Addicted to Mr. Parks (The Park #2) (10 page)

He gave a casual shrug of a shoulder. “Meet them, find out for yourself what they’re like.”

I coughed on fresh air. “Meet them?”

“Yeah. I fly to America in a few weeks. It’s my mother’s birthday. She hates it if I miss it, and I hate her nagging me. I also have to go back for her annual charity dinner. Come with me.”

His reason for leaving London suddenly dawned on me. When Carla had mentioned it in a phone call in front of me, I thought the worst. Of course. “So that’s why you’re going back to America?”

His alarm wasn’t hidden. “You knew that?”

“Carla told me,” I murmured. He knew the detestation her name brought to my aura, so he pulled me into him to calm me. “Let’s not talk about her.” I straddled him, sitting on his lap with my legs on either side of his waist.

“Come with me,” he pleaded softly.

My mouth opened and closed in the space of a second. “But…we’re not…”

“We’re not what, Evelyn? And before you answer, I’d think carefully about what you’re going to say, because if you tell me that we’re not in a relationship, I’ll spank the shit out you.”

Drawing in a deep breath, I began contemplating having the shit spanked out of me, but I wanted my arse to rest for a while, so I changed my tune. “It’s too fast.”

“Why wait?” He was certain, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “I would like you to meet my mother.”

“And father? And twin?” And Jesus, it was too much.

“Jasmine is difficult, but yeah.” He shrugged.

Oh? A difficult sibling? Bring it on.
“And father?” I pushed.

He clenched his jaw. “Hmm, and my father.” The dry tone to his answer gave me reason to question him.

“Do you not get along?”

“That’s enough talking.” He pulled me into him by my arms and captured my lips with his. But I wasn’t done and made it known by pushing away.

“Do you really want me to meet your parents? Or are you asking me because you don’t trust me home alone?”

“
Home Alone
? Now that’s a good movie.”

“Stop dodging the question, Wade.”

He bowed his head down between us. “Do you have to overanalyse everything?”

“It’s called paranoia. I have that as well as a thousand other issues.” I moved my hands around to emphasise my troubles.

He crossed his arms playfully. “Tell me those issues.”

I copied him by crossing mine. “Oh? Well, Doctor Parks, where shall we start? Do you have all year?”

Then he wasn’t playing. He uncrossed his arms and sagged. “Evelyn. Don’t.”

“Then don’t push me into telling you things when I’m not ready to.”

“Then let me get you help. You can talk to a therapist about your health. I can look after you, but I can’t look after your mind, your addictions.”

“No doctors, Parks,” I warned him. I couldn’t see a doctor. That wasn’t an option.

His growl made my stomach tense and he glowered as a warning. “It’s Wade! Evelyn, you’re seriously pushing my buttons.”

I got to my feet and moved away from him and the sofa. “And you’re fucking with mine.”

“Because you’re being so fucking difficult,” he yelled.

“Oh?” I sassed. “Is control freak
Parks
losing control right now?”

He rose from the sofa, showing me how powerfully built and strong he was, warning me with a firm finger. “Evelyn. Don’t push me.”

“You hate that you don’t know all about me because it’s out of your control. Hate that I won’t see a doctor because I’m not obeying your wishes.”

“Stop,” he barked. He was losing his temper, and he wasn’t comfortable with that. I could see he wasn’t. I could see him trying his best to suppress the urge to flip out, to maintain the control he always struggled to have, but I pushed him.

“No. I won’t stop.” I jabbed him in the shoulder. “You want to call all the shots, but you won’t tell me about
you
.
Why don’t you get along with your dad? Why are you so against alcoholics? I know you are; your reaction when you found out about me showed you were. You know
all
about that illness, don’t you?”

He swooped his hands through his hair. “It’s not a fucking illness. It’s a selfish addiction that you can’t control.”

I gulped on his answer as it knocked my bravado back a touch. “You’re wrong. I can control it. And I don’t need a doctor to tell me otherwise.” I pushed him again. “Maybe
you
need a doctor?”

“That’s enough!” He lunged forwards, spun me around, and pushed me facedown onto the sofa in one swift movement. I yelped in surprise, but that didn’t stop him ripping up my baby-doll to expose my arse and giving it a hard, stinging slap.

