Addicted to Mr Parks (The Parks Series #2)(112)

“Wade is too independent for his own good. His one goal in life was to make it by himself. Cut away from his father’s strings.”

“He has issues with his dad?” I knew he did, so if Parks wasn’t going to tell me what it was, I was going to snoop. Clearly.

“More than you could bear to think, dear.” She solemnly looked at the ring on her finger. Her eyes were teary, and she didn’t want me to catch that. But I already had.

“Why does he drink watermelon?” It was an odd question to ask, but I was curious, and maybe I wanted to lighten up the conversation. After all, snooping didn’t seem a good idea just then.

She laughed fondly and moved in closer to speak. “Because his father hates it.”

“That’s why?” Was she kidding me?

She nodded and got up to see to the pie she’d placed in the oven.

After breakfast, I made my way up the stairs. Parks wasn’t in the room we’d shared, but our bags were packed and resting on the bed ready to go.

Deciding to wait for him, I rummaged in my bag for my sunglasses and opened up the French doors that led onto a beautiful balcony that had all the sunlight beaming down and comfy chairs to sit on. Pulling out my iPod, I pressed play to Ella Henderson’s “Empire” and closed my eyes.

The first time I’d heard the song, it instantly hit home. It was like the lyrics were written for Parks and me. We had found strength in each other’s arms, building on our love and making it our empire. But Parks still remained strong while I let go. I let him into my life and only him. It hurt that he didn’t want to share his everything with me when I’d shared my everything with him.

Sitting alone, I got to really appreciate the surroundings of what I was basking in. Just across my view was the sea glistening from the reflection of the sunlight. Palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze. Peace. Serenity. Two things I rarely found.

“Hey.” A soft voice I’d started to miss caused a shiver down my spine. Pulling my sunglasses from me, he quickly captured my eyes with those emerald beauties. He had a laid-back white T-shirt on, jeans, and casual Ralph Lauren shoes. I’d only ever witnessed him in suits and ties, so when he dressed casual, it was a hot shock.

“Oh, he speaks.”

He smiled in aid of my humour and pulled up the seat next to me. “What’s this song?”

“Ella Henderson. “Empire.” It reminds me of us.”

“I’ll have to remember this one.”

My smile was clearly from the way he always remembered the songs I listened to because he knew how much words meant to me. Lyrics of a song said how I was feeling better than I could ever try to explain myself.

“Evelyn.” He reached out his hand and clasped his palm over my knuckles. “When I get that like, the best thing to do is to let me be alone. I told you, when I’m angry, I can’t see past it. I really just need to be alone.”

“And it’s better than angry spanking me, correct?”

He squeezed my hand. “Yes.”

I didn’t agree with him. “I say it’s not. Because as you know, I hate it when you leave me in body and mind. I panic when you’re not around. My anxiety builds when you feel so far away that I can’t even touch you.”

“Evelyn.” His bum left the chair, and he knelt beside me. “Trust me, you wouldn’t rather I angry spanked you.” His tone was softer with an edge of exhaustion entwined. He still didn’t seem his full self, and I hated that.


“But you do spank me and I love it.” And I did. I didn’t want that to stop.

His gaze dropped briefly, and he caught the side of his full bottom lip with his teeth. “Spanking out of anger is not the same as spanking a woman because of punishment.”

“But you f*cked me in anger.” My frown was very much apparent, and he winced at my words. I knew he’d been beating himself up over it all night.

“I know. I hate myself for it.”

“Well don’t, because I love you.”

“I don’t deserve you. You’ve changed so much for me, and when you ask me to let you in, I f*ck you so bad you can’t even sit down properly.”

My bum shifted in my seat, being reminded that I was still sore. “Well, that’s the way a WParks f*ck goes.”

Parks laughed solemnly, leaned over, and held my cheeks between his palms, speaking against my lips. “I love you, Princess. So much. I have no idea why you put up with me.”

“And I don’t know why you put up with me.” I kissed him before he took his seat back across from me and shifted it forwards to get closer. “You have always had the patience of a saint with me. From day one. You were like an annoying smell that wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“An annoying smell?” He laughed, doing the action of a film reel. “You just keep those names reeling, baby.”

“But you have the patience of the Hulk with everything else.”

He racked his hands through his dark locks. “I’m a dick. I agree.”

“And I’m a handful,” I admitted.

“Like I said, that’s why I have two hands.” He smiled, rubbing his palms up my bare legs.

“We’re a lost cause.” My sigh was broken.

Parks pulled me off my seat and into his lap. I threw my legs to the side and sat across him, my arm thrown over his shoulder, my head against his chest. We were both glancing to the sea that waved just over the horizon. My senses were all bouncing off one another after getting the hit of all the scents that radiated from his luscious body so close to mine. His watermelon. His freshness. The masculine fragrance he wore that was an instant aphrodisiac for me.