Denying Mr. Parks (The Parks #1) (8 page)

Chapter Eight

My alarm woke me up that morning, and I did my usual routine of cursing with how much I hated it and begrudgingly crawled out of bed.

After my shower, I straightened my hair. On a Wednesday. Brushed my light olive skin with bronzing powder, combed my lashes with mascara, and swiped my lips with gloss. I threw on black-lace underwear, pulled black stockings up my legs, and changed into a black pencil skirt, a grey silk blouse, and a black blazer that turned up at the sleeves.

I walked into the office on time that day, and Clarke took his black, thick-rimmed glasses off when he spotted me. “Well I’ll be damned. Evey, it’s Wednesday and you’ve got your hair down.” Was it that much of a big deal? He bumped shoulders with me when I sat at my desk next to his. “I hope this isn’t a show for Mr. Parks, my girl.”

I made a point of expressing disgust. “No.” He was being absurd. I fancied a change. That’s all.

“Jolly good. Handsome is away for the rest of the week, regardless.”

I glanced sidewards, pretending not to care. He was away? Shit. I forgot. Oh well, I wasn’t bothered. But then wearing my hair down seemed pointless.

“I am wondering why he is prolonging his stay in this department.”

While I turned on my desktop and signed into my files, I shrugged coyly. “Maybe he has a lot to get through.”

Placing his glasses back on, Clarke shifted his weight to face me. “Evey, it doesn’t take all week to run checks at our firm. This whole building and the companies in it belong to him. Normally he stays in this office maybe one hour, two at the most, and that’s only to check in with his employees. It’s the same with the other companies in this building. Then, to my knowledge, he will spend the rest of his stay in his own office, or at meetings and conferences. The only times we ever get to meet with him is when he insists on individual meetings, or at our society dinner. So to be here, at this very company, for almost a week, is extremely peculiar.”

His desk phone rang, pulling his inquisitive eyes away from me. Thankfully. I softly exhaled in relief.

Clarke answered the telephone with his full-on posh, Chelsea accent. “Parks Law Firm, Clarke Muriel speaking…Oh, hello, Pumpkin—”

I swivelled in my chair to look at him. Pumpkin?

“My wife,” he mouthed.

Pumpkin? I laughed again, gaining Clarke’s attention. His eyes were warning me to be quiet, so I turned my head and began typing with a smirk.

When he put the phone down he glared at me. “What on earth are you laughing at?”

I snickered again. “You actually call your wife Pumpkin?”

I thought I saw his cheeks burn red, but he hid himself behind his computer screen.

“It’s what I have always called her,” he mumbled.

Then I felt bad. “Clarke, I’m joking. It’s kind of cute.” Erh. Did I really just say that? I may have puked in my own mouth.

“Stop it, Evey.”

I gasped. “What have I done now?”

He shifted in his seat. “I can see you smirking.”

“I said sorry, didn’t I?”

“Then why are you still smirking?”

“Why are you getting your head up your arse?”

“What’s going on?” Oh God. Carla had walked in on our small pumpkin debate with that face she always made where she looked like she just had a whiff of sour milk.

I looked over at her innocently and crossed my fingers together on the desk. “We were actually discussing the smell of sour milk. Can you relate?” I had to. I couldn’t help myself. Clarke flicked his gaze towards mine and covered his grin with a sheet of paper.

Carla tried to frown but couldn’t. Botox. “No. I can’t say I can.” Then she swirled on her heel and went back the way she came from.

“Good riddance,” I whispered to Clarke, who shook his head proudly.

“Evelyn Banks, you are a wicked, wicked woman.”

I rubbed my hands together, delighted, and made an imaginary tick mark in the air. One point to me.

“Did you get the invite for Saturday night?” he asked, tapping away on his keyboard.

“What invite?” I made sure I sounded distracted.

“For the law society dinner. Mr. Parks is an extraordinary host, and I must say, the WParks Hotel in Mayfair is a splendid destination to hold an event like that. And Pumpkin”—I hid my smirk—”is beyond ecstatic as the invite specifies we may bring a plus one this time. It has always only been strictly business.”

