light blue fitted shirt and jeans, looking just as godly as ever. The short sleeves emphasize his toned arms and chest. Decidedly, Parker can’t look anything but drop-your-pants hot no matter what he wears.
“I’ve scheduled us for golf at my club.”
My face must have dropped, because Parker quickly asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Golf? That sounds so. . . boring.”
Parker frowns. “I always play golf on Saturdays. I even did it last week at Helen’s.”
“Oh my God, I wonder what would happen if you’d do something else on a Saturday? I’m sure the entire Parker system would collapse. And then the world as we know it would end.”
“All right, point taken,” Parker says, shaking his head.
“Let’s go to Hyde Park,” I say.
“Why?”
“Umm. . . to hang out? Also, I’m hoping to make some progress with my squirrel.”
“You-what was that, again? It sounded like you want to make some progress with your . . . squirrel.”
I blush. “There are a lot of squirrels there, and they come near you if you feed them. Once when I was feeding them I noticed that one squirrel wouldn’t come close at all. I think she’s afraid of people. But I did manage to make her come a tiny, tiny bit closer after a few trips there,” I say proudly.
“How often do you go there?”
“Oh, I stop by after work sometimes.”
Parker nods. “Hyde Park it is, then. Just enlighten me on this: how is feeding squirrels more exciting than playing golf?”
“Squirrels are cute. Whenever I think of golf, creepy old men come to mind.”
“Do I look like a creepy old man to you?” Parker asks in mock indignation.
“Are you telling me everyone at the golf club looks like you? By all means, head to the club then,” I joke.
“So much for your squirrel . . .”
“Stop saying it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to say something else instead.”
Parker chuckles. “You have a dirty little mind, you know that?”
“Mmm, are you complaining?”
“Not really. I had something in mind for this morning. But, well, Hyde Park isn’t exactly the best place for shagging.”
The need to laugh overtakes me so violently that I can’t stop the laughter bubbling out of my chest.
“What’s so funny?”
“I . . . am . . . sorry,” I say, almost out of breath, still giggling. “That word-whoever came up with it should be sued. No one can make shagging sound sexy. Not even you, Parker. I’ll never understand why you Brits insist on using it. There are tons of other words that sound better. Hell, even ‘fornicating’ sounds better.”
He slows down the car at a red light, then leans into me. “How does fucking sound?”
“Much better. You know what, let’s head to the golf club, and we can head to the park later on. You’ve made me curious.”
Also, he’s been going with me on my exploration trips, so it’s only fair.
***
Parker
“How do you know which one is your squirrel?” I ask a few hours later, staring at the group of squirrels huddled around the tree, as Jessica gently throws crushed biscuits in their direction.
“Oh, it’s easy. She’s missing one of her tiny legs so she humps a bit when she moves. She’s also a bit apart from the group. There she is.”
For the next half hour, I watch her engaging in a back-and-forth game with the squirrel. Jessica waits for the squirrel to come closer, with her hand stretched. Not that the tiny animal makes her job easy. Whenever Jessica takes a step forward, it retreats. But Jessica waits patiently, starting the whole game again.
Taking Jessica to the golf club was one of the smartest things I did in a long time. Usually, I go there for business, but today it was pure fun.
“What d’you reckon happened to her leg?” I ask.
Jessica shrugs. “I’m guessing someone hurt her, judging by how afraid she is of people. She just needs a bit of reassurance, and then she’ll be fine.”
Watching her so determined to fix the little squirrel, I can’t help wondering if that determination also extends to people. Me, for instance. I never thought I needed fixing. Or rather, I thought I was unfixable. But I’ll be damned if I’m not starting to change my mind. She’s changing my mind. I watch her smile widen, illuminating her features as she takes another step toward the squirrel, and this time the animal doesn’t back off. Jessica’s eyes lighten up, and suddenly energy pours off her again, forming something like a bright halo around her. Beneath the self-confident woman I met all those months ago lies much more than I imagined: a fascinating mix of innocence, fragility, and strength.
