What She's Looking For (23 page)

Her hand, visibly trembling,
retreated to her lap, the fingers of her other hand still clamped in Parker’s
vise-like grip. What the hell was going on?

“Ashley, here it is.” Parker turned
his head to her, his finger tipping her chin back, forcing her to look up at
him. “We want you living under our roof. We want it within the next week. We’ll
arrange to have what things we think you’ll need moved to the house, and the
rest put into storage.”

“The things you think I’ll
need
?”

“Be quiet,” Parker snapped, the
edge in his voice making her catch her breath. “Yes, we’ll determine — Drake
and I — what
we
think you’ll need.”

“But—”

“He told you to be quiet, Ashley.”
Drake’s hand moved to her thigh, squeezing it hard enough to make her whimper.
He was even stronger than he looked, the concrete demonstration of it both
scaring her a little, and making her clit throb. “And now
I’m
telling
you. Keep it zipped until he’s done talking to you. If you can’t control
yourself, you’re going to be getting a spanking from me right after Parker’s
done with you. You don’t want that, believe me.”

She nodded dumbly, stunned into
silence. The prospect of being disciplined by both of them … was something she
didn’t think her brain could entertain. Too terrifying. Too hot. Much too close
to the twisted fantasies haunting her dreams the last few months.

Parker went on. “If you agree to
it, you need to know what you’re in for. It won’t just be me you’re subject to,
Ashley. You’ll be just as answerable Drake as you are to me. If you think
meeting my needs has been arduous, you’ll have Drake’s to meet as well. And
they aren’t necessarily the same as mine.”

“What—” she gulped, trying to swallow
some moisture into a suddenly dry mouth “—what do you mean?” She looked to
Drake, whose eyes met hers, the darkness there unlike anything she’d seen in
them before. It wasn’t a darkness of menace … entirely, anyway. More, it was
one of promise, of a new journey he had in store for her, his lust and his
dominance the diabolical tour guides, the taskmasters for her obedience, her
surrender.

Another cheer of the crowd roared
around them, but looking into his eyes, she heard it as if from a great distance.
There was only them, only this, the beginning of something profound, and
terrifying — and wonderful.

Parker turned her face to meet her
gaze once more, his finger brushing a lash from her heated cheek. “But you need
to agree to it. To all of it.”

She swallowed, dropping her eyes. “I
— I don’t want to … “

“You don’t?” The concern in
Parker’s voice made her want to kiss those cruel, sensual lips.

“It’s just that … I don’t want that
choice. But at the same time, I need it. I have to make it.”

“So then make it.” The back of Drake’s
finger traced over her throat, electricity rippling across her skin everywhere
it touched. “Once you make it, we’ll take care of the rest.”

“All of the rest, Ashley.” The
quirk of Parker’s lips and the flash in his eyes had a surge of moisture
slickening the lips of her sex. For one second, she pictured herself climbing
onto Parker’s lap, Drake’s hand wrenching her head back by her hair, exposing
her throat to his lips, his tongue, the searing nip of his teeth. She’d cry out
as Parker’s cock slid deep, so deep into her body, driving away all doubt, all
fear, and leaving only lust, and pleasure … and love.

“We have to have your agreement,
Ashley.” Drake’s grip on her thigh eased, his touch becoming gentle as that big
hand inched its way up the length of her leg, tingling pleasure erupting deep
within her sex. “Once you’ve agreed though, you’re in our hands. You’ll be
something more than a sub, and something less.”

“What’s that?” She almost breathed
the words, not daring to hope he meant what her dark, twisted heart hoped he
meant.

God, is this real?

Drake’s gaze met Parker’s, Ashley
holding her breath, and for a long moment it was as if everything else had led
to this point, the intersection of the roads of their individual lives — an inflection
point had been reached, and nothing would ever be the same. “You’d be a slave.
Our slave.”

Ashley sat back against the booth,
her hands going limp in theirs.

