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Many thanks to my editor. You know who you are!
Hope this story was worth 'weighting' for! It is the un-cut, un- sensored version. Told in first person from Miss Parker's point of view.
Can't Weight To See You Again
by Patricia D
He walks out of the bathroom dressed only in briefs. His skin moist from showering and smelling of cologne. His thoughts are so focused on his latest pretend he doesn't notice me sitting in the chair. As he walks by my eyes sweep over his well muscled body, admiring how the briefs hug and cup his butt. The way the material curves over the bugle in front.
"Hello Jarod." My voice purrs.
Looking up, he suppresses his surprise. I sit with a gun trained on him, a smile on my face. Picking up a long sleeved white shirt, he acknowledges my presence while pulling it on.
"Miss Parker. How long have you been there?"
"Long enough. You won't be needing the shirt. Over there now." My voice stern as I motion towards the bed with the gun. He moves to the bed and sits down. His eyes look from me to the heavy chain he had used to secure his bike. It now is wrapped around the metal frame of the bed. A pair of hand cuffs lay next to the chain, one cuff secured through the end links, the other cuff open.
"Put the cuff around your right wrist Jarod." He hesitates for a moment. "Do it!" With a look of disgust he snaps it shut.
"So what do you plan to do with me? Rape me?" His words are half in jest but he may be closer to the truth than he thinks. He now sits on the bed, legs straight out in front of him, back against the wall and a look of smoldering anger.
"Maybe...maybe not. Let's see your wrist." My voice low and sexy as he jerks his hand up to show that he is indeed secure.
"Good. Very good." Laying the gun down out of his reach I stand up, slide my jacket off and approach the bed. My eyes never leave him as they inventory his body. Slipping the shirt back, my hands flow smoothly over his shoulders and chest before coming to a stop. Long fingers tipped with red nail polish dance on his chest then drift over to explore one of the hard nipples. Rolling it between my fingers I tip my head to one side giving him a mischievous smile before leaning forward to lightly lick it. He tires to resist, grabbing my hair and pulling me away but it only directs attention to a new unexplored area. The hands have now found their way down the chest, across the abdomen and over the bugle in the briefs.
"Do you remember the time when we were teens and I pulled you into the corner away from the security cameras?" As my eyes search his face it's clear he does.
"And do you remember what we did?" My hands now grasp the top of his briefs, pulling them down, guiding him down with them. With the briefs on the floor, my fingers once again run the course of his chest, across his firm abs this time ending with one hand grasping his hard penis. Slowly bending forward my tongue begins to caress him then gently red lips start to devour him.
We both remember the incident. I had come home from school the two of us now changed. There was always a certain excitement in the air around him. And then one morning in an area that was lightly traveled I had pulled him into a corner out of sight from the security cameras. I had the same smile then as now, the same flutters. Kissing him my tongue had explored the softness of his mouth. I remember I had pulled back to look at him and was pleased with the effects of the kiss. Leaning forward to explore his mouth again my hands had found their way under the shirt, touching his bare skin. Then catching his lower lip with my teeth, I had pulled away once more. Taking his hands, drawing them under my blouse, smiling at his expression when his hands came into contact with my breasts and hard nipples. Then without warning I had pulled one of his hands down, guiding it with mine. Slipping it between the fabric of the pants and the softness of my belly, guiding it down further. Shifting my weight and slightly parting the legs, I guided one finger inside. After all these years I can still remember feeling him inside, my muscles caressing his finger, trying to draw him in deeper. The look on his face, the silent laugh that crossed mine from sharing this new found sexuality. I had leaned forward to kiss his eager lips once more while pulling him out of me, guiding his hand back out of my pants. His pants were undone before he knew it. I captured his engorged penis in my hands, dropped to my knees and leaned forward with lips parted. He had grabbed my hair, pulling me away, a look of fear on his face.
I smiled and silently mouthed the words. "I'm not going to hurt you. Trust me."
Slowly he had released my hair and I took him in my mouth much the same as now. I can remember the way he ran his fingers through my hair, pressing my head to him as he is now. From the soft moans and occasional arch of his body it's clear he remembers the incident.
My free hand now presses against his inner thigh, indicating I want him to spread his legs slightly. His body no longer resists but responds willingly and the legs are spread apart. Lightly running finger tips up and down his inner thigh only increases his excitement while the mouth and tongue caress him and the teeth lightly nip. Slowly the mouth gives his manhood one last kiss as the hand continues to stroke it firmly. Rising up to look at him, he lays there with passion in his eyes, lost in the moment.
