See part 1 ("Another Woman") for disclaimer.
By way of explanation, DuMBo stands for "Down under the Manhattan Bridge overpass." It's a bit much, I know, but I didn't name it. In any case, it's this totally cool post-industrial neighborhood in downtown Brooklyn favored by the beautiful people who have converted old warehouse/factory space into lofts. And since human beings don't get much more beautiful than Jarod and Miss Parker, I thought it a fitting place for them to spend their weekend.
Oh, and for residents of New Jersey, no offense is intended. As a proud resident of the Garden State myself, I have spent many an hour stuck in traffic at one tunnel or another and, in fact, did so this very morning. Parker was just being cranky. If you were running late for this particular rendezvous then you'd be cranky too.
The Friendship Cycle Nine: At This Hour?
By Ginger
"God, I hate New Jersey," Parker groaned as she pressed her forehead to the steering wheel.
She was well and truly stuck in a traffic jam at the entrance to the Holland Tunnel. It would probably take another hour, at least, to traverse the final three miles of her journey to the DuMBo section of Brooklyn.
*Great,* she thought bitterly. *More time to think.*
Thinking was all she had done since leaving Blue Cove and it was safe to say she'd had her fill of it. Besides, her ass was getting numb and she was dying for a drink. There wouldn't be any provisions in the borrowed loft that was to be her abode for the weekend, so she'd have to pick up a few things before settling in for the evening. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, she sighed. It was already after eight. Apparently, this day was destined to go on forever.
The accommodations were compliments of an artist off on an extended stay in South America. She was not personally acquainted with the individual; he was an old school buddy of Fritz's. Her ex-lover had remained loyal and generous even after she'd informed him that they could no longer see each other romantically. He hadn't been terribly surprised by the news and was certainly in a position to be magnanimous; she was hardly the love of his life either. Nevertheless, Fritz was a class act, even going so far as to pretend that nothing had changed between them when he visited Delaware over the winter. He dutifully played his role for the benefit of Mr. Parker at her request and without asking why. When she struggled to explain he would have none of it, insisting he knew her well enough to know that she must have a damned good reason.
It was amazing how much had changed in the last six years, how much *she* had changed. The *old* Parker would never have garnered the loyalty and respect of such a kind and decent soul or, if she had, would have misused and squandered it. She'd certainly been through a lot – there was no denying it – but it was the people in her life who had made the most impact. Sydney… Broots… Debbie… Tommy…
Jarod.
He was the linchpin, the common denominator. Without him everything would have been different. As difficult and painful as life in the hunt had so often been, Parker didn't even want to think about where she'd be or what she'd be doing now if Jarod hadn't made his dramatic reentry into her life six years earlier. No doubt she'd still be towing the corporate line and believing all the lies, including the one about her mother being an unstable, weak-willed woman who'd taken her own life on a public elevator.
Even if the only thing Jarod had ever given her was the knowledge that Catherine had not *chosen* to leave her forever, it would have been the greatest gift she'd ever received. He had, of course, given her much, much more and was still giving. All he seemed to want in return was to be with her, a desire she'd been fulfilling for a year, and would go on fulfilling for as long as she could because it was what she wanted too.
*But for how long?*
Parker frowned as she pressed the accelerator to creep forward. Obviously their chosen course had never been a safe one, but it had become even less so recently. So far, it had not been what one might broadly term an uneventful year.
Raines had reappeared - alive and well - and with that glint in his eye that suggested he was back in the good graces of the whoever the hell was truly in charge. And even though she had witnessed her own father shoot him, his resurrection nearly two years later proved only mildly shocking. It was the people she loved who stayed dead.
Furthermore, her father's reaction, or rather his distinct lack thereof, led her to suspect that he'd known all along that Raines was alive. Perhaps the two of them had cooked up the whole scheme for reasons she couldn't begin to guess, yet another round in that seemingly endless Centre power struggle. Or maybe it had been a simple means of shutting her up about the truth of her mother's death, a possibility she couldn't bring herself to ponder for very long.
