Mr. Notting Hill, page 16
And her. It was like she was high on me.
On us.
On what our bodies could do together.
I glanced down to where we were connected—where I slid into her hot, wet pussy—and my vision blurred. She was so beautiful. Her heart, every angle of her body. I’d never known a woman could be so fucking compelling, could have me coming undone like this. There was no part of her I didn’t want to possess.
She reached for me, fingering the beads of sweat gathered at my hairline. She wanted to possess me too. I could feel it. See it in her eyes.
“Parker,” I said, wanting her to know that I knew how she felt—like I wouldn’t stop fucking her if a hurricane tore through the building. Like there had been nothing close to this feeling my entire life and I knew there never would be. Like nothing could tear us apart.
“Tristan,” she called out, her voice full of concern.
I’d been too rough. Fuck, it was like I was trying to nail her to the bed. Her nails bit into my shoulder and she bit down on her lip and I realized, far from me going too far, I’d pushed her right to the edge of her orgasm.
Her entire body began to shake and I couldn’t stop. Instinctively, I knew that she wanted me to keep fucking her, deeper and deeper. Silently she cried out, her back arched and her entire body shook.
I stilled, the blood in my veins dancing with impatience.
“I need more,” she whimpered.
Fuck. I knew it. She wanted what I wanted. She needed what I needed. We were twinned. Aligned. We were bloody perfect for each other.
I plowed into her again, fast and deep, as if I were mining for her very soul.
She started to shake again, her body contracting around my cock. So soon?
“More. Don’t stop,” she cried out.
I clamped my hands over her shoulders and kept fucking and fucking and fucking until it was like I’d run out of oxygen. A flash of white light tore through the room like lightning, a guttural roar ripped out of my throat, and pain bit into my muscles. Something buried deep inside me, that had been sleeping for a lifetime, had been awoken. My orgasm stretched into life, rumbling deep inside me, then chased through my body. I’d never felt anything like it.
Parker began to shake underneath me again and I collapsed onto her, needing to be closer, wanting to protect her and share with her everything I was feeling.
She sighed and I moved to her side, suddenly worried I had squashed her.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Think so.”
I swept my hand down her body. We lay like that until I could summon up the strength to move. I grabbed a bottle of water by the bed, unscrewed the cap, and held it out for her.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
I set down the water, moved around the bed and pulled her up so she was leaning against my chest. Then I held the bottle to her lips. She took a sip. And another.
“You’re amazing,” I said. She really was the most extraordinary woman I’d ever met. Not only was she deliciously sexy, but she was so much more. She was insightful. She was strong, sweet, and vulnerable. She was kind and clever and thoughtful. It made me want to be all those things too. I wanted to be good enough for her. She deserved a man who would strive to be her equal. A man who’d take care of her.
“I can hear you thinking behind me,” she said after a few minutes. “Penny for them?”
“We need a shower,” I replied.
She shook her head. “I can’t make it.”
I scooped her off the bed and carried her through into the bathroom, then set her on the built-in bench in the shower.
She looked exhausted. As if I’d wrung her out and there was nothing she had left to give. Once the water was warm, I stepped a couple of feet away, grabbed some shampoo, and lathered my hair. I’d wash myself and then her. Then I’d wrap her in a towel, dry her and dress her. She wouldn’t have to lift a finger. I rinsed off my shampoo and then set about soaping my entire body, massaging the overworked muscles as I worked my way down my body. As I got to the base of my stomach, I glanced over to find her watching me. A hint of something in her eyes made me stop.
I knew that expression.
She was as insatiable as I was.
Despite the rush of the shower, I could hear her heavy breaths. She liked to watch. She wanted to know what happened next. I didn’t take my gaze from her as I pushed my hand down and circled the base of my cock. Her pupils dilated and her tongue darted out and licked her lips. Fuck, she was so sexy. Slowly, I began to drag my fist up and around my length, massaging the soap along my hardening erection.
I continued to watch her take in the sight of me stroking myself up and down, rounding over my crown and changing the angle as I grew harder.
She snaked a hand down her body and between her legs and I groaned, tightening my fist. She really couldn’t get enough. Her fingers dipped between her folds and she parted her knees.
I stepped toward her. I didn’t want to miss anything.
My skin buzzed as the water fell. I knew I could stop touching myself and still come like a freight train watching her break apart, but it wouldn’t be as good. It certainly wouldn’t be as good as being buried in her.
I released myself and her gaze shot to mine. She must have known what I was thinking as she moaned out, “Please . . .”
I pulled her to her feet, spun her around, had her kneel on the bench and placed her palms on the marble of the shower wall.
I was so hard, just the spray of the shower on my shaft made me tighten my jaw and hiss through my teeth. I needed to fuck. I needed to fuck her. My animal instincts took over. I pressed my front against her back and sank into her.
Oh, the relief.
It had just been minutes since the last time I was inside her, but it felt like a lifetime of wanting had been for this moment. I placed my hands over hers and buried my face in her neck. I wanted to get as close to her as I could, our bodies melded together like we were one person. I started to move slowly, wanting to take my time so these moments would last forever. I couldn’t ever have imagined myself being so fucking full of adoration for someone else. So fucking needy for more of her, desperate to give her everything I had. It was almost overwhelming.
