The Risks

September: Chapter 35

A/N: Yeeeek. NSFW ahead.

An hour later, Parker and I were on the couch. He was sitting up with me resting my head in his lap while he absently ran his fingers through my hair. We each had a book in our hands. And while he seemed engrossed in his novel, not much reading was being done on my end.

My eyes scanned over the same paragraph endlessly, too distracted to focus. Earlier, I'd taken one of the condoms from my jacket and slipped it into my back pocket and the knowledge of it there seemed to be burning a hole in the back of my mind as if it were hot acid. That and his fingers- carding through my hair, massaging my scalp. It was honestly too much at the moment.

I slowly lowered my book enough so that I could peek up at him. He didn't seem to notice my inner turmoil in the slightest and I didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. I needed to figure out how to make a move- god knows he wasn't going to- but my nerves were getting the better of me. I had no liquid courage this time, no love confession to distract my over-thinker's mind from doing just that.

His eyes drifted down to meet mine then, noticing me staring.

"Hi," I breathed.

He smiled, his hand drifting down to cup my face and I leaned into it, pressing my lips against the edge of his palm.

I got an idea then. It was bold and a little wild, but I had to make some sort of move. I'd die if I didn't. So, keeping my eyes on his, I set my book on the coffee table and placed a hand over his, pulling it down just enough so that I could trail open mouthed kisses along his thumb. And then, slowly and oh so timidly, my heart hammering away inside my chest and my stomach in nervous knots, I took his thumb into my mouth.

He tensed up immediately, his breath catching and his eyes darkening. Was he even breathing? Was I? At this point, I couldn't be sure and it didn't really seem very important.

Part of his reaction seemed promising, the other not so much, but I decided I've done this much already, I might as well roll with it. So very slowly, I pulled his hand back, dragging my tongue along the way, until it was free. For a moment, he kept his thumb there, lightly pressing against my bottom lip, his heated gaze warming every part of me, then he broke the contact and gently moved away from me to walk across the room.

"Where are you going?" I asked, watching as he bent to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge.

He took a swig, eyeing me carefully. "Oh, just trying to keep myself out of trouble."

"Trouble?" I echoed innocently.

"Yes, trouble. You're not making it very easy for me to maintain my self-control, you know."

Uhg. Him and his stupid self-control.

"I think you've practiced your self-control long enough," I told him as I stood and walked halfway to him.

"Claire..." His voice was a warning and what little confidence I had was starting to slip away.

"Do you not want me?"

"Of course I do. I've wanted you for what... what feels like ages." I could tell by the almost desperate look in his eyes that he was being honest and my heart seemed to skip a full two beats. "But we've talked about this..."

"You've barely touched me since that day in the abandoned house."

He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes a little wild. "Yeah, because if I start, I don't think I'll be able to stop. Back in that house? I almost didn't. I wouldn't have if you hadn't accidentally bumped my stitches."