“Got a call,” she said. “One that was far more interesting than a date with me.”
“Zoe,” he said quietly. “You know if he’s on call and something comes in, he has to take it.”
She craned her neck and sent him her best bitch look. “You’re defending him?”
“Yes. No,” he quickly corrected.
She started typing.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I wore my best undies tonight in the hopes of finally getting . . .” She paused. “You know.”
A sound that might have been a groan escaped him. “Shit, Zoe, you turn me upside down when it comes to this shit.”
She turned him upside down? That was rich coming from him. “What, you don’t think I should be trying to get a life for myself?” she asked.
“Babe, you have a life. You have a brother and sister you love, you’ve got a job that you’re amazing at, you have Oreo who thinks the sun rises and sets at your feet, and you have—”
“What?” she whispered, turning to look at him.
His green fathomless eyes leveled her. “And you have a roommate who thinks you’re the smartest and sexiest woman he’s ever met.”
Because that made her heart scrunch in on itself, she broke eye contact and turned back to his computer. “You mean a roommate who has an annoying habit of giving a running commentary on my attempts at dating?”
“Just trying to help.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“What are you looking for?” he asked as she typed.
“A hookup site. I heard about one. Grounder or Gander or something . . .”
Parker choked. “Grindr?”
“That’s the one,” she said, and stood up. “But I need wine first.”
“You’ll need something stronger than wine for Grindr,” he said, and something in his voice—barely repressed humor—made her look at him.
“It’s a site for men,” he said.
“Yeah,” she said in her best duh tone. “And I’m looking for one.”
He took the bottle of wine from her hand, poured her a glass, and handed it back to her, waiting until she took a sip to say, “Grindr is a site just for men; gay, bi, curious . . . the only requirement is a body part you don’t have.”
Now it was her turn to choke. “Dammit.”
He grinned and took the wine from her before she could drop it.
She forced her nose into the air and strode back to the computer. “Fine. I’ll find a site more . . . suited to my needs.”
Reaching around her, he shut the laptop. “No, you won’t.”
She arched a brow at him. “Excuse me? No?”
“No. Hell no. If you want a connection,” he said, “then I’ll damn well be the one to give it to you.”
“I don’t want a . . . connection,” she said, and snatched the glass of wine back. She downed it and held out her hand for the bottle.
He held it out of her reach. “Then what the hell do you want?”
“An orgasm,” she said. “And that’s it.”
He didn’t blink an eye. “I think we can do better than a single orgasm for you.”
“Uh . . .” Her heart skipped a beat, confused in its abrupt switch from temper to arousal as it kicked into high gear. Maybe her brain wasn’t so quick on the uptake, but her body sure was and it wanted him. She took a step toward him, but then her knees knocked together as her nerves got the best of her and she stopped.
Parker just stood there, eyes hot, mouth curved in a warm smile as he waited with his characteristic patience for her to get herself together and decide.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Unfolding his arms, he reached for her, pulling her in. “Your heart’s pounding.”
“I think it was the orgasm comment.”
He smiled, his jaw pressed to hers, his rough palm stroking up her back while his other hand pushed the hair from her face. “You sure about this?”
She pulled back. “Yes. Are you?”
He laughed and nibbled at her ear, this time his lips lingering, his warm breath caressing her skin. “Zoe, I want you bad, and have since that first kiss on your porch.”
“But you said—”