Parker's Story Ch. 03: Houses

Parker raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you. You're too mellow, it's weird. Tell me what's going on," he urged. Parker could only stare at him, confused. That only worked to irritate him. "Are you seeing someone?"

Whatever she'd been expecting, that wasn't it. He thought she was relaxed because of a man? "What do you care?" It was a snotty response but she couldn't help it. Grayson set his sandwich down with deliberate slowness.

"Answer the question, Parker." His use of her name made her gulp.

"No."

"No?"

"That's right, no. It's not your business." She tightened her lips, making it difficult to eat her lunch. Grayson glared at her but she refused to look at him. "Not that it matters now. You've completely ruined my good mood." She could practically hear him say good and he went back to his sandwich. They finished eating in a tense silence that Parker pretended not to notice and as soon as she was done, she hopped off the stool and started stomping—no, marching—back to her own classroom.

"Let's grade together again," Grayson said, his voice tight. Parker stopped but didn't turn around. "Even though you're being a brat," he added. Her throat tightened and the blood in her veins grew cold. The last person who'd called her a brat . . .

"Fine. My house this time." Not that I didn't like yours, she thought, but didn't say it. She was still too annoyed.

"I'll follow you," he said. Parker nodded and left the room.

Parker clutched the wheel of her car with one hand and, with just as much force, clutched a cigarette with the other. She lived further out from the school than Grayson and she'd used the extra alone time to panic and smoke half a pack of cigarettes. Finally turning onto her street, she glanced at his car in the rear view mirror and pictured his stern face. Another cigarette was between her lips in a heartbeat.

I shouldn't have agreed to this, she thought for the twentieth time since getting into her car. With one last regretful pull of smoke into her lungs she turned into her driveway and killed the engine. Grayson pulled in behind her and she heard his car door shut and footsteps crunching on the gravel. She stayed in her smoke-filled cocoon, closing her eyes, until her door was opened for her. Parker forced herself to get out.

"Good god, woman. Was that really necessary?" Grayson was waving away the cloud of smoke that lingered, eyes watering. She grinned cheekily. "Alright, lead the way." Her smile vanished.

"Okay." He walked beside her, making sure not to brush her arm as they went up the steps. She fumbled with the key but managed to get the door unlocked and she waved him inside but he shook his head. Rolling her eyes, she went in and flicked the lights on. While she put her jacket and keys on the hooks next to the door Grayson stared around her house and whistled.

"This is exactly what I was expecting." He took in the sprawling lower level that was completely open and uninterrupted, save for the bathroom with its smoke-glass walls. The living room, dining room, and kitchen seamlessly flowed together. The staircase to the left led up to the exposed bedroom that overlooked the dining room.

"It's really just meant for the one person," she said, eyes darting up to the railing that did little to hide her bedroom from view.

"I can see that. It's cozy. Serene." He nodded to himself. Feeling uncomfortable, Parker went into the kitchen and started looking through the fridge. She wanted to give him dinner since he'd done the same at his house, but all she had was leftovers.

"Want something to drink? I have water, orange juice, and about half a bottle of dessert wine." Grayson chuckled.

"You keep your wine in the fridge?"

"You keep your books on the floor, are you really judging me right now?"

"Jeez, so snappy. I'll have some water, please." She poured two glasses and slid one over the bar to him. She stood in the kitchen and drank hers, her hip pressing into the sharp corner of the countertop. Grayson watched her with a quizzical expression but didn't comment. "I don't have anything to eat," she admitted after a while.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes, are you?" Grayson nodded. "Alright, there's a Chinese place around the corner that sells good vegetarian food. And no, before you ask, I'm not vegetarian. It's just the healthiest option at places like that."

"I think the healthiest option at a Chinese restaurant is plain rice. But that is vegetarian, so never mind." Parker resisted the urge to flash a smug smile. "We can go now if you want."

"Alright." She pulled her jacket back on and grabbed the keys, following him outside. She made for her car but Grayson grabbed her arm.

"Why not walk?" he asked. Parker shrugged and started leading the way after waiting for Grayson to release her. He did so hesitantly. They walked a few paces in silence. "You're upset about earlier." It wasn't a question so Parker didn't answer and he continued on quickly. "I honestly don't know why you'd be upset but I'm pretty sure you are, so I'm sorry."