“A plus one?” That got me thinking. I could take Alex. “Count me in.”

“Jolly good.” He smiled and repositioned his photo frame of himself, his wife, and two children on his desk. I was the only one that didn’t have a framed photo of family members, children, or cats on my desk. I was okay with it, though. I didn’t need photographs to remind me of those back home.

Thursday evening I skipped my group therapy session and travelled down to Oxford Street to go dress shopping for Saturday night. Missing one session was fine, but Steph somehow knew all about it and went on at me like a barking Yorkshire Terrier.

“You can’t let it slip, Evey. Please make it the last time you miss one,” she said.

***

It was Friday morning, and I praised the Lord that I could almost taste the weekend. Steph woke up at the same time, and the scowl she threw at me over her coffee mug told me she was still pissed at me for missing my therapy. She hadn’t talked to me properly since.

“Steph, leave it out. It’s eight o’clock in the morning.” I rubbed at my aching forehead as I left, slammed the front door, and marched past the black Jaguar waiting to take me to work, like it had been all week. I was surprised he still came, because I never took the offered lift. I headed the same way I always did—to the Tube—and picked up my Starbucks on the way into the office.

I made small talk with Clarke as soon as I got in, then typed up all the appointments and letters that were needed from me. As I was finished by noon, earlier than I expected, I took a quick browse on a search engine. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to know who that dark-haired woman was. The woman Parks was with the other night. I had long, dark hair, so maybe it was his preference? I shook the thought away and quickly typed
Wade Parks’s girlfriend
into the search engine. As I waited for the results to pop up, I felt a strong presence enter the room. I pulled my gaze from the computer screen to risk a glance, and sure enough, I had a vivid, intense, green gaze pinned on me. My heart ceased beating when I saw him. I couldn’t pull my eyes off his. Shit. I thought he was away until Saturday?

I turned back to my task, trying to make out I was busy and started typing on the keys faster than I normally would have. Even though I had absolutely nothing to type. I quickly watched the photographs of Parks and various types of women pop up on my screen. Women who belonged in numerous issues of
Vogue
. I instantly stopped typing, caught Parks staring at me, and gained his interest. Carla, who was loitering around his arse, followed him, and they were suddenly walking towards me and all the pictures of Parks and the beautiful women linked to him that were up on my screen.

Fuck.

I quickly took the mouse and brought up last week’s calendar dates.

“Working hard, Evelyn?” Parks’s smooth voice poured into my eardrums and forced all the hairs on my body to stand alert. But those feelings were soon halted when Carla strolled to his side and glanced at my computer screen.

“I wish my job was as easy as that, mindlessly staring at the calendar.” She walked off giggling like a child, ignoring my raging glare. Parks stayed by my side and bent down so his mouth was almost touching my ear.

“You know that’s last week’s date, don’t you?” I felt his cocky smile against my ear, and before I could react, he took hold of the mouse.

Panic rushed through me. “Get off,” I hissed, snatching it back. He held on to my hand, trying to prise it from me, giving me no choice but to discreetly fight him for it. After a subtle hand brawl, he gained hold of the mouse and did what I was dreading by closing down the calendar to reveal the pictures I’d found. My body sagged in embarrassment combined with defeat
. Awkward
. I bit my lip, anticipating his reaction.

Parks gently let the mouse go and straightened up his tense back. I was expecting a hubristic answer or even a scolding, but he walked away and said…nothing. My theory was that he felt guilty about behaving the way he did when he had a girlfriend. Or that he’d been busted, which meant he couldn’t carry on his seduction. Whatever it was, my thoughts of what Parks may be thinking went straight to what the hell was
I
thinking? Why the hell did I care if he had a girlfriend?

It was almost home time when Clarke asked one last request. “Evey, would you be a love and photocopy this paperwork before you leave, please? I apologize for the last minute reminder. I have to be in court Monday morning. Nine o’clock sharp. Meet me there and bring those papers with you.”

