Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“You’re out of condoms,” I replied as I picked up my boxers from where I’d dropped them, and pulled them on.
“What?” Parker lurched upright to sit on the edge of his bed while digging through the nightstand. I was buckling my belt when his laughter rang out through the room, and he flopped on the mattress with a bounce. It was his fault that there would be no second round today. “Whatever.” He turned those devilish eyes on me and licked his lips. “Sucking each other is fun, too.”
My dick attempted to answer with a throb of interest, but I squashed that idea. “No. I have work to do.”
Parker sighed. “Boring.” But he didn’t attempt to change my mind. He pushed off the bed and walked over to the dresser, where he pulled out a pair of shorts. He slipped those on as I finished dressing.
As I followed him down the hall to the front door of his apartment, my gaze slipped through the open doorway to the other bedroom that was stuffed full of painted canvas, wooden easels, and paint supplies. I’d glimpsed the contents of that room on my first visit to his place and had made the mistake of assuming he worked as a professional artist full-time.
In the living room, there was the standard sofa and coffee table, but we rarely spent any time there. Falling off the sofa once was enough to teach me that it was safer to fuck him against the wall or on the bed. But today, the coffee table held a stack of pink and yellow baby clothes and a large box for a car seat.
“Someone in your family have a baby?” The words tumbled off my tongue before I could catch them.
When Parker and I had started sleeping together, we’d been careful to keep it impersonal. Yet, this had been going on for roughly nine months, and I found we were both slipping up and asking questions. I couldn’t help it. As insane as Parker seemed, he was an intriguing guy. Something inside me craved more information about him. Each nugget I received was a tiny treasure that I hoarded.
“Huh?” Parker spun around, his eyes searching the living room to finally settle on the coffee table. “Oh! My best friend, Molly, had her first about six months ago. She ordered some stuff, but had it delivered to my house by mistake. I’m supposed to drop it off tomorrow.” He paused and cocked his head slightly to the side as he stared at me. “Do you have any kids?”
“No!” I gasped and even lurched back a step. The very idea was horrific. Kids? Me? Never. Absolutely not.
Parker laughed so hard, he stumbled drunkenly to his left and had to catch himself on the wall to keep from falling over. “Oh, my fucking God. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Funny.” I glared at him, but it had zero effect as always.
“Man…wow…I’m dead,” Parker panted, still trying to drag his giggles under control. “Got it. No kids for you.”
“No. No kids. Ever. It would not be a good match.”
Parker shrugged. “I’ve never given it much thought myself. Maybe later in life.” He continued to the front door, appearing as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He held the door open for me and pushed a tight smile onto his lips. “Same time next week?”
“I’ll contact you if something comes up.”
“Same.” And then he added because he couldn’t seem to help himself. “See you at the office on Monday, Boss.”
2
PARKER CAIN
“Paarrrrkerrr…”
The saccharine sweet voice had a way of making my eye twitch and left me wanting to grind my teeth. Charlotte struck me as the type who’d discovered early on that men would do whatever she wanted if she used that high-pitched tone and batted her big eyes. It was a shame, because it undermined how intelligent and self-sufficient she really was.
“Still gay,” I reminded her in a matching high-pitched singsong voice. Her damsel-in-distress act wasn’t doing shit for me, and she knew it. I think she fell back on it out of habit.
A short woman in a pencil skirt and a fierce glare appeared in the open doorway of my office. I grinned at her, and she could only huff. “Could you do me a favor?” she asked in her normal voice.
“Is this a research favor, or an ask-the-boss-a-question favor?”
“The latter.”
My grin shifted into a sly smirk. “You know my price.”
Charlotte squeaked and did a triumphant bounce as she held up a small white paper bag with the logo for the nearby coffeeshop. “I got their last chocolate chip scone.”
I nodded, and she hurried into my office to put the offering on the corner of my desk. “He asked me to do a cost analysis and projection for the large machinery division, but I forgot to ask him whether he wanted it for just our current raw material suppliers or if I should include industry-wide cost projections for the next year. Could you ask him for me?”