“So now you know.” Parker’s hand
wrapped around the nape of her neck, a gesture so possessive it should’ve
mortified her, but had rapidly become commonplace in his presence. “And you
know why we have to have your agreement.”

Her head leaned to the side, and
she rubbed her cheek against his forearm. “I don’t know. I’m … afraid.”

“We like you that way, Ashley,”
Parker said, flashing eyes meeting hers. “And you’ll have more reasons to be
afraid as we go along. But we’ll never allow you to be
truly
hurt. We’ll
always be there to protect you.”

Her breath caught as big hands
pushed her skirt up her thighs, fingers urging her legs to part further.

“Drake, they can see,” she
whispered, even as Parker’s hand tightened in the roots of her hair at the back
of her neck.

“It’s dark enough, Ashley, and
everybody’s watching the game anyway,” Drake murmured. “Spread them more.”

His hand slapped her thigh, and she
hissed both at the sting and the sound it made. To her it sounded like a pistol
shot, but her rational brain told her it probably had been drowned in the
general noise of the restaurant crowd.

Try as she might, she couldn’t
suppress her panting breaths as Drake’s big hand closed over the heated mound
of her sex. She couldn’t help but scan the crowd, terrified she’d find widened
eyes and pointing fingers. But thankfully she saw nothing of the sort — in that
sea of people she was theirs … but nobody seemed to notice or care.

“She’s hot as hell, Park.”

Parker’s breath blew warm against
her cheek as his hand clenched tighter against her scalp. “We’re waiting for
you, girl. We want your answer.”

“I can’t do this. Not now — not
yet.”

Part of her wanted to scream yes,
to throw herself down at their feet, and begin the journey her heart yearned
for — to make herself theirs.

But her rational mind knew it
couldn’t work — at least not now. How would she know she wasn’t doing this out
of fear? Was she reacting to them so strongly because of her age? Late thirties
and starting over again wasn’t exactly the dream situation for her, but she
knew that life rarely followed those neat plans, followed the path so easily
laid out before it.

Life was messy, and terrible, and
random — and occasionally — beautiful.

But which of those described this
situation? Were these men her saviors, or simply the next thing, the convenient
port in the storm while her heart and soul picked up the pieces? Most of all
she didn’t want to hurt these fascinating men with her brand of fucked-up. They
deserved better, deserved a woman who could be everything they appeared to
need. And though the thoughts of what might lay in store if she agreed to it made
her pussy seethe, her heart hammering with a lust that flowed through her veins
like fire, she knew the truth of it.

That woman wasn’t her.

“I have to go.” She grabbed Drake’s
wrist, and squeezed. “I have to go, and be alone. To think.”

“What’s left to think about, girl?”
She could see the dying light in Parker’s eyes, as it dawned on him, the hurt
at the realization of what her words really meant. These men shouldn’t have
entangled themselves with her, the sinking wreck of her life — or what remained
of it. No, this was for the best, no matter how much that look in Parker’s
beautiful eyes hurt her.

“Let her go, Drake.” Parker
scrubbed a hand over his cheek, releasing her nape. “She’s not ready. It’s not
gonna work.”

Drake delayed just that fraction of
a second longer than he needed to, that touch telling her so much, showing her
what she might pass up — the road she’d likely choose not to take. Then he
released her, his hulking body giving her space, picking up one of the menus,
as if he hadn’t just been holding her pussy in his palm like a treasured pet.

The server came back with their
food, and the three of them ate in awkward silence, Ashley’s sudden sorrow
keeping the noise of her surroundings at bay, as if her misery attenuated the
sound, retreating within herself to survive — alone. Parker had been right. She
wasn’t ready, but what was the true reason why? As she swallowed down the
despair at the possibility that her emotional fragility might cause everything
to fall to pieces, she wondered if she’d ever be able to move on, be able to be
that person she feared she’d forgotten how to be.

And if she ever did … would she
still be a woman either man would still want?

She could feel their gazes upon her
as she made her way to the door, their disappointment in her weighing heavily
on her conscience. And as she made her way through the snow, to the safety of
her car she wondered if she’d ever have the courage to face them again.

