The Haunting of Ashton David (12 page)

Her jaw dropped at the sight of a shirtless Parker wearing nothing but the tight designer jeans he’d worn last night. Thick tight sinewy muscles coursed up his arms, across his expansive chest, and down into the V of his defined abdominals. Even though they’d shared the night, she wanted to slide her hands through his neatly cropped, thick sandy hair and ride him into the sunset. God, what was wrong with her? She closed her mouth and swallowed using the back of her hand to wipe the drool that had escaped. How humiliating.

He chuckled. “Do you drink coffee?”

“Oh … yeah … I love it.”

Sputtering sounds announced a full pot of coffee awaited and Parker turned his attention away from her. She was glad because it allowed her time to rummage around for her shirt.

Once Bailey had shrugged on her blouse she righted her skirt and slipped on her panties. Wow, this scenario gave new meaning to the phrase
walk of shame
. She slid on her sandals. She’d just started folding the blankets when Parker arrived with the coffee. She took a break to sip the warm tantalizing liquid.

They exchanged no words as they drank. Parker seemed too comfortable in her presence given their night of debauchery. His eyes scanned her from head to toe and heat bloomed from her face and chest. She looked away from him and drained her mug. She needed to call Maura and hoped her phone was in her car. As unhappy as she had been last night when Bailey had left the club with Parker, Maura would have worn a hole in the carpet by now.

Bailey stood and completed the task of folding the blankets and then held them out to Parker. “Thanks for letting me crash here last night.”

He took the blankets and then lifted her arm, turning the inside toward his gaze. Worry lines formed as he took in the sight of her abused veins. Intense eye contact followed and his mouth gaped, full of questions he’d never ask. He probably thought she was an avid drug user, but she preferred that to the prospect of sharing the truth with him. She pulled her arm away to hide the bruises from his concentrated stare.

Outside somebody was whistling. She could hear footsteps as whoever it was descended the stairs. Shadows hampered her ability to focus on the body descending into the boat cabin.

“Bailey?”

Julian—the nice guy she’d met at the club a few weeks ago who had taken her on a very traditional date. They’d been to dinner and a movie, though she couldn’t remember the name of the flick. This was way beyond embarrassing. She looked down at her toes, “Hey, Julian.”

Walk of shame indeed
.

“Your name is Bailey?” Her eyes grew large as she turned toward Parker.

“Yeah you fuck trumpet, her name is Bailey,” Julian answered as he shot daggers at Parker.

“Yeah. Um, I better go. See you around.” She couldn’t get out of there fast enough. In her haste to retreat she stumbled at the stairs.

Parker caught her bare upper arm. “Easy.”

She caught a glimpse of the bright yellow of her sweater on the floor in front of the bed. “My sweater.” She snatched it up and tried the stairs again, this time making it out to the upper deck with no problem. She walked down the pier to the spot where she’d parked her Volkswagen Jetta. She climbed in and sank down behind the wheel.

As embarrassed as she was, she realized that she wouldn’t trade her night with Parker for anything in the world. He’d treated her like a desired possession and she’d desperately needed to feel desired again. She started her car and tried to psyche herself up for Saturday dialysis.

***

“You slept with her?”

“What do you think, Julian? She spent the night here. We weren’t playing Candy Land.”

He threw a punch that Parker dodged, sending Julian staggering across the floor. “What the fuck, Julian?”

“You knew I fucking liked her.”

“What?”

“That’s Bailey, the girl I’ve been talking to. Took her to dinner and a movie.”

Fuck!
He looked around in disbelief. “Shit. I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“You didn’t know?”

“I thought you were seeing a girl named Brenda.”

“Not Brenda. Bailey.”

“Anyway, I didn’t actually get her name before we … well … sorry, dude.”

Rubbing the back of his head Julian said, “You didn’t get her name. That’s rich. You know the only thing you’ve ever cared about is yourself.”

“That’s not true. I cared about Brook and she totally took a shit on my heart.”

“Brook.” He scoffed. “You only liked her because she wasn’t interested in you. If you had fucked her she’d only be an afterthought. Another piece of pussy to notch your bedpost.”

This time Parker threw a punch at Julian that connected with his jaw and knocked him into the wall.

“Mother fucker!” Julian spat.

“Bailey was never going to have sex with you anyway. She likes it rough and you’re too much of a pussy to take what you need.”

Parker went up top and sat on the deck. He hated fighting with Julian, or any of his siblings for that matter. The guilt burned in his stomach like acid. Julian had been so excited lately as he had talked about the woman he’d met and the dates they’d been on.

Parker scrubbed his face. Shit, why couldn’t he have fucked her like a normal guy? He’d been relentless, but her body had yearned to take what he had to give. He recalled the exquisite feel of her squeezing around his cock as he came and her tight ass closing around his finger.

Julian joined him on the deck. “You recover from your period, Julia?”

“Fuck you, Parker.”

“If I’d known she was
the girl
I swear I wouldn’t have brought her here.”

“Whatever.”

“I think she has serious problems anyway.”

“Just like every other girl after you’ve fucked them.”

“I’m talking real issues.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Drugs or something.”

“Are you just making up shit to smooth it over or what?”

Parker bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling at Julian. “No. I think she … I don’t know … never mind.”

Julian rubbed his jaw where Parker had hit him. “I’m sorry about the punch, and I’m truly sorry about Bailey.”

“If we weren’t brothers I’d have dropped you a long time ago.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you mean by that.”

Julian put his arm around Parker. “I have great faith that one day you’ll recognize your worth.”

“Again, no idea what you mean.”

Julian stood. “I came to give you a ride to your truck. Thought we could go to the diner for some breakfast, provided you put on a shirt.”

Parker felt bad about what had happened, but refused to let the morning’s events get him down. He hadn’t known this chick was
the
chick Julian was so gone on. And he’d meant what he’d said—the girl who had been in his arms last night was looking for something to make her feel alive. There was some depth to her that made him want to know more. For instance, she hadn’t drunk an ounce of alcohol yet she had those track lines on her arms that screamed abusive personality. He shrugged. Wherever she ended up, he hoped she’d get the help she needed.

Gina Watson is author of contemporary series romances. She lives in Texas where she leads a double life: university instructor by day, romance writer by night. She loves to be contacted by readers to discuss all things romance.

Connect with Gina Watson online:

https://twitter.com/ginawatsongina

https://www.facebook.com/ginawatsonauthor

http://www.pinterest.com/gwatson/

https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/6713553-gina

https://plus.google.com/+GinaWatsonauthor/

http://instagram.com/seaside3462

http://ginawatson.net/

Reviews:
Please help spread the word. Review the book at Amazon, twitter, facebook, goodreads, or via email. Tag Gina so she can read your reviews and give her thanks.

Keep in touch:
Join Gina Watson’s email list at
[email protected]
to receive alerts regarding sweepstakes, contests, giveaways, and upcoming book releases.