"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if Sydney hadn't interrupted us?" My voice is husky and low remembering how we had heard Sydney coming down the hall. Jarod's pants had been suddenly zipped and I had become a fleeting image going the other way.
"Suppose we find out." I expect him to fire back with a sarcastic remark but he just lays there watching. Pulling the short skirt up, revealling the tops of nylons, I straddle him, poised over his stiff erection. My heels dig into his legs and seem to ignite him. His free hand reaches up quickly unbuttoning the blouse, pushing it away and attempting to unhook the bra. With a smile I unhook it for him, my breasts spilling out of their prison. Slowly lowering myself onto him, he penetrates me, my muscles pulling him deeper inside with each thrust. I assist his hand in removing the blouse and bra until they rest on the floor with his briefs. His unchained hand roams across my body, over my breasts, teasing a nipple with his fingers.
Leaning down, slightly pulling him out of me, I cup one hand under the breast he is caressing. Then slip the other hand beneath his head pulling him to me. I can feel him take the hard nipple into his mouth, the softness of his lips and tongue around it. Slowly I release his head, lower my hips and let him plunge deep inside. As my hips move rythmically he continues to explore my body, watching as I stroke and fondle my breasts. Slowly closing my eyes, no longer in control I give in to the passion.
It's hard to say who reached a orgasm first. It doesn't matter. I now lay collapsed on top of him, enjoying the pressure of his hand stroking my back, the feel of his body under me. Wanting to make these few minutes last, to bask in the fulfillment that's taken years to happen. He stirs slightly and I raise up to look at him. A look of contentment and satisfaction show on his face.
"You've been busy since you left the Centre. Just where did you learn that? Or is it a natural talent Jarod?" The smugness I usually hide behind is gone as I ask. Only a relaxed and contented Miss Parker now lies half propped up drawing circles on his chest.
"A little of both. I had a very good teacher." He replies searching my face for answers
"Well you'll have to thank her for me." I smile. A quick check of the watch and I'm off of him headed to the bathroom with blouse and bra. Re-emerging a few minutes later almost completely dressed, tossing him the key while buttoning the blouse I'm all business once more.
"Hurry up. Unlock the cuffs and give them back with the key. I can give you thirty minutes... forty five at the most before I return with sweepers. Make sure you're gone when I come back." Eyeing the DSA case while snapping the cuffs and the key out of his hand. The gun is well hidden under my jacket and I pause at the door pointing one finger in a threatening manner.
"As far as anyone...and that includes us...is concerned, this never happened. If you tell anyone, I will deny it. Don't call me. Don't mention it. It's not our little secret. It never happened. Got it?" My voice is hard and cold.
"It never happened Miss Parker. After all..." His voice angry and dry. "Why would I tell anyone you raped me?"
I'm out the door and gone before he's finished.
Things haven't changed, I'm leaving now just as I left then. I can see it in his eyes...to him I'm as cold as the Centre, hard and unyielding. I've violated him as they have, expecting him to perform at a command. Why had he expected warmth and kindness when there was none to begin with?
Once in the car, I close my eyes and lean against the steering wheel. Thoughts drift back to that day so long ago. Bits and pieces of the conversation I overheard between Sydney and Daddy still ring in the ears. "Problem is...Miss Parker...Jarod can't focus...distraction...Miss Parker...situation needs attention."
And Syd's own little talk with me later that afternoon. I thought at first he knew what had happened but he didn't. He only suspected that it was a possibility if things weren't stopped. His stern warning that "...if you value Jarod's friendship you will leave him alone. It's a dangerous game you're playing. And it could have fatal consequences." Daddy had sent me away the next day. By the time I returned I could walk past Jarod as if he didn't exist. At first I could see the questions and hurt in his eyes. Later his eyes avoided mine altogether.
Forty five minutes have passed and I'm back as promised with sweepers. Vanished are any romantic thoughts. Now only the present is in focus as Sam kicks open the door. The apartment looks much the same as before. Seeing the DSA case missing brings a sigh of relief that he is gone. But a noise outside alerts us to his presence.
"He's in the alley Miss Parker!"