Chapter Nineteen

O
ne of these days Parker knew his luck
would run out.

As he jogged along the outdoor
track that traversed his lot line, the frigid morning air harsh against the
exposed skin of his face, he wondered how it might happen. Maybe it would be
something mundane: a turned ankle and he limps his way back to the house. Or maybe
it would be something bizarre — a cougar stalks and takes him down, the big cat
dispatching him and hiding his body, nothing found of him other than a shoe and
a bloody trail through the brush.

Drake always warned him to bring a
weapon when running, knowing just how deadly a cougar could really be to a
single human caught unawares. Even a human like Parker.

But Parker didn’t care.

Compared to the things he’d done,
and the things still left undone, being attacked and killed by a cougar, culled
from the herd with all the Darwinian ruthlessness Mother Nature often favored,
seemed rather quaint, almost romantic.

He slipped on a frozen puddle, the
chains on his shoes digging into the ice, sparing him from a tumble in the
dirty white snow.

The breath blew from his lungs like
a bellows, the cold biting, his eyes watering as he darted through the trees.
He’d run, no matter what, regardless of the pain. He’d always been running, and
nothing short of death — and perhaps not even that — would stop him.

Coming up over a rise, through the
branches he got a glimpse of the guest house, several hundred yards away. Was
she there? When he and Drake got home last night, he’d looked to see if her car
was parked at the guest house. It wasn’t.

He hadn’t seen her car all day, and
even though every hour she was away amplified his worry for her, he knew he had
to give her space. Give her the chance to decide for herself what the next part
of her journey would be. As much as he wanted to make all those decisions for
her, the fact was that the first one — the most important one — had to be hers.

He wanted to see her again, just
talk to her, hear that voice, that sweet voice that made him want to gather
that soft body in his arms and never let her go. If he had his way, he never
would
let her go — chains, tight rope, strict rules, and the unbreakable bonds of
submission would see to that — but after that night at The Black Rock, he’d
seen just how tenuous the chances of that working out now appeared. Just when
it seemed all was within his grasp, it looked to be a mirage, just a cruel
dream. Perhaps that was his lot after all? His penance for the things he’d
done.

For Jorge.

A branch whipped across the
freezing flesh of his cheek, the pain bright, like a blowtorch on his
sensitized skin. With a curse, he brought his hand up to his face, expecting to
see blood on his palm. Luckily, there was none, but he decided it probably was
time go back along the path with Drake and trim the fucking brush back — again.

The trail snaked through a close stand
of lodgepole pine, the trees providing enough shelter that the mist still hung
about at ground level despite the icy breeze blowing in from the east. He
negotiated the course with a precision borne of long practice. Running.
Fleeing. From what? To where?

The answer was plain to see, but he
didn’t know how to get from here to there, to go back to that place of fear, of
regret … and of naked, murderous rage.

For her, you will. You must.

Another assignment loomed, and
though he always tried not to think of it until he had to, it intruded upon his
thoughts more and more. Because now things were different. Now he had something
to come back to. Now, even if he died, his last thoughts would be of the one he
wanted
to come back to. It had been too long since he’d had a reason to
return, a purpose for anything other than
the mission
, a role to play
other than that of the instrument of justice, of retribution, and most of all,
of death.

You have to tell her,
eventually. You’re looking for a solution that doesn’t exist. She has to know.

But did she truly? Who was she to
him, really? If he divorced his lust, his fondness for the bewitching woman
from his thoughts, was she anything more than a (very pleasant) diversion? Was
the emotional detachment reasonable — or was it merely a rationalization, a
defense mechanism? Was she ready to learn how broken he really was? Was
he
ready
for what her reaction was likely to be at that realization? That her man, the
calm, cool Parker was actually a complete fucking mess?