“Sure.” I took the forms from his hands whilst he clumsily balanced three files under his arm.

“Tatty-bye, my girl. I will see you tomorrow.”

I frowned, not sure what he meant. “Tomorrow is Saturday.”

He looked up to the ceiling, shaking his head on a smile. “The society dinner, Evey.”

“I knew that.” I smiled and went off to the photocopy room whilst everybody got ready to leave.

I lifted up the lid, placed the first sheet of paper onto the glass screen, and began my copying.

“The answer is no.”

I spun around to find Parks leaning against the closed wooden door. His arms were crossed, pronouncing his toned biceps, and his greens were observing me with intent. Yes, he looked illegally hot, professional, and dangerous.

“No to what?” My defences were up and not coming down.

His dark brow peeked at my question. “I do not have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t see why that is any of my concern,” I scoffed and turned back to my photocopying, ignoring my banging heart, which felt like it was coming through my chest. I felt him walk towards me, and he slipped his hands across my hips and onto my stomach. I inhaled sharply as his hot, hard body pressed against my backside and he bowed his head to rest his chin on my shoulder.

“Then why search my status?” he whispered in my ear. He skated his lips over my lobe, sending a warm shiver down my spine. I was about to tell him to let me go, but he tightened his grip on my waist and pushed himself into me. I stumbled forwards, instinctively gripping on to the machine in front of me. He moved his hands from my waist and grazed them over my hips until he stopped at the top of my thighs and moved around to caress my arse. “Curves like yours need to be worshiped, Evelyn.”

The rasp of his words drove me wild with desire, and my body took over, relenting to his power. I pushed my arse out to meet his pelvis, immediately feeling his hardened cock against my backside. I bit down onto my lip as the low, appreciative rumble that left his throat vibrated through my body.

“Your ass is divine.” Parks caught my hips, spun me around, and then he was crashing his mouth into mine. I had no time to compose myself. He pushed me back against the machine whilst assaulting my mouth with his skilful, forceful tongue. I moved my hands into his dark, unruly hair and clutched it as I gave in and kissed him back. We licked across each other’s tongue in lust mixed with panting breaths and saliva. He took full control and started undoing the buttons on my blouse like he was racing to get me undressed.

Of course, panic set in then, and he must have sensed my discomfort because he stopped and took a chivalrous step back. My hands were braced on the machine behind me, and my black silk bra was on show through the top few buttons he’d opened. My breasts ached as I watched his gaze roam over the sight of me. They longed to be stroked as my nipples strained against my bra.

As though he could read my body, he stepped towards me and took my breasts into his palms. Impulsively, I tilted my head back as he stroked my elongated nipples with the pads of his thumbs, watching my eyes the entire time. When he squeezed them into his hands, my breathing hitched. Fuck that, I was panting. Parks’s breaths also became louder. They were still controlled, but I could hear his hunger seeping through. He deftly pulled my breast free from the cup, letting out a husky, male sound at the sight of it.

“Such beautiful breasts, Evelyn. I’ve been dreaming of what they would look like. How they would feel. I suppose dreams do come true after all.” He brushed his thumb over my nipple quickly, making me whimper under the heat of his touch. “Do you want my lips on this part of you? Tell me.”

His demand sent desire shooting through my stomach and swirling up a storm in my clit as it settled between my thighs. Oh yes, I wanted his lips on me, but I wouldn’t admit it. He bent down, and his lips came into contact with my breasts. He breathed against them. “Just. Say. Yes.”

I hesitantly nodded. A ghost of a grin passed his lips, then he took my nipple into his mouth. I sucked in a breath as soon as his wet, skilful tongue flicked across the flesh. My clit started pounding, so I squeezed my legs together to ease the ache. With tortuous sweetness, he rolled the tip of his tongue around my nipple and then wrapped his lips around it. I bit down on my bottom lip, determined not to cry out as I weaved my fingers through his hair. While sucking on my right nipple, he pulled the other breast out of its cup and took it in his palm. He then circled his thumb around my nub, making it strain against his skin as he continued to taste the other nipple, then he switched position.