His words were bait and she knew enough not to take it. They turned the corner and she could see the Grand Wok sign glowing at the end of the block. "What do you have to grade today? I didn't see any sculptures or anything in your car."

Grayson seemed miffed that his questions were being ignored but he still answered. "I had the advanced kids write a paper on their favorite period of art. Been putting it off for about a week now, so I need to get it done."

"What if you were writing the paper? What would your topic be?" she asked, genuinely curious. Other than his love of ceramics and sculpture, she didn't actually know that much about him.

"The abstract expressionism era." Parker's eyes widened. "All of that seemingly random beauty, a thousand different ideas and feelings exploding to life on a canvas but still holding so much back. The withholding aspect must remind me of my mother." His tone lightened and Parker giggled. "Your turn." She didn't have to think.

"Abstract expressionism." She glanced sideways at Grayson. "I love color fields. They can eat up entire rooms and still not be big enough for me." She had a replica of Mark Rothko's No. 61 in her bedroom, not that Grayson would ever see it.

"Again, exactly what I suspected." His tone was smug.

"Oh, shut up," she snapped. "You don't know me that well." Grayson was about to respond but they'd gotten to the restaurant and she pushed in front of him, 'accidentally' elbowing him in the process. He grinned. "Hey, Lana. The usual to go, please, and whatever this one wants." She pointed roughly to Grayson who nodded politely to the woman behind the counter.

"An order of lo mein, please." Lana scribbled something down and went into the back room where shouts could be heard. Parker slid into a booth to wait and instead of sitting across from her, Grayson sat next to her. The bench was too small to edge away from him so they sat shoulder-to-shoulder and she stared ahead.

"Why would you do that?"

"Do what?" He seemed genuinely confused.

"This." She looked at the lack of space between them and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Would you rather I moved, Parker?" He shifted slightly to face her without losing the contact. She could smell the leather of his jacket and the heady musk on his skin that somehow reminded her of hiking through the forest and kissing in the rain.

"Yes," she lied, noticing the way his knee rubbed against her leg under the table.

"Okay." Before she could protest he got out of the booth and sat in the one across from her. The way he stared at her made it clear he knew she was lying. Parker wiped her palms on her thighs and pretended to be interested in the painting of the Great Wall on the other side of the room.

"Order's done!" Lana yelled, though they were only ten feet away from her. Parker paid for their food and smiled at the woman as she took the bag of goods. Grayson held the door for her and they headed back to her house.

An alley that she hadn't paid attention to before opened up ahead of them and the sound of snide laughter rang out. Grayson's head snapped up and the closer they got, the closer he seemed to get to her. By the time they rounded the giant trash bins and the mouth of the alley appeared next to them, he was practically occupying the same space as her.

"Hey, sexy," a greasy voice said. Parker looked over to see a trio of similarly dressed men in their twenties, white shirts ended just above their sagging jeans. Black tattoos spider webbed up their arms and necks and one of them—no doubt the one who'd spoken—whistled.

"Keep walking," Grayson whispered in her ear.

"You gonna let your man tell you how to be, baby? I'd never do that to such a sweet piece of ass," the man crooned. Parker ignored him. She thought they'd left him and his friends behind until someone came up behind her and grabbed her firmly on the butt.

She reacted on instinct. Anger welled up inside her instantly and she whirled around before Grayson even knew something had happened, dropping their food on the ground. It was the one who'd whistled at her. She met his eyes and he winked. "Wrong move," she snarled. Before he could respond she pulled her foot back and brought it up between his legs with every ounce of power she had. The man's eyes widened comically and he started to fall forward, hands between on his genitals. He hit his knees and Parker brought her elbow down on the top of his head. She wasn't strong but her elbows were exceptionally pointy and a welt was already forming by the time he hit the ground.

The men around her, Grayson included, were stunned. She was too, though not nearly as much as they were. Spinning back around, she grabbed Grayson's arm and the bag of Chinese food, speed walking back to her house. As soon as the door was bolted behind them she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, the adrenaline starting to leave her system. She felt tired.