“Wade, what are you doing?” I tried to wriggle free, but he held me down with his forearm. I couldn’t budge.

“I told you not to push me, Evelyn. Bad behaviour requires discipline. You just don’t fucking know when to stop.” His breathing was ragged, his tone rasping in a way I’d never heard from him—anger entwined with hate and fury. I’d always enjoyed punishment, hell, I’d even asked for it, but something was different now. Something had broken within him and flicked off that control switch.

He spanked me again, catching me on bare skin with the tip of his fingers, and fuck, did it hurt.

“Stop!” Finally managing to get myself up, I pushed my hair from my face, spun around to face him, and pushed him away with almighty force. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He stumbled back a couple of steps, blinking excessively. His anger evaporated in front of my eyes as he quickly came back to reality. He gripped at his hair, heaving, realizing the damage he’d done. “Shit. Evelyn…I’m—”

“You’re fucked up.” I ran upstairs to his bedroom and slammed the door, locking him out. It was only seconds before he was banging it with his fist. Begging and pleading relentlessly.

“Evelyn. Let me in. I need to explain.”

Sinking to my knees behind the door, I knocked the back of my head into the wood, closed my eyes, and began my breathing exercises. He hadn’t hurt me, not badly, anyway, but I was in shock. Not at the way he smacked me, but at his rage. How he switched to a different person within seconds. I knew he revered discipline, and I knew if we had any chance of being happy, then I needed to know why. But just the thought of that killed me. We both obviously had serious issues we couldn’t share, but we would end up tearing each other apart if we kept them hidden away.

“Open the door, Princess.” He’d calmed down considerably, but I could hear the panic and dread within his voice.

“Just give me space.” My voice was calm, but I was close to tears.

“Space? No. I need to see you. I need to hold you. Please. Let me hold you.”

I needed him to hold me too. But I needed distance more. “Give me space,” I repeated on a whisper. I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me, but the banging on the door had stopped, giving me reason to think he did as I wished.

I wrapped my arms around my knees and pulled them up to my chest, then laid my cheek upon them. That man who suddenly allowed his temper to rule him was not the man I knew. More than anyone, I knew how it felt to have your body possessed with rage. There was no stopping it. In his mind, I needed that spanking because I pushed his buttons. But what else was his temper capable of?

After calming down, I shakily pushed to my feet and padded into the bathroom. The mirror was right in front of me, so I pulled up my baby-doll and turned around. My backside was raw, with a red hand mark imprinted on it. I clenched my eyes shut and let the material slip from my hand to cover it back up, then wandered back into the bedroom. Finding my smartphone on the side table, I picked it up and wished I could call Steph. I ached to hear her voice. But then I wouldn’t have told her what happened, anyway, because I never told her much. She shared everything with me, but I kept everything bottled up. My feelings and thoughts stayed with me, only pouring out of my veins if I was drunk. It was becoming clear to me that Parks also bottled everything up. There was a reason why he didn’t get along with his dad, and I wanted to know if Parks’s discipline and temper had anything to do with it.

I raked my fingers through my hair, clutching at it in despair. We both needed help. But the only help we would accept seemed to be from each other.

I found my bag and rummaged inside for my iPod. I started listening to my second therapy—Ed Sheeran. The song was called “Give Me Love,” and I immersed myself in the lyrics before thinking about leaving the bedroom.

If I was anywhere else, I would have darted straight for a drink, but Parks was near. I could feel him. His aura radiated through me and consumed me completely. Bizarrely, he was something that could stop those urges.

Chapter Ten

I dragged myself around his apartment, inspecting behind every door and in every room, expecting him to be there, but he wasn’t. It wasn’t until I walked down the spiral staircase to his private lobby that I suddenly heard a thud. Then another. It was coming from a room that vacated around a hidden corner of the lobby. As I neared, I heard grunting, cursing, followed by more thuds. Rounding the corner, I found a small gym, but my gaze stopped on Parks, his image halting my feet. He was naked and punching the hell out of a punch bag. I watched how his powerfully formed biceps tensed as he swung into his punches. His balled knuckles hit the bag head-on and hard after every blow. I watched his abs tighten as he went in for another one. His strong legs moved back and forth in time with the bag’s motions.

