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Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and used
without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em... never did... never will... will never earn a penny... no infringement intended... please don't sue me... life is complicated enough these days.
Rules Of The Game
by Ginger
*Girlfriend...*
Parker's stomach soured as Lyle's words thundered in her head. Having to maintain her composure made it even tougher on her already ravaged digestive tract.
"You mean you didn't know? I find that interesting considering it's your full-time job to know what's going on in Jarod's life. That's what happens when you devote too much time to chasing ghosts and not enough time to chasing Jarod." He slid the surveillance photo across the table at her and practically beamed. "Cute, nice body, that is, if you like that type."
She glanced fleetingly at it then blinked up at him. Setting her jaw, Parker warned, "I wouldn't pull a stunt like that again. You really don't want to antagonize Jarod or he'll bury you. And we both know he can do it if he wants to. Besides, it's never a good idea to drag a 'civilian' into Centre business - it draws unwanted attention, leaves us exposed."
"Speaking of exposed, she doesn't wear much, does she?" Lyle smirked.
"I'm not kidding, Lyle, if you or Cox ever go near... what's her name again?" She knew damn well what her name was.
"Zoe."
"Whatever... if you go near her again, I will have to report to Daddy that your irresponsible, not to mention stupid, actions are jeopardizing the entire operation."
"Relax, Parker, she's nowhere to be found. Must've gone off with the Major when he" Lyle rolled his eyes, "leapt to her rescue while you and Jarod were off train-hopping with Ethan. Or else she's on the lamb with Jarod, you know, playing house with our pretender."
"No, she's not," she replied, sounding more harsh than she'd intended.
"Well, I guess you'd know, wouldn't you," he remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an important lunch engagement." He swung around in his chair and stood. "Please, feel free to stay as long as you like. Oh, and if you want to hang on to that," he gestured toward the picture on his desk, "feel free." He grinned. "I have others."
Lyle strolled haughtily across his office and pulled his jacket from the hook on the back of the door before opening it. Turning back to where Parker remained in front of his desk with her back to him, he commented, "And, to think, my instincts have been wrong all these years. I always thought he had a thing for you." With that, he stepped out of his office and closed the door firmly behind him.
Parker took a deep breath and allowed her gaze to drift down to the photo. Staring into the face of the smiling young woman, her hands balled into tight fists as the now unchecked rage churned within her. "Girlfriend," she seethed through clenched teeth, trembling as tears welled in her eyes. The sensation of moisture in the palms of her hands finally drew her back to reason.
She took another deep breath and unclenched her fists, raising her hands up to inspect the damage before calmly reaching over and grabbing a tissue to wipe her bloodied palms. "Okay," she muttered shakily, then repeated, "okay," more steadily. Straightening her stance and smoothing her hair, she plastered on a calm exterior then turned and strode determinedly out of Lyle's office, leaving the photo behind where it lay on his desk.
* * * *
"Taking Saturdays off these days, are we Jarod?" Parker whispered as she watched her prey pace nervously beside his car in a deserted corner of a parking area in the Shenandoah National Park. After a while, another car pulled up and a woman now familiar to her emerged, flinging herself into his arms.
"Well, hello there, Zoe," Parker grinned, lowering her binoculars. "Virginia IS for Lovers."
She had guessed correctly; they were taking HER car. Fortunately, Jarod was a good boy and brought along his jacket, the jacket on which she had planted a miniscule, but highly powerful and extremely accurate, tracking device. She had managed to slip into his car while he stopped off at a greasy spoon to consume what was, no doubt, a high-calorie, fat and cholesterol-laden breakfast. She would hang back a bit and let them get a head start, maybe even take a little walk and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. Even though he wasn't the one driving, and would likely be somewhat 'distracted,' Parker did not want to risk Jarod picking up on a tail, forcing her to abandon the scheme when she was so close. Besides, the lovebirds wouldn't be wandering too far afield, probably to a motel along one of the highways that ringed the park - the 33, 211, 340, maybe the 250 - so a half-hour of lead-time would be more than sufficient. All she needed to do was exercise a little patience... just a little patience. She was so close.
Good thing he's thinking with his little head today, she mused with a snicker as she practically skipped down the tree-lined path. What a glorious day to be alive!
* * * *
Pulling up in front of the motel, Parker couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, pa-leeze!" she rolled her eyes and muttered, "A hot tub in every room - could we BE any more tacky?" She wouldn't be caught dead anywhere near a hot tub... unless it was to drown someone in it. Well there's an idea, she mused. She couldn't recall the last time she'd had so much fun and found herself giggling. Yes, giggling... for the first time in recent memory.
Parking at the far end of the lot, she spotted Zoe's car in front of one of the room doors. Uh-uh, too easy, she thought as she slipped a simple gold band onto the ring finger of her left hand and plotted her strategy at the reception desk. The last thing she needed was to go barging into the wrong room, scaring the hell out of some pathetic middle manager and his bimbo secretary. She would make damn sure that when she went through that door, the right couple would be on the other side. So, back to the plan for the clerk at the reception desk, which she would have to refine depending on who was on duty... gender, age, and those little insights into personal circumstances that Parker had grown so adept at picking up.
She couldn't have gotten more lucky on that account and had to contain her smile as she entered the small motel office with the circa 1970s décor. It was manned by a lone woman, middle-aged, world-weary and, most importantly, not wearing a wedding band. Divorcee, Parker thought, perfect...
"Excuse me," she said in as meek a voice as she could muster.
"Yes," the woman replied dryly.
Parker fidgeted and looked around nervously then cleared her throat. "Um, oh God, this is so awkward," she stammered while pointedly twisting at the band she'd placed on her finger.
"Is there something I can help you with?" The woman's tone was somewhat softer.
"Y... yes, n...no, I don't know." Parker's eyes watered.
"What is it, dear?" The woman slid off her stool into a standing position.
"M... my husband," Parker choked out, "I th... think he might be here." She looked down at her feet. It ought to be against the law to have this much fun, she thought.
The woman behind the desk heaved a heavy sigh and muttered under her breath, "Always the same... no good bastards." She then motioned to Parker, "Come over here, honey."
Parker slowly stepped up to the counter and smiled shyly at the woman. Careful now, don't overplay your hand, she warned herself.
"I'm Sandy," the woman offered amiably, "What's your name, sweetie?"
"Laura," Parker answered with a tentative smile. She thought it a good name for an aggrieved wife, besides she had always sort of liked it.
"Well, Laura, what makes you think he's here?" the woman inquired in a confidential tone.
"I followed him, I mean, THEM," Parker replied bitterly as she, again, turned on the waterworks.
"Them," the woman repeated distractedly, nodding slowly as she stared off into the distance recalling a past grievance of her own.
"Will you help me... please?" Parker asked, pleading with her eyes.
* * * *
As she slowly, silently approached the door, her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that Parker feared it might be audible in the still afternoon air. Sandy had, indeed, given her Jarod and Zoe's location along with her blessing to...
*"Kick the damn door in for all I care. Happens all the time here - the management considers it a regular cost of doing business so they don't bother me about it. But it'll be a lot easier to get in with this and you wouldn't want to ruin those fabulous boots."*
"You're alright, Sandy," Parker mouthed as she soundlessly slipped the passkey into the lock. It turned with ease and, again, with little if any sound. It was as if she'd become superhuman. No, that wasn't it. She was just highly competent, more competent than they ever realized, any of them. But he'd know soon enough. She turned the knob, her heart rate slowing and confidence building with each passing second, and the door clicked open. She hesitated a moment, opening it just a fraction of an inch, and listened.
"Yeah, baby, that's it, that's it!" She heard a woman pant in a high-pitched, rather whiny tone. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head thinking there was no accounting for taste.
"W...wait a minute, did you hear something?" Parker smiled as she instantly recognized the deep male voice.
"No baby, it's nothing, just you and me here. Yeah, baby, that's it."
Sliding her hand along the upper doorframe, she was surprised to find that they had neglected to put the chain on. Ah... ah... ah... She shook her head. Such carelessness wasn't like him, then again, by the time they reached the room, all the blood had likely drained from that superior brain of his to pool in other areas. Turns out she wouldn't even have to scuff her fabulous boots. It also meant she could spring an even bigger surprise on the happy couple. Oh, joy!
Her smirk widened to a grin as she silently slipped into the room, closing the door gently behind her. Moving farther inside along a little hallway, past the bathroom, she reached up under the back of her jacket and slid her 9mm out from the waistband of her slacks. It felt wonderful in her hands; God, she loved that gun. She stopped just around the corner from where she anticipated the bed would be and effortlessly placed her hand on the wall exactly where she anticipated the light switch would be.
"Yeah, baby, that's it!" The woman's cries were becoming more urgent and she could hear Jarod's moans and grunts becoming more frenzied. Yup, she mused bobbing her head in the darkness as she leaned casually against the wall, they're well on their way... such a pity...
Parker winced at Zoe's piercing yelp and amusedly followed the frenzied movements on the bed before her. The half-hysterical woman scrambled off Jarod's lap, scurrying under the sheets as he, looking more disoriented than she had ever seen him, frantically scanned the room in an attempt to fathom what the hell was going on. All the while he desperately clutched the sheet to his waist.
"What the hell? Damn it, Parker!" He eventually shouted, looking positively homicidal. It really was too perfect.
"Hello, there, Jarod. Going to introduce me to your special friend?" she asked in an overly sweet tone as she waved her gun in the direction of the trembling woman clinging to him like a frightened child.
"How did you find me?" he seethed and Parker noticed that while he patted Zoe to reassure her, he also succeeded in somewhat loosening her hold on him.
Glancing confusedly from their assailant to her lover, Zoe asked in a shaky voice, "Y... you know her, Jarod? Who is she?"
"It's alright, Zoe. She won't hurt us." He said soothingly, issuing Parker a silent warning with his eyes.
"Who is she!" the woman demanded.
"Oh, just an old acquaintance who needs to have a few words with Jarod," Parker piped in, "alone." Bending down to pick up the woman's clothing, she tossed a few items on the bed and added, "Now, why don't you go into the bathroom and get dressed like a good girl so I can have a few words with loverboy here." Parker smiled devilishly at Jarod and had to bite her lip as he shot back the dirtiest look she'd ever seen in her life.
"NO! I'm not going anywhere!" Zoe challenged and, turning to Jarod, accused, "She's from the same place as those other two, the ones who kidnapped me, isn't she?"
"It's okay, Zoe, you'd better do what she asks."
"That's good advice, sweetie. I'd listen to him. Perhaps you haven't had much experience in this area, but it's usually a GOOD idea to carry out the wishes of the person holding the gun."
"NO!" Zoe repeated, or more accurately, screeched, causing Parker to shudder slightly and wonder how the hell he could possibly STAND the woman. Well, she mused, besides the tits.
"Jarod?" Parker intoned calmly, raising an eyebrow at him, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Never taking his eyes off the person holding a gun on them, he spoke quietly but firmly as he reached down to grab a blanket that lay folded at the bottom of the bed, "Zoe, I am asking you to please go into the bathroom and get dressed. When you come out, I'll explain everything to you, I promise." He handed the blanket to Zoe, who took the hint and wrapped it around her before sliding out of bed to begin gathering her clothing.
"But Ja..." she spun around and started to object.
"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand to silence her but not, for a second, breaking eye contact with Parker.
Groaning in protest, the woman finished gathering her clothing, moved warily past the gun-wielding intruder and stomped angrily into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly behind her.
"Cute Jarod... nice tits," Parker quipped then shot him one of his trademark smirks and, for the first time in her life, believed him truly capable of murder.
"So," he began, his voice quivering - he was obviously struggling to control his anger - as he sat up straighter in bed, "you must be feeling particularly proud of yourself today."
"I am," she replied with a slight cock of her head and cheery smile, both of which were completely sincere.
"Well, where are they?"
"Who?"
"You know who: the sweeper team, Sydney, Broots. Or maybe you left those two behind because you knew they wouldn't have the stomach for this. Well, congratulations Miss Parker, you've got me and I'll go without a fight. You can take me back, but only if you agree to let Zoe go. This doesn't have anything to do with her. But if she's hurt in any way, or incarcerated in that place, so help me I'll..."
Shaking her head and casting her eyes heavenward, Parker interrupted, "Don't get your panties in a knot... wait a minute..." she snickered and glanced in the direction of his lower extremities. To her supreme delight, he blushed slightly and briefly looked away from her. "You're not wearing any. Oh well, never mind and calm down, loverboy, nobody's taking anybody anywhere."
Raising her gun more aggressively at him, Parker slowly moved around the bed to the side Jarod occupied. Eyeing the barrel cautiously, he asked in as calm a voice as he could muster, "So, what is this about?"
It suddenly came to him that she was, indeed, alone and that realization sent his mind reeling as he feverishly attempted to work out what it meant. He searched her eyes, hoping to find a clue there, but they were unreadable. All he could see was that familiar deep blue, a blue that evoked both harsh cold and fierce heat at the same time. Fear welled within him, a fear he'd never experienced in any of their previous encounters, but it was tinged with something else, something he didn't want to acknowledge, let alone identify, but it was there all the same... excitement.
She was standing right beside him, her gun practically in his face. "Now, let's not make any sudden movements, loverboy..." He really wished she'd stop calling him that. "We don't want to mess up this pretty wallpaper, do we?"
"No, we don't," he responded grimly, scowling and looking away. A wave of disgust washed over him as he anticipated her next move, an experience made all the more unpleasant by the fact that he wasn't entirely sure at whom it should be directed.
Gracefully, in one move, Parker was kneeling on the bed, facing him and straddling his outstretched legs. She pressed the barrel of her gun to his chest, right over his heart, and the cold metal sent a shiver through his entire body. He clutched at the edge of the sheet, where it rested at mid-navel and his eyes darted nervously about the room. He couldn't bear to look into her eyes for some reason. He was afraid, of what or whom, was a question he, again, refused to ponder.
"Look at me, Jarod," she said coolly then repeated more sternly, "Look at me."
He swallowed hard and looked into her eyes - those same, cold, hard, hot, fierce blue eyes - and, probably for the first time in his life, wished that he were dead. "Yes, Miss Parker?" he sneered at her, projecting the torrent of self-loathing that had been unleashed within him.
Smiling with dry amusement, she spoke in a low voice. "I'm not here on Centre business."
"I guess not," he retorted.
"I'm here because you've broken one of the rules of the game and a cardinal one at that."
"Game?" he repeated quizzically, "What game?"
"Rolling her eyes, she huffed, "THE game!" and pressed the gun more firmly into his flesh, causing his breath to hitch.
Jarod swallowed several times in an attempt to re-hydrate his uncomfortably dry mouth then asked unsteadily, "W... which rule is that, Miss Parker?"
"The one stipulating that, as long as you remain free, you may have all the fun you like, Jarod. Hell, you might as well... you're not a young man anymore; who knows how many miles you have left on that prostate? But, and pay attention, genius, here's the important part: you must always, and I mean ALWAYS, remember that in this little drama of ours, there is only ONE RECURRING female role."
Her tone was matter-of-fact, her expression placid, and neither betrayed even the slightest hint of emotion. Jarod now found himself wishing her dead as well. At that moment, and for the first time since he laid eyes on her some 30 years before, he hated her. He hated that she had perfectly executed this little ambush; he hated her quiet resolve; but mostly he hated how in control she was... so damned in control.
"Jarod! What the fuck is going on here!"
Parker rolled her eyes and sighed exaggeratedly then stole a backward glance to see that a thoroughly pissed-off Zoe had taken up her previous position at the foot of the bed - they'd traded places really - then looked back at Jarod, smiled and shrugged. She then climbed off him, stood, casually dropped her gun on the bed, and proceeded to straighten her clothing.
For a moment he just stared at it, his eyes wide with shock. He then snapped up the gun, removed the clip, and inspected it, after which he rattled off a series of expletives so colorful that Parker stood in awe.
"Jeez, Jarod, kiss your mother with that mouth?" she taunted, "Oh, sorry, I guess not. Well, cool it anyway, Romeo, there ARE ladies present."
"It's empty," he muttered, sounding defeated, lost.
Slapping her forehead, Parker exclaimed, "I KNEW there was something I forgot to do this morning!" then grinned triumphantly before bending to retrieve Jarod's boxers, which she tossed at him with a simple flick of her wrist.
"Jarod, you didn't answer me!" Zoe whined.
"Oh, you're still here, sweetie," Parker commented dismissively before addressing Jarod, "Get dressed so you can walk Zoe to her car."
"What... what makes you think I'm leaving?" Zoe did her best to sound confident but her voice betrayed the tears that threatened to spill at any moment.
"Well, my dear, here's the thing," Parker directed her attention fully to her, "I've got good news and I've got bad news."
"Parker, please don't..." Jarod broke in but she could hear the resignation in his voice.
"Shut up, Jarod, and put your underwear on." She continued, "I think it's always best to dispense with the bad news first, don't you?" Parker didn't get an answer but could see a single tear trail down Zoe's cheek.
"The bad news is that this..." she gestured at both Jarod and Zoe, "whatever THIS is or, to be more accurate, WAS, is over. The good news is that you may now return to the bosom of your loving family. You may resume your life without worrying about your own safety or theirs. I'm sure they must miss you terribly and that you miss them." Her tone was civil - almost gracious - making the impact of her words all the more lethal.
Zoe's bottom lip quivered and the tears now flowed openly. She looked to Jarod pleadingly. Reading his expression, she choked back a sob, turned and ran out of the room, leaving the door swinging open behind her.
"ZOE! WAIT!" Jarod called after her, leaping out of bed. At some point, he had managed to put on his boxers. Brushing past Parker, he hastily pulled on his jeans, nearly toppling over in the process.
"There's no need to break your neck, Jarod. She won't get very far without this." She reached into her pocket and produced an ignition wire from Zoe's car, waving it in front of him.
His only response was a poisonous glare as he grabbed the wire. He then turned away from her and headed toward the door, picking up his t-shirt along the way and yanking it violently over his head as he exited the room.
Parker was now alone. She took a deep breath and shrugged, reaching into her jacket pocket to retrieve one final item. She then stated aloud and with complete conviction,
"Had to be done, Jarod."
* * * *
Jarod found Zoe in the driver's seat of her car, sobbing uncontrollably and pounding angrily on the steering wheel. He gently opened the door and crouched down beside her.
"It... won't...start!" she hiccuped, crying so hard she could barely catch her breath.
"I know, it's going to be alright, I'll take care of it," he said in a calming voice then reached into the car, under the dashboard, to replace the wire.
"That fucking bitch! How can you... she's evil!" she reproached, furiously wiping away her tears then glaring at him.
"I... I've known her forever, since we were kids and... she isn't... really..."
"Don't you fucking DARE try defend her to me!" Zoe shrieked, shoving him away from her so violently that he fell backwards into a sitting position on the pavement.
Dazed, he didn't speak for a minute or two but then offered miserably, "I'm sorry... it's just that you... you don't understand."
"Don't understand! What's to understand? I saw the look on your face when she was on your lap, Jarod, and I saw the look on your face when she told me it was over. I don't need to see, or understand, anything else!" She folded her arms, the tears still streaming, and waited for a response.
He strove to produce one but none was forthcoming. How could he possibly explain to Zoe something he'd failed to make sense of himself, despite years of trying? Perhaps it was beyond rational comprehension, it couldn't be understood only felt, like instinct - base, raw instinct - an instinct he shared with only one other human being on the planet. He couldn't respond; all he could do was look away in shame.
"I thought so," she bit out, unfolding her arms to start the engine, "The bitch was right about one thing, though, it is time I went back to my life, my family. I've been away far too long."
"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" he asked, his voice full of concern and sadness as he continued to stare at the ground, "Maybe you should wait until you've calmed down a bit."
"Fine... I'm fine," she muttered and again wiped her tears. She took a deep breath then fastened her seat belt. "Have a nice life, Jarod!" she sneered before slamming the car door. He shook his head and slowly moved to stand. The door flew open once more and something came billowing out at him.
"If you're relying on HER to keep you warm, then you'd better hold on to this!"
He awkwardly caught the item and, looking down at it, realized it was his jacket. There was another slamming of the car door, the screech of tires as she quickly backed out of the parking space, and the roar of the engine as she sped away. Then all was quiet except for the slight rustling of leaves in the breeze and the sound of a lone bird singing somewhere off in the distance. Jarod was suddenly aware of the sun-heated blacktop under his bare feet.