"Holy shit," Grayson said in a breathy tone. "That was incredible. Stupid, since they probably watched us walk right up to your house, but still . . ." Parker's eyes ripped open.

"I didn't even think of that," she whispered, fear creeping through her. Incredible as Grayson thought it was, that guy she'd dropped probably wouldn't agree. She gulped. "Do you think they'll come here?"

Grayson shrugged, which wasn't the answer she was looking for. He could see her panicking and put his hand on her shoulder. "Probably not, but just in case I can call the cops. Tell them to come check on you later." Parker shook her head.

"Won't I just get arrested for assault?" Oh god, what had she done? Her breath crept toward hyperventilation. Grayson led her over to the couch and sat her down.

"It'll be alright, Parker. You did nothing wrong. He's the one who should be arrested for assault, you were protecting yourself. Pretty well, I might add. Where'd you learn to do that?" Parker's thoughts flashed to her last boyfriend and she shook her head. That definitely wouldn't calm her down.

"Talk about something else please, anything," she begged, trying to get her breathing to return to normal.

"Okay, let's see. My middle name is Ford. I have a tattoo of the Pope on my leg that I got when I was eighteen. So stupid." He chuckled at himself. "I like your house better than mine, I think your nose is fucking adorable, I have a little sister named Peg of all things, I prefer Bush to Nirvana, and I grew up in the house I live in." He paused and studied Parker's face. "How are we doing?"

"Fine, I'm fine. Sorry about that."

"Let me get you some water." Before she could protest he was already back, her glass from earlier in his hand. He watched her sip it, concern apparent on his face. "And don't be sorry."

She set the glass down and grinned. "You think my nose is adorable?" Grayson tightened his lips before he could smile.

"If you don't want the police here," he said, ignoring her question, "what are you going to do? Stay up all night with a baseball bat and wait for them to break in?" It was a good question and she let him distract her. He was right, they'd have to call the police. The thought made her stomach hurt.

"Do I have to call the police?" she asked, her tone pleading for another answer to her problem. Grayson cleared his throat.

"There's always me." Parker stared at him.

"You what? You go out there and beat the crap out of them, and tell them that if you ever see them in this neighborhood again they'll pay?"

"No, not that," he said, laughing. "I mean I could stay and make sure no one breaks in. I'd be down here, of course, so don't worry." Parker mulled over his suggestion. It was either that, stay up herself—which she probably couldn't physically do—or call the police and hope for the best. She sighed.

"Alright, but only if you really want to. And wake me up when you get tired so I can take over guard duty." Grayson shook his head and put the glass of water back in her hand, staring at her until she took another sip.

"You just beat the crap out of a thug, Parker. You should get your sleep." They both smiled and she glanced over at the coffee table. Grayson's ungraded tests were piled up next to her ungraded sketchbooks.

"We really got a lot done tonight," she said sarcastically.

"You did. Now let's eat." Parker had forgotten about the food in all the excitement, but at its mention her stomach roared. He passed her the plain rice and egg rolls and began shoveling into his own food. She watched him with a content feeling for a second before turning the TV on and letting a sitcom fill the silence.

As soon as they were done, Grayson pushed her toward the stairs. She said goodnight and went up to her room, all too aware that all he had to do was stand up and he'd see her. Luckily she'd had the foresight to put a divider in the corner when she'd moved in, and she unfolded it to change into her nightgown.

Crawling into bed was like a religious experience and a soft moan escaped her lips. The adrenaline had left her exhausted and though she wanted nothing else but to sleep, she couldn't. She knew it was because Grayson was so close to her, even though he was in a different room on a different level. It had been so long since a man had been in her house, especially at night. Night made things so much different. Parker tossed and turned on the cotton sheets, groaning.

"You okay up there?" There was concern in his tone that made her want to sing. Grinning up to the ceiling, Parker called back.

"Yes, just can't sleep. I'll shut up now." She heard his soft laugh and pictured him lounging comfortably on her couch, arms behind his head and feet kicked up on the coffee table. Then the image of him in that position but stripped of clothes flashed wickedly through her mind, and her breath caught. A rush of warmth spread through her as she imagined his cock, his nimble fingers running down the expanse of his abs and brushing against his hard length. A moan having nothing to do with being tired escaped her and she squeezed her lips shut.

