Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“They’re yours for the taking, Parker.” It doesn’t matter that she took all afternoon to get ready for our date or that I watched her line and gloss her lips for five minutes. Vanessa wants me just as badly.
“We do that, we’ll be late. It’ll take you ten minutes to fix it all over again for me to mess up.”
“Once again, we could have stayed home. I need to grab my bag, then I’m ready.” She walks to her bed and grabs the small clutch. My hand goes out to take hers once she’s back in reaching distance.
“I’ll be kissing you later, and more than your lips, baby.” I hear the deep breath of air she takes. My words turn her on. I’ll be taking advantage of the fact that my woman loves when I tease the both of us.
NINETEEN
Nessa
“Mr. Hudson, Miss Taylor, your table is ready, if you’ll follow me.” Parker’s hand is on my lower back, possessively holding me as close as possible while we walk. He was pissed when his phone rang two minutes into the ride on our way to the restaurant. He apologized, but I told him it was fine. Still, he was annoyed. The call took the entirety of the ride. My gaze was on Parker, taking in how he commanded the conversation, a dominating man in every facet of his life. When he noticed I was looking, he held my eyes while dealing with whatever catastrophe was happening on the other end of the line. Parker knew he was controlling the situation like he does in any and all things. The fact that we had someone driving us to dinner, no partition in place, was the only thing holding me back from launching myself at him, or for him to demand me to take my panties off and sit on his cock. I would have, too, very easily, since this dress is another skin-tight one where lines would be visible even with the lace overlay.
“Parker,” I utter his name so low that the maître ‘d won’t hear us. I’m noticing that as we walk by the other guests, most have stopped what they’re doing. There’s no talk, no eating. It’s almost pure silence, which is odd for a place like Emilio’s. The reason I love this place besides the food is also the atmosphere. It’s light, not like the stuffy places you’re accustomed to when it comes to money.
“You okay?” he asks, understanding, squeezing my side as we’re taken to the back of the restaurant, where the crowds aren’t so thick.
“Here’s your table. Please enjoy your night at Emilio’s,” we’re interrupted. Parker holds the chair out of me. It’s soft, supple, and on wheels. A great idea because with the amount of food everyone seems to consume as well as the unique drinks and rich wines, I’ll need it in order to push away from the table. A definite necessity, at least for me.
“Thank you.” I situate myself, waiting for Parker to take his seat across from me. I take the opportunity to look at the man who steals my breath, makes me dizzy with need, and while we only met this week, I know he’s the man for me. His eyes hold a hunger in them as he moves his hand across the small intimate table. I give him mine, locking our fingers together. The one thing missing since our time earlier this morning is the stubble along his jawline. It’s gone. I loved that when he kissed my collarbones, my lips, or between my thighs, I was left with the feel of a beard burn along my skin. He’s wearing another custom Brioni suit perfectly tailored for his body, this one a dark gray supple fabric with a black shirt beneath. Parker wears the suit; the suit doesn’t wear him.
“Tell me, Vanessa, what were you going to tell me?” he nudges again. My head tips to the side. The restaurant has gone back to eating and talking. I’d be a fool not to see that quite a few people have their phones out, pointing them in our direction.
“Is it always this way when you go out?” I ask. My father may be a billionaire himself, but we never had to worry about cameras flashing or people gossiping as we walked into a restaurant. Which is exactly what just happened, along with the stares. Talk about different worlds. That’s more than likely because my parents shielded me from the press, staying in their bubble and not stepping out of line in any way, meaning I didn’t either. A rebellious teenager I was not, a rule follower to the core in any and all things, a lot like my father minus his techy side.
“Babe, I don’t go out enough. I leave the publicity shit to Ezra, Theo, and Boston. I’ve had my fill more than enough when we first broke out, hitting the fortune five hundred our first year as Four Brothers was a shit show. Our lives were ripped to shreds. Nothing was left out from our pasts. It’s a wonder we’re all still standing. Our bond is what it is because of it, and it taught me a lot of valuable lessons along the way.”