Red Hunted_An MFM Ménage Romance Page 9

  “I do, but I shouldn’t.”

  “You don’t want to go back yet, so don’t.” He extracted himself from the bed with great reluctance, and moved to the chair next to it. “I’m enjoying your company.”

  She glanced between him and her shoes, then nodded at the bed. “You don’t have to sit all the way over there. I’ll behave if you will.”

  Fuck. This woman was going to short circuit every connector in his brain before he was finished, and he’d enjoy every minute of it.

  PARKER PULLED HIMSELF from the meditative work state that had consumed his thoughts for hours, and glanced at the clock on his computer. It was almost one in the morning, and Fiona was still gone.

  Jealousy spiked inside. He didn’t have the right to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. He checked his phone. No text since the reply she sent several hours ago, shrugging off his movie offer.

  Was she still with Wyatt?

  Of course she was. And it was her right to be there.

  Envy gnawed at Parker’s senses.

  He sent her a quick text. Making sure you’re all right. Though she probably wouldn’t reply one way or the other.

  That didn’t stop him from sending her another note every half hour or so, until he drifted off around three.

  The buzz of his phone jarred him awake, and he grabbed for the device before he finished prying open his eyes. He focused on the screen and the lack of response from Fiona.

  It was a text from Rinslet. You’re up, traveler. Outside the Old Town Tavern. 6 pm.

  Fuck. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind for this. He forwarded the message to Fiona, along with a note of his own. I understand if you’re not there, but I’d like you by my side. Please? At least tell me you’re all right, so I don’t call the police.

  He didn’t mean it to be a threat, but she’d gone out with someone she barely knew, and vanished. Parker might be jealous, but that didn’t mean his paranoia was irrational.

  SOMETHING CHIMED IN Fiona’s dreams. A chirp. A digital bird? She frowned. No. That sounded like her cellphone. She opened her eyes.

  “It’s an insistent thing, isn’t it?” Wyatt’s voice, deep and heavy with sleep, sank into her core. He lay behind her, arm draped over her waist and erection digging into her ass.

  Last night drifted back—watching another bad movie, poking more holes in the plot, falling asleep talking about the most random things.

  Her cellphone chimed again, and she untangled herself from Wyatt. “I’ll shut it off.”

  “See what they want.” His voice mingled with the sound of rustling bedding. “Don’t ignore them on my account.” There was no animosity in the words.

  She scrolled through the string of texts from Parker, asking if she was all right. Guilt filled her at his concern. The spite that drove her last night was gone, lost in hotel pillows and a no-pressure evening.

  “What’s Parker have to say?” Wyatt asked.

  She was surprised he knew who the messages were from.

  He unbuttoned a wrinkled shirt and shrugged out of it. The thin fabric of his undershirt hugged every line of muscle along his chest and upper arms. “The two of you are attached at the hip. I’m surprised he didn’t call the cops.” He was casual, despite everything that happened.

  “He’s threatening to,” she said as she read Parker’s last message. His challenge was today. If she were still riding last night’s spite, she’d tell him to do it alone. She fired back a quick, I’ll be there.

  She looked at Wyatt. Her spite wasn’t completely gone. She was being a child. What good would it do to invite Wyatt along? Then again, maybe it was what she needed. What happened with Parker wasn’t going to happen again—he’d gone out of his way to make that point. So there was nothing wrong with her focusing her attention on another guy. Especially one she’d never see again. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Same thing I do every night.” A smile danced on Wyatt’s lips.

  “Try to take over the world?” she said at the same time he did. She laughed. “Jinx.”

  Wyatt sat next to her. “I’ll put world domination on hold for the night, if you have a better suggestion.”

  She gave him a brief rundown of the challenge, including time and place.

  He shook his head. “I really don’t do on-camera.”

  It was an odd hang-up for someone with Wyatt’s confidence, but Fiona wasn’t judging. “Come watch from the crowd. It’s sure to be amusing.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  That was as non-committal as it got. “What would you have done if Parker called you yesterday instead of me?” She wasn’t sure where the question came from.

  “I’d have enjoyed his company and wondered why he left you behind.”

  Was Wyatt wondering the same about her? Why she didn’t bring Parker? Did she read last night wrong? The questions left an odd bittersweet tang in the back of her throat. “Would the night have ended the same?”

  “Probably not.”

  She would have been comforted by the answer, but his cool tone didn’t reassure her. “Why not?” she asked.

  “He doesn’t kiss the way you do. And probably wouldn’t have stopped me. Not that I’m saying you were wrong to,” Wyatt added the last bit quickly. “But... Parker seems like the kind of guy who would have kept going.”

  Yeah, he was. The reality of Wyatt’s observation sank deep into Fiona, unsettling her more than the rest of the conversation. She couldn’t keep spinning this thing with Parker around in her head, getting dizzy, guessing and second-guessing his motivations. Or hers. And Wyatt...

  She looked up to find him watching her. She didn’t even know where to start there.

  Life was so much simpler two weeks ago. And the idea of going back to that terrified her on a level she didn’t expect.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Parker jolted from his half-snooze when the hotel door clicked open. He blinked the dryness from his eyes and focused on Fiona.