Heaving a deep, shaky sigh, he looked around. Blinking in the brilliant light of mid-afternoon, he surveyed his immediate surroundings in an attempt to reorient to reality and reclaim some order from the chaos that had ensued. He sighed again and was about to turn to head back toward the room when something on the ground in front of him caught his eye, a tiny metallic object reflecting in the sunlight. He bent down, picked it up, and held it up in front of his eyes. He glowered, his jaw tight and ticking with anger.
"Parker," he growled in a low, measured tone. He sprang to his feet, spun around, and charged back toward the room.
* * * *
*Gone...*
He wasn't really surprised to find the room empty but it still felt like a kick in the stomach. In the middle of the bed lay a PEZ dispenser - Wonder Woman, circa 1978, a collector's item - under which he found a one-line note in Parker's hand:
*Looks like you won't have to sleep alone tonight after all.*
He sank down onto the bed laughing bitterly until, dropping his head into his hands, his laughter dissolved into deep, body-shaking sobs; his pain made more excruciating by the intense shame that accompanied it. He was ashamed of the sordid scene that had played out, he was ashamed of Parker's behavior and of his own but, above all, he was ashamed that what bothered him most was coming back to that empty room. He had wanted her to be there when he returned. He had wanted to fight with her, to scold her for her actions, to have it out with her the way he could with no one else. He had wanted to goad her, to torment her, to get to her the way he knew that only he could. He had wanted her to be there when he returned. He had wanted her to be there. He wanted her there. He wanted her...
* * * *
*Well, I guess that's that...*
She clicked off her cell phone and tossed it onto the seat beside her. She had checked in with Sandy who informed her that Jarod's car had indeed arrived. Parker had arranged for it to be towed from where he'd left it in the Park. There was no point, after all, in being senselessly cruel. She knew he would be compelled to keep moving and hitchhiking was a dangerous proposition these days, even for a pretender.
She smiled contentedly, enjoying the feel of the wind in her hair, having stopped at a gas station about 20 minutes into the trip to pick up a soda and, while she was at it, put the top down on her rented Chrysler Sebring. Not a bad car, it wasn't her Boxter by any means but it hugged the road nicely. And it was a classy color - a pale grayish-green - the kind you keep looking at over and over again, never entirely convinced of the true shade. Parker liked that. Today, she liked a lot of things and decided on impulse that she would stop in Maryland for dinner on the way home - soft-shell crabs, a rare treat. Why not, she reasoned, her stomach felt fine.
* * * *
Jarod had no idea how much time had passed, but reckoned it had probably been hours when he was roused into consciousness by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He had a fair idea of who it was before he even picked it up. It was a call he was expecting.
"Son?" the man on other end spoke hesitantly in a hushed tone.
"Hi, Dad..." Jarod greeted in a weary voice.
"I know it's risky to contact you but I'm very concerned. Zoe has come back; she's very upset but won't tell us what's wrong. She's started packing up her things and will only say that she's going home. I don't know what to make of it and the boy is terribly upset."
Jarod closed his eyes and let out a deep breath then stated flatly, "She's going home, Dad."
"Home? Is that alright? I mean, are you sure she'll be safe?"
"She will now," Jarod replied tersely, frowning.
"Oh, Son, I'm... this is... I don't know what to..." the older man felt the sudden weight of 30 years separation as he vainly struggled to find the words to comfort his own child.
"It's okay, Dad. Only, please don't let her leave tonight. She's upset and in no condition to be out on the road alone after dark. Persuade her to eat something if you can but, whatever you do, insist that she get some sleep. Then, tomorrow morning, if she's up to it," he paused a moment for a shaky breath, "let her go."
"As you wish, Son. Don't worry, we won't let her leave until we're sure can travel safely."
"Thanks, Dad. I have to go now. It's time to get moving."
"Okay, Son, love you."
"Love you too."
Jarod stared at the phone for a moment, contemplating. There was a call he yearned to make but it would have to wait. He did need to get moving again but was somewhat hindered by the 20 or so miles now separating him from his vehicle. He would take a long, hot shower then figure out what to do next. So far he was sure of only one thing; he would not spend the night in that room. He tossed the phone aside, slipped all ten fingers into his hair and vigorously scratched his scalp, stood and stretched emitting a loud groan, then shuffled off in the direction of the bathroom.
He emerged into the darkness of the clear, cool evening, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of his car parked right in front of the door. Apparently she had thought of everything. He shrugged then began to fish in his pockets for the key. Locating it in a front pocket of his jeans, he muttered, "Thanks a lot, Miss Parker," unlocked the door and climbed in.
He decided he would drive all night. Jarod liked driving through the night; he reveled in the sense of freedom he felt on the open road, alone under the stars. Only he wasn't free, not really; he had never been free. And, ironically, it was the event he had always associated with his emancipation - his escape from the Centre - that had served to reinforce his captivity by bringing him into regular contact with her for the first time since they were children What's more, he didn't even think he wanted to be free, a rather startling revelation for a man who had ostensibly fought so hard for his freedom.
His mind was reeling again; he needed to think. He needed to concentrate in order to sort it out. He needed... clarity. Jarod remembered the call he had wanted to place earlier and picked up his cell phone. He yanked the antenna up with his teeth then hit one of the pre-programmed auto-dial numbers and waited anxiously, praying the party on the other end would pick up. He was both profoundly relieved and deeply grateful to hear the familiar voice issue the customary greeting,
"This is Sydney."
* * * *
*"For the truly sane and decent among us, complete freedom is impossible to achieve. The circumstances of, as well as the people in, our lives serve as boundaries; they represent the true limits to our freedom."*
"I'm not at all sure we're dealing with either the sane or the decent here, Sydney, but I get your point," Jarod murmured, recalling his mentor's words as he peered through binoculars from his perch high atop a hillside at the flurry of activity below. It was early evening, just before sunset and the place was abuzz, the last few delivery vans pulling away as the first few expensive luxury cars and even a few limos pulled up, ejecting their contents into the waiting hands of hired valets. Those arriving were finely dressed and appeared respectable enough but, given where they were going, Jarod knew better. After a few minutes a car pulled up and out popped a familiar figure, clearly identifiable by his body language even before Jarod raised the binoculars for a closer look. His expression hardened as he watched the man saunter smugly inside.
"Hello, Lyle," he sneered, his jaw tight, then added, "Just waiting on one more addition to the happy family... just one more." And that one final addition was the sole reason Jarod had gone anywhere near the place.
He didn't have to wait long and soon caught sight of that awesome black beauty approaching in the distance. He loved that car and had, on more than one occasion, toyed with the idea of taking it for a joy ride but always thought better of it. Parker had her limits, of which he was always mindful and careful to skirt; messing with her baby fell squarely beyond those limits.
*"Well, Jarod, I suppose what we each must do is find some way to influence, and perhaps even dictate, the terms of our own captivity."*
"I want to drive that car," Jarod declared to no one in particular as he raised the binoculars once more.
He watched intently as she made her appearance, those unbearably long, excruciatingly shapely legs gliding slowly out of the vehicle and heralding her arrival. Death-defying heels clicking to the pavement she rose gracefully, nonchalantly dropping her keys into the hand of the young man attending her, both intimidating and bewitching him at the same time... a Miss Parker specialty. Jarod smiled and shook his head then refocused his gaze upon her.
*Perfection...*
She wore a sleeveless cocktail dress of silvery-gray and her hair up in a sleek style. Almost everything about her evoked a sense of cool, like ice, but also strength, like a diamond - a living, breathing diamond - able to cut through glass, or anything else that got in her way, with merely a look or a word. Only one part of her ensemble deviated from this theme, her footwear. She wore a pair of strappy sandals with heels so high that they made her usual foot attire seem rather tame by comparison. Jarod had once heard a rather off-color term to describe heels of similar height and chuckled as it came back to him. Whoever coined it must have had something like this in mind, Parker's ruby red sandals.
He felt a flutter of excitement in his belly and continued to watch until she, too, disappeared into the building. Jarod lowered the binoculars and took a deep breath. With a sly smile he remarked,
"Time to renegotiate the terms of my captivity."
* * * *
"You look smashing, Angel, as always!" Mr. Parker bellowed as he made his way over to greet her.
"Thank you, Daddy, so do you," she replied with a smile that she hoped didn't betray its insincerity.
"You betcha! It's the Parker way. Now, where's that brother of yours? I saw him around here a minute ago."
"I'm sure he's around... somewhere," she replied disinterestedly. She wasn't in any particular hurry to see him this evening. "Where's the bar?"
"In the usual location... and the caterer has people walking through with trays of bubbly. We've got a virtual army here. You should see all the tents they've set up in the backyard, looks like a damned encampment."
"Well you've pulled it off again, Daddy, everything looks perfect."
"Thanks, Angel, everything IS perfect now that you're here. Oh, there's the sheik and his wife," Mr. Parker observed sounding apologetic, "He's a very important contact so I'd better..."
"It's okay, Daddy, you go ahead. I'll mingle."
"You'll dazzle 'em, Angel." With that and a quick peck on the cheek, he moved away from her.
"I'll dazzle 'em," she muttered frowning, "Because that's what I do," then headed straight for the bar.
Tucked away in a quiet corner of the crowded room, Parker steadily drained her second glass of Cabernet. She eyed it and counseled herself on moderation. She was going to require a lot of wine to get through the evening and couldn't risk intoxication. Here she was again, at Daddy's annual get together for important Centre 'clientele.' She surveyed the scene and took in the din of a multitude of simultaneous conversations. Set off a bomb in here, she mused, and you could probably make a real dent in world suffering. In the room were heads of multi-national corporations, career bureaucrats from all over the world who were obviously enjoying a break from thwarting the will of the people they're sworn to serve, and even a few highly placed government officials sent as envoys by the second rate regimes of various Third World nations.
"I see your glass is empty, Ma'am. May I take it?"
Parker shut her eyes for an instant and shook her head. Don't be ridiculous, she thought, better lay off the Cabernet. She turned to place the glass on the busboy's tray when it slipped from her hand. Bearing a full tray of empty glasses, he somehow managed to bend and snatch it from thin air, preventing it from hitting the floor.
"Careful, Ma'am, broken glass can be dangerous and we wouldn't want an accident to spoil this wonderful party."
"What the fuck!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "Are you out of your fucking mind!"
Ignoring her words he looked around and remarked in a conversational tone, "This really is quite a house. I can only imagine what the rest of it looks like." He gave a slight nod in the direction of the floor above them.
Shaking so violently she feared her knees might buckle, Parker turned away briefly to anxiously scan the room. She caught sight of her father at the far end, heavily engrossed in the act of ingratiating himself to a powerful Swiss banker. In another corner she noticed a prominent Malaysian businessman who had brought along his two daughters, lovely young women in their early 20s and, as to be expected, laid eyes on Lyle for the first time all evening. Better keep an eye on those girls, Mr. Sim, she thought fleetingly before turning back to deal with the urgent matter at hand.
"J..."
She groaned... typical. He had disappeared, of course, but Parker knew he wasn't gone. Not even Jarod would take such a tremendous risk for the express purpose of startling the living shit out of her. Well, probably not. No, he was still there, she reasoned, remembering his remark about the rest of the house. Upstairs... he's upstairs.
Parker moved across the room toward her father, snatching up a flute of champagne along the way. Just as she reached him, she stumbled slightly and jostled the full glass enough for its contents to splash down the front of her. The sacrifices I'm force to make, she thought wistfully of her brand new $800 dress, the sacrifices.
"That was slick," she uttered sounding annoyed.
Her father chuckled. "What the hell do you expect, Angel, when you run around on stilts?"
"I expect whatever bastard I happen to be facing to be so preoccupied with my legs that he never even realizes I've gotten the better of him until after I'm gone," she replied with a steely glare.
Tugging at his collar, Mr. Parker offered with a conciliatory smile, "I'll flag down one of the catering staff to help you with that."
"No need, I'll see to it myself."
"Sure, Angel?"
"Yes, Daddy," she smiled sweetly and added, "I won't be long."
"Don't be," he shot back with a wink.
Stopping along the way to grab a cloth napkin and dip it in soda water, Parker headed for the back stairs. Hoping to draw as little attention as possible, she wiped the front of her dress as she wound her way through the maze of white-topped, black-bottomed catering staff dashing this way and that. It would have been a piece of cake for Jarod to slip in under these circumstances, she reckoned. Her father was right; it was a virtual army and one operating at a frenzied pace making it highly unlikely that anyone would have noticed a stranger in their midst.
Flinging the napkin behind her on the kitchen counter, she heaved a small sigh of relief as she began to slowly climb the stairs, leaving behind the clamor of the party. When she reached the top landing, she gingerly stepped into the dimly lit hallway; the only available light provided by wall sconces that lined the corridor. And they were rather more ornamental than functional.
"Jarod," Parker called out in a loud whisper and got no response. He had to be there. She slowly crept forward and stopped at the first door, Daddy's room. She cautiously opened it, flicked on the light, stepped inside and made a quick but thorough search of both the bedroom and the adjoining bath. Nothing. She moved on, checking his study, then proceeded to the first of several guest bedrooms, then the next, and the next. All the while her ire was building. What sort of game was Jarod playing? And what, in God's name, could a man who lives alone possibly do with so many bedrooms? Deciding that was one question that should remain forever rhetorical, she pushed on, soon reaching the end of the corridor and the last room to be inspected.
*My room...*
Well, not exactly her room, but the one she had used when visiting on school vacations. Daddy had acquired the house shortly after he sent Parker off to boarding school following Catherine's death. He'd purchased it from a retired local banker and his wife, highly respectable old money types who, as was common of their class, must have enjoyed some sort of 'arrangement' because they had built the house with two identical master bedrooms placed at opposite ends of a rather long hallway. She'd never really liked the room; it felt cold and unfamiliar to her. It had never felt like home.
Parker took a deep breath then opened the door. Flicking on the light, she stood in the doorway and stared into the room. It was empty; he wasn't there. She could check the bathroom but she knew that it, too, would be empty. Her heart sank, which in itself disturbed her but she didn't really want to think about it. All she really wanted at that moment was another glass of Cabernet.
"Fuck you, Jarod," she grumbled then flicked off the light. She was just about to turn around when she felt a hand close over her mouth, an arm slide around her waist, and a body press against hers from behind propelling her into the dark room. Once inside she was released and, hearing the door close and lock behind her, spun to face her assailant.
"Do you WANT me to hurt you?" she snarled in a low voice at the tall, dark silhouette in front of her. He chuckled. She made a move for the light switch.
"I don't think so, Parker," he said teasingly then shoved her back.
"Goddamnit! I wish I had my gun!"
"But you don't. No place to conceal a weapon in that get-up," he joked.
Ignoring his levity she demanded, "What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you have any idea what they would do if they found you here?"
"By 'they' I assume you are referring to Lyle and your father?" He sounded entirely too blasé and it infuriated her.
"Well, who the hell else?"
"Oh, them," his tone was mildly contemptuous, "I can elude those two in my sleep." He took a step toward her and continued, "No, there's only one member of the Parker clan that I can't seem to shake, no matter how hard I try." He took another step, this time entering her personal space and compelling her to take a step back. "And this marks the moment I officially give up trying. I've finally stopped running, Miss Parker. Congratulations, you've caught me. Actually, upon reflection I've come to believe that you always had me. And when I think of all the energy we've both wasted..." He sighed.
"W... what are you talking about?" She had been so startled by his sudden appearance that, until now, hadn't stopped to ponder the reason behind it; or, perhaps, she had made an unconscious decision not to. She wasn't at all sure which it was.
"Why, the rules of the game, of course," his voice now sounded different to her, unfamiliar, almost dangerous. He took another step in her direction, then another, forcing her further into the room.
"More specifically, your recent enforcement of aforementioned rules." His tone was controlled, unnervingly calm.
"W... we can't discuss that now... here." Parker didn't recognize her own voice either; it sounded fragile all of a sudden. "I'll meet you later... at a place of your choosing. I'll come alone... I... I promise." She found herself abruptly and acutely aware of her trembling body.
He snickered, "Oh, I don't think that's necessary. This suits me just fine. Now, back to the rules." He recommenced his slow, steady advance and she her retreat. "You see, I've given it a lot of thought over the last week and it occurs to me that in seeking to enforce one rule, you broke another."
"Another? What? Which?"
Parker struggled to reclaim her voice, which now seemed hopelessly beyond her reach, and jumped slightly when she felt something soft hitting the backs of her legs. He had succeeded in backing her up to the bed and was now standing no more than an inch or two away from her. If she attempted to make a lateral move now, all he'd have to do is grab her and pin her arms; she was trapped. She silently berated herself for her stupidity and was thankful that he couldn't see the tears of anger and frustration now welling in her eyes.
Jarod reached up and placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, swallowing hard as he felt her shudder beneath his touch, then replied quietly, "That you, Miss Parker, must never, ever reveal that you actually give a damn," before unceremoniously shoving her back onto the bed.
Parker gasped and, feeling the bed dip under his weight as he straddled her body, protested, "You can't possibly..."
"Want to be close to a woman who seems hell bent on destroying my life?" he interrupted, "I know, it doesn't make any sense to me either, but here we are."
She pressed both hands firmly against his chest in an attempt to maintain some distance between them but he simply grasped her by the wrists and slid her arms up over her head as he leaned forward.
"This is crazy, Jarod, please..." she whispered
He stopped, his face a few inches above hers, and rebuked, "Did you show me... us any mercy last week?"
"I... I wouldn't have hurt her. You have to know that."
"Oh, but you did, Miss Parker," he leaned in further and spoke against her ear making her squirm at the sensation of his hot breath. "But you didn't do it alone," he added in a deeper voice, "You were only an accomplice, really." He pressed his lips softly and lingeringly against her neck, just below her ear, and she sucked in a deep breath.
"M... my father... we're in m... my f... father's house," she stammered as Jarod tenderly nibbled his way along her jaw line on his journey toward her mouth. When he reached her lips, he murmured against them, "You threw down the gauntlet, Parker; I'm just picking it up."
He hesitated there a moment, allowing the full weight of his words to sink in. Sensing the slow nod of her head, he teasingly brushed his lips against hers and remarked, "I thought you'd see it my way." Parker could hear the smirk in his voice and sighed as Jarod covered her mouth with his.
The kiss began light and soft but soon deepened, his tongue gliding into her yielding mouth and becoming probing, insistent. Parker whimpered and Jarod moaned in response, tightening his hold on her wrists and pressing them into the bed as he shifted his weight to push one knee between her thighs to part them. He broke the kiss and unclasped her arms, moving his hands to her waist to guide her body farther up the bed, which, in turn, enabled him to straighten his body over hers. Balancing his weight on his elbows, his left leg slid between hers as he lightly stroked her face with the tips of his fingers. Her breath hitched as he let his hand drop to her neck, drawing lazy circles on the hollow of her throat with his index finger. Bending forward to kiss her again, he shifted his weight onto his right side, freeing his left hand to explore southward.
"Ah!" she gasped, as he cupped and gently squeezed her right breast. He groaned hungrily at the sensation of her trembling beneath him, thoroughly enjoying the effect he was having upon her. He traced slow, teasing circles around her nipple, which he could feel stiffen through the delicate fabric of her dress. He gave it a slight pinch and smiled as he felt her body arch into his touch then dropped his head to feast on her neck, delivering a deadly combination of hot, wet kisses and gentle nips.
"They find us here... like this... we both die," she panted, hoping to persuade him to care about such a thing when she was having considerable difficulty doing so herself.
"Yeah, but what a way to go," he whispered seductively as his hand wandered over to her other breast and continued doing exquisite things to her. He then recommenced his assault on her neck.
Parker tried to piece it together but she couldn't. How the hell did this happen? How was it that one moment she was standing in her father's living room, sipping wine at a party, and the next she was off in a quiet corner of the house, fumbling in the dark with HIM?
Jarod's hand slid lower, tracing delightful patterns on her abdomen as he went, and continuing until he reached the hem of her dress, which had already ridden up considerably through the course of events. He stroked the soft skin of her upper thighs and remarked huskily,
"Your legs are bare."
She thought she could detect the slightest hint of disappointment in his voice. What IS it with men and stockings? Licking her lips she mused, they sure as hell wouldn't be so enamored if THEY had to wear them.
"NOBODY under sixty wears hosiery with open-toed sandals anymore, Jarod," she sighed, registering the absurdity of discussing fashion etiquette at a time like this.
"Oh," he replied with a slight nod then glided his hand under the fabric of her dress. His heart raced at the sensation of heat emanating from her. She felt so good, even better than he had imagined. He took a deep breath then touched her through the fabric of her damp panties, very, very gently with just one finger. In response, Miss Parker shuddered and made the most delicious sound he'd ever heard. Emboldened, he began to stroke her with feather light touches, tenderly mapping the contours of her flesh through increasingly wet silk.