He hadn’t spotted me, so I began to walk towards him. His eyes flickered up when I came into view, and he stopped punching immediately, coming to a stance, heaving out breaths, dripping in sweat, and gloriously naked. I tried to ignore how his cock grew hard as soon as his gaze raked up my body.

“Evelyn. Princess. Forgive me…I—”

I pushed my fingers against his lips and told him to be quiet. He kissed my fingertips and closed his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe my compassion and forgiveness.

“You didn’t deserve that. I should have walked away,” he said.

“Shh. I shouldn’t have provoked you.”

“No.” His expression told me he was revolted by his actions. “I should never punish you in anger. That’s not what I’m about. Please, forgive me. I beg you.”

My heart ached for him as I witnessed the agony flicker in his eyes. It ached because behind this wonderfully powerful man was a tortured soul. I had never contemplated that Parks would have any sort of demons. Maybe I was so closed off from the world, so absorbed in my own shit that I didn’t see his.

“There is nothing to forgive.”

His body sagged as he pulled me into him, wrapped his arms around my neck, and kissed every inch of my face.

“We’re going to be the death of each other, Wade.”

“Don’t say that,” he murmured against my skin before catching my bottom lip between his teeth. I moaned slowly, combing my fingers through his hair. My urges to have a drink faded.

“It’s true.”

“Don’t,” he warned, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around his waist. Making sure I was secure, he held me underneath my backside, lifted me up a touch, and pushed himself inside me.

“Oh…my…God,” I gasped as his lengthy cock opened up my channel, filling me completely. The strong muscles in his arms supported my weight as he pushed me up, thrusting in and out, slowly, but oh so deep.

“I need you to know I would never hurt you.”

“I know,” I breathed, holding on to the back of his head for leverage.

“I need you.” His moan was hoarse as he squeezed my arse and bucked.

“Then show me how much.” I bit his lip, sucked at his mouth. We were fully embraced when he began bouncing me up and down, plunging in and out of me and cursing.

“You feel so fucking good. I crave you every second I’m not inside you, Evelyn.”

“Oh, Wade,” I wailed pitifully. “I’m almost there.” I was on the brink. The way my clit brushed against his lower abdomen every time he bounced me on his cock made my core tighten, my sex clench, my arousal build. My legs tightened around his waist, and my nails dug into the back of his shoulders as I came around his length, fast and delightful.

“That’s it, baby.” He kissed my face, my jaw and neck, soothing me and supporting my dead weight as my body slumped against his.

Cradling me, he stalked out of the room.

“You haven’t come,” I realised.

“I don’t deserve to.” He carried me up the stairs and into his bedroom, where he gently placed me on his bed. “What are you thinking?” he asked, pushing my hair behind my ear.

After a beat, I told him honestly. “That I should leave.”

His breath caught as his hand stilled on my cheek. “No. You can’t leave.”

I sat up straight, holding the sheets to my chest. “Wade.” I called him by his first name because I wasn’t ready to have another fight about a damn name. “I’ve been here a day and we’ve already torn each other apart.”

“Evelyn, please don’t leave on the grounds of my mistake. When I see red, I flip out. I should have controlled it.” He looked away from me, scolding himself, beating himself up about it. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“That’s where we’re similar, Wade. I can’t control my temper, either. I can’t control what comes out of my mouth, and I can’t control myself. But the one thing I seem to control around you is my drinking habit. I see you, I walk into your arms, and my dirty desire is suppressed.”

Those green eyes of his suddenly lit up, and he pulled me into his arms. “Then you need to stay with me. I’m your solace; you said it yourself. Don’t do this.”

His pleading tone had me deflating in his arms. Had me doing something I would never normally do. Give in
.
He kissed along my jaw and down my neck and lay down with me, stroking my hair away from my forehead.

“This time we stay with each other. Wrapped in each other. No running.”

“No running,” I whispered, starring dreamily into his eyes.

If we were going to make it work, then we had to try our best not to turn it into a nightmare. My entire life had been a living nightmare. Nothing ever went right for me, and I’d got used to that. But I yearned desperately for normality, and if Parks and I had any chance of that four-letter word—
hope
—then there was to be no running.