  “Hey.” His greeting came out a croak, and he cleared his throat. “Are you all right?”

  Her hair was mussed and her top wrinkled. It drooped off one shoulder, and she shrugged it back into place. “I’m fine. We fell asleep talking.”

  “He was that boring, huh?” Parker tried to keep the teasing in his voice. Jagged jealousy shredded him. Would it be worse if she’d fucked Wyatt, or if she was comfortable enough with him already that falling asleep made sense?

  She glared, then her expression softened and she sighed. “I’m sorry if I worried you. You look tired.”

  I was up all night, worrying about you. That was passive-aggressive. I was working all night. And that was callous. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep, but I was working until after one, so I would have been shitty company.”

  “How long do we have before we need to leave for filming?”

  He hated the tight rope stretched between them, threatening to knock someone off if he stepped wrong. “We don’t have to go until tonight. I called our scheduled driver for the day, and Grammie’s is fine with us taking a break, as long as I mention them in the live stream.” He raked his fingers through his hair, to keep himself from reaching for her. “I meant what I said yesterday. I don’t want this to destroy us.”

  “I don’t either.” Fiona sighed. She pulled a chair out from the desk and sat. “We’ll get back to all right. I promise.”

  “Don’t shut me out in the meantime.”

  Her lips twitched, threatening a smile. “I could ask the same.”

  “It’s a deal.” It wasn’t a conclusion, but it felt like a good next step.

  A WEEK AGO, PARKER in nothing but his boxers was a nice sight but nothing to lose her mind over. Now Fiona had to force herself not to stare. To pretend she could ignore the way his back flexed when he stripped off his shirt. To look away from his elongated form when he stretched, and push aside the rush of memories of him lifting her onto the counter... Sliding inside her...

&n
bsp; “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Planning my day. Get some sleep.”

  “All right.” He gave her one more look, brow furrowed, then climbed into bed.

  She sank low enough in the chair to rest her head on the back and stare at the ceiling. Trying to bury images of sex with Parker left room for Wyatt to slide in. Need tingled between her legs with the reminder of how he felt, hard and thick, pressing against her through their clothes, his rough hands sliding under her shirt.

  She shook her head and sat up again. Distraction—that was what she needed. She’d read.

  Fiona grabbed her phone and pulled up her book. In the background, Parker’s breathing evened out. He must have fallen asleep.

  She forced her gaze to the screen, and... landed right at the beginning of Nora handcuffing Zach to the desk. Which Fiona had been saving for when she was alone.

  What was she thinking last night, going up to Wyatt’s room? He was a gentleman about it, though she suspected he didn’t appreciate having to be. And there were more of those images again, complete with whispers of sensation—his hungry kisses, his low growls...

  Parker turned over in bed, drawing her gaze, and his blankets slipped off, leaving his back exposed.

  What the hell was wrong with her? She’d seen him shirtless more times than she could count. Logic didn’t erase the desire throbbing in her thighs, begging for attention. Her nipples ached, and she twitched her fingers, wanting to slide a hand under her bra, for a pinch.

  She’d watch TV. On her laptop so she could stream movies, and to keep the noise from waking up Parker.

  She grabbed her computer, plugged in her headphones, and drummed her fingers on the keys, not pressing any. What should she watch?

  Porn.

  No. She wasn’t doing that. Especially on hotel wireless.

  She needed an outlet. To grab her vibrator from where it was tucked under her clothes in the bottom of one bag, head into the bathroom, and take care of business. A quick self-polish, and then she could focus again.

  But the toy was loud, and she didn’t want to wake Parker. Did she? She glanced at his sleeping form again and shifted in her seat. Each time she adjusted her weight, the seam of her jeans pressed against her.

  Stay out here. The idea jolted through her, making her pulse scream and her heart hammer against her ribs. With Parker sleeping a few feet away?

  She undid her jeans and slipped her hand inside, over her panties. Damp warmth teased her fingertips.

  What if Parker woke up?

  The question tugged an invisible string that ran from her nipples to her core, making her sex beg for attention. If he did, would he watch? She liked that idea.

  A new boldness filled her, and she pushed her jeans to the floor. Fiona shoved the crotch of her underwear aside and dipped between her folds. She was soaked.

  Maybe he wouldn’t say anything. Or maybe he’d stroke his cock while he watched her.

  The idea amplified her desire, and she moved her free hand under her bra, to pinch and twist her nipple. She sought out her clit and traced circles around the swollen button.

  Would he be bothered if she told him she was fantasizing about both him and Wyatt?

  Would he want to make things more hands on? No. She wouldn’t allow that. Not this time.

  She stroked herself faster, lust coursing through her veins, and her head swimming.

  She’d let him give her directions, though. Tell her where to touch. And she’d listen to his grunts as he got close to climax. Watch him come as he watched her.

  The images danced in a collage in her head, until stars sparkled behind her eyelids. Orgasm built inside with the image of Parker jerking off while he watched her.

  She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out, and the bitter taste of copper hit her tongue. So close.

