What's Left of Me
Page 41

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. Bringing my left arm up, I wrap it around the back of his neck to hold his head in place. I don’t want to ruin this moment.
“Please come with me, Parker.”
“You don’t need to ask twice, babe.” He shifts just enough so his head turns, bringing his lips to mine. The kiss starts out slow and gentle, but not being able to take any more, I pull on his neck tighter, bringing his lips harder onto mine. He obliges, opening his mouth to me. The second it’s open, I slip my tongue inside, meeting his. He tastes sweet from the fruit we ate with our dinner, and I can’t help but want more.
Parker turns, shifting my legs over his. I like this position. Straddling him. It makes me feel in control, like I can determine what he does or doesn’t do to me. It’s unusual for me to have control in life and, with him, I get it. He’s the one thing I have control over, and I embrace it.
His hands move up and down my back until they rest at the edge of my shirt. He doesn’t move the fabric further up, but instead draws small circles on the bit of skin that is exposed, sending me over the edge into pure bliss.
I wiggle, bringing myself closer to him, and feel the hardness in his jeans press into me. He moans into my mouth and, with no control over my body, I begin to rock harder against him.
Immediately, one hand goes to my hip, helping me rock against him, while the other moves up the bottom edge of my hairline. His hips begin to move with mine in a synchronized rhythm.
“Aundrea.” Just the way he says my name can send me over the edge. It’s rough and raspy. He says it again between kisses while pulling me closer. I can feel the wetness and pressure between my thighs build and, no matter what, I don’t want to stop.
I don’t think I can stop.
Until I feel his hand move into my hair.
He grips my wig, tugging slightly, causing my eyes to pop open.
“Parker! Wait!” I shriek.
I freeze, stopping all friction that was forming between us. I don’t recall bringing my hands to his chest, but they’re there, pushing back on him. “Please, we have to stop.”
His hold loosens as I slump down. I can’t be sure if my heart is pounding from him, or the fact that he almost pulled my wig off.
I watch as he throws his head back in frustration. Rubbing his face with both his hands, he mumbles, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I got carried away.”
Sliding off his lap, I scoot away from him, putting a good distance between us. With his hands still covering his face, I take the time to run my hands over my hair, making sure it’s not falling to one side.
Just as I’m sure it’s where it should be, Parker looks at me with a sly grin. “You’re just too damn tempting, woman. You have no idea.”
I blush. I never thought of myself as tempting, but it sounds good coming from him.
“I think I should go. Can you drive me home?”
“Sure.” He stands up, adjusting himself as he does. I can’t help but smile, knowing he’s still hard from me.
“Hey, baby?”
“Yes?” Since when did I start answering to the pet names?
“About the date, to the show?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s only one condition.”
He helps me to a standing position before continuing.
“What’s that?”
“You have to go on another date with me. My choice.”
“When?”
“When I ask. You can’t think or question it.”
“I don’t know, Parker.” I can’t make commitments. With my treatments it’s hard to make any plans, let alone follow through on them.
“Please?”
“I’ll try.”
“I’ll take that.” He grabs my hand, bringing my knuckles to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to each of them.
“What did you have in mind?”
“It’s a surprise,” he says, releasing my hand back into my lap.
“I don’t like surprises.”
“Life is full of surprises.” No shit.
“Doesn’t mean I have to like them.”
“How fun is it to go through life knowing what’s going to happen?”
His words are true. The average person doesn’t want to go through life knowing everything that is going to happen to them. They like spontaneity. That’s hard for me, though. The last four years of my life have been nothing but surprises, and not welcome ones.
Surprise, you have cancer! Surprise, you need surgery! Surprise, your chemo didn’t work! Surprise, your cancer came back! Surprise, you have to be admitted to the hospital … again. Surprise, second round failed. Surprise, you need a bone marrow transplant! Oh, wait, surprise! That means you need more chemo!
Yeah, f**king surprises. They’re great.
“I just hate not knowing. The waiting. The anticipation.” It’s always the waiting for that surprise! that kills me. Literally.
“The anticipation is worth the wait, babe.”
Chapter Eleven
I tell Jean that Parker and I will be at her place around six, but she insists on meeting at the restaurant instead, saying something about her place looking more like a male strip club than your typical innocent sorority house. Without hesitation, I agree. I’m not a prude, but I don’t need to see women grinding on men in the living room as if it’s their personal stage.
Two weeks after moving into her dorm, Jean got asked to move into her sorority house. She would have been silly to turn it down. The only problem, from what she’s told me, is that there are parties there every day, no matter the time. And not the kind of parties you’d invite your parents to.