Racing down the fire escape to the alley in pursuit I yell. "Stop Jarod!"
He stops at the end and turns. But from the look on his face it's clear he'll take advantage of running to either the right or left. Aiming for the far left of him I shoot. But suddenly he's there in front of the target. Blood appears in a widening pool on his shirt and a look of horror on his face. His eyes seem to scream 'You shot me!'
Guilt engulfs as Sydney's words returns." ...dangerous game with fatal consequence." As if Sydney's spoken prophecy has come true. The siren of a Baltimore police unit is heard as Jarod starts to run.
"What do you want us to do Miss Parker?" Sam asks.
"Nothing. Let him go." Putting away my gun the sweepers do the same.
Two months later.
"Let's take a walk Miss Parker."
Why not? Everything else has gone wrong today. Jarod's hand reaches out and closes over mine until only the tips of slender fingers can be seen. My feet hurt with each step on the uneven concrete and before making it half way down the street I stop.
"Let's drive. " Pain flutters briefly across my face.
He turns with a snide remark poised on his lips that quickly changes to concern. He hails a cab from the curb of the busy street. The drive is short and soon we come to a stop in front of a house on a tree lined street where voices of neighborhood children mingle with the sounds of birds. Like the gentleman he is, he slides out of the cab then turns and reaches out to help me exit. Walking together to the fenced in yard, he pauses to open the gate and motions for me to enter. Once inside, the immaculate yard stretches before us like something from Homes and Gardens. The air is fragrant with flowers and the moist grass glistens in the sun.
"There's someone I want you to meet Miss Parker." He turns and calls out. "Nia. Nia, come here sweetie. Come here baby, there's someone I want you to meet." The heart aches as if a razor has slashed it but the look on my face remains as immobile and hard as stone. 'I can be a pretender too.' The words fall like a hammer on the ears as he continues to call. "Nia, Nia. Come here baby."
Suddenly around the corner she comes running on tiny unsteady legs, joy on her small face. His strong arms embrace and lift her into the air. Then hugging her he coos and lays kisses on the small precious head. Jealousy rears it's ugly face, jealous that the kisses and love aren't for me. Quickly anger and embarrassment follow that I would be envious of the love they share.
"Is she yours?" It's a harshly spoken question that grabs his attention.
The lower lip quivers briefly, dark eyes filled with pain burn through as he answers. "Yes... yes she is. Until I can find her a home with someone to love her. Have you ever thought..." The eyes plead and the reason for the meeting is clear. But mercy and pity aren't easily given.
"Forget it Jarod. You're not dumping a dog on me, especially not one that only has three legs!." Nia growls in my direction, teeth bared in a threatening manner.
"She needs love and a home. As for the leg, she does quite well without it. She's learned to adapt." While soft brown eyes plead and concern covers his face, anger and disgust fill mine.
"It's a Dauhshund for crying out loud. A stupid wiennie dog! I thought you would have picked something more masculine." Eyeing the left back leg which is only a stub with a bandage, the reason for his choice is clear. "Still trying to help the down trodden I see. It was bad enough when your charity cases were people, but dogs? Really Jarod!" A gun is now clasped in slender hands before me and aims for the heart. "Well it's time to go home, hero."
"What are you going to do Miss Parker? Shoot me like you did last time." The remark sears like a hot poker while the look is accusing and judgemental.
"I didn't...I didn't mean to shoot you. It was a mistake." Taking a step towards me, he hugs the dog who continues to growl.
"Please let me help you. You can trust me." His eyes plead. The voice soft and low disarms and the hands lower the gun. "Trust me, all I care about is..."
"Damn you Jarod, I'm not one of your strays!" The gun returns to it's original position. The phone rings and as I answer it a familiar voice responds.
"We got a lead on Jarod Miss Parker."
"Broots, what...what are you talking about?" Eyes now fully open, the vision of Jarod and Nia the dog are gone like mist evaporating on a sunny morning. Long legs fight their way out of the wreckage of a bed while reality impacts the drowsy brain. "Speak to me Broots. What lead?"
"Huh, it came in about an hour ago. It seems it's a late night commercial shown on a local TV station in Phoenix, Arizona. It's for a health club in Scottsdale. You can see Jarod in the background." A free hand flays the air, reaching for the night stand as the body still trying to break free from the bedding stumbles towards the floor.