Regardless, she did not relish the idea of coming into daily contact with the man who had murdered her mother in cold blood. Besides, Raines's reappearance served as an unsightly and unpleasant reminder of the fact that Parker was no closer to working out the details of her mother's elusive plan than on the day she learned of Ethan's existence.
The fact of the matter was that neither she nor Jarod had made much progress of late in solving the mysteries that still cast a large shadow over their lives. They continued to skillfully play *the game* for the benefit of her employer, all the while carrying on an affair in the off hours and between pretends. They even managed to share some happy moments with the people they had in common. In addition to the wonderful weekend with Sydney back in November, Broots had been rather amusingly, if inadvertantly, brought into the fold on New Year's Eve. And Ethan had materialized a couple times before things started to heat up at the Centre.
But none of this mitigated the fact that Jarod still hadn't a clue where his mother was, and Parker wasn't even close to understanding the full circumstances surrounding her own mother's death. When you tossed in the existence of their loving, but deeply troubled, younger brother, not to mention the constant struggle to stay one step ahead of her sociopathic twin while remaining on her father's good side, it was fair to say that she had plenty to keep her up nights.
"Fuck!" she spat, slapping the steering wheel in frustration when traffic again slowed to a stop.
* * * *
Since it was a pleasant evening, Parker resolved not to spend another second of it in the car, choosing instead to make her small grocery run on foot. Returning with a plastic bag in each hand, she entered the cobblestone alleyway leading to the pedestrian entrance to the loft.
"Pardon me, ma'am," a voice called from behind her. "Would you like fries to go with that *shake?*"
She stifled a wide smile to turn and cast the intruder a withering glare.
"I've been working construction," Jarod explained with a shrug and a cheeky grin. "Besides, it's apropos. Walking behind you *is* a sublime experience, Miss Parker."
"You can lay off the charm, Wonderboy," she stated with a smirk as she foisted the bags into his hands then leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips.
"You already know you're going to get lucky," she tacked on, the sight of those impossible eyes and that preposterous smile having an immediate, positive effect on her.
* * * *
The sound of Delta Blues, of which Jarod had been delighted to find a vast collection, wafted through the spacious loft. Having sat down together on the rug in the main living area, he noticed Parker wince as he drew her attention to one of the paintings on the wall and immediately moved behind her to locate the source of, and alleviate, her discomfort.
"Mmmm... the wine is lovely, by the way," she offered after several minutes of silence. "You're becoming quite the connoiseur."
"A man can learn a lot from you, Miss Parker," he purred into her ear then frowned as he located a rather large knot between her shoulder blades.
"You're so tense," he observed tenderly. "I know it's been a miserable couple of months."
"Mmmm... better now that we're here," she replied softly. "It's only when we're apart that I'm convinced we've lost our freakin' minds."
He smiled wistfully and, moving aside her hair, kissed the back of her neck then instructed, "Take off your shirt and lie down on your stomach."
"What do you have in mind, Monkeyboy?"
"I'm going to work that kink out of your back."
She was happy to comply and Jarod climbed across her to kneel astride her body. He was about to settle into his task when he noticed something and sighed.
"You're wearing one of those front loading models."
Chuckling, Parker inquired, "Is that a problem?"
"Well, I can't very well unhook it from here, can I?"
He climbed off her body so she could remove her bra then retook his position and proceeded to deftly rub the tension out of her tight, aching muscles. Delighting in his task, he smiled whenever she emitted a particularly delicious moan. When he felt the last remnants of the knot disappear, he leaned to forward to ask sweetly,
"Better?"
"You really are a genius," she answered on a sigh then pushed herself up slightly to signal that she wanted to turn around.
Jarod rose fully onto his knees and Parker rolled over to cast him a sleepy, appreciative smile. Returning her smile, he leaned forward to kiss the soft, delectable skin between her breasts. He could feel the vibration as she hummed with pleasure, which instilled in him an intense desire to please her even more.
