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Leaning in closer he whispers, “Close that mouth of yours sweetheart, before I find something to fill it with.”
Parker chuckles softly, seemingly amused by my obvious discomfort. “Like what you see?” Shit—was I staring too long? “Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve been known to have wandering eyes.” A slight growl escapes his throat. “If you were mine, sweetheart, the only place your eyes would wander would be to the back of your head as I made you scream.”
“What, um, exactly was top of mind?” I ask, trying to hide the flush across my cheeks. Parker tilts his head, assessing my reaction. “Something with far less blood. I’m into a lot of things, sweetheart, but that’s not one of my kinks.”
“You can get on your goddamn knees and tend to the raging hard-on I’ve had ever since you sent me that picture,” I growl, pushing on her shoulders so she’s on the floor in front of me. “If you want this so badly, sweetheart, we’re doing it my way.”
“You do not want to go there with me, sweetheart,” he whispers huskily, his lips dangerously close to my skin. I press my palms to his chest, pushing him back so that I can stare at him when I say, “I absolutely do.”
“Well that’s only because I’m incredibly clumsy, and you seem to have a tendency to catch me.” “And I’ll keep catching you if you’ll let me,” he says,
Parker’s shoulders as he belted every single word to the song “Ride Wit Me” by Nelly, has been the best part of the drive. We were screaming “must be the money”