"Who else knows about this?" Glancing at the clock it's five a.m. Finally free from the sheets feet move swiftly towards the bathroom, a hand grabbing clothes along the way. The clothes are deposited on top of the laundry hamper before turning on the water in the bath. "I said who else knows?"
"Lyle! How did he find out?" Cradling the phone between shoulder and cheek, the night gown slides down to become a silken pool at my feet. "Come on Broots, I'm waiting for a answer."
"He was here when it came in. That's all I know. I think he plans to leave for Phoenix without you Miss Parker." Comes the whispered answer.
Still cradling the phone while pinning up my hair I bark a order to Broots. "Well stall him damn it! And get Syd's ass out of bed and down there now!" Water from the shower drowns out his answer. Now fully awake the mind finally functioning and scheming, there is one sure way to delay dear sweet brother's departure without me... a simple call will keep the Centre's jet on the tarmac till I arrive. It'll give me just enough time to enjoy a simple morning pleasure.
Damn Jarod and Lyle. They both can wait. Sliding across the leather seat other prioritties take first place. Breathing in deeply the smell of leather greets the nose while the buttery feel of it presses against the thighs as the short skirt slides up. For the last few mornings it's been pleasure before business and there is no reason for today to be an exception. The left hand plies long even stokes across the hardness in front of me before grasping it firmly. While the right hand glides over a smooth roundness until it nestles comfortably in hollow of the palm. Red lips smile and part as a moist tongue flicks lightly across the teeth and lips. The calves of the legs flex with eager anticipation, feet sheathed in nylon and encased in black heels press down. With fingers slightly spread apart, the hand gently but firmly pulls back and the pulsating movement quickens the breath. Tensening the calves ever so slightly, legs and feet move rythmically once more as fingers now close to grip firmly before pushing forward.
Feeling the throbbing movement, a quick glance in the mirror reveales a smug pouty smile. The ankle straps of the black heels cut minutely into the flesh as the feet move once again in this sensuous dance. Then with fingers splayed, running a moist hand across the round hardness before finally cupping it in the palm to guide it back, the purr of Lyle's former Porsche is music to my ears. Poor baby, he should learn...never bet more than you can afford.
Shifting from second to third, thoughts of the last encounter with Jarod try to creep into my mind. Shifting from third into fourth the thoughts are banished. Subconsciously without thinking, no need to look at the tach, the hollow of my hand settles on the gear shift and I guide the car into fifth.
Swinging around the curve in perfect controlled motion, the damaged guard rail comes in to view. Poor little brother, he should have known better than to bet who was the superior driver. I'm not sure which was sweeter...the sight of him tangled in the guard rail or Daddy reaming his ass for demolishing a Centre vehicle. No, it was the look on the bastard's face when I held out my hand for the keys to his precious car.
The sharp click of the black heels as they meet the floor herald my presence and Broots seated behind his computer looks up with relief .
"Ah....Do you want to see this Miss Parker?"
"What do you think?" Poor Broots, my tone of voice is condescending when it should be grateful, but Lyle is hiding in the shadows. "You don't mind do you Lyle? "
He steps forward with arms crossed, a smirk on his lips.. "Not at all. I'm sure Jarod will wait for us. After all, it's almost a invitation." With a silly grin Broots plays the commercial showing a tall leggy red head extolling the virtues of fitness and health that can be gained by joining the gym. In the background with his head slightly turn and at times held down is unmistakable Jarod.
The breath is sucked in without thinking, a blush begins to burn it's way up the throat to the cheeks and the body tenses. Damn he looks good! As eyes follow each rippling muscle a strange feeling forms in the pit of the stomach. All too soon the commercial comes to a end, a quick glance to the side finds both Lyle and Broots focused on the red head.
"Let's see that again Broots. And this time can you enhance the shots of Jarod?" The simple request is meet with two pairs of inquisitive eyes. "What?"
"Ah...well yeah...I could do that....I thin . But huh ...are you sure...." Broots stumbles like the idiot he is.
"Just want to make sure it's him. I'm not going on a wild chase for a look alike! Now Broots, now." The impatient snap of fingers bring the desired results. The commercial is played again, this time Jarod fills the screen.
"Hmm, looks like life on the outside is agreeing with him." Sydney has slipped up from behind un-noticed.
"It certainly does." The comment comes out before the brain can stop the mouth. Damage control now comes into to play. "Well since you're here Syd we can go."