"Miss Parker, he murmured sexily, his breath hot against her ear, "you're breaking another rule of the game. You're feeling something... you're feeling this... you're feeling me."
Until now, Parker had not moved her arms from where they rested on either side of her head. She had not touched Jarod back, perhaps in an attempt to remain detached from what was happening to her. But there was no way to remain detached. He was touching her so perfectly, teasing her until she ached. And she could feel him hard against her, his erection brushing her thigh. She became aware of a low, persistent whimper and realized that she was making the sound. A wave of panic swept over her. She could not do this. Her father and Lyle were right downstairs; she could not let Jarod do this to her in her father's house. She reached down and grasped his hand, stilled its movement, and cried out breathlessly,
"No!"
He raised his head a fraction and asked softly, "Did I do something wrong? Doesn't it feel good?"
"N... no, I mean, yes. We can't... I can't let you... My father and Lyle are right downstairs!"
"And?" Sternness crept into his voice to replace the concern.
"AND we can't do this here!"
"Why not, still afraid of disappointing Daddy? Well, Miss Parker, what Daddy doesn't know won't hurt him. After all, isn't that the philosophy he's applied to you all these years?"
"Is that what this is, Jarod? Seeking your revenge against my father by fucking his little girl?" Parker spat as she attempted to push him away and sit up. He would have none of it and shoved her back, covering her body with his, holding her down and snaking his hand between their bodies to reclaim its previous position but remaining still.
"Oh, no, I'm not letting you do this to me again," he growled, "You know this isn't about your father or Lyle or anybody else. This is about us, just us and no one else. This about the claim you staked last weekend. It is one I willingly cede because it's rightfully yours; but I will not, I cannot let you dictate all of the terms, particularly when you seem so determined to defy your own desires."
"What do you know about my desires?" she challenged, her voice quivering on the verge of angry tears.
"I know that a woman with your passion and spirit cannot possibly want to be all alone without a connection, cut off from feeling, cut off from this..." His fingers recommenced their tender, intimate exploration. "And I don't want to either," he muttered against her lips before sinking into another deep, passionate kiss.
He was right. Parker had grown tired of the nun's life but hadn't been able to bear the alternative either: largely passionless encounters with men she barely knew or, if they did hang around long enough for her to get to know, rarely liked. She was transported back some 20 years, to when she was a girl of seventeen on a break from school. Daddy had brought her to work with him one day and, on their way to lunch, they'd encountered Jarod and Sydney. Her father had been beyond rude, of course, and ushered her quickly away. But she and Jarod had managed to exchange a fleeting glance and it electrified her. He had become a man, a handsome, remarkably well-built man, but in his eyes she'd caught a glimpse of that shy, sweet boy she once knew so well. And that night, as she lay alone in the darkness of this very room, she had thought of Jarod. She had thought of him and had been unable to resist the urge to touch herself. She vividly recalled biting one hand to stifle her moans, terrified her father might hear, as she guiltily used the other to bring herself to climax, hiding her desire from the whole world and, in the cold light of day, denying it even to herself. Here he was, the genuine article, determined to do for her what she had done for herself years earlier while consumed by thoughts of him. And, in that instant, Parker resolved to let him.
Jarod felt her relaxing beneath him, giving in, and becoming a more active participant in their kiss. Parker wound her arms around him for the first time, running her hands over the taught muscle of his back. It was no longer enough to touch her through the slick silk of her underwear and he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric to explore her bare flesh. He let out a low, predatory growl - she was so soft and so wet he could barely stand it - and she gasped against his mouth in reply. Parker whimpered in protest as Jarod raised his head slightly, breaking the kiss.
"I'll bet you taste as good as you feel," he intoned hoarsely as he raised himself up on his palms and propelled himself down her body.
Parker squirmed beneath him as she shimmied up her dress to grant him greater access to her painfully aroused body. He gave a shaky chuckle and remarked, "When you make your mind up..."
"I want a fond memory to look back on when I'm locked up in Renewal Wing," she joked unsteadily as she felt his fingers slip beneath the waistband of her panties. She raised her hips to assist him as he slid them off her body. Jarod backed off the bed into a standing position and instructed softly, "Scoot down here, to the edge." She eagerly complied and gave a fleeting thought to what the condition of her dress would be when this was all over. Deciding it was the least of her problems, she put it out of her mind. He knelt down at the foot of the bed between her legs and placed his hands on her bent knees.
"Now I'm sorry it's so dark in here," he said, his voice deep and low as his hands wandered up the soft skin of her thighs. "I wish I could see you... like this," he whispered as his fingers glided into her moist depths. Parker bit her lip and moaned, her body arching slightly.
"Mmmm..." Jarod moaned as he leaned into her body and caught her scent. He then began placing tender, teasing kisses to the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.
Parker let out a frustrated grunt and demanded, "Just do it!"
He lifted his head to gaze up at her, his chin burrowing into her thigh as he smiled peacefully. "Do what, Miss Parker?"
"Y... you know!" she replied impatiently.
"Say it," he commanded, "I want to hear you say it."
"Make me come, Jarod. I n... need to..." she trailed off, choking on her own desire.
"Uh-oh..." he remarked in a sexy whisper that betrayed a hint of amusement, "There goes another one of the rules. Miss Parker just admitted she has needs. What WILL we do with her?"
Jarod lowered his head and flicked his tongue at her, teasingly at first, but then with more vigor. He began to lap hungrily as his fingers plundered her inner depths. Everything he did was perfect and the pleasure was almost unbearable. It was as if he were completely familiar with her intimate anatomy, working from a diagram that clearly illustrated all her unique little spots and included precise, detailed instructions on how to treat each and every one. In what was probably her last fragment of coherent thought, Parker reckoned he knew more about where and how to touch her than anyone she'd ever granted that privilege, herself included.
"Oh, God!" she called out, clutching the bedspread with one hand and bringing the other up to her mouth in an attempt to stifle the sounds being wrenched from somewhere deep within her. Her cries were joined by Jarod's low, muffled moans and grunts of gratification at having her this way: completely opened up to him, exposed and at his mercy. He was surrounded by her essence, lost in the taste, smell, and feel of her, spurred on by her exquisite cries of ecstasy. His actions became increasingly frenzied, wild as he devoured her, everything so hot and wet, her body tensing, winding tighter and tighter by the second.
"Jarod!"
It was the same two syllables he'd heard her utter thousands of times - in annoyance, anger, sadness, indifference - but it had never sounded like this. It snapped him out of his reverie, allowing him to observe with a mixture of awe and adoration as her long, strong, lean body convulsed through a powerful orgasm. Jarod continued stroking and licking her until her movements stilled and her breathing began to even out, until he felt her shaky hand reach down to stroke his hair. He lifted his head and her hand dropped to caress his cheek. Parker managed a small smile when she realized that she wasn't the only one left trembling and sighed as he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. He then rolled back on his heels and stood.
"You stay put," he instructed softly before going into the bathroom.
Parker had no choice but to comply; she doubted her legs were operable. She heard water running then Jarod returned, kneeling down in front of her again. She jumped slightly at the sensation of the warm, wet towel against her skin but soon adjusted, propping herself up on her elbows to watch his dark silhouette as he tenderly and meticulously wiped away the physical evidence of what had just occurred. It was more than a little unsettling; it was bordering on the ridiculous. Hell, it was probably highly undignified but, again, she chose not to care. Instead, she just sat back and smiled wickedly, enjoying Jarod's worshipful cleansing of her body. He was just about finished when she slipped one leg between his and brushed her shin against his crotch.
"Man, that must hurt," she observed dryly.
"Oh... oh yeah, but I'll live. We'll see to it later." After the initial shakiness, Jarod's voice exuded both amiability and confidence.
"Later?" She repeated skeptically.
"You'll find the directions and a key in your purse, which, incidentally, a member of the staff was courteous enough to bring up here in case you needed to freshen your make-up or something. It's on the counter in the bathroom." He tapped on her thigh to signal that his task was complete and helped her lower her skirt.
"Aren't we being just a tad over-confident?" she bristled. Regardless of the circumstances, Parker hated being considered a sure thing. "What makes you think I won't stand you up, or that I won't bring a sweeper team along for the ride?" Brave words, kiddo, she thought, who the hell do you think you're kidding?
"Because if you do either one of those things," he leaned forward and captured her bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a playful tug before continuing, "I will spend the rest of my days making you live to regret it." He then sprang to a standing position and walked back into the bathroom. Tracking his movements, she was pleased when he flicked on the bathroom light as he entered. My God, he's beautiful, she thought, frowning slightly when he disappeared from view.
"Besides..."
He soon reappeared, leaning casually against the doorway. His powerful male form backlit by the bathroom light, he looked stunning.
"How else will you get these back?" He asked playfully as he twirled her panties on one finger.
"Jarod!" she demanded through clenched teeth, "Give me..."
He shook his head slowly, neatly folding and slipping the item in question into his front pocket as he paced over to her. He offered his hand to help her up and advised,
"Make sure you're not followed."
"As if," she shot back as he pulled her up and into his arms.
He kissed her again and she could taste herself on him. He positively reeked of her and Parker decided that she liked the idea of her scent on Jarod, marking him as hers. He was right; something in her had snapped that morning in Lyle's office, compelling her to stake her claim after all these years. Perhaps one day she would understand it, that is, if she lived long enough. This sure as hell wasn't going to ADD years to her life.
Jarod recaptured her full attention as one of his hands slid down to the hem of her skirt, then up under it to cup her bare bottom, pressing her against his still fervent erection. A moan emanated from deep in within him and, pulling back from the kiss he panted,
"I've wanted a lot of things since my escape but believe me when I say I've never wanted anything as much as I want to be inside you."
She chuckled throatily then whispered, "Well, you should have thought of that a half hour ago, genius, because I have to get b..." Parker heard something outside in the hallway and froze. She attempted to pull away from Jarod but he tightened his hold on her... Someone knocked firmly on the door then tried the knob in an attempt to open it.
"You in there, Angel?"
"Y... yes, Daddy," Parker answered while trying to shake Jarod off the spot on her neck he'd commenced nibbling.
"Is everything alright? You've been MIA for quite a while."
"I've just got a bit of a headache, that's all. I came up here to take something and for a little breather from the hubbub. I decided to give the medication a bit of a head start by lying down for a few minutes. I'll be down soon, I promise." She bit her lip to stifle a giggle as Jarod latched onto her ear.
"Are you sure you'll be okay? What's with the locked door? Let me in."
"Just a little safeguard against our more 'friendly' guests. Please, Daddy, I'll be right down."
"Alright, Angel," he conceded with a sigh, " but don't make me come up here again."
Jarod snickered as he continued to feast on her neck and Parker shushed him, listening as intently as she could under the circumstances until she was certain her father was out of earshot.
"Now, you go!" she ordered while laboring to extricate herself from his arms. "I need to perform some major triage on my hair and make-up and get downstairs before Daddy starts getting suspicious, if he isn't already."
"I wouldn't worry about him. You are an excellent liar, Miss Parker," Jarod quipped as he finally released her. She went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
"Lord help me," she muttered as she reached for her bag. Hastily opening it, she noticed a piece of paper drop out and smiled slyly. She took a moment to glance at it before slipping it back into place and retrieving her make-up case.
"I don't know what they're going to think when they see me," she commented with a dry chuckle as she went to work on her disheveled appearance, "I do NOT look like a woman suffering from a headache."
When she felt she could do no more, she gathered up her things and turned to leave the bathroom, announcing, "Well, this is as good as it's going to get so..." She sighed.
"Well, that's one rule that apparently hasn't changed," she whispered into the empty darkness, "Always leave without saying goodbye."
She strolled over to the bed, which Jarod had obviously taken the time to straighten, and plopped down on the end of it. Parker just sat there a moment, staring off into space. Exhaling deeply she intoned,
"Wow..."
Shaking herself back to reality, she quickly stood and straightened her dress before strolling out of the room to rejoin the party.
* * * *
"What a beautiful evening," Parker observed under her breath as she waited on the porch for the kid to bring her car around. She had actually managed to enjoy herself once she made her reappearance at the party. Who wouldn't after a 'nap' like that?
Her father seemed fairly oblivious and didn't appear to suspect anything, but then, he was probably somewhat distracted by the monumental task of keeping his lips simultaneously affixed to the derrieres of half a dozen 'VIPs.' Besides, as predicted, Parker had 'dazzled 'em' and, by the time she bid her adieu, Daddy was most pleased with her. None too shabby, she thought with a self-satisfied smirk, for a woman who had lost her underpants barely an hour into the evening.
Lyle was another story. He strode up to her shortly after her return and, bearing that obnoxious shit-eating grin of his, commented on her 'flushed' appearance. Her initial anxiety was soon quelled, however, as he not so delicately implied that she'd disappeared to have her way with one of the post-pubescent rented valets. When she caught sight of him later in the evening, on her way out, he didn't look at all happy and was alone in a corner sulking and drinking whiskey. She wondered if it had something to do with that quiet word she'd had with Mr. Sim, cornering him on his way out of the bathroom. That's Lyle: always a day late and a dollar, and a thumb, short.
Her car came speeding up in front of the house, tires screeching as it stopped too abruptly. Shaking her head, Parker marveled at the kid's luck as she glided down the porch stairs. Any other day and he'd have died a virgin. Even in darkness, she could detect his sheepish demeanor as he climbed out of the car. She slowly approached and he gulped, looking so terrified she thought he might faint. When only a couple inches away, she smiled and sidestepped him, slipping a bill into his trembling hand as she passed.
Parker sank serenely into the driver's seat then offered a polite, "Good Evening," before closing the door and speeding away, tires screeching for a second time.
The kid raised the bill up to his face and shined his flashlight on it.
"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, standing dumbstruck in the middle of the road. One of his colleagues sauntered over and inquired, "What's up?"
"Fifty..." he mumbled, barely audibly, in disbelief.
"What?"
"FIFTY! SHE gave ME a FIFTY!"
* * * *
"I must be out of my fucking mind."
Parker muttered under her breath as she switched off the engine at the end of a long, dark, deserted, dead-end road then glanced into the rearview mirror for a brief inspection of her appearance. She wet her lips then shrugged. Schlepping across state lines in the middle of the night just to get laid, she mused, how pathetic is that? She then recalled that she'd once flown to Italy over a long weekend for the very same purpose.
*Ah, Mario... where are you now?*
She chuckled softly as she climbed out of the car. She could hear surf pounding in the distance and smell salt in the air. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and sighed contentedly; the three-hour drive had been worth it for that alone. It was somewhere in the vicinity of 3:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning and, here she was, on a quiet, secluded speck of coast somewhere between Ocean City and Cape May, New Jersey.
Using a flashlight to illuminate her way, Parker carefully strode up the path through a small stretch of woods toward her final destination. When she reached the clearing, she paused for an instant. The cottage did not appear large but even in near total darkness it seemed welcoming to her. She felt a mosquito feasting on the back of her knee and reached down to swat at it before pressing on.
"No turning back now," she whispered as she unlocked the door.
She quietly crept inside and made sure the door was tightly closed and securely locked before peering into the dimly lit room directly to her right.
"Hrmm... hello," Jarod offered with a smile through a mouthful of chocolate cake.
She raised an eyebrow and bit her lip. Lounging on the couch in a posture of complete relaxation, he was a sight to behold, barefoot with his shirt unbuttoned to the waist to expose that magnificent torso of his. There was a tall glass of milk on the table next to him and he appeared to be well on his way to polishing off an entire layer cake, the type you find in the frozen food section of the supermarket. None of this would have been remarkable to anyone who knew him were it not for the pronounced bulge in his lap, clearly evident in the low light despite the fact that he was wearing black pants. Now THAT looks promising, she thought with a smirk.
He caught her gaze and stated matter-of-factly, "It just stayed hard." She eyed him skeptically compelling him to qualify, "Well, more or less. The smell of you on my skin, the taste of you on my tongue; I've been reliving it over and over since I got back here and, whenever I do..." he nodded in the direction of his crotch.
"So you decided to inhale a cake?" she asked sardonically.
"I thought it might take my mind off... you know... it was a way to kill time until you showed up. I certainly wouldn't trust myself to attempt anything requiring concentration. Besides," he added affably, "I was feeling peckish."
"Do you have any idea how bizarre that sounds?" Parker shook her head and chuckled as she moved into the room, tossing her purse aside.
"Bizarre? Maybe, I guess, but it made complete sense to me when I thought of it," he shrugged, "Didn't work anyway."
She glided across the room, stopped in front of him, and remarked coolly,
"You could have taken care of it yourself."
Jarod popped one more forkful into his mouth then set the plate aside. Chewing, he replied, "Nope, value my life too much." She snickered. Grinning like a schoolboy, he slid his hands onto her bare legs.
"That's new," he observed as he ran his finger over the itchy bump on the back of Parker's right knee.
"Brand new... just happened. That's what I get for traipsing off into the wilderness," she joked, reaching out to stroke his hair. Leaning into her touch, he closed his eyes momentarily and sighed.
He then looked up at her and inquired, "How did the rest of the evening go?"
"Better than anticipated, actually. I wowed 'em."
"Of course you did. You look beautiful tonight, Parker. That is one hell of a dress you're wearing." His voice was deep and low as he tacked on, "Please take it off."
She smiled broadly and pivoted, eliciting a grunt of surprise from Jarod as she plopped herself down onto the edge of his lap. He grasped her waist to steady her on his wobbly knees and started to ask, "What..." when she elucidated, "The zipper, genius, and there's a hook and eye catch at the top."
"Oh," he nodded enthusiastically and set about the task before him. He swiftly completed it then slid his hands into the opening in the fabric to caress her through the thin silk of her slip. His hands glided effortlessly around her torso to her ribs and, moving from the bottom to the top of her ribcage, he proceeded to methodically trace each one with his fingertips as if counting them. Parker closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation of his touch, moaning when he reached the top of her ribcage and cupped the underside of her breasts, lifting them slightly, teasing exquisitely through silk as he ran his thumbs over her hardening nipples.
Parker unconsciously began to flex her hips, rocking in his lap. His breath hitched, he groaned, and one hand dropped to her waist.
"Not close enough," he uttered huskily as he pulled her more fully onto his lap. She found her skirt riding up for the second time that evening, her knees parting to straddle his thighs as he brought her body into full contact with his.
"Ooh," she moaned as she felt him hard against her backside. His hands were all over her now and he began to place hot, wet kisses to her neck. Parker's dress slid down off her shoulders and she groaned in frustration when it hindered her movement as she attempted to reach up behind her. She wriggled her arms out of it and pushed it down to her waist then reached back to grasp Jarod's head and, turning her neck as far as she could, captured his lips in an urgent, needy kiss. Devil's food, she noted rather absurdly, as she tasted the cake on his lips. He broke away and panted in her ear,
"Your hair..."
"What?" she whimpered as he latched onto a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.
"Take it down," he ordered, his voice quivering with desire.
Parker feverishly yanked at her hair, pins flying in all directions, until it was down. Jarod reached up and grasped her liberated tresses, twisting them around his fist to create a lever, which he used to turn her head and recapture her mouth. Meanwhile his other hand slid beneath the dress now bunched at her waist then up under the silk of her slip to caress her slippery skin. She gasped and bucked against him; he growled hungrily in response as he stroked her, exerting enough pressure to force her pelvis back against him in an exquisite rhythm.
Parker slid her hands behind her, touching as much of him as she could reach in the rather awkward position she held. But it wasn't enough; she wanted full access to him, every inch. And this time, she resolved, she would not be the only one to come.
"I can't reach!" she cried out, "I... I need to move."
Jarod loosened his hold on her and she frantically crawled off his lap and flipped onto her back on the couch, those interminable legs flailing in the process and forcing him to take evasive action to avoid getting a spike heel in the face.
"Those have got to go now," he remarked wryly of her sandals as he struggled to get control of the errant limbs that eventually came to rest in his lap. Bracing himself on the back of the couch with one arm, he managed to maneuver into a kneeling position between her outstretched legs.
She cast him a fierce, ravenous look and he grinned wickedly at her.
"Now I am exactly where I want to be, Miss Parker," he stated with a wink as he lifted her right leg, bringing her foot up to rest against his chest. She raised an eyebrow and pressed her heel into his flesh. He narrowed his eyes at her, shaking his head playfully as he unbuckled her sandal. Sliding it off and dropping it to the floor, he placed a gentle kiss on her instep before letting go and picking up her left foot. This time, she slipped her foot out of his grasp after he'd gotten her shoe off, bringing it down to rest on the bulge in his pants and, mischief dancing in her eyes, curled her toes around him. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath.
