Page 23 of Prey Tell
She smirks and gives me a cocky, little smile. “Is that why you paid for this party?”
“No. I did that for Jackson.”
NowI’mthe liar.
Her eager, hopeful expression makes me uncomfortable. And not in a bad way. Because something inside of me is singing at the notion of herwantingme to want her.
No.
I have to shut this down.
“Listen to me closely,” I demand. She snaps to attention, spine straightening, which doesn’t help a single fucking thing.Would you submit to me, Parker?“You weren’t the right fit for me. There are things I like to do…” I trail off, looking away like a coward.How is it that she can completely undo me like this?“You couldn’t handle it. And you’re too good for me.”
Her eyes sparkle.Fuck.I know that look. When Juliet gets an idea in her head, there’s no talking her down from it.
“Iwasn’tthe right fit? The way you worded that tells me everything I need to know,” she says, throwing my words from earlier back at me.
Andfuck…her face is full of expectation, like she expects me to do the right thing. But I’m not a good person, so of course I won’t.
No.
I have to shut this down.
I push her against the desk, my hands on either side of her hips. She inhales sharply as I press into her.
“You’re not the right fit for me, Parker. Present tense. You can’t handle me.”
Lifting her chin, her light green eyes bore into mine. “Bet.”
“Parker,” I growl, my eyes fluttering slightly when I get a whiff of her skin.
“What couldpossiblybe so bad that you want me to stay away, back then and now?”
“You think you could handle it, huh?” I ask softly.
“Try me,” she says, her voice low.
This is the closest we’ve ever been. My face is inches from her. For good measure, I take my knee and slide it between her thighs. She moans.
God—
Fuck.
“Try me,” she repeats.
And then she does something that shatters every resolve I have. Every single fucking wall, brick by brick, that I’ve put up since I learned to fuck the way I do. She writhes against my thigh. Just once—and she’s biting her goddamn lip again as I stumble back.
I’m so hard that my cock is straining against the thick leather of my belt. Shaking my head, I rub the back of my neck.
She is offering everything I’ve ever wanted on a gilded fucking platter.
“You think you can handle it?Fine,” I growl, glaring at her. “It’s your fucking funeral, Parker.” She crosses her arms.Fuck it. It’s not like she’ll actually show up.“My apartment. Two weeks from today. Nine p.m.”
Her eyes go wide, and I want to laugh. She looks unsure. Scared. Apprehensive. Like she regrets challenging me.
Juliet Parker is a good girl. High achieving, smart, prim and proper.
She’ll never actually go. But at least it’ll get her off my back.
