Inside Voice

35. No Thinking.

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Gyorgy's POV

Parker immediately lifted me off the floor and tossed me over his shoulder before rushing into his room and dropping onto his bed. Without even bothering to close the door, he yanked my pants down to my ankles, and slammed his mouth into mine.

I pulled away from his aggressive kiss and whined about how I wasn't ready to go so fast, but Parker merely scoffed and gripped my jaws. "You forced me to wait several years this. I'll be damned if you make me take my time with you," he growled.

"B-but I'm not ready!"

"I'm not either, but I don't care because my lust for you prevails over my anxiety. I want you."

My cheeks burned as the teenager glared into my eyes and my stomach filled with butterflies. "You have anxiety?"

"Of course I have anxiety. I'm a teenager with mafia-like guardians, a bunch of enemies, and a crush eleven years older than me. How could I not have anxiety?"

"B...because you're Parker. You always seem so confident, and strong, a-and...you never seem to be afraid of anything."

"Well, I'm not afraid of anything. I just have anxiety," Parker said simply as he took off his shirt.

"Oh..." I mumbled as I turned my eyes down onto my own body. I haven't worked out in a while... He's a lot more muscular than me...

"Hey, I don't want to take my shirt—mm!"

Just before I could finish my sentence, Parker had ripped my shirt off. Literally.

"PARKER! WHAT THE HELL?! THAT WAS ONE OF MY FAVORITE SHIRTS!"

"Why? I didn't buy it for you. What makes it so special?"

"Wh— Casey bought it for me. It's one of our matching shirts for whenever we go out to really crowded places."

"'One of your matching shirts'? As in you both have multiple matching outfits?"

"Yeah," I whined. "But this was one of our favorites."

Parker narrowed his eyes at me and clenched his jaws. "You and I will match clothes. No more of you and Casey doing that."

"Why?"

"Because that makes it seem like you're his boyfriend. He's shorter than you and smaller. No more matching outfits."

"Quit trying to be controlling. Casey and I always match clothes in crowded spaces so—"

"I'm not being controlling. I'm being jealous. I don't want you guys to match clothes without me."

I rolled my eyes and right as I scoffed, Parker slapped my thigh—which coerced a yelp out of me, and for some scarily odd reason, butterflies filled my stomach.