He lifted his head and with a gleam in his eye stated, "Let's see what else we can do to relieve all that built-up tension," then sat back to pull his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside.
Parker raised her hips to assist as Jarod removed her pants and underwear in one smooth motion. He locked her eyes in a smoldering gaze then moved up her body to place a tender kiss to her lips before working his way down again with kisses, licks and gentle nibbles to her neck, shoulders, breasts, belly and hips. She was reduced to a boneless, quivering mass even before he reached his intended destination, and emitted a soft gasp when his head eventually dipped between her legs. Before long her release was heralded by a violent shudder and an exquisitely drawn out, "Oooooh."
Rising slightly to look up at her from one of his favorite vantage points, Jarod watched as her breathing slowly evened out and waited until her heavy eyelids parted to give him a glimpse into her eyes before repeating his earlier question.
"Better?"
She nodded and chuckled throatily. Grinning, he crawled forward to nuzzle his face in the soft flesh of her belly. As her fingers slid into his hair to caress his scalp, he turned his head to rest contentedly on her navel and closed his eyes.
* * * *
Jarod tossed Parker's clothing onto a chair then shed his jeans before calling into the half-open bathroom door,
"We have to make up the bed. Any idea where they keep the linens around here?"
"Mmrhrph... phlyr."
Quirking an eyebrow, he strolled to the door, pushed it open and leaned against the doorway to watch her. Clad only in his shirt, she was standing at the sink and brushing her teeth. He smiled. It was a well-established routine; she'd wear his shirt all weekend. When she wore anything at all, that is. Meeting his eyes in the mirror, she shot him one of her *So, what are you going to do about it?* looks. The woman was going to be the death of him, one way or another.
When she finished at the sink, she slid past him in the doorway and said, "Bathroom's all yours," then gave his shoulder a playful nip before padding over to the closet in search of bedding. Shaking his head, he strolled into the bathroom to take his turn then returned to find her making the bed. Without a word he assisted her, grabbing the other end of the fitted sheet to stretch it over the mattress.
"You know..." he began tentatively as they lifted and spread the top sheet. "This weekend marks the first..."
"If you say anniversary, Jarod, I'll kill you."
"Well it is, isn't it? If you... count from that night... when you showed up in New York... and I..."
"Can we just drop it for now?" she interjected as she finished tucking in a corner.
"Okay..."
Parker could hear the hurt in his voice and looked up to meet his eyes. As expected, he looked every bit the whipped puppy. Sighing, she offered,
"Listen, it's been a long day and an even longer week and I'd rather not think about yesterday or tomorrow right now. We can talk about it after I've gotten some rest, okay?" He nodded.
"Now lose the boo-boo face and come to bed."
His expression brightened considerably as he watched her pull his shirt over her head and slip between the sheets.
* * * *
Jarod bolted upright, his heart thumping in his chest.
"What is it, baby?" she murmured, reaching for him.
"I heard a noise," he whispered tensely.
Parker sat up and wrapped her arms around him. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she began rubbing slow, calming circles on his back and cooed, "It's okay. It's just the coffee maker, the kind with the built-in grinder. Makes great coffee but also makes a racket."
"Oh... I'm sorry I overreacted. But why did you program it to come on so early?"
"Because we're going out," she replied softly then pressed a tender kiss to his jaw and continued, "And *I'm* sorry, I should have warned you."
"Out? At this hour? Where to?"
"I passed a bakery on my way to the market last night, one of those great old fashioned, family run joints."
"Maybe I'm still recovering from my rude awakening but I don't follow."
"The best time to go to a bakery is when the first batch of everything comes out of the oven."
"If you say so."
Jarod sounded somewhat less than enthusiastic because he was. While certainly a fan of baked goods, he liked being curled up in bed with Parker even more. The idea of leaving her warm embrace and, worse yet, having to put on clothing held little appeal.