"Well, come on!" she demanded, dropping her foot down and reaching up to yank on his shirttail. "I won't be kept waiting all night!"
"You? Ha... that's rich," he shot back as he slipped his hands under the fabric of the dress still ringing her body and tugged at it. "Parker," he chided teasingly, "I thought I asked you to take this off." She raised her hips to help him as he finally succeeded in divesting her of her dress. He moved to lower himself on top of her when she raised herself up on her elbows and shook her head.
"Lose the shirt, Wonderboy."
He hastily peeled it off and tossed it aside then moved forward. Parker sat up to meet him, running her hands over his torso, possessively exploring his skin. Alternating between kneading his warm flesh and gently dragging her nails across it, she moaned into his mouth as they joined for another deep, wet, probing kiss. They both fell back onto the couch and he settled between her legs, which she wrapped around him, her feet coming to rest on the backs of his calves. He burrowed his hips into her and they exchanged sighs and moans at the unbelievable sensations created by the glorious friction of their bodies.
"Ah... it's so..." he muttered, barely able to fathom what he was experiencing.
"Hot..." she breathed, "the word is hot, Jarod." Bucking her hips into him, she snaked her hand between them and grunted impatiently, "Let me..."
Jarod raised himself up slightly while striving to avoid breaking contact and Parker seized the opportunity to unbutton and unzip his fly, which she managed to do in remarkably short order despite her trembling fingers. She reached inside and cupped him, giving him a playful tug. He howled, almost as if in pain.
"You okay?" she panted, loosening her grasp.
"No... yeah, I mean, I c... can't stand it much longer."
"Good thing you won't have to," she replied breathlessly as she used both hands to push his pants down over his slim hips, taking his boxers along for good measure. He did his best to assist her until they were at about knee level then gave up, unable to bear using his hands for any purpose other than to touch her. Parker used her feet to guide his pants and boxers the rest of the way off.
Sighing with relief, Jarod sank back into full contact and she again tightened her legs around him. Parker could now feel him, hot and throbbing, against her. She met his eyes in a deep, intense gaze, licked her lips and nodded slowly, grasping his beautifully muscled shoulders as he reached down to guide himself inside her warm, wet, tight depths. Everything was silent except for the sound of their breathing as he slowly penetrated her, biting his lip and wincing at the painful pleasure of it. All the while he remained focused on her eyes, which grew wider the deeper he went. When he'd gone as deep as he could, Jarod froze and a look of wonder swept across his face.
"I'm inside you," he whispered, sounding incredulous.
Parker nodded rapidly and swallowed hard, her forehead knotted with tension as she bore the sweet agony of having him inside her, stretching and filling her like no one else ever had, and desperate for her own release as well as his. She reached up and stroked his face, running her thumb lovingly over the birthmark just below his right eye, a feature she had always secretly worshipped, and said in a soothing, if somewhat shaky, voice,
"Come on, Jarod."
"Don't close your eyes... please," he pleaded as he pulled back before surging into her. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and she dug her nails into his back as he did it again and again and again, his pace increasing slightly, at perfect intervals, with each and every thrust.
"Don't... be... quiet... want... to... hear... you..." he chanted, seemingly on the verge of losing control. He reached down and grasped her legs, pulling them farther up his body, around his waist, as he attempted to move deeper inside her. He then slid his hand between their grinding bodies to stroke her in time to his thrusts.
"Oh, God!" Parker wailed, "I'm going... I..." She never finished the statement as a powerful orgasm overtook her causing her body to twitch and buck beneath him.
Shouting a name so sacred to him that he had never before uttered it aloud, Jarod found his own release. Parker gasped in response, her eyes growing even wider, and he looked surprised himself. He had done it unintentionally, their thirty-year secret torn from somewhere deep within him by the sublime experience of being inside her as she climaxed. He collapsed onto her, breathing heavily as his face came to rest in the crook of her neck. She slid one hand up to caress the back of his head, making tender circles with her fingertips on his scalp.
"I'm sorry," he breathed against her skin, "I didn't mean to..."
"I... it's okay," she consoled softly, her voice still ragged from the experience. It was a damn sight better than okay, actually. "Only," she added more steadily, "just when we're here, like this." He nodded against her and, in the process, became aware of the silken material still adorning her body.
"Hmmm..." Jarod huffed, "I never did manage to get you completely undressed." He lifted his head, bringing his lips to hers for a soft, lingering kiss before pushing himself up. She groaned in protest as she felt him slip out of her body.
"Sorry," he offered as he sat back on his heels, "but I need you to sit up a minute."
Parker read his intention and nodded, sitting up and raising her arms to allow him to pull the slip up over her head. He smiled approvingly at the sight of her completely nude form, growling with delight as he reached out and pulled her toward him, both of them nearly toppling off the couch as he plundered her neck.
"Uh, Jarod," Parker asked breathlessly, bracing herself on the back of the couch as his head dropped to her breasts, "is there a... ah..." He latched onto a nipple, employing tongue and teeth on the already sensitized flesh. "...Bedroom in this place?" she managed to get out.
He cast his dark eyes up at her adoringly and nodded emphatically, all the while remaining firmly attached to her. Parker let out a combination of a moan and a giggle then demanded in a throaty, sexy tone,
"Then take me to bed!"
* * * *
"Yeah baby, that's it, that's it!"
Parker squealed, fashioning her voice into an artificially high pitch as she rocked herself onto his renewed erection. Jarod's eyes snapped open to find her grinning evilly down at him.
"Why you..." He yanked her forward, their bodies still joined as he held her tightly to him.
"The word is BITCH, Jarod," she said, slipping her fingers into his hair and pulling it playfully as she flexed her internal muscles, eliciting a strangled cry from him.
"And you wouldn't have it any other way," she added before he craned his neck to capture her mouth in a rough, sloppy kiss. They moaned into each other as she recommenced her rhythmic gyrations and all intelligible conversation ceased for a time.
* * * *
"Oh yeah, here comes number four!"
Parker shouted as, grasping her wrists in his large, powerful hands and pinning her facedown to the bed, Jarod pounded furiously into her, grunting and growling like an animal as he joined her in orgasm. It was mid-afternoon on Saturday and, having passed out from sheer exhaustion just before dawn and sleeping away the morning, they awoke to continue the erotic journey upon which they had embarked the evening before. He had grown more aggressive and demanding in their lovemaking, yet remained, above all, intent on maximizing her pleasure. Parker had communicated in no uncertain terms that she wanted him to show her the raw depths of his desire and, having coaxed him past an initial reluctance rooted in a fear that he might hurt her, Jarod was now more than happy to comply.
They again found themselves in what, by then, had become a familiar position, collapsed in a panting, sweaty, quivering heap. When he started to catch his breath, Jarod remarked amusedly,
"Keeping score now are we?"
With a shaky chuckle, Parker replied, "For each one you give me, you are absolved of one previous transgression. Consider it a NEW rule of the game."
"For the sake of expediency," Jarod proposed, "let's set aside the question of why I should seek absolution for actions taken in self-defense."
"Self-defense my ass, but let's," Parker shot back.
Ignoring her remark he continued, "What happens when I even the score?"
"I wouldn't worry about that for the time being. We'll run out of weekend long before that happens, although," she snickered, "I must admit you are putting forth one hell of an effort."
"Well then..."
Parker detected the smile in his voice. Rubbing his stubbly cheek against the soft skin of her upper back, where his head rested between her shoulder blades, he continued, "I must point out that you've miscounted. The actual number is five, Miss Parker. I believe you failed to figure in our initial encounter at your father's house."
"So I did!" she giggled. "Ah, well, I guess I was a little distracted. You really surprised me there."
"Surprised myself too. I've never..." he trailed off, unsure of the appropriateness of alluding to previous sexual experiences.
Parker fidgeted to indicate that she wanted to move and Jarod slid off her, settling onto his side facing her. Pushing up onto her side to face him and propping her head on one elbow, she prodded, "You were saying?"
Lowering his eyes, he continued timidly, "I've never done it like that before, y... you know..." He was now the color of her strappy sandals.
She reached over to slowly trace her index finger along the contours of his exceedingly pleasing countenance. Suppressing a smile she inquired, "And your assessment?"
"You mean you need to ask?" Jarod replied with a snort before capturing her finger between his teeth and nipping playfully at it. He took her hand in his, kissing her palm then bringing it to rest on his heart before adding thoughtfully, "It felt so primal, instinctive. Makes sense, really, since it is the commonly assumed sexual position for species of the Mammalian class."
"Besides," Parker quipped, "it's NAS-TAY!" She wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively, poised on the edge of laughter.
Jarod shook his head and, furrowing his brow, lectured, "It's not a matter of right or wrong, Parker. It's only through centuries of cultural and religious indoctrination that Western society came to view that particular sexual position as aberrant."
Unable to suppress the urge any longer, she laughed heartily. As her laughter began to subside, she teased, "There's no need to be so cerebral, pretty boy, the way you screw!"
Flopping onto his back and folding his arms, he huffed, "Has anyone ever pointed out that it is impossible to engage you in a civilized conversation?"
Parker again dissolved into hopeless giggles, bringing a smile to Jarod's lips as he stole a sideward glance to observe her merriment.
* * * *
Entering the bedroom with a tray bearing their meal, Jarod grinned broadly. Parker was sitting back on her hands in the middle of the freshly made bed with her legs crossed at the ankle. She had obviously helped herself into his duffel bag because she now wore one of his button-down shirts and looked positively adorable in it.
She had made her wishes abundantly clear: she wanted dinner in bed. Apparently she wanted everything in bed and neither of them had left it for any significant length of time all day until they'd mutually arrived at the conclusion that a shower was in order. Having managed to waste all the hot water before getting around to washing, they yelped and giggled as they endeavored to lather each other up as quickly as possible under the ice-cold spray. Emerging from the bathroom shivering and with a slight bluish tint to their skin, they snuggled up to one another on the bed in an attempt to get warm and, before long, were well on their way to defeating the purpose of the shower. Afterwards, as Jarod rested his head blissfully on Parker's belly and she tenderly stroked his still damp hair, her stomach emitted a loud, angry growl into his ear. Noting with a chuckle that they had not eaten a thing all day, but had expended a great deal of energy, he reluctantly disengaged from her caress to climb out of bed. Pulling on a clean pair of boxers, he observed that neither had worn a shred of clothing in over fourteen hours. When he confided that was a record for him, she appeared most pleased to hear it.
"I hope you don't mind," he offered amiably as he set the tray down on the bed, "I took the liberty of washing your slip - the label says it's okay to hand wash - you'll find it and your dress hanging in the bathroom."
"I see you offer a whole range of services," she drawled seductively as she eyed the bountiful feast Jarod had assembled for them and, smiling approvingly, added, "So, what have we here?" She folded her legs and pulled the tray closer as he moved around the bed to take his place beside her.
"French bread, green and black olives, marinated artichokes. An assortment of those stinky cheeses you like so much and some milder ones for me. Fresh pineapple, red seedless grapes... oh, and there's strawberries in the kitchen and chocolate sauce warming on the stove..." he paused and they exchanged a playful glance before he tacked on, "for the strawberries."
"Aren't you clever," she purred.
"So they tell me," he sighed.
She picked up the bottle of wine and inspected the label. "Shiraz from Australia... lately, I've..."
"Developed quite a taste for it, I know," he beamed, taking it from her to pour them each a glass.
Jarod watched with delight as Parker dove into the meal, eating ravenously and obviously enjoying it. He was pretty hungry himself and ate heartily but was so focused on her that the taste of what he consumed barely registered. A slight flush rose in her cheeks as she drained her glass of wine. Concluding that any beverage capable of doing that to Parker's complexion fully deserved to have its eminence survive the rise and fall of entire civilizations and span the millennia, he cheerily refilled her glass.
When she had eaten her fill, she leaned back against the headboard, still sipping at her wine and sighing contentedly. Parker looked more relaxed than he had ever seen her; she looked happy. And she looked spectacularly beautiful.
"Dessert?" he asked softly.
"Absolutely," she affirmed throatily.
Jarod sprang from the bed and Parker snapped up the bottle, leaning over to set it on the floor beside her as he picked up the tray and quickly sauntered out of the room with it. He soon returned, bearing a bowl of plump, luscious looking strawberries and rich, delicious smelling chocolate sauce. She bit her lip and flashed him a look of approbation, which he answered with a conspiratorial wink as he set the tray back down on the bed.
As soon as Jarod had retaken his position next to her, Parker scurried onto his lap to face him. He smiled dreamily, slipping one hand into her hair and bringing the other to the small of her back. Resting one elbow on his shoulder and tracing his earlobe, she gave him a sip from the wineglass she still held in the other hand and followed it with a tender, passionate kiss. He could taste their shared meal on her lips, the sweet and savory and the wine, and couldn't think of any adjectives powerful enough to describe the sensation.
"That's one hell of a chaser," he remarked with an adoring smile as she pulled back to take her own sip. "The wine makes your cheeks rosy," he added, gently stroking his thumb across her cheek.
"Are you sure it's the wine?" she inquired in a flirtatious tone and with a devilish glint in her eye.
"Only one way to find out," he quipped as he took the glass from her and leaned over to set it on the floor.
Parker reached back behind her to slide the tray toward them. Jarod's eyes lit up as her back arched, and he seized the opportunity to nuzzle his face between her breasts.
"Hey!" she giggled as she sat forward again, grabbing him by the chin and tilting his head up to look her in the face, "I swear, you have a one-track mind."
"I can't help it," he chirped, "I like them very much. They're so soft yet firm at the same time and so perky."
That's what makes him so good, she thought, his complete lack of guile. Jarod approaches sex with the same sense of wonder and curiosity with which he approaches all things in life. He doesn't come to bed with an agenda, only with an open heart and a strong desire to please. And please he does, again and again. She rewarded him for his beautiful strangeness by placing a sweet, tender kiss to his birthmark then picked up a strawberry, dipped it in the chocolate and held it to his lips. He bit into it and chewed, moaning approvingly and smiling at her.
"Good?" she asked in a low, sexy murmur.
"Mmmm..." he nodded enthusiastically then pulled her hand to his lips to take the remainder of the fruit into his mouth and, while he was at it, suck the chocolate sauce off her fingertips.
She picked up another, dipped it and, this time, placed it between her teeth and nodded invitingly. He chuckled with glee then moved in to capture the other end, his lips meeting hers as he bit down, and engaging in a long, hot, tangy, sweet, delicious kiss.
"And I thought chocolate couldn't be improved upon," he muttered against her ear as he slid his finger into the bowl of chocolate. She let out a deep, shuddering breath as he painted her lips before plundering them once more. He slowly, methodically began undoing the buttons of what was once his, but what he had already decided would now and forever be her, shirt, all the while not breaking contact with her lips. Only when he had parted the material and slid it off her shoulders and completely away from her body did he pull back to say,
"We're going to need another shower after this."
She nodded slowly and watched through half-closed eyelids as Jarod dipped all five fingers into the chocolate.
* * * *
Parker opened her eyes and squinted in the sunlight. She knew immediately that he was gone and sighed. That was the way it had to be, whoever woke first would quietly slip away without waking the other because, if they were both awake, neither would have the willpower to leave. But they had to leave. She had to get back and he had to get moving. It was Sunday; the weekend was drawing to a close.
Tomorrow was the beginning of the workweek. Parker would have to get up at the usual hour, shower, and dress for work. She would then waltz into the Centre as if nothing had changed. She was a pretender too and fully confident in her ability to pretend that the hunter and hunted had not become lovers. Yes, lovers... She couldn't write this off as a casual fling, relegate him to the level of boy toy, or consign them to the realm of fuck-buddies. She didn't know when, or even if, they would be together again, or how it would ultimately end. If she were forced to hazard a guess, she'd have to say badly, but that didn't change the fact that they were lovers. Nothing or no one would ever change that fact; it could not be undone.
She glanced at the pillow next to her and smiled, reaching for the cell phone that rested upon it before propping herself up in bed. She pondered the keypad for a moment then nodded.
"Upright infinity..." she whispered then hit auto-dial and the number eight.
"Good morning, Miss Parker," he crooned then, glancing at his watch, amended, "...make that afternoon. You'd better get a move on if you want to be back in Delaware by dinnertime."
"You sound awfully pleased with yourself this morning... make that afternoon," she remarked coolly with a smirk that evolved into a full-blown grin when she caught sight of his shirt laid out neatly for her at the foot of the bed. She reached forward to grab it and, clutching the receiver between her head and shoulder then switching the phone to the other ear, managed to slip it on.
"Well, Miss Parker, it's a beautiful day and I've been having a fabulous weekend."
She found Jarod's use of her formal name to be strangely enticing, perhaps because it served as such an obvious counterpoint to, and therefore a reminder of, the sound of him calling out her first name in the throes of passion. As she buttoned up the shirt, recalling his fingers on the buttons to undo them, she asked with a broad smile that he could hear in her voice,
"Anything else you wish to share?"
"Why yes, the thing is, I've got good news and I've got bad news. I think it's always best to dispense with the bad news first, don't you?"
Her smiled dissolved and she sat up straighter in bed before inquiring in a slightly accusing tone, "Okay, Jarod, what's this about?"
"Well, the bad news is that your car is gone."
"It's missing? Jarod, why the hell didn't you wake me when you realized it was missing?"
"I didn't say missing, I said gone. Missing would imply that I don't know where it is when I, in fact, know exactly where it is," he replied with a smirk as he hit the accelerator.
"You son-of-a-bitch!" she shouted into the phone. Tearing the covers off and leaping from bed, she demanded, "Turn that car around this minute and bring it back here!"
"Sorry, no can do, I'm already three states away."
"Really, and which states are those?" she asked more calmly.
"Cute, not funny, but cute. Now, do you want to hear the good news or not?"
She groaned in exasperation then snapped, "WELL?"
"The good news is that you have not been left stranded. Your chariot awaits."
"Hmmm..." she huffed as she went thumping out of the bedroom, wincing slightly with every step and thinking that it just figured the annoying little shit would have a great big dick.
Still holding the phone to her ear but not uttering another word, she stormed out of the cottage and through the wooded area, acquiring several scratches to her bare feet and numerous additional mosquito bites along the way, until she reached the dirt road, stopping and letting the hand bearing the phone drop to her side. Where on earth does he manage to find these things, she wondered.
"Parker? Parker? You still there?"
Lifting the phone back up to her ear she stated flatly, "That has got to be the single ugliest thing I have ever laid eyes on."
"Aw, come on, it's got that cool gold racing stripe!"
"It's shit brown! And it's a Gremlin! I'll be lucky if I make it onto the highway!"
"Now, my dear Miss Parker, do you really think I'd let you travel around in anything less than a roadworthy vehicle? It is late model, after all."
"Late model?"
"Yes, it's a '78 and, since I believe that's the last year the fine folks at the American Motor Car Company produced that particular engineering marvel, it's as late model as they come. Oh, and it's got a full tank of gas so I figure, all things considered, you've got an even chance of making it home. But I would hold on to that cell phone if I were you, just in case."
"I hate you!" she spat into the phone.
"I hate you too, Miss Parker," he responded tenderly, his voice full of affection.
She closed her eyes, sighed and let out a dry chuckle. Her own voice was soft as she said, "I would have let you drive it, you know. All you had to do was ask."
"I know you would have but I'm afraid that new rule of yours has acted as a bit of a disincentive to behaving myself."
She smiled in spite of herself. Great, she mused, now I can't even stay mad at him for ten minutes when he's stolen my car!
"I'll get you for this," she warned.
Smiling at the promise implicit in her warning, he chirped, "I'm counting on it!" then hung up. Speeding down the highway, he let out a loud whoop as he reveled in the sensation of the wind in his hair. He knew he wasn't free but didn't care. He was beginning to suspect that freedom was overrated and, under the right terms, captivity suited him just fine.
Parker stood staring at the little corner of automotive hell Jarod had consigned her to and pondered her immediate fate. She would make her 'journey of shame' home in this abomination, wearing the more than a little worse for wear $800 cocktail dress she had originally donned two days earlier as she climbed behind the wheel of a car hardly worth $50 in spare parts. She then broke into a fit of hysterical laughter, reaching up to wipe the tears streaming down her face. Regaining her composure, she turned to head back toward the cottage when it hit her.