Leaning back in the seat of the Centre's jet the commercial plays like looped tape in the head. Each muscle as it is flexed, every ripple ...
"Are you going to be alright Miss Parker? Syd's question interrupts the commercial temporarily.
"Why shouldn't I be alright?" Standard answer to his perpetual inquiry of late.
"I thought you might be having reservations about seeing Jarod again. After your last meeting ended with shooting him, I thought.... "
"I didn't shoot him. He just got in the way of the bullet." Patient eyes that know better smile back at the answer. "If he had stopped when he was told to, no one would have been hurt Syd. Besides it was only a nick." Inwardly I cringe at the mental picture that never goes away. Jarod with blood oozing through his shirt, the look of horror on his face.
"Have you talked to him since the incident?" Damn Syd's never ending questions. Why can't he just stop?
"No He hasn't called which is just the way I like it." Inwardly I cry at the lie. There is a hidden that jumps with hope every time the phone rings then sinks with disappointment when the voice isn't his " And no Syd, I don't think about it."
"Not even this morning on the way in?'
"Not even this morning." A mask settles on the face as the heart in silence aches.
"Am I interrupting something?" Lyle's blue eyes question the shushed exchange before seating himself uncomfortably close.
"Nothing important. What did Broots find out on the woman and the gym?" Syd's quick response comes to the rescue.
"Prime candidate for Jarod's 'pretends'. Name is Susan Smith, co-owner of the Saddleback Gym and Fitness Center. Partner Terri Adams was found dead in the gym's jucuzzi three months ago with one of the female clients. Who as it turns out was Susan's room mate. Autopsy report showed alcohol, drugs... including some steroid use... the gym was already having financial trouble, uh let's see.... here it is. Rediman's Gym the competition, tried to buy out the Saddleback. Now without a partner and a scandal, the place was just about to go belly up until four weeks ago."
"Let me guess....Jarod." The words come out as a hiss.
"Right. Showed up, took a job as a personal trainer, business has never been better. Of course why anyone would want him for a personal trainer ..." Lyle's comments are blocked out as the commercial mentally replays itself.
Susan Smith 's office at the Saddleback Gym is open to everyone's view. The door and walls made of glass hide nothing and the men in the group rivet their eyes to Susan's form. And why not. Her well toned body and gracefully moves are enough to catch anyone's attention. Without hesitation Lyle forges ahead through the door and greets her with his sauve demeanor.
"Susan Smith?" The right hand outstretched and a smile on his face.
"Yes?" The red head's green eyes sizing him up.
"My name is Lyle and I..."
"We're here about this man." Taking over I hold out a picture. "We have reason to believe he's working here. Is that correct?" Her fingers brush lightly over mine when taking the picture.
"Maybe. Why are you interested?" The hard look returned is distrustful.
"He is a manic depressive who is...was institutionalized in our facility in Delaware. He escaped a few weeks ago. He is delusional at times and believes he can pretend to be anyone he wants. As long as he takes his medication he functions quite well but without it, he sometimes has a tendency for violence. We have reason to believe he came to work for you as a personal trainer. We saw the commercial you run on late night TV. We need to find him and it is urgent. " It's amazing how well I've learned to lie.
A look of hesitation clouds her face. "How can I trust you? He said someone might come looking for him."
"Call me Sydney." Syd's hand stretches out to rest on her arm and his soft voice is reassuring. "I've been Jarod's psychiatrist since he was a child. I know how convincing he can be. But it is for his own good that you tell us where he is."
The barrier breaks down. "He came here about four weeks ago. I hired him, the clients love him. He's kind and understanding. Let's them talk...makes them feel important." Sadness sweeps across her face. "He went with one of my wealthier clients to New York on her business trip. She can afford it. They should be back in the morning. I'll give you her phone number if you like."
"Would you please." Syd's fatherly smile and manner wins her over.
"Sure. Let me get Shelia's number for you." She writes something down on a piece of paper, folds it and hands it to me. She smiles then adds. "Do you mind if I talk to you alone Miss Parker?"
Sydney, Broots and Lyle file slowly out the door. Once with it shut she leans forwards with a whisper. "Jarod said to give you this."
The soft pressure of her lips on mine, her arms around me come as a surprise. It's not what I expected and feel myself respond. She pulls back and smiles "I have your number. I'll call if Jarod shows up."