"C'mon, Jar, we can't stay naked all weekend," she stated, tousling his hair before climbing out of bed.
"Says who?" he grumbled before throwing off the sheet and getting up.
* * * *
"Mmmm... very good!" Jarod announced through a mouthful of brioche.
Sitting opposite him on the window seat, Parker rolled her eyes then glanced out the large window affording a panoramic view of the Manhattan Bridge, East River, and Island of Manhattan that was simply splendid in first light. Turns out he had indeed enjoyed their trip to the bakery, having charmed the hell out of the grandmotherly type who waited on them by behaving like the proverbial kid in a candy store.
"Baby," he chirped.
"Excuse me?" she asked, directing her attention from the view to him.
"You called me 'baby,'" he repeated, positively beaming.
"What?" She shook her head in bewilderment.
"This morning, when the coffee maker startled me, you called me 'baby.' You've never called me that before."
He emitted a gleeful chuckle then took another bite of warm, buttered bread. Parker sighed then slid off the window seat and disappeared for a moment, returning with one hand behind her back.
"What have you got there?" he inquired as he continued to chew, craning his neck in attempt to see behind her.
"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased then presented the small, elegantly wrapped box.
Grinning, he finally put down his breakfast and inquired, "That wouldn't be an *anniversary* gift, would it?"
Parker shrugged and glanced at the floor, her cheeks coloring slightly. Shoving aside their makeshift picnic, Jarod hopped up, gave her a quick kiss with his sweet, greasy lips and announced, "Be right back!"
She shifted restlessly on her feet and bit her lip in anticipation then muttered to herself, "Oh, get a grip... You're not sixteen anymore."
In a flash he was back, standing behind her, and winding his arm around her body to present a box of his own then pressed his lips to her ear and offered,
"Trade?"
She nodded. They exchanged packages then sat side by side to open them.
"You first," he said, gesturing at the box in her lap.
"Okay," she responded amiably then proceeded to carefully peel away the paper.
"It's a bunny!" she exclaimed with a wide smile as she ran her finger along the flexible platinum wire, off which dangled a sleek, contemporary rendering of a rabbit, also in platinum.
"Do you like it?" he asked hopefully.
"It's perfect."
"Here, let me..."
He gently lifted the necklace out of the box, smiling as Parker quickly turned and moved her hair out of the way so he could slide it around her neck and close the clasp. She really seemed to like it, a fact which delighted him to no end. He had been a nervous wreck while shopping; he'd never attempted to buy jewelry for a woman before. But then he'd spotted the rabbit and the choice was clear.
"Your turn," she advised, turning back to face him.
He opened his package to find a shiny white gold chain of sturdy loops connected to a thick bar inscribed with his name.
"Jarod," he whispered.
"It's an identity bracelet, so you'll never forget who you are. Flip it over and read the back."
"Son, Brother, Friend, Hero, Lover." He looked up at her with tears in his eyes.
"And not necessarily in that order," she remarked with an affectionate smile, stroking his cheek.
"Shall I?" she asked gently.
All he could manage was a slow nod. She placed the bracelet around his wrist and smiled. It looked as beautiful against the warm tone of his skin as she imagined it would.
"I... I don't know what to say," he muttered, obviously struggling with an overwhelming array of emotions. "It... it must have been very difficult to acquire this."
Shrugging, she replied, "I had to be careful, that's all. You should have seen the jeweler's face when I paid cash." She chuckled, adding, "He probably thought I was either a drug dealer or some gangster's moll."
Pressing his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes and whispered, "It is the most beautiful thing I own. Thank you, Parker."
"Thank you, Jarod."
He kissed her then slipped his hand into hers, stood, and pulled her up. Narrowing his eyes, he remarked,
"I'll bet that bunny will look even better when it's the *only* thing you're wearing."
As he tugged her toward the spiral staircase leading up to the bedroom, she observed in an amused tone,
"I guess this means breakfast is over."
