Addicted to Mr Parks (The Parks Series #2)(93)

Nadia caught me starring and followed my gaze. “Good luck with the sister.” She jerked her thumb. “She’s a bitch.”

She was warning me? “Thanks for the warning, but I can handle bitches. I’m one myself.”

“High five to that.” She laughed, actually slapping my palm with hers.

“Princess, everything all right?” Parks came back into my space, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me in tight.

“Yeah, just chatting.”

Parks spotted Nadia and nodded, stiff and disinterested. “Nadia.”

“Wade.” Her smile seemed to hide a thousand different meanings, and it made me uncomfortable.

“Sasha’s here. Have you seen her yet?” Her tone was definitely hiding a meaning, and it rubbed me up the wrong way. Who the hell was Sasha?


“No,” Parks shut her down. “Neither do I wish to. Good-bye, Nadia.”

“Who’s Sasha?” It came out of my mouth immediately when we walked away from Nadia.

“No one you should be concerned about. And stay away from Nadia,” he warned. “Come on. We need to make our way to the dining area.”

A live orchestra played soft classical music on the stage, and I listened blissfully as Parks pulled out a seat for me, then sat beside me. We were at a table with six strangers. Well, strangers to me. Of course Parks knew them and wasted no time in introducing me. My mind, though, wasn’t on the other guests or listening to what they were talking about. Neither was it on the delicious, out-of-this-world, five-course meal we were shortly served. It was on Sasha. I hated not knowing anything to do with Parks. I couldn’t be kept in the dark, not anymore.

“Mr. Parks, please do introduce me to your lady.”

I turned my head and saw a stunning woman who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere standing just behind Parks. She was a little older than him. Her highlighted hair was styled in a perfect up-do, and her red dress clung to her curves. She was pretty, except for one obvious feature ruining her face. Annoyingly, her hands came down onto his shoulders and remained there even when Parks tried to shrug her off.

“Evelyn. This is Saskia Maloof. A wife of a business partner of mine. Saskia, this is Evelyn Banks, my girlfriend.”

Parks’s introduction was all formal and well-practiced like everything was in his life. Especially at events like this one. But just because my body was draped in luxury items and I was expected to behave a certain way, it didn’t mean I was going to.

“Evelyn, it’s so nice to meet you.” She held out a hand, her long fingers decorated in expensive rings, offering a handshake. My hand was stiff, and I narrowed my eyes at her patronizing attitude. Well, I wasn’t going to let her look down her nose at me.

“You too.” I gaped. “And wow, your lips are huge.”

Parks almost choked on his watermelon, and Saskia’s face dropped in an instant. Her lips had humongous fillers inside them, and it made her look like Donald Duck. I couldn’t help it.

“Oh, um. I had a bit of trouble with my plastic surgeon.” She touched her lips gently with her fingertips. “Nothing more surgery can’t fix.” She tried to shrug it off calmly, but I persisted.

“Why would you want to look like that, though? I don’t under—”

Parks nudged my knee with his as a warning, and Saskia made out that someone had caught her eye from across the room and excused herself.

“Evelyn, you and that mouth of yours.”

My smirk was involuntary. “So you’re telling me they were nice?”

“No, but it’s not polite to point it out.”

Giving a slight, unapologetic shrug, I returned to my glass of water. “She was holding your shoulders quite comfortably.”

Parks narrowed his darkening green eyes my way, warning me not to ask what he damn well knew I was about to say. But I did.

“Have you slept with her?”

Before I’d even finished the question, his jaw clenched because I disregarded his warning.

“She is a married woman, Evelyn. Ruining a family is not my thing.”

Maybe he didn’t sleep with her, but there was something he wasn’t telling me.

“Then has she tried it on with you? Kissed you?”

He knew I would go on until he told me, so he spat it out, his voice low and hissing in my ear. “She sucked my cock. Happy now?”

No. I was not f*cking happy. Swallowing hard on his words, I moved away from him, suddenly feeling sick and despising my inquisitive streak. The thought of any woman’s lips around that part of him, a part that was rightly mine, turned my stomach.

“You just let her suck your cock for fun?” Why on earth was I still lingering on the subject? Talk about being a punishment whore.

“No.” His expression was more than warning me to stop asking, and his eyes were clouding over. If he wasn’t in the presence of others, there was no doubt he would have punished me for going on.

“Then what?” I snapped. “Why don’t you tell me things?”

“You want me to tell you?” he snarled, making me blink at how angry he was becoming.

“Yes,” I hissed. My brain needed to know, but my heart was begging me to stop asking.

“Fine.” Swigging back his watermelon and slamming his glass onto the table, he discreetly pulled on my forearm and leaned into me.