*I never did get my underwear back...*
# # # #
without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em... never did... never will... will never earn a penny... no infringement intended... please don't sue me... life is complicated enough these days.
Rules Of The Game
by Ginger
*Girlfriend...*
Parker's stomach soured as Lyle's words thundered in her head. Having to maintain her composure made it even tougher on her already ravaged digestive tract.
"You mean you didn't know? I find that interesting considering it's your full-time job to know what's going on in Jarod's life. That's what happens when you devote too much time to chasing ghosts and not enough time to chasing Jarod." He slid the surveillance photo across the table at her and practically beamed. "Cute, nice body, that is, if you like that type."
She glanced fleetingly at it then blinked up at him. Setting her jaw, Parker warned, "I wouldn't pull a stunt like that again. You really don't want to antagonize Jarod or he'll bury you. And we both know he can do it if he wants to. Besides, it's never a good idea to drag a 'civilian' into Centre business - it draws unwanted attention, leaves us exposed."
"Speaking of exposed, she doesn't wear much, does she?" Lyle smirked.
"I'm not kidding, Lyle, if you or Cox ever go near... what's her name again?" She knew damn well what her name was.
"Zoe."
"Whatever... if you go near her again, I will have to report to Daddy that your irresponsible, not to mention stupid, actions are jeopardizing the entire operation."
"Relax, Parker, she's nowhere to be found. Must've gone off with the Major when he" Lyle rolled his eyes, "leapt to her rescue while you and Jarod were off train-hopping with Ethan. Or else she's on the lamb with Jarod, you know, playing house with our pretender."
"No, she's not," she replied, sounding more harsh than she'd intended.
"Well, I guess you'd know, wouldn't you," he remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an important lunch engagement." He swung around in his chair and stood. "Please, feel free to stay as long as you like. Oh, and if you want to hang on to that," he gestured toward the picture on his desk, "feel free." He grinned. "I have others."
Lyle strolled haughtily across his office and pulled his jacket from the hook on the back of the door before opening it. Turning back to where Parker remained in front of his desk with her back to him, he commented, "And, to think, my instincts have been wrong all these years. I always thought he had a thing for you." With that, he stepped out of his office and closed the door firmly behind him.
Parker took a deep breath and allowed her gaze to drift down to the photo. Staring into the face of the smiling young woman, her hands balled into tight fists as the now unchecked rage churned within her. "Girlfriend," she seethed through clenched teeth, trembling as tears welled in her eyes. The sensation of moisture in the palms of her hands finally drew her back to reason.
She took another deep breath and unclenched her fists, raising her hands up to inspect the damage before calmly reaching over and grabbing a tissue to wipe her bloodied palms. "Okay," she muttered shakily, then repeated, "okay," more steadily. Straightening her stance and smoothing her hair, she plastered on a calm exterior then turned and strode determinedly out of Lyle's office, leaving the photo behind where it lay on his desk.
* * * *
"Taking Saturdays off these days, are we Jarod?" Parker whispered as she watched her prey pace nervously beside his car in a deserted corner of a parking area in the Shenandoah National Park. After a while, another car pulled up and a woman now familiar to her emerged, flinging herself into his arms.
"Well, hello there, Zoe," Parker grinned, lowering her binoculars. "Virginia IS for Lovers."
She had guessed correctly; they were taking HER car. Fortunately, Jarod was a good boy and brought along his jacket, the jacket on which she had planted a miniscule, but highly powerful and extremely accurate, tracking device. She had managed to slip into his car while he stopped off at a greasy spoon to consume what was, no doubt, a high-calorie, fat and cholesterol-laden breakfast. She would hang back a bit and let them get a head start, maybe even take a little walk and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. Even though he wasn't the one driving, and would likely be somewhat 'distracted,' Parker did not want to risk Jarod picking up on a tail, forcing her to abandon the scheme when she was so close. Besides, the lovebirds wouldn't be wandering too far afield, probably to a motel along one of the highways that ringed the park - the 33, 211, 340, maybe the 250 - so a half-hour of lead-time would be more than sufficient. All she needed to do was exercise a little patience... just a little patience. She was so close.
Good thing he's thinking with his little head today, she mused with a snicker as she practically skipped down the tree-lined path. What a glorious day to be alive!
* * * *
Pulling up in front of the motel, Parker couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, pa-leeze!" she rolled her eyes and muttered, "A hot tub in every room - could we BE any more tacky?" She wouldn't be caught dead anywhere near a hot tub... unless it was to drown someone in it. Well there's an idea, she mused. She couldn't recall the last time she'd had so much fun and found herself giggling. Yes, giggling... for the first time in recent memory.
Parking at the far end of the lot, she spotted Zoe's car in front of one of the room doors. Uh-uh, too easy, she thought as she slipped a simple gold band onto the ring finger of her left hand and plotted her strategy at the reception desk. The last thing she needed was to go barging into the wrong room, scaring the hell out of some pathetic middle manager and his bimbo secretary. She would make damn sure that when she went through that door, the right couple would be on the other side. So, back to the plan for the clerk at the reception desk, which she would have to refine depending on who was on duty... gender, age, and those little insights into personal circumstances that Parker had grown so adept at picking up.
She couldn't have gotten more lucky on that account and had to contain her smile as she entered the small motel office with the circa 1970s décor. It was manned by a lone woman, middle-aged, world-weary and, most importantly, not wearing a wedding band. Divorcee, Parker thought, perfect...
"Excuse me," she said in as meek a voice as she could muster.
"Yes," the woman replied dryly.
Parker fidgeted and looked around nervously then cleared her throat. "Um, oh God, this is so awkward," she stammered while pointedly twisting at the band she'd placed on her finger.
"Is there something I can help you with?" The woman's tone was somewhat softer.
"Y... yes, n...no, I don't know." Parker's eyes watered.
"What is it, dear?" The woman slid off her stool into a standing position.
"M... my husband," Parker choked out, "I th... think he might be here." She looked down at her feet. It ought to be against the law to have this much fun, she thought.
The woman behind the desk heaved a heavy sigh and muttered under her breath, "Always the same... no good bastards." She then motioned to Parker, "Come over here, honey."
Parker slowly stepped up to the counter and smiled shyly at the woman. Careful now, don't overplay your hand, she warned herself.
"I'm Sandy," the woman offered amiably, "What's your name, sweetie?"
"Laura," Parker answered with a tentative smile. She thought it a good name for an aggrieved wife, besides she had always sort of liked it.
"Well, Laura, what makes you think he's here?" the woman inquired in a confidential tone.
"I followed him, I mean, THEM," Parker replied bitterly as she, again, turned on the waterworks.
"Them," the woman repeated distractedly, nodding slowly as she stared off into the distance recalling a past grievance of her own.
"Will you help me... please?" Parker asked, pleading with her eyes.
* * * *
As she slowly, silently approached the door, her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that Parker feared it might be audible in the still afternoon air. Sandy had, indeed, given her Jarod and Zoe's location along with her blessing to...
*"Kick the damn door in for all I care. Happens all the time here - the management considers it a regular cost of doing business so they don't bother me about it. But it'll be a lot easier to get in with this and you wouldn't want to ruin those fabulous boots."*
"You're alright, Sandy," Parker mouthed as she soundlessly slipped the passkey into the lock. It turned with ease and, again, with little if any sound. It was as if she'd become superhuman. No, that wasn't it. She was just highly competent, more competent than they ever realized, any of them. But he'd know soon enough. She turned the knob, her heart rate slowing and confidence building with each passing second, and the door clicked open. She hesitated a moment, opening it just a fraction of an inch, and listened.
"Yeah, baby, that's it, that's it!" She heard a woman pant in a high-pitched, rather whiny tone. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head thinking there was no accounting for taste.
"W...wait a minute, did you hear something?" Parker smiled as she instantly recognized the deep male voice.
"No baby, it's nothing, just you and me here. Yeah, baby, that's it."
Sliding her hand along the upper doorframe, she was surprised to find that they had neglected to put the chain on. Ah... ah... ah... She shook her head. Such carelessness wasn't like him, then again, by the time they reached the room, all the blood had likely drained from that superior brain of his to pool in other areas. Turns out she wouldn't even have to scuff her fabulous boots. It also meant she could spring an even bigger surprise on the happy couple. Oh, joy!
Her smirk widened to a grin as she silently slipped into the room, closing the door gently behind her. Moving farther inside along a little hallway, past the bathroom, she reached up under the back of her jacket and slid her 9mm out from the waistband of her slacks. It felt wonderful in her hands; God, she loved that gun. She stopped just around the corner from where she anticipated the bed would be and effortlessly placed her hand on the wall exactly where she anticipated the light switch would be.
"Yeah, baby, that's it!" The woman's cries were becoming more urgent and she could hear Jarod's moans and grunts becoming more frenzied. Yup, she mused bobbing her head in the darkness as she leaned casually against the wall, they're well on their way... such a pity...
Parker winced at Zoe's piercing yelp and amusedly followed the frenzied movements on the bed before her. The half-hysterical woman scrambled off Jarod's lap, scurrying under the sheets as he, looking more disoriented than she had ever seen him, frantically scanned the room in an attempt to fathom what the hell was going on. All the while he desperately clutched the sheet to his waist.
"What the hell? Damn it, Parker!" He eventually shouted, looking positively homicidal. It really was too perfect.
"Hello, there, Jarod. Going to introduce me to your special friend?" she asked in an overly sweet tone as she waved her gun in the direction of the trembling woman clinging to him like a frightened child.
"How did you find me?" he seethed and Parker noticed that while he patted Zoe to reassure her, he also succeeded in somewhat loosening her hold on him.
Glancing confusedly from their assailant to her lover, Zoe asked in a shaky voice, "Y... you know her, Jarod? Who is she?"
"It's alright, Zoe. She won't hurt us." He said soothingly, issuing Parker a silent warning with his eyes.
"Who is she!" the woman demanded.
"Oh, just an old acquaintance who needs to have a few words with Jarod," Parker piped in, "alone." Bending down to pick up the woman's clothing, she tossed a few items on the bed and added, "Now, why don't you go into the bathroom and get dressed like a good girl so I can have a few words with loverboy here." Parker smiled devilishly at Jarod and had to bite her lip as he shot back the dirtiest look she'd ever seen in her life.
"NO! I'm not going anywhere!" Zoe challenged and, turning to Jarod, accused, "She's from the same place as those other two, the ones who kidnapped me, isn't she?"
"It's okay, Zoe, you'd better do what she asks."
"That's good advice, sweetie. I'd listen to him. Perhaps you haven't had much experience in this area, but it's usually a GOOD idea to carry out the wishes of the person holding the gun."
"NO!" Zoe repeated, or more accurately, screeched, causing Parker to shudder slightly and wonder how the hell he could possibly STAND the woman. Well, she mused, besides the tits.
"Jarod?" Parker intoned calmly, raising an eyebrow at him, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Never taking his eyes off the person holding a gun on them, he spoke quietly but firmly as he reached down to grab a blanket that lay folded at the bottom of the bed, "Zoe, I am asking you to please go into the bathroom and get dressed. When you come out, I'll explain everything to you, I promise." He handed the blanket to Zoe, who took the hint and wrapped it around her before sliding out of bed to begin gathering her clothing.
"But Ja..." she spun around and started to object.
"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand to silence her but not, for a second, breaking eye contact with Parker.
Groaning in protest, the woman finished gathering her clothing, moved warily past the gun-wielding intruder and stomped angrily into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly behind her.
"Cute Jarod... nice tits," Parker quipped then shot him one of his trademark smirks and, for the first time in her life, believed him truly capable of murder.
"So," he began, his voice quivering - he was obviously struggling to control his anger - as he sat up straighter in bed, "you must be feeling particularly proud of yourself today."
"I am," she replied with a slight cock of her head and cheery smile, both of which were completely sincere.
"Well, where are they?"
"Who?"
"You know who: the sweeper team, Sydney, Broots. Or maybe you left those two behind because you knew they wouldn't have the stomach for this. Well, congratulations Miss Parker, you've got me and I'll go without a fight. You can take me back, but only if you agree to let Zoe go. This doesn't have anything to do with her. But if she's hurt in any way, or incarcerated in that place, so help me I'll..."
Shaking her head and casting her eyes heavenward, Parker interrupted, "Don't get your panties in a knot... wait a minute..." she snickered and glanced in the direction of his lower extremities. To her supreme delight, he blushed slightly and briefly looked away from her. "You're not wearing any. Oh well, never mind and calm down, loverboy, nobody's taking anybody anywhere."
Raising her gun more aggressively at him, Parker slowly moved around the bed to the side Jarod occupied. Eyeing the barrel cautiously, he asked in as calm a voice as he could muster, "So, what is this about?"
It suddenly came to him that she was, indeed, alone and that realization sent his mind reeling as he feverishly attempted to work out what it meant. He searched her eyes, hoping to find a clue there, but they were unreadable. All he could see was that familiar deep blue, a blue that evoked both harsh cold and fierce heat at the same time. Fear welled within him, a fear he'd never experienced in any of their previous encounters, but it was tinged with something else, something he didn't want to acknowledge, let alone identify, but it was there all the same... excitement.
She was standing right beside him, her gun practically in his face. "Now, let's not make any sudden movements, loverboy..." He really wished she'd stop calling him that. "We don't want to mess up this pretty wallpaper, do we?"
"No, we don't," he responded grimly, scowling and looking away. A wave of disgust washed over him as he anticipated her next move, an experience made all the more unpleasant by the fact that he wasn't entirely sure at whom it should be directed.
Gracefully, in one move, Parker was kneeling on the bed, facing him and straddling his outstretched legs. She pressed the barrel of her gun to his chest, right over his heart, and the cold metal sent a shiver through his entire body. He clutched at the edge of the sheet, where it rested at mid-navel and his eyes darted nervously about the room. He couldn't bear to look into her eyes for some reason. He was afraid, of what or whom, was a question he, again, refused to ponder.
"Look at me, Jarod," she said coolly then repeated more sternly, "Look at me."
He swallowed hard and looked into her eyes - those same, cold, hard, hot, fierce blue eyes - and, probably for the first time in his life, wished that he were dead. "Yes, Miss Parker?" he sneered at her, projecting the torrent of self-loathing that had been unleashed within him.
Smiling with dry amusement, she spoke in a low voice. "I'm not here on Centre business."
"I guess not," he retorted.
"I'm here because you've broken one of the rules of the game and a cardinal one at that."
"Game?" he repeated quizzically, "What game?"
"Rolling her eyes, she huffed, "THE game!" and pressed the gun more firmly into his flesh, causing his breath to hitch.
Jarod swallowed several times in an attempt to re-hydrate his uncomfortably dry mouth then asked unsteadily, "W... which rule is that, Miss Parker?"
"The one stipulating that, as long as you remain free, you may have all the fun you like, Jarod. Hell, you might as well... you're not a young man anymore; who knows how many miles you have left on that prostate? But, and pay attention, genius, here's the important part: you must always, and I mean ALWAYS, remember that in this little drama of ours, there is only ONE RECURRING female role."
Her tone was matter-of-fact, her expression placid, and neither betrayed even the slightest hint of emotion. Jarod now found himself wishing her dead as well. At that moment, and for the first time since he laid eyes on her some 30 years before, he hated her. He hated that she had perfectly executed this little ambush; he hated her quiet resolve; but mostly he hated how in control she was... so damned in control.
"Jarod! What the fuck is going on here!"
Parker rolled her eyes and sighed exaggeratedly then stole a backward glance to see that a thoroughly pissed-off Zoe had taken up her previous position at the foot of the bed - they'd traded places really - then looked back at Jarod, smiled and shrugged. She then climbed off him, stood, casually dropped her gun on the bed, and proceeded to straighten her clothing.
For a moment he just stared at it, his eyes wide with shock. He then snapped up the gun, removed the clip, and inspected it, after which he rattled off a series of expletives so colorful that Parker stood in awe.
"Jeez, Jarod, kiss your mother with that mouth?" she taunted, "Oh, sorry, I guess not. Well, cool it anyway, Romeo, there ARE ladies present."
"It's empty," he muttered, sounding defeated, lost.
Slapping her forehead, Parker exclaimed, "I KNEW there was something I forgot to do this morning!" then grinned triumphantly before bending to retrieve Jarod's boxers, which she tossed at him with a simple flick of her wrist.
"Jarod, you didn't answer me!" Zoe whined.
"Oh, you're still here, sweetie," Parker commented dismissively before addressing Jarod, "Get dressed so you can walk Zoe to her car."
"What... what makes you think I'm leaving?" Zoe did her best to sound confident but her voice betrayed the tears that threatened to spill at any moment.
"Well, my dear, here's the thing," Parker directed her attention fully to her, "I've got good news and I've got bad news."
"Parker, please don't..." Jarod broke in but she could hear the resignation in his voice.
"Shut up, Jarod, and put your underwear on." She continued, "I think it's always best to dispense with the bad news first, don't you?" Parker didn't get an answer but could see a single tear trail down Zoe's cheek.
"The bad news is that this..." she gestured at both Jarod and Zoe, "whatever THIS is or, to be more accurate, WAS, is over. The good news is that you may now return to the bosom of your loving family. You may resume your life without worrying about your own safety or theirs. I'm sure they must miss you terribly and that you miss them." Her tone was civil - almost gracious - making the impact of her words all the more lethal.
Zoe's bottom lip quivered and the tears now flowed openly. She looked to Jarod pleadingly. Reading his expression, she choked back a sob, turned and ran out of the room, leaving the door swinging open behind her.
"ZOE! WAIT!" Jarod called after her, leaping out of bed. At some point, he had managed to put on his boxers. Brushing past Parker, he hastily pulled on his jeans, nearly toppling over in the process.
"There's no need to break your neck, Jarod. She won't get very far without this." She reached into her pocket and produced an ignition wire from Zoe's car, waving it in front of him.
His only response was a poisonous glare as he grabbed the wire. He then turned away from her and headed toward the door, picking up his t-shirt along the way and yanking it violently over his head as he exited the room.
Parker was now alone. She took a deep breath and shrugged, reaching into her jacket pocket to retrieve one final item. She then stated aloud and with complete conviction,
"Had to be done, Jarod."
* * * *
Jarod found Zoe in the driver's seat of her car, sobbing uncontrollably and pounding angrily on the steering wheel. He gently opened the door and crouched down beside her.
"It... won't...start!" she hiccuped, crying so hard she could barely catch her breath.
"I know, it's going to be alright, I'll take care of it," he said in a calming voice then reached into the car, under the dashboard, to replace the wire.
"That fucking bitch! How can you... she's evil!" she reproached, furiously wiping away her tears then glaring at him.
"I... I've known her forever, since we were kids and... she isn't... really..."
"Don't you fucking DARE try defend her to me!" Zoe shrieked, shoving him away from her so violently that he fell backwards into a sitting position on the pavement.
Dazed, he didn't speak for a minute or two but then offered miserably, "I'm sorry... it's just that you... you don't understand."
"Don't understand! What's to understand? I saw the look on your face when she was on your lap, Jarod, and I saw the look on your face when she told me it was over. I don't need to see, or understand, anything else!" She folded her arms, the tears still streaming, and waited for a response.
He strove to produce one but none was forthcoming. How could he possibly explain to Zoe something he'd failed to make sense of himself, despite years of trying? Perhaps it was beyond rational comprehension, it couldn't be understood only felt, like instinct - base, raw instinct - an instinct he shared with only one other human being on the planet. He couldn't respond; all he could do was look away in shame.
"I thought so," she bit out, unfolding her arms to start the engine, "The bitch was right about one thing, though, it is time I went back to my life, my family. I've been away far too long."
"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" he asked, his voice full of concern and sadness as he continued to stare at the ground, "Maybe you should wait until you've calmed down a bit."
"Fine... I'm fine," she muttered and again wiped her tears. She took a deep breath then fastened her seat belt. "Have a nice life, Jarod!" she sneered before slamming the car door. He shook his head and slowly moved to stand. The door flew open once more and something came billowing out at him.
"If you're relying on HER to keep you warm, then you'd better hold on to this!"
He awkwardly caught the item and, looking down at it, realized it was his jacket. There was another slamming of the car door, the screech of tires as she quickly backed out of the parking space, and the roar of the engine as she sped away. Then all was quiet except for the slight rustling of leaves in the breeze and the sound of a lone bird singing somewhere off in the distance. Jarod was suddenly aware of the sun-heated blacktop under his bare feet.