"Just what the hell was that?" Lyle questions as we leave the gym.
"Miss Parker next time you decide to play psychiatrist you should check your facts. You could have put us in a very precarious position back there with..." Sydney begins.
"She bought it didn't she? If I had left things up to the three of you we'd still be there with your eyes glued to her body." I snap walking briskly towards the car we arrived in.
"That's not what I mean and you know it!" Comes Lyle's angry reply.
"If you're talking about what that little exchanged between what's her name and myself, forget it!" A blush burns at the base of my neck, a strange mix of emotions rush through the brain. Approaching the car the perfect opportunity to change the subject presents it's self. "Sam stay here and keep this place under surveillance. If you see anything that might look like Jarod I want you to call me."
"Yes Miss Parker." Sam moves uncomfortably in the hot car.
"And where are you going to be?" Lyle asks.
"I'm going back to the hotel, take a shower and eat." Then turning to look back at the building I whisper. "I don't trust her. "
Emerging from the steamy bathroom while pulling the silk robe over damp skin a soft dud heralds the arrival of a pair of hand cuffs thrown at my feet.
"You know the drill Miss Parker. Put them on."
"Jarod, what are you..." The look in his eyes silences the words. "And if I don't? What's to keep me from screaming?" Moving slowly towards the dresser for my gun.
"You won't scream. And if you don't put on the cuffs...Forget about your gun, I have it. See? Now pick up the cuffs and put them on." Displaying the gun dashes hope and the roughness of his voice sends a chill through me. Slowly picking up the cuffs, first closing one over the left wrist then attempting the right, a strong hand reaches out and finishes the job.
"Is this your way of getting back at me for shooting you? I thought your MO was to do the same scenario to the perpetrator as he or she did to the victim." A poor attempt to stall for time.
"I am doing the same thing to you that you had in mind for me only with one major difference." The look on his face is frightening , bitter anger and hate.
"I never meant to shoot you. If you had just gone the other way..." Why are these words being spoken? Is it fear or the strange attempt to confess and find relief from the never ending nightmares?
"Really Miss Parker. Do you expect me to believe that? Especially from a woman who carries a Colt 45 cocked and locked, just waiting for the moment to capture me like a wild animal?"
"I would have preferred my Smith and Wesson but the Baltimore police still have it thanks to you."
Placing the gun out of my reach he moves closer speaking in a low voice. "You really shouldn't play with guns. People can get hurt." Without the advantage of wearing heels having to look up feels strange. A hand slides the robe off one shoulder then trails across to the other. A reminder of the previous event before the shooting.
"I told you to leave, gave you more than enough time.You never should have stayed Jarod." A hand reaches up and grabs my hair. He pulls so hard it hurts and a tiny cry of pain escapes.
"Yes you told me to leave...after you took what you wanted. Then you tossed me to the side like a piece of garbage. You and the Centre...once I thought there was difference but after that..." Anger fills his words.
"I gave you the chance to leave. Forty five minutes. I tried for more time. It just wasn't possible. I never wanted to hurt you." Mixed emotions cross his face at my words.
"Really Miss Parker? You think that forty five minutes is enough time to wipe away years of pain? You're the same as the Centre. Taking what you want with no regard for anyone. Would you like to know how it feels?" He roughly pulls the robe away until my breasts are exposed. His hand roams across exploring, pulling at the hard nipples. The look on his face slowly softens. His touch once rough now gentle. Moving closer he leans down to kiss my lips and places his arm behind my back pulling me close.
Still cuffed with hands in front I dare not resist. He slowly pulls back and removes his shirt. If ever there was a time to make a break this is it. But the body and mind make no attempt. Now it is my hands that explore his chest, my mouth that lightly nips and bites, my tongue that teases it way to the base of his neck. If this is revenge it certainly is sweet. The breathing has quicken, the mood charged. My hands reach out to unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants. He slides them down before grabbing my hair. Then with both hands guides me downward till I kneel before him in complete submission.
"What do you want Jarod?" I quietly ask. We both know but I want to hear it.
"You know what I want Parker." The words are spoken with difficulty. It's not everything I had expected to hear but the look on the face speaks louder than words.
Reaching up cuffed hands grasp his erect manhood, stroking the hard shaft. He quivers slightly and whispers.