I linked my arms around her waist and pulled her closer still.
Our movements were slow and sleepy as we both seemed equally content to stretch these minutes into hours.
“You always feel so good,” she whispered.
“You make me feel so good,” I whispered back.
She twisted her hips as if trying to drive me deeper, trying to get closer. It was like a daylong rain shower had suddenly morphed into an impending storm. The beginnings of my orgasm had rumbled into life like a distant clap of thunder.
“Parker,” I groaned out.
She pulled away from me and swiveled to face me. Taking my face in her hands, she guided my face down, pressing her lips to mine, pushing her tongue between my lips to meet mine in a way that said she was half drunk on lust.
I knew the feeling.
I reached behind her thighs and lifted her, pressing her back against the wall before ramming into her, high and fast. She cried out as if it were the first time she’d ever felt me inside her. I didn’t know what it was about this woman, but she always knew exactly how to rachet up my lust and desire.
My hands underneath her, my fingers found her folds and she gasped. She pressed her hands into my shoulders and pushed herself flat against the wall as if she were trying to create some distance between us, like she thought she couldn’t handle the onslaught of sensation.
But she would.
“Tristan,” she called out.
“It feels so good, doesn’t it?”
She began to shudder and writhe right in front of me, impaled on my dick. I was doing that to her. I was making this phenomenal woman feel like the sun was rising just for her and that felt fucking incredible.
The waves of her orgasm brought me to the brink and despite denying myself the orgasm of the fucking century, I pulled out just before I came.
She reached around my chest and I wrapped my arms around her neck, and we held each other, letting the spray cover us as we recovered.
Although I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to recover from Parker Frazer.
Twenty-Five
Parker
It felt like I had a thousand tiny bruises all over my body. Not that Tristan wasn’t careful with me—he was, but I’d never had so much sex in my life. I couldn’t go near him without wanting to touch him and touching him led to more touching, which led to naked touching, which led to my body feeling like I’d been run over.
“You look beautiful.” Tristan squeezed my hand as we stood on Gabriel and Autumn’s doorstep. “You have nothing to be nervous about.”
“These people have known you forever and love you. I know I’ve met them before, but that was different. We weren’t . . . I didn’t care before. Now I want them to like me.”
“They will like you. Because I like you.”
I groaned. “That’s a terrible thing to say! I want them to like me because I’m a likeable person, not just because—”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” He turned me toward him and cupped my face in his hands, my anxiety draining away. I was safe, without a care in the world. “They’re going to like you because you’re kind and funny and a great listener, and for all the reasons I like you. Not just because you’re my wife. That’s what I meant.”
“Well, when you put it like that, maybe it’s okay.” I grinned up at him like he’d just said exactly the right thing. Because he had. “Do they know that we’re . . . whatever we are?”
He knew without me having to explain what I meant. “I imagine so. They know most things about me before I realize it.”
I laughed. “The best kind of friends.”
“You’re going to have to stop wearing lipstick so I can kiss you without looking like I’m into drag.”
I shook my head. “Not going to happen.”
Autumn threw open the door, looked at Tristan then at me, then at our joined hands, and squealed. “I knew it.” She gathered us both in a hug before releasing us and racing into the house. “Gabriel! Hollie!” she called over her shoulder. “I told you it would happen in Mexico. They’re holding hands.”
“Does she know we can hear her talking about us?” I asked.
“The good thing about Autumn is that whatever she’s thinking comes out of her mouth. And the bad thing about Autumn is that whatever she’s thinking comes out of her mouth.”
We wandered into the living room, where Gabriel, Dexter, Hollie, and Autumn were all staring at us.
“I’m so excited for you guys,” Autumn said. “You seem so perfect together.”
“Autumn,” Gabriel practically growled, “leave Tristan and Parker alone. If they want to talk about it, they’ll talk about it.”
Autumn looked at us hopefully. “You want to talk about it? Please God, tell me you want to talk about it.”
“I’m hungry,” said Tristan, taking a seat and pulling me down on the sofa next to him. “And Parker and I are a real couple now. We’re taking each day as it comes.”
That was short and to the point. Hopefully the explanation would satisfy everyone and we could focus on having a pleasant evening.
Hollie sat and sucked in a breath, clearly trying to decide whether or not she had something to say. My heart sank when she began to speak. “But there’s no reason why you have to get divorced in ninety days, is there?” she asked. “If you’re a couple, and you’re happy, why would you get divorced?”
“Exactly,” Autumn said, taking a seat next to her sister. “You’d only have to go and get married again later.”
“Which could be fun.” Hollie and Autumn exchanged a mischievous glance.
They didn’t need anyone else to participate in their conversation.
“You two are going to get deported if you don’t watch it,” Tristan said.
Gabriel stood up. “Yeah, you should both be careful, because if anyone can make it happen, it’s Tristan. He’ll put you on Interpol’s most-wanted list and you’ll end up in a maximum-security prison serving life sentences.”