Heaving a deep, shaky sigh, he looked around. Blinking in the brilliant light of mid-afternoon, he surveyed his immediate surroundings in an attempt to reorient to reality and reclaim some order from the chaos that had ensued. He sighed again and was about to turn to head back toward the room when something on the ground in front of him caught his eye, a tiny metallic object reflecting in the sunlight. He bent down, picked it up, and held it up in front of his eyes. He glowered, his jaw tight and ticking with anger.
"Parker," he growled in a low, measured tone. He sprang to his feet, spun around, and charged back toward the room.
* * * *
*Gone...*
He wasn't really surprised to find the room empty but it still felt like a kick in the stomach. In the middle of the bed lay a PEZ dispenser - Wonder Woman, circa 1978, a collector's item - under which he found a one-line note in Parker's hand:
*Looks like you won't have to sleep alone tonight after all.*
He sank down onto the bed laughing bitterly until, dropping his head into his hands, his laughter dissolved into deep, body-shaking sobs; his pain made more excruciating by the intense shame that accompanied it. He was ashamed of the sordid scene that had played out, he was ashamed of Parker's behavior and of his own but, above all, he was ashamed that what bothered him most was coming back to that empty room. He had wanted her to be there when he returned. He had wanted to fight with her, to scold her for her actions, to have it out with her the way he could with no one else. He had wanted to goad her, to torment her, to get to her the way he knew that only he could. He had wanted her to be there when he returned. He had wanted her to be there. He wanted her there. He wanted her...
* * * *
*Well, I guess that's that...*
She clicked off her cell phone and tossed it onto the seat beside her. She had checked in with Sandy who informed her that Jarod's car had indeed arrived. Parker had arranged for it to be towed from where he'd left it in the Park. There was no point, after all, in being senselessly cruel. She knew he would be compelled to keep moving and hitchhiking was a dangerous proposition these days, even for a pretender.
She smiled contentedly, enjoying the feel of the wind in her hair, having stopped at a gas station about 20 minutes into the trip to pick up a soda and, while she was at it, put the top down on her rented Chrysler Sebring. Not a bad car, it wasn't her Boxter by any means but it hugged the road nicely. And it was a classy color - a pale grayish-green - the kind you keep looking at over and over again, never entirely convinced of the true shade. Parker liked that. Today, she liked a lot of things and decided on impulse that she would stop in Maryland for dinner on the way home - soft-shell crabs, a rare treat. Why not, she reasoned, her stomach felt fine.
* * * *
Jarod had no idea how much time had passed, but reckoned it had probably been hours when he was roused into consciousness by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He had a fair idea of who it was before he even picked it up. It was a call he was expecting.
"Son?" the man on other end spoke hesitantly in a hushed tone.
"Hi, Dad..." Jarod greeted in a weary voice.
"I know it's risky to contact you but I'm very concerned. Zoe has come back; she's very upset but won't tell us what's wrong. She's started packing up her things and will only say that she's going home. I don't know what to make of it and the boy is terribly upset."
Jarod closed his eyes and let out a deep breath then stated flatly, "She's going home, Dad."
"Home? Is that alright? I mean, are you sure she'll be safe?"
"She will now," Jarod replied tersely, frowning.
"Oh, Son, I'm... this is... I don't know what to..." the older man felt the sudden weight of 30 years separation as he vainly struggled to find the words to comfort his own child.
"It's okay, Dad. Only, please don't let her leave tonight. She's upset and in no condition to be out on the road alone after dark. Persuade her to eat something if you can but, whatever you do, insist that she get some sleep. Then, tomorrow morning, if she's up to it," he paused a moment for a shaky breath, "let her go."
"As you wish, Son. Don't worry, we won't let her leave until we're sure can travel safely."
"Thanks, Dad. I have to go now. It's time to get moving."
"Okay, Son, love you."
"Love you too."
Jarod stared at the phone for a moment, contemplating. There was a call he yearned to make but it would have to wait. He did need to get moving again but was somewhat hindered by the 20 or so miles now separating him from his vehicle. He would take a long, hot shower then figure out what to do next. So far he was sure of only one thing; he would not spend the night in that room. He tossed the phone aside, slipped all ten fingers into his hair and vigorously scratched his scalp, stood and stretched emitting a loud groan, then shuffled off in the direction of the bathroom.
He emerged into the darkness of the clear, cool evening, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of his car parked right in front of the door. Apparently she had thought of everything. He shrugged then began to fish in his pockets for the key. Locating it in a front pocket of his jeans, he muttered, "Thanks a lot, Miss Parker," unlocked the door and climbed in.
He decided he would drive all night. Jarod liked driving through the night; he reveled in the sense of freedom he felt on the open road, alone under the stars. Only he wasn't free, not really; he had never been free. And, ironically, it was the event he had always associated with his emancipation - his escape from the Centre - that had served to reinforce his captivity by bringing him into regular contact with her for the first time since they were children What's more, he didn't even think he wanted to be free, a rather startling revelation for a man who had ostensibly fought so hard for his freedom.
His mind was reeling again; he needed to think. He needed to concentrate in order to sort it out. He needed... clarity. Jarod remembered the call he had wanted to place earlier and picked up his cell phone. He yanked the antenna up with his teeth then hit one of the pre-programmed auto-dial numbers and waited anxiously, praying the party on the other end would pick up. He was both profoundly relieved and deeply grateful to hear the familiar voice issue the customary greeting,
"This is Sydney."
* * * *
*"For the truly sane and decent among us, complete freedom is impossible to achieve. The circumstances of, as well as the people in, our lives serve as boundaries; they represent the true limits to our freedom."*
"I'm not at all sure we're dealing with either the sane or the decent here, Sydney, but I get your point," Jarod murmured, recalling his mentor's words as he peered through binoculars from his perch high atop a hillside at the flurry of activity below. It was early evening, just before sunset and the place was abuzz, the last few delivery vans pulling away as the first few expensive luxury cars and even a few limos pulled up, ejecting their contents into the waiting hands of hired valets. Those arriving were finely dressed and appeared respectable enough but, given where they were going, Jarod knew better. After a few minutes a car pulled up and out popped a familiar figure, clearly identifiable by his body language even before Jarod raised the binoculars for a closer look. His expression hardened as he watched the man saunter smugly inside.
"Hello, Lyle," he sneered, his jaw tight, then added, "Just waiting on one more addition to the happy family... just one more." And that one final addition was the sole reason Jarod had gone anywhere near the place.
He didn't have to wait long and soon caught sight of that awesome black beauty approaching in the distance. He loved that car and had, on more than one occasion, toyed with the idea of taking it for a joy ride but always thought better of it. Parker had her limits, of which he was always mindful and careful to skirt; messing with her baby fell squarely beyond those limits.
*"Well, Jarod, I suppose what we each must do is find some way to influence, and perhaps even dictate, the terms of our own captivity."*
"I want to drive that car," Jarod declared to no one in particular as he raised the binoculars once more.
He watched intently as she made her appearance, those unbearably long, excruciatingly shapely legs gliding slowly out of the vehicle and heralding her arrival. Death-defying heels clicking to the pavement she rose gracefully, nonchalantly dropping her keys into the hand of the young man attending her, both intimidating and bewitching him at the same time... a Miss Parker specialty. Jarod smiled and shook his head then refocused his gaze upon her.
*Perfection...*
She wore a sleeveless cocktail dress of silvery-gray and her hair up in a sleek style. Almost everything about her evoked a sense of cool, like ice, but also strength, like a diamond - a living, breathing diamond - able to cut through glass, or anything else that got in her way, with merely a look or a word. Only one part of her ensemble deviated from this theme, her footwear. She wore a pair of strappy sandals with heels so high that they made her usual foot attire seem rather tame by comparison. Jarod had once heard a rather off-color term to describe heels of similar height and chuckled as it came back to him. Whoever coined it must have had something like this in mind, Parker's ruby red sandals.
He felt a flutter of excitement in his belly and continued to watch until she, too, disappeared into the building. Jarod lowered the binoculars and took a deep breath. With a sly smile he remarked,
"Time to renegotiate the terms of my captivity."
* * * *
"You look smashing, Angel, as always!" Mr. Parker bellowed as he made his way over to greet her.
"Thank you, Daddy, so do you," she replied with a smile that she hoped didn't betray its insincerity.
"You betcha! It's the Parker way. Now, where's that brother of yours? I saw him around here a minute ago."
"I'm sure he's around... somewhere," she replied disinterestedly. She wasn't in any particular hurry to see him this evening. "Where's the bar?"
"In the usual location... and the caterer has people walking through with trays of bubbly. We've got a virtual army here. You should see all the tents they've set up in the backyard, looks like a damned encampment."
"Well you've pulled it off again, Daddy, everything looks perfect."
"Thanks, Angel, everything IS perfect now that you're here. Oh, there's the sheik and his wife," Mr. Parker observed sounding apologetic, "He's a very important contact so I'd better..."
"It's okay, Daddy, you go ahead. I'll mingle."
"You'll dazzle 'em, Angel." With that and a quick peck on the cheek, he moved away from her.
"I'll dazzle 'em," she muttered frowning, "Because that's what I do," then headed straight for the bar.
Tucked away in a quiet corner of the crowded room, Parker steadily drained her second glass of Cabernet. She eyed it and counseled herself on moderation. She was going to require a lot of wine to get through the evening and couldn't risk intoxication. Here she was again, at Daddy's annual get together for important Centre 'clientele.' She surveyed the scene and took in the din of a multitude of simultaneous conversations. Set off a bomb in here, she mused, and you could probably make a real dent in world suffering. In the room were heads of multi-national corporations, career bureaucrats from all over the world who were obviously enjoying a break from thwarting the will of the people they're sworn to serve, and even a few highly placed government officials sent as envoys by the second rate regimes of various Third World nations.
"I see your glass is empty, Ma'am. May I take it?"
Parker shut her eyes for an instant and shook her head. Don't be ridiculous, she thought, better lay off the Cabernet. She turned to place the glass on the busboy's tray when it slipped from her hand. Bearing a full tray of empty glasses, he somehow managed to bend and snatch it from thin air, preventing it from hitting the floor.
"Careful, Ma'am, broken glass can be dangerous and we wouldn't want an accident to spoil this wonderful party."
"What the fuck!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "Are you out of your fucking mind!"
Ignoring her words he looked around and remarked in a conversational tone, "This really is quite a house. I can only imagine what the rest of it looks like." He gave a slight nod in the direction of the floor above them.
Shaking so violently she feared her knees might buckle, Parker turned away briefly to anxiously scan the room. She caught sight of her father at the far end, heavily engrossed in the act of ingratiating himself to a powerful Swiss banker. In another corner she noticed a prominent Malaysian businessman who had brought along his two daughters, lovely young women in their early 20s and, as to be expected, laid eyes on Lyle for the first time all evening. Better keep an eye on those girls, Mr. Sim, she thought fleetingly before turning back to deal with the urgent matter at hand.
"J..."
She groaned... typical. He had disappeared, of course, but Parker knew he wasn't gone. Not even Jarod would take such a tremendous risk for the express purpose of startling the living shit out of her. Well, probably not. No, he was still there, she reasoned, remembering his remark about the rest of the house. Upstairs... he's upstairs.
Parker moved across the room toward her father, snatching up a flute of champagne along the way. Just as she reached him, she stumbled slightly and jostled the full glass enough for its contents to splash down the front of her. The sacrifices I'm force to make, she thought wistfully of her brand new $800 dress, the sacrifices.
"That was slick," she uttered sounding annoyed.
Her father chuckled. "What the hell do you expect, Angel, when you run around on stilts?"
"I expect whatever bastard I happen to be facing to be so preoccupied with my legs that he never even realizes I've gotten the better of him until after I'm gone," she replied with a steely glare.
Tugging at his collar, Mr. Parker offered with a conciliatory smile, "I'll flag down one of the catering staff to help you with that."
"No need, I'll see to it myself."
"Sure, Angel?"
"Yes, Daddy," she smiled sweetly and added, "I won't be long."
"Don't be," he shot back with a wink.
Stopping along the way to grab a cloth napkin and dip it in soda water, Parker headed for the back stairs. Hoping to draw as little attention as possible, she wiped the front of her dress as she wound her way through the maze of white-topped, black-bottomed catering staff dashing this way and that. It would have been a piece of cake for Jarod to slip in under these circumstances, she reckoned. Her father was right; it was a virtual army and one operating at a frenzied pace making it highly unlikely that anyone would have noticed a stranger in their midst.
Flinging the napkin behind her on the kitchen counter, she heaved a small sigh of relief as she began to slowly climb the stairs, leaving behind the clamor of the party. When she reached the top landing, she gingerly stepped into the dimly lit hallway; the only available light provided by wall sconces that lined the corridor. And they were rather more ornamental than functional.
"Jarod," Parker called out in a loud whisper and got no response. He had to be there. She slowly crept forward and stopped at the first door, Daddy's room. She cautiously opened it, flicked on the light, stepped inside and made a quick but thorough search of both the bedroom and the adjoining bath. Nothing. She moved on, checking his study, then proceeded to the first of several guest bedrooms, then the next, and the next. All the while her ire was building. What sort of game was Jarod playing? And what, in God's name, could a man who lives alone possibly do with so many bedrooms? Deciding that was one question that should remain forever rhetorical, she pushed on, soon reaching the end of the corridor and the last room to be inspected.
*My room...*
Well, not exactly her room, but the one she had used when visiting on school vacations. Daddy had acquired the house shortly after he sent Parker off to boarding school following Catherine's death. He'd purchased it from a retired local banker and his wife, highly respectable old money types who, as was common of their class, must have enjoyed some sort of 'arrangement' because they had built the house with two identical master bedrooms placed at opposite ends of a rather long hallway. She'd never really liked the room; it felt cold and unfamiliar to her. It had never felt like home.
Parker took a deep breath then opened the door. Flicking on the light, she stood in the doorway and stared into the room. It was empty; he wasn't there. She could check the bathroom but she knew that it, too, would be empty. Her heart sank, which in itself disturbed her but she didn't really want to think about it. All she really wanted at that moment was another glass of Cabernet.
"Fuck you, Jarod," she grumbled then flicked off the light. She was just about to turn around when she felt a hand close over her mouth, an arm slide around her waist, and a body press against hers from behind propelling her into the dark room. Once inside she was released and, hearing the door close and lock behind her, spun to face her assailant.
"Do you WANT me to hurt you?" she snarled in a low voice at the tall, dark silhouette in front of her. He chuckled. She made a move for the light switch.
"I don't think so, Parker," he said teasingly then shoved her back.
"Goddamnit! I wish I had my gun!"
"But you don't. No place to conceal a weapon in that get-up," he joked.
Ignoring his levity she demanded, "What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you have any idea what they would do if they found you here?"
"By 'they' I assume you are referring to Lyle and your father?" He sounded entirely too blasé and it infuriated her.
"Well, who the hell else?"
"Oh, them," his tone was mildly contemptuous, "I can elude those two in my sleep." He took a step toward her and continued, "No, there's only one member of the Parker clan that I can't seem to shake, no matter how hard I try." He took another step, this time entering her personal space and compelling her to take a step back. "And this marks the moment I officially give up trying. I've finally stopped running, Miss Parker. Congratulations, you've caught me. Actually, upon reflection I've come to believe that you always had me. And when I think of all the energy we've both wasted..." He sighed.
"W... what are you talking about?" She had been so startled by his sudden appearance that, until now, hadn't stopped to ponder the reason behind it; or, perhaps, she had made an unconscious decision not to. She wasn't at all sure which it was.
"Why, the rules of the game, of course," his voice now sounded different to her, unfamiliar, almost dangerous. He took another step in her direction, then another, forcing her further into the room.
"More specifically, your recent enforcement of aforementioned rules." His tone was controlled, unnervingly calm.
"W... we can't discuss that now... here." Parker didn't recognize her own voice either; it sounded fragile all of a sudden. "I'll meet you later... at a place of your choosing. I'll come alone... I... I promise." She found herself abruptly and acutely aware of her trembling body.
He snickered, "Oh, I don't think that's necessary. This suits me just fine. Now, back to the rules." He recommenced his slow, steady advance and she her retreat. "You see, I've given it a lot of thought over the last week and it occurs to me that in seeking to enforce one rule, you broke another."
"Another? What? Which?"
Parker struggled to reclaim her voice, which now seemed hopelessly beyond her reach, and jumped slightly when she felt something soft hitting the backs of her legs. He had succeeded in backing her up to the bed and was now standing no more than an inch or two away from her. If she attempted to make a lateral move now, all he'd have to do is grab her and pin her arms; she was trapped. She silently berated herself for her stupidity and was thankful that he couldn't see the tears of anger and frustration now welling in her eyes.
Jarod reached up and placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, swallowing hard as he felt her shudder beneath his touch, then replied quietly, "That you, Miss Parker, must never, ever reveal that you actually give a damn," before unceremoniously shoving her back onto the bed.
Parker gasped and, feeling the bed dip under his weight as he straddled her body, protested, "You can't possibly..."
"Want to be close to a woman who seems hell bent on destroying my life?" he interrupted, "I know, it doesn't make any sense to me either, but here we are."
She pressed both hands firmly against his chest in an attempt to maintain some distance between them but he simply grasped her by the wrists and slid her arms up over her head as he leaned forward.
"This is crazy, Jarod, please..." she whispered
He stopped, his face a few inches above hers, and rebuked, "Did you show me... us any mercy last week?"
"I... I wouldn't have hurt her. You have to know that."
"Oh, but you did, Miss Parker," he leaned in further and spoke against her ear making her squirm at the sensation of his hot breath. "But you didn't do it alone," he added in a deeper voice, "You were only an accomplice, really." He pressed his lips softly and lingeringly against her neck, just below her ear, and she sucked in a deep breath.
"M... my father... we're in m... my f... father's house," she stammered as Jarod tenderly nibbled his way along her jaw line on his journey toward her mouth. When he reached her lips, he murmured against them, "You threw down the gauntlet, Parker; I'm just picking it up."
He hesitated there a moment, allowing the full weight of his words to sink in. Sensing the slow nod of her head, he teasingly brushed his lips against hers and remarked, "I thought you'd see it my way." Parker could hear the smirk in his voice and sighed as Jarod covered her mouth with his.
The kiss began light and soft but soon deepened, his tongue gliding into her yielding mouth and becoming probing, insistent. Parker whimpered and Jarod moaned in response, tightening his hold on her wrists and pressing them into the bed as he shifted his weight to push one knee between her thighs to part them. He broke the kiss and unclasped her arms, moving his hands to her waist to guide her body farther up the bed, which, in turn, enabled him to straighten his body over hers. Balancing his weight on his elbows, his left leg slid between hers as he lightly stroked her face with the tips of his fingers. Her breath hitched as he let his hand drop to her neck, drawing lazy circles on the hollow of her throat with his index finger. Bending forward to kiss her again, he shifted his weight onto his right side, freeing his left hand to explore southward.
"Ah!" she gasped, as he cupped and gently squeezed her right breast. He groaned hungrily at the sensation of her trembling beneath him, thoroughly enjoying the effect he was having upon her. He traced slow, teasing circles around her nipple, which he could feel stiffen through the delicate fabric of her dress. He gave it a slight pinch and smiled as he felt her body arch into his touch then dropped his head to feast on her neck, delivering a deadly combination of hot, wet kisses and gentle nips.
"They find us here... like this... we both die," she panted, hoping to persuade him to care about such a thing when she was having considerable difficulty doing so herself.
"Yeah, but what a way to go," he whispered seductively as his hand wandered over to her other breast and continued doing exquisite things to her. He then recommenced his assault on her neck.
Parker tried to piece it together but she couldn't. How the hell did this happen? How was it that one moment she was standing in her father's living room, sipping wine at a party, and the next she was off in a quiet corner of the house, fumbling in the dark with HIM?
Jarod's hand slid lower, tracing delightful patterns on her abdomen as he went, and continuing until he reached the hem of her dress, which had already ridden up considerably through the course of events. He stroked the soft skin of her upper thighs and remarked huskily,
"Your legs are bare."
She thought she could detect the slightest hint of disappointment in his voice. What IS it with men and stockings? Licking her lips she mused, they sure as hell wouldn't be so enamored if THEY had to wear them.
"NOBODY under sixty wears hosiery with open-toed sandals anymore, Jarod," she sighed, registering the absurdity of discussing fashion etiquette at a time like this.
"Oh," he replied with a slight nod then glided his hand under the fabric of her dress. His heart raced at the sensation of heat emanating from her. She felt so good, even better than he had imagined. He took a deep breath then touched her through the fabric of her damp panties, very, very gently with just one finger. In response, Miss Parker shuddered and made the most delicious sound he'd ever heard. Emboldened, he began to stroke her with feather light touches, tenderly mapping the contours of her flesh through increasingly wet silk.