Unable to stop herself, she let her hand travel under the sheet and over her sheer underwear. Another moan threatened to bubble up as she began to rub herself over the lace, Grayson's dark eyes flashing in her mind. With her free hand she lowered the top of her nightgown and pinched her nipple between her fingers, squirming on the bed. She bit her lip and worked her hand faster against her clit, eagerly pushing aside the fabric and dipping her index finger inside of herself.

Sweat paraded across her skin as she brought herself closer and closer to orgasm, unable to keep small gasps from her lips. She rolled her nipple in her fingers and rubbed the palm of her hand against her clit while her two fingers moved slickly in and out. As soon as she thought back to earlier that day when Grayson had called her a brat her orgasm roared up, threatening to take her under. Right before it could, there was a thump and a soft curse from the living room. Immediately crashing back down to earth, Parker pulled her nightgown back into place and ran down the stairs.

The lights were off and the curtains drawn, but she was adjusted enough to make out Grayson's rough shape. He was kneeling on the ground next to the coffee table. She glanced over at the still-locked door and then back at Grayson. "Are you okay?"

His head came up so fast his neck almost broke. "Parker?" She stifled a laugh.

"Yeah, I heard something and thought those douches were breaking in."

"No, the only douche here is me." He got to his feet, though he was wobbly. "I was trying to get to the bathroom and ran right into that stupid table. I think my leg is broken."

"Don't be such a baby. Come here. Can you walk on it?" She threw one of his arms over her shoulder and helped hold him up as he tested his leg. He flinched and sighed loudly.

"This is ridiculous. What's your coffee table made out of, jagged pieces of glass and barbed wire?"

"Of course it is." Supporting his weight, they hobbled to the bathroom and she waited outside while he did whatever he was doing. The door opened a minute later and she got him back to the couch. He didn't let go of her arm in time and she was pulled down with him, her full weight falling on top of him. "Sorry," she grumbled. "Someone doesn't know when to let go."

"Who says I didn't do it on purpose?" he said gruffly. Before she could respond his arms were snaked around her, locking her to him. She didn't even try to fight it. Her eyes adjusted better to the darkness and she could see his face in the dim moonlight. His jaw was scruffy, his cheekbones exaggerated by shadow, but the glow in his eyes could never be dimmed. The look in them as he stared up at her was exactly what she'd imagined only minutes ago as she'd touched herself. As if reading her mind, Grayson's hand slid up her nightgown, over the exposed skin of her back, and stopped at the nape of her neck. He pushed her head down a fraction of an inch, her lips hovering over his.

"I could hear you," he whispered. Parker gasped when he suddenly raised his head and kissed her throat. His teeth grazed her soft skin. "You were pleasuring yourself up there, weren't you?" His tongue snaked out and just barely brushed against her. She whimpered. "Answer, Parker."

"Yes," she breathed. Grayson growled, his mouth closing on her throat and sucking softly. He kissed and nuzzled his way up her neck to her cheek, drawing little circles with the tip of his tongue as he went. By the time he stopped at the side of her mouth she was panting.

"What were you thinking about while you touched yourself?" he asked. Parker opened her eyes and saw that he was perfectly calm. His expression hadn't changed, nor had his breathing. She couldn't tell if he was erect or not but based on the rest of him, it was unlikely. Feeling promptly exposed, she tried to raise herself up and climb off of him. His arms were still coiled around her torso. She wiggled in his embrace, trying to break his hold, and as soon as he realized what she was doing he let go.

She was at the other side of the room before he'd even sat up. He stared over at her, confusion marring his handsome face. "Did I do something wrong?" Tears stung her eyes but she couldn't make herself turn around and run back up to her bed. For one thing, it seemed childish. This was her house after all, and she could just kick him out if she wanted. Raising her chin, she shrugged as if it didn't matter. Grayson's expression darkened. "Tell me."

Parker wrapped her arms around herself. "It's nothing. I'm going back to bed. Goodnight." She turned and started up the stairs before Grayson shot up and grabbed her wrist. She tugged but he wouldn't loosen his hold.