“Do lifers get conjugal visits?” Autumn asked, squeezing Gabriel’s bottom as he passed in front of her. “Did I mention I made sticky toffee pudding and it looks phenomenal?”
I could barely keep up. We’d covered our relationship, prison regulations, and baking in a two-minute window.
Gabriel came back into the living room, carrying a tray of champagne glasses. “I thought we’d celebrate the happy couple,” he said, easing the tray onto the coffee table.
The happy couple? I supposed there were two of us, and we were happy. I took a glass and clinked it against everyone else’s.
“How’s that table coming on, Gabriel?” Tristan asked.
“I’ll show you if you like,” he said.
Tristan slid his hand around my waist. “I’m just going to have a look at something in Gabriel’s workshop. You want to come?”
“I’m okay here,” I said, although I wasn’t quite sure if that was true. He pressed a kiss against the side of my head and stood.
“Tell us all about Mexico,” Hollie said as the door closed behind Gabriel and Tristan. “I’ve always wanted to go.”
“It was beautiful,” I said. “The beaches were incredible.”
“Tristan’s so attentive to you,” Autumn said. Her eyes were bright and excitable, and she kind of bounced in her seat when she talked. “It’s adorable. I just knew he was going to fall hard when he finally found someone worthy of him. He’s such a great guy and so clever and perceptive. It was clear the player stuff was just an act until he found someone he really cared about.”
“Player stuff?” I asked.
“She didn’t mean player—Autumn, did you?” Hollie asked.
“Sorry, no. Tristan is just always super flirtatious. Like, I think it’s almost an addiction or some kind of game to him. He likes female attention and he’s very good at . . . getting women to fawn over him.”
Fawn over him? Is that what they thought I was doing? I took a breath. I wasn’t sure why I was in the middle of this conversation, but it didn’t feel good. Tristan and I hadn’t known each other long, but it felt like I knew who he was. I didn’t want two near-perfect strangers telling me something about my husband that I didn’t already know. I needed to be able to trust that the man I saw was the man he was. I’d had enough men pretending to be people they weren’t to last me a lifetime.
“Autumn, you’re making him sound like an asshole. And he’s not. He’s just flirtatious and he’s never seemed particularly set on being a one-woman guy—”
I jumped to my feet, too uncomfortable to stay seated. “I think I’d like to see Gabriel’s workshop after all.”
“Oh God!” Autumn said and she rushed to the door. “Tristan! Come back here. I’ve upset Parker.”
I tried to take some deep breaths. I was sure Autumn and Hollie were trying to be kind by pointing out how my relationship with Tristan was different from any he’d had before, but characterizing him as a flirtatious player wasn’t the way to do it.
Tristan appeared in the doorway. “I was gone two minutes. What did you two do?”
“I called you a player,” Autumn said. “I was trying to say you’re different with Parker, but it came out . . . sideways.”
“It’s fine,” I said. I just wanted everyone to stop talking.
“And I was trying to say how nice it is to see you reformed,” Hollie said.
“Fucking hell, you two. Bloody Americans. I want to talk to Parker, privately.”
“No,” I said. “I’m fine.” I didn’t want to blow this up into some big drama.
“I’m so sorry.” An alarm started ringing in the kitchen and Autumn ran past us both. “Shit, it’s the chicken. Gabriel,” she called out, “your dinner is burning!”
“Is this too much for you?” he asked. “It’s not like this with Stella. She’s less . . . boisterous. We should have gone to dinner at Beck’s place.”
“They’re in Barbados,” Gabriel said, striding out of his workshop. “You’re stuck with us. Come eat some burnt chicken and we can unpick whatever Autumn has done.” He guided us to the dining room and I let him, despite the fact that I had my metaphorical running shoes half laced up.
Tristan sat on the shiny oak bench and I slid in next to him. I felt like we were about to embark on group therapy, but I just wanted to forget everything. Autumn and Gabriel piled dish upon dish upon dish on the table, handed out plates, and everyone began to help themselves.
“Okay,” Tristan said. “So what exactly did you say, Autumn? Let’s deal with this.”
Autumn and Hollie were like a double act, relaying what they had said to me in the living room. “It was meant to be a compliment,” Autumn said.
Tristan shook his head. “I’m a pretty laid-back guy. I don’t mind being roasted by you lot. I can take your jabs and your jokes.”
“Yes,” Hollie said. “You’re lovely.”
Tristan ignored her and continued. “But there are some things that I’m not laid back about. I’m not laid back about work. I’m not laid back about anyone who hurts my family. And I’m not laid back about people weighing in on Parker and me.”
My stomach somersaulted at the idea that I was some kind of exception in Tristan’s life.
“We weren’t trying to hurt her, Tristan,” Hollie said.
“Honestly we weren’t,” Autumn added.
“I know you meant well. You both have good hearts, but despite the fact that we’re married, Parker and I are still getting to know each other.” Tristan was calm but firm in his tone.
He squeezed my leg. “I’ve always been a flirt. I’ve always liked women. That’s not to say I was shagging everything in London.”
It felt like the entire table was watching for my reaction. I wanted to slide off the bench and under the table. “I flirt,” Tristan continued. “Or I used to. I was single a long time before you.”