As he made the final turn through
the open field behind the house, the pale yellow stalks of tall grass peeking
up from the flat expanse of pure white, he knew it was all bullshit. What was
the point in lying to himself? Of course she was more. She was more than he’d
ever expected, and that fact had crept up on him, by inches. As slow yet
inexorable as a glacier, she’d found her way into his heart. That black,
hardened organ that he sometimes doubted existed, had been opened by her purity
of spirit, the enticing prospect of taking care of her, of protecting her, and
perhaps if he was lucky, claiming her for his own.

But you can’t, Park. Don’t make
her pay. You’ve failed before, and no matter what you try to do, you’ll fail
again.

He sprinted the last two hundred
feet, the wind whipping at his face, grunting through clenched teeth, his feet
clomping through the packed snow. Walking slowly around to the front of the
house, breath rasping, throat raw, he thought of what Ashley might be doing,
what she was thinking — and if he’d fucked everything up by moving too fast.

The sweat was already ice cold
against his skin, the t-shirt threatening to freeze against his body, but the
core of him felt numb, immune to the chill, inured to anything, really. That
numbness was precisely the problem: it made his
job
easier, but it left
him
with nothing once the job was done. Just more numbness, emptiness.

Tilting his head back, he stared up
at the opaque gray blanket of the overcast winter sky. It was all so simple up
there, no complications, no regrets … just drifting.

Jesus Christ, what’s gotten into
you? Wake the fuck up. You better get your shit wired tight, Parker.

“You’re gonna f-freeze to death in
that t-shirt.”

His head snapped up so fast, his
world spun for a moment. Ashley sat huddled on the front steps of the porch,
her gray parka wrapped around her tucked knees, the hood covering that
beautiful sable hair. Her eyes didn’t meet his, instead staring at her booted
feet, the snow caked to the black soles.

Parker sat down next to her, his
arms draped over his knees, hands hanging limp. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back.”

“I’m not sure I have — yet.” The
wisp of her breath drifted out from under her hood.

“Then why are you here?”

“I needed … I needed to see you.
Missed you.”

Missed you. Oh, my Ashley …

He stared off over the dazzling
expanse of the snow-covered countryside, the crystal-clear waters of Lake
Chelan far below the bluff. The tips of his fingers were beginning to tingle in
the brutal cold, the crisp air almost metallic against the back of his tongue.
The quiet was the best thing about a good snowfall, the whole world hushed, the
troubles of life not so pressing after all, under that comforting blanket of
white.

It didn’t matter that he wanted to
pull her close, push back that hood and press kisses to her chilled skin, to
her eyes, hold her after close. No, it didn’t matter. She had to know how
things would go, that there were consequences for her actions. Even if those
consequences weren’t fair — even if they hurt him more than her.

“Say something, Parker.”

“No ‘Sir’ anymore?” He winced at
the bite of his words, but let them hang there anyway.

“Sir,” she murmured, almost to
herself, as if trying the word on for size again, learning the shapes her lips
formed to say it.

“Why
did
you come back,
Ashley?” Part of him actually feared the answer, as alien as that particular
emotion was to him.

She blew out a breath, and hugged
her arms around herself. “I’m afraid.”

Parker’s spine stiffened, fists
clenching. “Him, right? Even if Terry could find you, I’d—”

“No. Not him. I’m afraid … of you.”

He turned his head toward her,
feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

Ashley’s hazel eyes raised, and the
pain he saw in them made his heart ache, even as his cock stiffened to iron
hard erection. “I’m afraid of what you’ll do if I agree to this,” she
whispered, looking away, her gaze moving over the snowy field sloping toward
the road. “But what I’m really afraid of is what I’d let you do. What I’d
want
you to do.”

Heart thudding in his chest, though
not from the running, Parker touched her chin, making her meet his gaze. “And
what would that be, Ashley?”

“Can we go inside, Sir?”

With a slight squeeze to her chin,
he frowned. “Why did you leave?You knew we’d worry about you, didn’t you?”

Afraid it would lead to this, she
nodded. “I had to think. I’m lost, Parker, but I think I’ve found a road back.
I just don’t know if I’m brave enough to follow it.”

“Where did you go?”