"Miss Parker, he murmured sexily, his breath hot against her ear, "you're breaking another rule of the game. You're feeling something... you're feeling this... you're feeling me."
Until now, Parker had not moved her arms from where they rested on either side of her head. She had not touched Jarod back, perhaps in an attempt to remain detached from what was happening to her. But there was no way to remain detached. He was touching her so perfectly, teasing her until she ached. And she could feel him hard against her, his erection brushing her thigh. She became aware of a low, persistent whimper and realized that she was making the sound. A wave of panic swept over her. She could not do this. Her father and Lyle were right downstairs; she could not let Jarod do this to her in her father's house. She reached down and grasped his hand, stilled its movement, and cried out breathlessly,
"No!"
He raised his head a fraction and asked softly, "Did I do something wrong? Doesn't it feel good?"
"N... no, I mean, yes. We can't... I can't let you... My father and Lyle are right downstairs!"
"And?" Sternness crept into his voice to replace the concern.
"AND we can't do this here!"
"Why not, still afraid of disappointing Daddy? Well, Miss Parker, what Daddy doesn't know won't hurt him. After all, isn't that the philosophy he's applied to you all these years?"
"Is that what this is, Jarod? Seeking your revenge against my father by fucking his little girl?" Parker spat as she attempted to push him away and sit up. He would have none of it and shoved her back, covering her body with his, holding her down and snaking his hand between their bodies to reclaim its previous position but remaining still.
"Oh, no, I'm not letting you do this to me again," he growled, "You know this isn't about your father or Lyle or anybody else. This is about us, just us and no one else. This about the claim you staked last weekend. It is one I willingly cede because it's rightfully yours; but I will not, I cannot let you dictate all of the terms, particularly when you seem so determined to defy your own desires."
"What do you know about my desires?" she challenged, her voice quivering on the verge of angry tears.
"I know that a woman with your passion and spirit cannot possibly want to be all alone without a connection, cut off from feeling, cut off from this..." His fingers recommenced their tender, intimate exploration. "And I don't want to either," he muttered against her lips before sinking into another deep, passionate kiss.
He was right. Parker had grown tired of the nun's life but hadn't been able to bear the alternative either: largely passionless encounters with men she barely knew or, if they did hang around long enough for her to get to know, rarely liked. She was transported back some 20 years, to when she was a girl of seventeen on a break from school. Daddy had brought her to work with him one day and, on their way to lunch, they'd encountered Jarod and Sydney. Her father had been beyond rude, of course, and ushered her quickly away. But she and Jarod had managed to exchange a fleeting glance and it electrified her. He had become a man, a handsome, remarkably well-built man, but in his eyes she'd caught a glimpse of that shy, sweet boy she once knew so well. And that night, as she lay alone in the darkness of this very room, she had thought of Jarod. She had thought of him and had been unable to resist the urge to touch herself. She vividly recalled biting one hand to stifle her moans, terrified her father might hear, as she guiltily used the other to bring herself to climax, hiding her desire from the whole world and, in the cold light of day, denying it even to herself. Here he was, the genuine article, determined to do for her what she had done for herself years earlier while consumed by thoughts of him. And, in that instant, Parker resolved to let him.
Jarod felt her relaxing beneath him, giving in, and becoming a more active participant in their kiss. Parker wound her arms around him for the first time, running her hands over the taught muscle of his back. It was no longer enough to touch her through the slick silk of her underwear and he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric to explore her bare flesh. He let out a low, predatory growl - she was so soft and so wet he could barely stand it - and she gasped against his mouth in reply. Parker whimpered in protest as Jarod raised his head slightly, breaking the kiss.
"I'll bet you taste as good as you feel," he intoned hoarsely as he raised himself up on his palms and propelled himself down her body.
Parker squirmed beneath him as she shimmied up her dress to grant him greater access to her painfully aroused body. He gave a shaky chuckle and remarked, "When you make your mind up..."
"I want a fond memory to look back on when I'm locked up in Renewal Wing," she joked unsteadily as she felt his fingers slip beneath the waistband of her panties. She raised her hips to assist him as he slid them off her body. Jarod backed off the bed into a standing position and instructed softly, "Scoot down here, to the edge." She eagerly complied and gave a fleeting thought to what the condition of her dress would be when this was all over. Deciding it was the least of her problems, she put it out of her mind. He knelt down at the foot of the bed between her legs and placed his hands on her bent knees.
"Now I'm sorry it's so dark in here," he said, his voice deep and low as his hands wandered up the soft skin of her thighs. "I wish I could see you... like this," he whispered as his fingers glided into her moist depths. Parker bit her lip and moaned, her body arching slightly.
"Mmmm..." Jarod moaned as he leaned into her body and caught her scent. He then began placing tender, teasing kisses to the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.
Parker let out a frustrated grunt and demanded, "Just do it!"
He lifted his head to gaze up at her, his chin burrowing into her thigh as he smiled peacefully. "Do what, Miss Parker?"
"Y... you know!" she replied impatiently.
"Say it," he commanded, "I want to hear you say it."
"Make me come, Jarod. I n... need to..." she trailed off, choking on her own desire.
"Uh-oh..." he remarked in a sexy whisper that betrayed a hint of amusement, "There goes another one of the rules. Miss Parker just admitted she has needs. What WILL we do with her?"
Jarod lowered his head and flicked his tongue at her, teasingly at first, but then with more vigor. He began to lap hungrily as his fingers plundered her inner depths. Everything he did was perfect and the pleasure was almost unbearable. It was as if he were completely familiar with her intimate anatomy, working from a diagram that clearly illustrated all her unique little spots and included precise, detailed instructions on how to treat each and every one. In what was probably her last fragment of coherent thought, Parker reckoned he knew more about where and how to touch her than anyone she'd ever granted that privilege, herself included.
"Oh, God!" she called out, clutching the bedspread with one hand and bringing the other up to her mouth in an attempt to stifle the sounds being wrenched from somewhere deep within her. Her cries were joined by Jarod's low, muffled moans and grunts of gratification at having her this way: completely opened up to him, exposed and at his mercy. He was surrounded by her essence, lost in the taste, smell, and feel of her, spurred on by her exquisite cries of ecstasy. His actions became increasingly frenzied, wild as he devoured her, everything so hot and wet, her body tensing, winding tighter and tighter by the second.
"Jarod!"
It was the same two syllables he'd heard her utter thousands of times - in annoyance, anger, sadness, indifference - but it had never sounded like this. It snapped him out of his reverie, allowing him to observe with a mixture of awe and adoration as her long, strong, lean body convulsed through a powerful orgasm. Jarod continued stroking and licking her until her movements stilled and her breathing began to even out, until he felt her shaky hand reach down to stroke his hair. He lifted his head and her hand dropped to caress his cheek. Parker managed a small smile when she realized that she wasn't the only one left trembling and sighed as he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. He then rolled back on his heels and stood.
"You stay put," he instructed softly before going into the bathroom.
Parker had no choice but to comply; she doubted her legs were operable. She heard water running then Jarod returned, kneeling down in front of her again. She jumped slightly at the sensation of the warm, wet towel against her skin but soon adjusted, propping herself up on her elbows to watch his dark silhouette as he tenderly and meticulously wiped away the physical evidence of what had just occurred. It was more than a little unsettling; it was bordering on the ridiculous. Hell, it was probably highly undignified but, again, she chose not to care. Instead, she just sat back and smiled wickedly, enjoying Jarod's worshipful cleansing of her body. He was just about finished when she slipped one leg between his and brushed her shin against his crotch.
"Man, that must hurt," she observed dryly.
"Oh... oh yeah, but I'll live. We'll see to it later." After the initial shakiness, Jarod's voice exuded both amiability and confidence.
"Later?" She repeated skeptically.
"You'll find the directions and a key in your purse, which, incidentally, a member of the staff was courteous enough to bring up here in case you needed to freshen your make-up or something. It's on the counter in the bathroom." He tapped on her thigh to signal that his task was complete and helped her lower her skirt.
"Aren't we being just a tad over-confident?" she bristled. Regardless of the circumstances, Parker hated being considered a sure thing. "What makes you think I won't stand you up, or that I won't bring a sweeper team along for the ride?" Brave words, kiddo, she thought, who the hell do you think you're kidding?
"Because if you do either one of those things," he leaned forward and captured her bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a playful tug before continuing, "I will spend the rest of my days making you live to regret it." He then sprang to a standing position and walked back into the bathroom. Tracking his movements, she was pleased when he flicked on the bathroom light as he entered. My God, he's beautiful, she thought, frowning slightly when he disappeared from view.
"Besides..."
He soon reappeared, leaning casually against the doorway. His powerful male form backlit by the bathroom light, he looked stunning.
"How else will you get these back?" He asked playfully as he twirled her panties on one finger.
"Jarod!" she demanded through clenched teeth, "Give me..."
He shook his head slowly, neatly folding and slipping the item in question into his front pocket as he paced over to her. He offered his hand to help her up and advised,
"Make sure you're not followed."
"As if," she shot back as he pulled her up and into his arms.
He kissed her again and she could taste herself on him. He positively reeked of her and Parker decided that she liked the idea of her scent on Jarod, marking him as hers. He was right; something in her had snapped that morning in Lyle's office, compelling her to stake her claim after all these years. Perhaps one day she would understand it, that is, if she lived long enough. This sure as hell wasn't going to ADD years to her life.
Jarod recaptured her full attention as one of his hands slid down to the hem of her skirt, then up under it to cup her bare bottom, pressing her against his still fervent erection. A moan emanated from deep in within him and, pulling back from the kiss he panted,
"I've wanted a lot of things since my escape but believe me when I say I've never wanted anything as much as I want to be inside you."
She chuckled throatily then whispered, "Well, you should have thought of that a half hour ago, genius, because I have to get b..." Parker heard something outside in the hallway and froze. She attempted to pull away from Jarod but he tightened his hold on her... Someone knocked firmly on the door then tried the knob in an attempt to open it.
"You in there, Angel?"
"Y... yes, Daddy," Parker answered while trying to shake Jarod off the spot on her neck he'd commenced nibbling.
"Is everything alright? You've been MIA for quite a while."
"I've just got a bit of a headache, that's all. I came up here to take something and for a little breather from the hubbub. I decided to give the medication a bit of a head start by lying down for a few minutes. I'll be down soon, I promise." She bit her lip to stifle a giggle as Jarod latched onto her ear.
"Are you sure you'll be okay? What's with the locked door? Let me in."
"Just a little safeguard against our more 'friendly' guests. Please, Daddy, I'll be right down."
"Alright, Angel," he conceded with a sigh, " but don't make me come up here again."
Jarod snickered as he continued to feast on her neck and Parker shushed him, listening as intently as she could under the circumstances until she was certain her father was out of earshot.
"Now, you go!" she ordered while laboring to extricate herself from his arms. "I need to perform some major triage on my hair and make-up and get downstairs before Daddy starts getting suspicious, if he isn't already."
"I wouldn't worry about him. You are an excellent liar, Miss Parker," Jarod quipped as he finally released her. She went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
"Lord help me," she muttered as she reached for her bag. Hastily opening it, she noticed a piece of paper drop out and smiled slyly. She took a moment to glance at it before slipping it back into place and retrieving her make-up case.
"I don't know what they're going to think when they see me," she commented with a dry chuckle as she went to work on her disheveled appearance, "I do NOT look like a woman suffering from a headache."
When she felt she could do no more, she gathered up her things and turned to leave the bathroom, announcing, "Well, this is as good as it's going to get so..." She sighed.
"Well, that's one rule that apparently hasn't changed," she whispered into the empty darkness, "Always leave without saying goodbye."
She strolled over to the bed, which Jarod had obviously taken the time to straighten, and plopped down on the end of it. Parker just sat there a moment, staring off into space. Exhaling deeply she intoned,
"Wow..."
Shaking herself back to reality, she quickly stood and straightened her dress before strolling out of the room to rejoin the party.
* * * *
"What a beautiful evening," Parker observed under her breath as she waited on the porch for the kid to bring her car around. She had actually managed to enjoy herself once she made her reappearance at the party. Who wouldn't after a 'nap' like that?
Her father seemed fairly oblivious and didn't appear to suspect anything, but then, he was probably somewhat distracted by the monumental task of keeping his lips simultaneously affixed to the derrieres of half a dozen 'VIPs.' Besides, as predicted, Parker had 'dazzled 'em' and, by the time she bid her adieu, Daddy was most pleased with her. None too shabby, she thought with a self-satisfied smirk, for a woman who had lost her underpants barely an hour into the evening.
Lyle was another story. He strode up to her shortly after her return and, bearing that obnoxious shit-eating grin of his, commented on her 'flushed' appearance. Her initial anxiety was soon quelled, however, as he not so delicately implied that she'd disappeared to have her way with one of the post-pubescent rented valets. When she caught sight of him later in the evening, on her way out, he didn't look at all happy and was alone in a corner sulking and drinking whiskey. She wondered if it had something to do with that quiet word she'd had with Mr. Sim, cornering him on his way out of the bathroom. That's Lyle: always a day late and a dollar, and a thumb, short.
Her car came speeding up in front of the house, tires screeching as it stopped too abruptly. Shaking her head, Parker marveled at the kid's luck as she glided down the porch stairs. Any other day and he'd have died a virgin. Even in darkness, she could detect his sheepish demeanor as he climbed out of the car. She slowly approached and he gulped, looking so terrified she thought he might faint. When only a couple inches away, she smiled and sidestepped him, slipping a bill into his trembling hand as she passed.
Parker sank serenely into the driver's seat then offered a polite, "Good Evening," before closing the door and speeding away, tires screeching for a second time.
The kid raised the bill up to his face and shined his flashlight on it.
"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, standing dumbstruck in the middle of the road. One of his colleagues sauntered over and inquired, "What's up?"
"Fifty..." he mumbled, barely audibly, in disbelief.
"What?"
"FIFTY! SHE gave ME a FIFTY!"
* * * *
"I must be out of my fucking mind."
Parker muttered under her breath as she switched off the engine at the end of a long, dark, deserted, dead-end road then glanced into the rearview mirror for a brief inspection of her appearance. She wet her lips then shrugged. Schlepping across state lines in the middle of the night just to get laid, she mused, how pathetic is that? She then recalled that she'd once flown to Italy over a long weekend for the very same purpose.
*Ah, Mario... where are you now?*
She chuckled softly as she climbed out of the car. She could hear surf pounding in the distance and smell salt in the air. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and sighed contentedly; the three-hour drive had been worth it for that alone. It was somewhere in the vicinity of 3:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning and, here she was, on a quiet, secluded speck of coast somewhere between Ocean City and Cape May, New Jersey.
Using a flashlight to illuminate her way, Parker carefully strode up the path through a small stretch of woods toward her final destination. When she reached the clearing, she paused for an instant. The cottage did not appear large but even in near total darkness it seemed welcoming to her. She felt a mosquito feasting on the back of her knee and reached down to swat at it before pressing on.
"No turning back now," she whispered as she unlocked the door.
She quietly crept inside and made sure the door was tightly closed and securely locked before peering into the dimly lit room directly to her right.
"Hrmm... hello," Jarod offered with a smile through a mouthful of chocolate cake.
She raised an eyebrow and bit her lip. Lounging on the couch in a posture of complete relaxation, he was a sight to behold, barefoot with his shirt unbuttoned to the waist to expose that magnificent torso of his. There was a tall glass of milk on the table next to him and he appeared to be well on his way to polishing off an entire layer cake, the type you find in the frozen food section of the supermarket. None of this would have been remarkable to anyone who knew him were it not for the pronounced bulge in his lap, clearly evident in the low light despite the fact that he was wearing black pants. Now THAT looks promising, she thought with a smirk.
He caught her gaze and stated matter-of-factly, "It just stayed hard." She eyed him skeptically compelling him to qualify, "Well, more or less. The smell of you on my skin, the taste of you on my tongue; I've been reliving it over and over since I got back here and, whenever I do..." he nodded in the direction of his crotch.
"So you decided to inhale a cake?" she asked sardonically.
"I thought it might take my mind off... you know... it was a way to kill time until you showed up. I certainly wouldn't trust myself to attempt anything requiring concentration. Besides," he added affably, "I was feeling peckish."
"Do you have any idea how bizarre that sounds?" Parker shook her head and chuckled as she moved into the room, tossing her purse aside.
"Bizarre? Maybe, I guess, but it made complete sense to me when I thought of it," he shrugged, "Didn't work anyway."
She glided across the room, stopped in front of him, and remarked coolly,
"You could have taken care of it yourself."
Jarod popped one more forkful into his mouth then set the plate aside. Chewing, he replied, "Nope, value my life too much." She snickered. Grinning like a schoolboy, he slid his hands onto her bare legs.
"That's new," he observed as he ran his finger over the itchy bump on the back of Parker's right knee.
"Brand new... just happened. That's what I get for traipsing off into the wilderness," she joked, reaching out to stroke his hair. Leaning into her touch, he closed his eyes momentarily and sighed.
He then looked up at her and inquired, "How did the rest of the evening go?"
"Better than anticipated, actually. I wowed 'em."
"Of course you did. You look beautiful tonight, Parker. That is one hell of a dress you're wearing." His voice was deep and low as he tacked on, "Please take it off."
She smiled broadly and pivoted, eliciting a grunt of surprise from Jarod as she plopped herself down onto the edge of his lap. He grasped her waist to steady her on his wobbly knees and started to ask, "What..." when she elucidated, "The zipper, genius, and there's a hook and eye catch at the top."
"Oh," he nodded enthusiastically and set about the task before him. He swiftly completed it then slid his hands into the opening in the fabric to caress her through the thin silk of her slip. His hands glided effortlessly around her torso to her ribs and, moving from the bottom to the top of her ribcage, he proceeded to methodically trace each one with his fingertips as if counting them. Parker closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation of his touch, moaning when he reached the top of her ribcage and cupped the underside of her breasts, lifting them slightly, teasing exquisitely through silk as he ran his thumbs over her hardening nipples.
Parker unconsciously began to flex her hips, rocking in his lap. His breath hitched, he groaned, and one hand dropped to her waist.
"Not close enough," he uttered huskily as he pulled her more fully onto his lap. She found her skirt riding up for the second time that evening, her knees parting to straddle his thighs as he brought her body into full contact with his.
"Ooh," she moaned as she felt him hard against her backside. His hands were all over her now and he began to place hot, wet kisses to her neck. Parker's dress slid down off her shoulders and she groaned in frustration when it hindered her movement as she attempted to reach up behind her. She wriggled her arms out of it and pushed it down to her waist then reached back to grasp Jarod's head and, turning her neck as far as she could, captured his lips in an urgent, needy kiss. Devil's food, she noted rather absurdly, as she tasted the cake on his lips. He broke away and panted in her ear,
"Your hair..."
"What?" she whimpered as he latched onto a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.
"Take it down," he ordered, his voice quivering with desire.
Parker feverishly yanked at her hair, pins flying in all directions, until it was down. Jarod reached up and grasped her liberated tresses, twisting them around his fist to create a lever, which he used to turn her head and recapture her mouth. Meanwhile his other hand slid beneath the dress now bunched at her waist then up under the silk of her slip to caress her slippery skin. She gasped and bucked against him; he growled hungrily in response as he stroked her, exerting enough pressure to force her pelvis back against him in an exquisite rhythm.
Parker slid her hands behind her, touching as much of him as she could reach in the rather awkward position she held. But it wasn't enough; she wanted full access to him, every inch. And this time, she resolved, she would not be the only one to come.
"I can't reach!" she cried out, "I... I need to move."
Jarod loosened his hold on her and she frantically crawled off his lap and flipped onto her back on the couch, those interminable legs flailing in the process and forcing him to take evasive action to avoid getting a spike heel in the face.
"Those have got to go now," he remarked wryly of her sandals as he struggled to get control of the errant limbs that eventually came to rest in his lap. Bracing himself on the back of the couch with one arm, he managed to maneuver into a kneeling position between her outstretched legs.
She cast him a fierce, ravenous look and he grinned wickedly at her.
"Now I am exactly where I want to be, Miss Parker," he stated with a wink as he lifted her right leg, bringing her foot up to rest against his chest. She raised an eyebrow and pressed her heel into his flesh. He narrowed his eyes at her, shaking his head playfully as he unbuckled her sandal. Sliding it off and dropping it to the floor, he placed a gentle kiss on her instep before letting go and picking up her left foot. This time, she slipped her foot out of his grasp after he'd gotten her shoe off, bringing it down to rest on the bulge in his pants and, mischief dancing in her eyes, curled her toes around him. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath.