"You know what I want Parker. Do it." Parting the lips slowly, deliberately taking all of him deep in my mouth. Then gently pulling back just enough to tease, catching the rim of the head with my teeth. A soft groan escapes his lips and looking up I see his head thrown back with eyes closed. I may wear the cuffs but he is the prisoner. Once again I take him in my mouth, devouring him, caressing him with my tongue.
A knock on the door disturbs us as Broots calls out. "Miss Parker are you OK?"
Jarod pulls out of my mouth as my head sinks into his thigh. A hand reaches down clutching my hair and briefly pins me there as his body shivers.
"Miss Parker? It's Broots. Are you in there?"
"What Broots?" My tone is angry. Angry because of being disrupted. Jarod pulls me up and quickly uncuffs one wrist. There is no attempt to hide the disappointment.
With a finger to his lips he instructs me. "Shh. Get rid of them."
Pulling the robe tightly close and running a hand through dishevelled hair I answer the door. "What the hell do you want?"
Broots stands there accompanied by Lyle and Syd.
"We came to get you for dinner. Remember?" Lyle says with a cocky smile. "Are you alright Miss Parker?" He reaches out and tries to push the door open further. My hand blocks his attempt.
"No I am not alright. I have a damn headache and I could care less about dinner. You go on. I'll see you in the morning." Syd looks at me as if I'm transparent.
"Do you want us to bring you something back Miss Parker?" Broots can be so dense.
Closing my eyes it's with great effort the answer comes forth without hitting him. "I know how to use room service!" Slamming the door shut before they have another chance to prolong the conversation.
The room appears empty. No sign of Jarod. Damn bastard! How can he do this to me? My body aches unfulfilled. The breasts hurt from his rough touch, crying out for more. Sinking unto the bed with eyes closed the body quivers as I turn unto my side and curl up in a protective ball..
"Don't think you're getting a reprieve." His voice whispers in my ear. A hand grabs a shoulder rolling me onto my back while pulling the silk belt from the robe. The other cuff is released and in it's place the hands are now tied. Holding my hands over my head he pins my body with his, his shirt and pants gone.
"Just what the hell do you want?" I ask in mock anger as his hand pulls back the robe.
"Revenge Miss Parker." Is his answer as his hand cups one breast and his mouth closes over the nipple.
"I'll scream." I warn as he gently sucks. His hand leaves the breast and glides down the side to rest on my hip.
"Oh you'll scream alright." He replies looking up. His knee tries to press it's way between my tightly closed legs. "Spread them Parker."
"Make me." Is challenged back but it takes little effort for him to secceed. And there is no struggle as he takes what he wants.
The clock reads 4 am. Jarod slides out of bed, slips into his clothes without a word. Pushing the pillows into a mound, I lay my head on them and watch. He moves to the door without looking back.
"Jarod, tonight..." I stop unable to ask the question. He pauses for a moment.
"You'll find your answer at the gym Parker." He's gone, only the musky scent of him lingers on the sheets.
Pushing through the doors of the gym, we march in like a conquering army. Broots and Sam on the left, Syd and Lyle on the right. And I the general pushing forward at the front.
"It's eight a.m. Miss Parker. What do you expect to find? Sam said there wasn't any sign of Jarod all night. How can you be so sure he was here?" Sydney argues.
"Maybe it's not Jarod she's worried about." Lyle's sarcastic comment stops me.
"You've got something to say, say it." Is hissed back between clenched teeth. But I already know what he's going to say. From the look on their faces this morning, it's clear they think it was Susan and not Jarod who was with me last night.
"It seems you have let other priorities take..." Lyle begins.
"Ah...ah speaking of ...ah" Broots' stutter alerts us to Susan's presence. She approaches with a smile and kisses my lips.
"I'm glad you're here. I was just getting ready to call you." She smiles seductively while ignoring the men. "There's something in my office you need to see." With a smile I reach out and take her hand. As the rest follow us to her office the silence is tense. Once there she points to a set of chrome dumbbells wrapped with ribbons and a bow.
"It was on the desk when I came in this morning. The card's addressed to you Miss Parker."
Lyle's hand reaches out and takes the card. But having only one thumb can be a disadvantage and it quickly becomes mine. I know before opening it that it holds the answer to my unspoken question.
"What does it say Miss Parker?" Broots' timid voice asks.
I read it with a smile. "Can't weight to see you again."