“I got in the car and drove. Didn’t
even know where. Ended up in East Wenatchee, before I turned off.” She
shivered, looking at him from under the hood of her parka. “Every mile I drove,
the more I knew it wasn’t where I needed to be. It was the wrong road. So, I
found a hotel room in Wenatchee and crashed.”

She wanted to tell him how cold and
lonely that hotel bed had been, how long she’d laid awake wishing he were by
her side, his body wrapped around her, protecting her, the weight of her breast
jealously held in the firm clutch of his hand.

“You’re lucky we didn’t have to come
ID your body on the highway, driving with those fucking bald tires of yours.”

“Not sure it would matter.” She
shrugged. “Wouldn’t be any great loss to the world.”

There was a time a few weeks ago,
he’d have spanked her for saying such a thing, and she’d have gladly let him.
Now, the desperation he saw in her made him think twice about it. “Look at me,
Ashley.”

She met his gaze, those hazel orbs
making him want to swim in their depths.

“I don’t ever want to hear you say
something like that again. You don’t know, you’ll
never
know the lives
you’ve touched.” He swallowed down the uncharacteristic lump in his throat. “The
world would be a worse place without you in it. My life would be immeasurably
worse without you in it. You mean more than you think to this world. Don’t
forget it.”

A gust of bitter wind blew ice
crystals up against them, the chill sinking into Parker’s bones at last, but he
knew he had to be careful here. There was no rushing this, perhaps his last
chance to capture her for himself. For good.

“Do you remember what we talked
about at the beginning, Ashley?”

Those big eyes blinked, as if she’d
awakened from a trance. “Y-yes.”

Parker inhaled deeply, his chest
expanding as he fought to contain himself. Whether it was nerves, or lust, or
both, his control held by the thinnest of threads. “This running away you do.
It’s games.” His hand lifted her chin. “I won’t have them. Not ever. If you
want to try again, you need to make a choice.”

Ashley dropped her gaze then, and
for a second he thought she might cry. Then she did something that both stunned
and touched him.

She grasped his hand.

Her palm stroked warmth over his
frozen knuckles, those delicate fingers tracing the network of veins along the
back of his hand. “I’m scared, Sir.” She squeezed his hand in both of hers. “So
fucking scared.”

Parker pulled her hand into his
lap, placing it palm down on his thigh. “A last choice for you then, girl. If
you want to try again, really try — no bullshit running away — then I want you
to get up and go in the house.” He looked out over the expanse of his property,
the deserted icy road, the way the stalks of grass vibrated in the cold breeze
blowing across the snow. “You’ll make us coffee, then take off your clothes —
every fucking stitch — kneel in front of the couch and lay your head on the
cushions.”

Her intake of breath at his words
could just be heard over the dull noise of the wind in his rapidly numbing
ears.

Ashley glanced up at him, one
eyebrow raised. “What happens then?”

“Anything I want,” he said, his
voice much more calm than he felt. “That’s when any input from you on the rest
of your day ends.” He cocked his thumb over his shoulder. “If you decide to
walk through that door, you’ll do what I tell you to do.
Exactly
what I
tell you to do.”

“And what if I … what if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll make you.”

Her swallow made him want to kiss
her swollen, increasingly pale lips. “Am I going to be … punished?”

His nod had her biting her bottom
lip between perfect white teeth.

“How?” Her voice trailed off to a
whisper, though he couldn’t tell if the tremble in her tone was borne of fear
or lust — or both.

“In or out, Ashley.” Parker stood,
his legs already stiff in the icy breeze, regretting the fact that his warm-ups
did nothing to hide his hard cock. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring
down at her. Right now he needed to be strong, he didn’t want it to be so
obvious how much he desired her, needed her. “Walk through that door, or don’t.
It’s your choice.”

Those hazel eyes almost undid him,
nearly causing his stern facade to crumble under their power. “Don’t you want
to talk about this, Parker?”

His jaw clenched. “That would be
‘Sir’, unless you’ve decided not to go inside. Is this it, Ashley? Really it?”