"Well, come on!" she demanded, dropping her foot down and reaching up to yank on his shirttail. "I won't be kept waiting all night!"
"You? Ha... that's rich," he shot back as he slipped his hands under the fabric of the dress still ringing her body and tugged at it. "Parker," he chided teasingly, "I thought I asked you to take this off." She raised her hips to help him as he finally succeeded in divesting her of her dress. He moved to lower himself on top of her when she raised herself up on her elbows and shook her head.
"Lose the shirt, Wonderboy."
He hastily peeled it off and tossed it aside then moved forward. Parker sat up to meet him, running her hands over his torso, possessively exploring his skin. Alternating between kneading his warm flesh and gently dragging her nails across it, she moaned into his mouth as they joined for another deep, wet, probing kiss. They both fell back onto the couch and he settled between her legs, which she wrapped around him, her feet coming to rest on the backs of his calves. He burrowed his hips into her and they exchanged sighs and moans at the unbelievable sensations created by the glorious friction of their bodies.
"Ah... it's so..." he muttered, barely able to fathom what he was experiencing.
"Hot..." she breathed, "the word is hot, Jarod." Bucking her hips into him, she snaked her hand between them and grunted impatiently, "Let me..."
Jarod raised himself up slightly while striving to avoid breaking contact and Parker seized the opportunity to unbutton and unzip his fly, which she managed to do in remarkably short order despite her trembling fingers. She reached inside and cupped him, giving him a playful tug. He howled, almost as if in pain.
"You okay?" she panted, loosening her grasp.
"No... yeah, I mean, I c... can't stand it much longer."
"Good thing you won't have to," she replied breathlessly as she used both hands to push his pants down over his slim hips, taking his boxers along for good measure. He did his best to assist her until they were at about knee level then gave up, unable to bear using his hands for any purpose other than to touch her. Parker used her feet to guide his pants and boxers the rest of the way off.
Sighing with relief, Jarod sank back into full contact and she again tightened her legs around him. Parker could now feel him, hot and throbbing, against her. She met his eyes in a deep, intense gaze, licked her lips and nodded slowly, grasping his beautifully muscled shoulders as he reached down to guide himself inside her warm, wet, tight depths. Everything was silent except for the sound of their breathing as he slowly penetrated her, biting his lip and wincing at the painful pleasure of it. All the while he remained focused on her eyes, which grew wider the deeper he went. When he'd gone as deep as he could, Jarod froze and a look of wonder swept across his face.
"I'm inside you," he whispered, sounding incredulous.
Parker nodded rapidly and swallowed hard, her forehead knotted with tension as she bore the sweet agony of having him inside her, stretching and filling her like no one else ever had, and desperate for her own release as well as his. She reached up and stroked his face, running her thumb lovingly over the birthmark just below his right eye, a feature she had always secretly worshipped, and said in a soothing, if somewhat shaky, voice,
"Come on, Jarod."
"Don't close your eyes... please," he pleaded as he pulled back before surging into her. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and she dug her nails into his back as he did it again and again and again, his pace increasing slightly, at perfect intervals, with each and every thrust.
"Don't... be... quiet... want... to... hear... you..." he chanted, seemingly on the verge of losing control. He reached down and grasped her legs, pulling them farther up his body, around his waist, as he attempted to move deeper inside her. He then slid his hand between their grinding bodies to stroke her in time to his thrusts.
"Oh, God!" Parker wailed, "I'm going... I..." She never finished the statement as a powerful orgasm overtook her causing her body to twitch and buck beneath him.
Shouting a name so sacred to him that he had never before uttered it aloud, Jarod found his own release. Parker gasped in response, her eyes growing even wider, and he looked surprised himself. He had done it unintentionally, their thirty-year secret torn from somewhere deep within him by the sublime experience of being inside her as she climaxed. He collapsed onto her, breathing heavily as his face came to rest in the crook of her neck. She slid one hand up to caress the back of his head, making tender circles with her fingertips on his scalp.
"I'm sorry," he breathed against her skin, "I didn't mean to..."
"I... it's okay," she consoled softly, her voice still ragged from the experience. It was a damn sight better than okay, actually. "Only," she added more steadily, "just when we're here, like this." He nodded against her and, in the process, became aware of the silken material still adorning her body.
"Hmmm..." Jarod huffed, "I never did manage to get you completely undressed." He lifted his head, bringing his lips to hers for a soft, lingering kiss before pushing himself up. She groaned in protest as she felt him slip out of her body.
"Sorry," he offered as he sat back on his heels, "but I need you to sit up a minute."
Parker read his intention and nodded, sitting up and raising her arms to allow him to pull the slip up over her head. He smiled approvingly at the sight of her completely nude form, growling with delight as he reached out and pulled her toward him, both of them nearly toppling off the couch as he plundered her neck.
"Uh, Jarod," Parker asked breathlessly, bracing herself on the back of the couch as his head dropped to her breasts, "is there a... ah..." He latched onto a nipple, employing tongue and teeth on the already sensitized flesh. "...Bedroom in this place?" she managed to get out.
He cast his dark eyes up at her adoringly and nodded emphatically, all the while remaining firmly attached to her. Parker let out a combination of a moan and a giggle then demanded in a throaty, sexy tone,
"Then take me to bed!"
* * * *
"Yeah baby, that's it, that's it!"
Parker squealed, fashioning her voice into an artificially high pitch as she rocked herself onto his renewed erection. Jarod's eyes snapped open to find her grinning evilly down at him.
"Why you..." He yanked her forward, their bodies still joined as he held her tightly to him.
"The word is BITCH, Jarod," she said, slipping her fingers into his hair and pulling it playfully as she flexed her internal muscles, eliciting a strangled cry from him.
"And you wouldn't have it any other way," she added before he craned his neck to capture her mouth in a rough, sloppy kiss. They moaned into each other as she recommenced her rhythmic gyrations and all intelligible conversation ceased for a time.
* * * *
"Oh yeah, here comes number four!"
Parker shouted as, grasping her wrists in his large, powerful hands and pinning her facedown to the bed, Jarod pounded furiously into her, grunting and growling like an animal as he joined her in orgasm. It was mid-afternoon on Saturday and, having passed out from sheer exhaustion just before dawn and sleeping away the morning, they awoke to continue the erotic journey upon which they had embarked the evening before. He had grown more aggressive and demanding in their lovemaking, yet remained, above all, intent on maximizing her pleasure. Parker had communicated in no uncertain terms that she wanted him to show her the raw depths of his desire and, having coaxed him past an initial reluctance rooted in a fear that he might hurt her, Jarod was now more than happy to comply.
They again found themselves in what, by then, had become a familiar position, collapsed in a panting, sweaty, quivering heap. When he started to catch his breath, Jarod remarked amusedly,
"Keeping score now are we?"
With a shaky chuckle, Parker replied, "For each one you give me, you are absolved of one previous transgression. Consider it a NEW rule of the game."
"For the sake of expediency," Jarod proposed, "let's set aside the question of why I should seek absolution for actions taken in self-defense."
"Self-defense my ass, but let's," Parker shot back.
Ignoring her remark he continued, "What happens when I even the score?"
"I wouldn't worry about that for the time being. We'll run out of weekend long before that happens, although," she snickered, "I must admit you are putting forth one hell of an effort."
"Well then..."
Parker detected the smile in his voice. Rubbing his stubbly cheek against the soft skin of her upper back, where his head rested between her shoulder blades, he continued, "I must point out that you've miscounted. The actual number is five, Miss Parker. I believe you failed to figure in our initial encounter at your father's house."
"So I did!" she giggled. "Ah, well, I guess I was a little distracted. You really surprised me there."
"Surprised myself too. I've never..." he trailed off, unsure of the appropriateness of alluding to previous sexual experiences.
Parker fidgeted to indicate that she wanted to move and Jarod slid off her, settling onto his side facing her. Pushing up onto her side to face him and propping her head on one elbow, she prodded, "You were saying?"
Lowering his eyes, he continued timidly, "I've never done it like that before, y... you know..." He was now the color of her strappy sandals.
She reached over to slowly trace her index finger along the contours of his exceedingly pleasing countenance. Suppressing a smile she inquired, "And your assessment?"
"You mean you need to ask?" Jarod replied with a snort before capturing her finger between his teeth and nipping playfully at it. He took her hand in his, kissing her palm then bringing it to rest on his heart before adding thoughtfully, "It felt so primal, instinctive. Makes sense, really, since it is the commonly assumed sexual position for species of the Mammalian class."
"Besides," Parker quipped, "it's NAS-TAY!" She wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively, poised on the edge of laughter.
Jarod shook his head and, furrowing his brow, lectured, "It's not a matter of right or wrong, Parker. It's only through centuries of cultural and religious indoctrination that Western society came to view that particular sexual position as aberrant."
Unable to suppress the urge any longer, she laughed heartily. As her laughter began to subside, she teased, "There's no need to be so cerebral, pretty boy, the way you screw!"
Flopping onto his back and folding his arms, he huffed, "Has anyone ever pointed out that it is impossible to engage you in a civilized conversation?"
Parker again dissolved into hopeless giggles, bringing a smile to Jarod's lips as he stole a sideward glance to observe her merriment.
* * * *
Entering the bedroom with a tray bearing their meal, Jarod grinned broadly. Parker was sitting back on her hands in the middle of the freshly made bed with her legs crossed at the ankle. She had obviously helped herself into his duffel bag because she now wore one of his button-down shirts and looked positively adorable in it.
She had made her wishes abundantly clear: she wanted dinner in bed. Apparently she wanted everything in bed and neither of them had left it for any significant length of time all day until they'd mutually arrived at the conclusion that a shower was in order. Having managed to waste all the hot water before getting around to washing, they yelped and giggled as they endeavored to lather each other up as quickly as possible under the ice-cold spray. Emerging from the bathroom shivering and with a slight bluish tint to their skin, they snuggled up to one another on the bed in an attempt to get warm and, before long, were well on their way to defeating the purpose of the shower. Afterwards, as Jarod rested his head blissfully on Parker's belly and she tenderly stroked his still damp hair, her stomach emitted a loud, angry growl into his ear. Noting with a chuckle that they had not eaten a thing all day, but had expended a great deal of energy, he reluctantly disengaged from her caress to climb out of bed. Pulling on a clean pair of boxers, he observed that neither had worn a shred of clothing in over fourteen hours. When he confided that was a record for him, she appeared most pleased to hear it.
"I hope you don't mind," he offered amiably as he set the tray down on the bed, "I took the liberty of washing your slip - the label says it's okay to hand wash - you'll find it and your dress hanging in the bathroom."
"I see you offer a whole range of services," she drawled seductively as she eyed the bountiful feast Jarod had assembled for them and, smiling approvingly, added, "So, what have we here?" She folded her legs and pulled the tray closer as he moved around the bed to take his place beside her.
"French bread, green and black olives, marinated artichokes. An assortment of those stinky cheeses you like so much and some milder ones for me. Fresh pineapple, red seedless grapes... oh, and there's strawberries in the kitchen and chocolate sauce warming on the stove..." he paused and they exchanged a playful glance before he tacked on, "for the strawberries."
"Aren't you clever," she purred.
"So they tell me," he sighed.
She picked up the bottle of wine and inspected the label. "Shiraz from Australia... lately, I've..."
"Developed quite a taste for it, I know," he beamed, taking it from her to pour them each a glass.
Jarod watched with delight as Parker dove into the meal, eating ravenously and obviously enjoying it. He was pretty hungry himself and ate heartily but was so focused on her that the taste of what he consumed barely registered. A slight flush rose in her cheeks as she drained her glass of wine. Concluding that any beverage capable of doing that to Parker's complexion fully deserved to have its eminence survive the rise and fall of entire civilizations and span the millennia, he cheerily refilled her glass.
When she had eaten her fill, she leaned back against the headboard, still sipping at her wine and sighing contentedly. Parker looked more relaxed than he had ever seen her; she looked happy. And she looked spectacularly beautiful.
"Dessert?" he asked softly.
"Absolutely," she affirmed throatily.
Jarod sprang from the bed and Parker snapped up the bottle, leaning over to set it on the floor beside her as he picked up the tray and quickly sauntered out of the room with it. He soon returned, bearing a bowl of plump, luscious looking strawberries and rich, delicious smelling chocolate sauce. She bit her lip and flashed him a look of approbation, which he answered with a conspiratorial wink as he set the tray back down on the bed.
As soon as Jarod had retaken his position next to her, Parker scurried onto his lap to face him. He smiled dreamily, slipping one hand into her hair and bringing the other to the small of her back. Resting one elbow on his shoulder and tracing his earlobe, she gave him a sip from the wineglass she still held in the other hand and followed it with a tender, passionate kiss. He could taste their shared meal on her lips, the sweet and savory and the wine, and couldn't think of any adjectives powerful enough to describe the sensation.
"That's one hell of a chaser," he remarked with an adoring smile as she pulled back to take her own sip. "The wine makes your cheeks rosy," he added, gently stroking his thumb across her cheek.
"Are you sure it's the wine?" she inquired in a flirtatious tone and with a devilish glint in her eye.
"Only one way to find out," he quipped as he took the glass from her and leaned over to set it on the floor.
Parker reached back behind her to slide the tray toward them. Jarod's eyes lit up as her back arched, and he seized the opportunity to nuzzle his face between her breasts.
"Hey!" she giggled as she sat forward again, grabbing him by the chin and tilting his head up to look her in the face, "I swear, you have a one-track mind."
"I can't help it," he chirped, "I like them very much. They're so soft yet firm at the same time and so perky."
That's what makes him so good, she thought, his complete lack of guile. Jarod approaches sex with the same sense of wonder and curiosity with which he approaches all things in life. He doesn't come to bed with an agenda, only with an open heart and a strong desire to please. And please he does, again and again. She rewarded him for his beautiful strangeness by placing a sweet, tender kiss to his birthmark then picked up a strawberry, dipped it in the chocolate and held it to his lips. He bit into it and chewed, moaning approvingly and smiling at her.
"Good?" she asked in a low, sexy murmur.
"Mmmm..." he nodded enthusiastically then pulled her hand to his lips to take the remainder of the fruit into his mouth and, while he was at it, suck the chocolate sauce off her fingertips.
She picked up another, dipped it and, this time, placed it between her teeth and nodded invitingly. He chuckled with glee then moved in to capture the other end, his lips meeting hers as he bit down, and engaging in a long, hot, tangy, sweet, delicious kiss.
"And I thought chocolate couldn't be improved upon," he muttered against her ear as he slid his finger into the bowl of chocolate. She let out a deep, shuddering breath as he painted her lips before plundering them once more. He slowly, methodically began undoing the buttons of what was once his, but what he had already decided would now and forever be her, shirt, all the while not breaking contact with her lips. Only when he had parted the material and slid it off her shoulders and completely away from her body did he pull back to say,
"We're going to need another shower after this."
She nodded slowly and watched through half-closed eyelids as Jarod dipped all five fingers into the chocolate.
* * * *
Parker opened her eyes and squinted in the sunlight. She knew immediately that he was gone and sighed. That was the way it had to be, whoever woke first would quietly slip away without waking the other because, if they were both awake, neither would have the willpower to leave. But they had to leave. She had to get back and he had to get moving. It was Sunday; the weekend was drawing to a close.
Tomorrow was the beginning of the workweek. Parker would have to get up at the usual hour, shower, and dress for work. She would then waltz into the Centre as if nothing had changed. She was a pretender too and fully confident in her ability to pretend that the hunter and hunted had not become lovers. Yes, lovers... She couldn't write this off as a casual fling, relegate him to the level of boy toy, or consign them to the realm of fuck-buddies. She didn't know when, or even if, they would be together again, or how it would ultimately end. If she were forced to hazard a guess, she'd have to say badly, but that didn't change the fact that they were lovers. Nothing or no one would ever change that fact; it could not be undone.
She glanced at the pillow next to her and smiled, reaching for the cell phone that rested upon it before propping herself up in bed. She pondered the keypad for a moment then nodded.
"Upright infinity..." she whispered then hit auto-dial and the number eight.
"Good morning, Miss Parker," he crooned then, glancing at his watch, amended, "...make that afternoon. You'd better get a move on if you want to be back in Delaware by dinnertime."
"You sound awfully pleased with yourself this morning... make that afternoon," she remarked coolly with a smirk that evolved into a full-blown grin when she caught sight of his shirt laid out neatly for her at the foot of the bed. She reached forward to grab it and, clutching the receiver between her head and shoulder then switching the phone to the other ear, managed to slip it on.
"Well, Miss Parker, it's a beautiful day and I've been having a fabulous weekend."
She found Jarod's use of her formal name to be strangely enticing, perhaps because it served as such an obvious counterpoint to, and therefore a reminder of, the sound of him calling out her first name in the throes of passion. As she buttoned up the shirt, recalling his fingers on the buttons to undo them, she asked with a broad smile that he could hear in her voice,
"Anything else you wish to share?"
"Why yes, the thing is, I've got good news and I've got bad news. I think it's always best to dispense with the bad news first, don't you?"
Her smiled dissolved and she sat up straighter in bed before inquiring in a slightly accusing tone, "Okay, Jarod, what's this about?"
"Well, the bad news is that your car is gone."
"It's missing? Jarod, why the hell didn't you wake me when you realized it was missing?"
"I didn't say missing, I said gone. Missing would imply that I don't know where it is when I, in fact, know exactly where it is," he replied with a smirk as he hit the accelerator.
"You son-of-a-bitch!" she shouted into the phone. Tearing the covers off and leaping from bed, she demanded, "Turn that car around this minute and bring it back here!"
"Sorry, no can do, I'm already three states away."
"Really, and which states are those?" she asked more calmly.
"Cute, not funny, but cute. Now, do you want to hear the good news or not?"
She groaned in exasperation then snapped, "WELL?"
"The good news is that you have not been left stranded. Your chariot awaits."
"Hmmm..." she huffed as she went thumping out of the bedroom, wincing slightly with every step and thinking that it just figured the annoying little shit would have a great big dick.
Still holding the phone to her ear but not uttering another word, she stormed out of the cottage and through the wooded area, acquiring several scratches to her bare feet and numerous additional mosquito bites along the way, until she reached the dirt road, stopping and letting the hand bearing the phone drop to her side. Where on earth does he manage to find these things, she wondered.
"Parker? Parker? You still there?"
Lifting the phone back up to her ear she stated flatly, "That has got to be the single ugliest thing I have ever laid eyes on."
"Aw, come on, it's got that cool gold racing stripe!"
"It's shit brown! And it's a Gremlin! I'll be lucky if I make it onto the highway!"
"Now, my dear Miss Parker, do you really think I'd let you travel around in anything less than a roadworthy vehicle? It is late model, after all."
"Late model?"
"Yes, it's a '78 and, since I believe that's the last year the fine folks at the American Motor Car Company produced that particular engineering marvel, it's as late model as they come. Oh, and it's got a full tank of gas so I figure, all things considered, you've got an even chance of making it home. But I would hold on to that cell phone if I were you, just in case."
"I hate you!" she spat into the phone.
"I hate you too, Miss Parker," he responded tenderly, his voice full of affection.
She closed her eyes, sighed and let out a dry chuckle. Her own voice was soft as she said, "I would have let you drive it, you know. All you had to do was ask."
"I know you would have but I'm afraid that new rule of yours has acted as a bit of a disincentive to behaving myself."
She smiled in spite of herself. Great, she mused, now I can't even stay mad at him for ten minutes when he's stolen my car!
"I'll get you for this," she warned.
Smiling at the promise implicit in her warning, he chirped, "I'm counting on it!" then hung up. Speeding down the highway, he let out a loud whoop as he reveled in the sensation of the wind in his hair. He knew he wasn't free but didn't care. He was beginning to suspect that freedom was overrated and, under the right terms, captivity suited him just fine.
Parker stood staring at the little corner of automotive hell Jarod had consigned her to and pondered her immediate fate. She would make her 'journey of shame' home in this abomination, wearing the more than a little worse for wear $800 cocktail dress she had originally donned two days earlier as she climbed behind the wheel of a car hardly worth $50 in spare parts. She then broke into a fit of hysterical laughter, reaching up to wipe the tears streaming down her face. Regaining her composure, she turned to head back toward the cottage when it hit her.
*I never did get my underwear back...*
# # # #
