Playing Dirty

But Parker didn’t smile back. “Me too.”


I watched as he disappeared into the men’s locker room before hightailing it to the women’s to get dressed in my work clothes again. I didn’t bother with the nylons and was waiting for Parker only a couple of minutes before he came back out. This time he had damp hair and smelled like soap and fresh cologne. He’d put his slacks and shirt back on, but hadn’t bothered with the jacket or tie, and he carried a duffel bag.

“Let’s go,” he said, glancing at his watch.

He drove us to my apartment and by now it was full dark. I had a good hour before the fundraiser started, but knew it would take every minute of that time to get ready. So I hit the door running.

“Make yourself at home,” I said, dropping my purse and coat on the kitchen table. “I’ll hurry.”

“Take your time,” he said. “Fashionably late works for me.” He’d brought in a garment bag that I assumed held his tux.

I showered in record time and blew my hair dry. I needed to figure out what I was wearing before I did my makeup, so I stepped out of the bathroom … only to stop short at the sight of Parker standing in my bedroom.

He was dressed in his tux and stood with his back to me in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of my bedroom. I was suddenly glad I’d taken the time to make my bed this morning.

He must’ve heard me because he turned around and I was abruptly aware that I was still wrapped in a peach towel.

Parker cleared his throat and took a few steps toward me. “I was messing with this tie,” he said with a sheepish grimace. “Bow ties don’t like me.”

That’s when I noticed the length of black silk around his neck. It was obvious he’d tried tying it several times as the fabric was slightly wrinkled.

“I can do it,” I said automatically, reaching up to take the fabric between my fingers. That’s when I realized what a bad idea that was.

Being so close to him wearing nothing but a towel was trouble waiting to happen, but it wasn’t like I could back out now. I ignored the way he was watching me and prayed he wouldn’t look down to see my breasts about to pop out above the towel. Concentrating, I began tying, the loops and method drilled into me by my mother, who thought that “all ladies should know how to properly knot a man’s tie.”

“You smell nice,” he said. “New perfume?”

I avoided his gaze. “Yes, I wear something different at night than during the day.”

“I like it.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

I jumped, startled, when his hands rested on my hips.

“What are you going to wear tonight?” he asked.

“Um, I’m not sure,” I said, my voice much too high. Almost done with the tie …

“I’d say wear that, but I’d get in too many fights for the way men would look at you.”

His words were low and roughened and went straight through me. I felt like there was a vise around my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs. I finished the tie, knotted perfectly, and glanced up at him with a tight smile.

“Yeah, I’d look pretty ridiculous showing up wearing just a towel.”

But he didn’t laugh. Instead, he leaned down and put his lips at my ear.

“Please tell me there’s nothing but skin underneath this.” His grip tightened on the fabric covering my hips.

“It doesn’t matter because you won’t see it,” I retorted, irritated at him for touching me, and myself for my reaction. I should take a step back, but I didn’t.

“I already have,” he murmured, his mouth still near my ear. “Remember?”

Ah. He was talking about when I’d been falling-down drunk in New York and had decided to take a bath, a predilection of mine when I was three sheets to the wind.

“I try not to,” I said.

“I can’t forget it.” His breath was warm against my skin, his nose nuzzling my hair.

My eyes fluttered closed at the touch, then flew open. Covering his hands with mine, I pulled them off me and took a step back.

“Me coming out here in a towel wasn’t a come-on,” I said stiffly. “Don’t treat it as such.”

His expression shuttered. “I never said it was.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you just so you can get back at Ryker for not believing you all those years ago,” I continued, laying it on the line. “And you’re not going to convince me your sudden interest isn’t all about that and not about us.”

I spun around and hightailed it back to the bathroom before I lost my nerve. Locking the door behind me, I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

“This is bad,” I whispered to myself. Because I couldn’t deny it. As much as I cared about Ryker and felt like our relationship was growing … my heart was still tied to Parker. And I didn’t know how to cut the strings.

*

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