  She came hard, grinding against her hand and tugging her breast until she was too tender to keep going. Her body shuddered away from her touch.

  She sank back in the chair, letting euphoria wash over her. It took her a moment to catch her breath, and then the cool air of the room rushed in, pushing away her haze and letting reality back in. A glance at Parker told her he’d slept through her masturbation session.

  It was probably for the best, but that didn’t quiet the voice of disappointment.

  At least her head was clearer now. She’d take a shower, give her hair plenty of time to dry before tonight, so she could tame it for the camera, and then actually watch a movie.

  FIONA EXPECTED TO BE awkward around Parker after he woke up. Would he know what she did? Instead, the thrill and risk of it all kept wickedness dancing inside.

  The address he had for his Rinslet-appointed event was on the edge of downtown. A cluster of buildings formed an alley that passed through from one block to the other, and had a couple of cafe’s dotting the sidewalk.

  There was still plenty of light for filming, though long shadows ran along the concrete.

  “You sure you’re okay with this?” Parker asked.

  A hostess seated them at a wrought-iron table with matching chairs and brought them each an ice water.

  Fiona was terrified of being on camera. “No. But yes.”

  “You’ve seen me walk people through this before?”

  She nodded.

  “It’ll be the same thing with you. I’ll keep the conversation going, and you’ll to talk to me like you normally do. Not that you need to worry. You’ll shine.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a shy smile. His confidence would have to bolster her until she got more comfortable with the idea. Despite the flutters in her gut, she was excited. Would Wyatt show up? No. Any promise he made was to be polite, especially with the way she left things last night. She mentally slapped herself for letting her mind wander.

  Parker studied her while he fidgeted with his camera equipment. The handheld was tethered to his phone, to ensure he could stream, and he could clip the device to his head if he needed that perspective on things. “Is there anything you want to know before I start filming?”

  “I’m good.” God knew she’d watched enough of his clips in the past to have an idea of how things would go. “I’m going to duck into the restroom one more time and make sure I look okay.”

  “You look stunning.” Parker squeezed her fingers.

  “Thanks, but you have to say that. I’ll be right back.” As she pushed away from the table, she swore he heard him mutter, No, I don’t.

  In the bathroom, she let the icy water run on the inside of her wrists, and took several deep breaths to calm her nerves. She needed to not make such a big deal out of this. So what, if she’d agreed to let her best friend film her during an event they knew nothing about, for hundreds of thousands of people to see?

  She shouldn’t have thought down those lines.

  She stared at her sandaled feet and forced her surging panic down. One foot in front of the other, back to the table. This would be fine. The mantra repeated in her head.

  Parker’s sneakers appeared in her line of sight, and she looked up. “I’m ready...” Her thoughts trailed off when she saw Parker was talking to Wyatt. “Oh.” The word came out breathy. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

  Wyatt gave her one of those dangerous smiles that made her feel like the only thing on the menu. “And miss my favorite up-and-coming celebrities, performing live? Not for the world.”

  “You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like.” A thread of contempt undercut the sugar in Parker’s voice.

  “Nah.” Wyatt never flinched. “My table’s a few over. I’m happy watching from there.” He extended his hand. “Good luck.”

  Parker eyed it warily, then shook it. “Thanks.”

  “And you too.” Wyatt grasped Fiona’s fingers and kissed the back of her knuckles.

  She swore she heard Parker growl.

  Rather than watch Wyatt walk away, she took her seat as Parker took his. “All right, Mr. Carney. I’m ready for
my close-up,” she said in her most sultry voice.

  That brought Parker’s grin back, and he grabbed his camera. “It’s two minutes to six, so we’re going live. You know how it works. Little red light goes on—we’re on the air.”

  She took one more deep breath, then nodded. The light on his camera flicked on, and he pointed the device at himself. “Evening, all. Before the big event starts—and before you ask, no I don’t know any more than you do—I’ve got a special treat. A lot of you requested we bring Fiona onscreen, and after a lot of begging, and possibly a little soul selling, as far as you know, she’s agreed.” He twirled the lens in her direction. “Say hi, Fiona.”

  She wiggled her fingers in a wave at the camera and smirked. “Hi, Fiona.”

  Parker’s laugh was drowned out by the blare of music. “What the fu—” He self-censored and pointed his camera away from her.

  She twisted in her seat, in time to see one person push back from a table a few feet away, singing at the top of their lungs. Another joined them, and then someone walking by added their voice to the mix. In about thirty seconds, there were a couple dozen people gathered in the middle of the walkway, evenly spaced and harmonizing.

  “Are you freaking kidding me, Rinslet?” Parker asked, and Fiona looked back to see him talking to the lens. “A flash mob is so two-thousand ten.”

  “I think it’s neat. And they’re really good.” Fiona alternated her attention between him and the singing, dancing crowd. “Besides, I’ve never seen something like this in person before.”

  “In that case, and because you’re right—they are decent—we’ll watch. This probably took a bit of effort, so you’ll have to share your debut with about twenty-five other people.”

  “I’m fine with at.” Fiona was fascinated with the choreography. The tune was a sort of medley of Broadway songs, complete with the corresponding dance steps.