I want to protect her and make sure nothing-or no one-hurts her again. I want her to give herself to me every night the way she did last night, and I want to watch her wake up every day.
Simple things like randomly walking through a park have never made much sense to me unless there was a purpose behind it. With her, they do make sense. I don’t care if I have to do birdwatching or watch her feed squirrels if it means I can spend time with her.
“Mission accomplished,” she says, straightening up. “She’s fed now. Let’s get some food for ourselves.”
“You can still eat after that food festival last night?”
“You worked me out pretty intensely afterward,” she says seductively, putting her fingers suggestively on my chest.
My cock instantly throbs in my pants as I pull her toward me, putting my hands on her perfectly shaped arse. Just thinking of touching her naked makes me groan.
“I like seeing you dressed informally,” she says. “Reminds me of how you were in California. You didn’t go suited up to work most of the time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? And I’m not at fault for the fact that Americans have such a lousy dress code.”
“Well, you look less like you have a stick shoved up your butt when you’re like this. And you were so much looser back then.”
“I suppose I was more relaxed. James is the face of the companies we own in the US, and no one there gave a damn about all the drama going on here.”
“What drama?” she asks.
“I don’t want to ruin this day talking about it. So you liked me more in California, huh?”
“Hmm . . . you were up for more fun. But at least now you’re up for a good shag.” She giggles. “And you’re still hot. Thank God for that.”
“This is the second time you’ve hinted you like me just for my looks. I might start feeling offended.”
“Oh no, I can add a few other things. I like the paintings in your house, your friends, and your taste in presents. You didn’t seriously think I liked you for your shining personality, did you?” She grins.
We each grab a pastry from a nearby vendor and walk deeper inside the park. The alleys we choose are almost deserted, and I like it this way. After she’s done with her food, Jessica rumbles in her bag, retrieving a pack of cigarettes.
“You’re going to smoke?” I ask.
She looks at me in surprise, the cigarette already between her full lips. She smiles. “And why shouldn’t I?”
“It’s not healthy.”
She rolls the cigarette between her lips, leaning with her back against a tree.
“You sound like Serena.”
“I mean it.”
“Okay. I know you can probably recite ten statistics that smoking reduces lifetime expectancy by I don’t know how much, but none have been very convincing. I’ll be old, cranky, and useless. What’s the point of living a few years more or less? They won’t be worth much anyway.”
She looks up at me with her round, doe-like eyes, and for a moment, I lose all sense of where we are. My brain must have lost all reason as well because I can’t find another explanation for coming up with the corniest line ever. “I promise I’ll make them worth it.”
Bugger.
I cringe and try to think of something clever, fast, so I can turn it around and make it sound like a joke or something when she starts laughing. But Jessica doesn’t laugh, and I breathe relieved, because-I realize to my surprise-I didn’t mean it as a joke at all. A pink tint colors her cheeks, and she takes the cigarette out of her mouth, dropping it in her bag.
“Well, as far as arguments go, that’s more convincing than statistics,” she says, and I’m delighted to hear a slight tremor in her voice. I run my thumb over her lips and pull her into a kiss. I tug at her lip with my teeth, greed overtaking me, and then I pound her sweet mouth with desperation. Slinging my arms around her, I pull her closer to me, kissing her deeper.
When I stop for air, I have an uneasy feeling that she’ll ask for more words; press me for. . . more. Since I barely understand what the hell just went on, I’m in no position to offer more. But she doesn’t ask for more than I can give. She pulls me into another kiss, and I give her all I have with this kiss, all I can’t put into words. A need awakens inside me within seconds, one that is all too familiar whenever I’m around her. I run my hands down her delicious arse, pressing her body against my hard-on.
She sighs in my mouth, and I lose all self-control in that sweet yet savage way only she can make me lose it.
“I need to be inside you,” I say.
“That could be a bit problematic, seeing as we are in a park.” I feel goosebumps forming on her skin under my touch. She wants this as much as I do.
“I can drive fast.”