* * * *
Running her hand along the smooth curves of the bunny and swinging back and forth in her desk chair, Parker sighed as she relived their weekend in New York. After exchanging gifts, she and Jarod had spent most of the day in bed: making love, napping, listening to Blues and sharing the newspaper she'd picked up on their way home from the bakery.
Despite some serious reservations on her part, he succeeded in convincing her to go dancing the following evening by pointing out that they had danced together in public before and no one had been the wiser. They spent a long night floating in a sea of undulating young bodies, rubbing up against and perspiring all over each other, consuming overpriced drinks and having a generally marvelous time. Jarod took particular pleasure in Parker's black thong, clearly visible thanks to the snug, hip-hugging pants she'd had the forethought to bring along. He kept at least two fingers tucked beneath elastic waistband virtually all evening and appeared to revel in the looks of envy cast by the twentysomething men around him.
They returned to Brooklyn just in time to pass by the bakery as it opened, but were so horny when they got to the loft that the bread went cold, forgotten outside in the hallway as Jarod dragged Parker inside then pinned her against the wall, pratically tore off her pants and ravished her. Eventually their knees collectively gave way and they slid down the wall into a breathless, giggling pile of tangled limbs. When the capacity for movement and speech returned, Jarod lifted his head to glance around them then, furrowing his brow, inquired,
"Uh, have you seen the bag from the bakery?"
Parker was mid-snicker when she was interrupted by a hissing sound.
"Pssst!"
She opened her eyes to find Broots standing in front of her desk, anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot, and wearing an expression of profound anxiety.
"Yes?" she offered, straightening in her chair.
"I... um... God, it's so hard to believe I can hardly... I mean... you... you... come to work day after day, year after year, and do the same thing over and over again... and, after a while you start to think that you'll never... that nothing will ever..."
"For crying out loud, Broots, spit it out already!"
Leaning forward to place his palms flat on her desk, he motioned for her to move closer. She raised her eyebrows then inched forward until their heads were nearly touching. Bringing his lips to her ear, he whispered,
"I think I've found Jarod's mother."
# # # #
Tbc... Uh-oh.
By way of explanation, DuMBo stands for "Down under the Manhattan Bridge overpass." It's a bit much, I know, but I didn't name it. In any case, it's this totally cool post-industrial neighborhood in downtown Brooklyn favored by the beautiful people who have converted old warehouse/factory space into lofts. And since human beings don't get much more beautiful than Jarod and Miss Parker, I thought it a fitting place for them to spend their weekend.
Oh, and for residents of New Jersey, no offense is intended. As a proud resident of the Garden State myself, I have spent many an hour stuck in traffic at one tunnel or another and, in fact, did so this very morning. Parker was just being cranky. If you were running late for this particular rendezvous then you'd be cranky too.
The Friendship Cycle Nine: At This Hour?
By Ginger
"God, I hate New Jersey," Parker groaned as she pressed her forehead to the steering wheel.
She was well and truly stuck in a traffic jam at the entrance to the Holland Tunnel. It would probably take another hour, at least, to traverse the final three miles of her journey to the DuMBo section of Brooklyn.
*Great,* she thought bitterly. *More time to think.*
Thinking was all she had done since leaving Blue Cove and it was safe to say she'd had her fill of it. Besides, her ass was getting numb and she was dying for a drink. There wouldn't be any provisions in the borrowed loft that was to be her abode for the weekend, so she'd have to pick up a few things before settling in for the evening. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, she sighed. It was already after eight. Apparently, this day was destined to go on forever.
The accommodations were compliments of an artist off on an extended stay in South America. She was not personally acquainted with the individual; he was an old school buddy of Fritz's. Her ex-lover had remained loyal and generous even after she'd informed him that they could no longer see each other romantically. He hadn't been terribly surprised by the news and was certainly in a position to be magnanimous; she was hardly the love of his life either. Nevertheless, Fritz was a class act, even going so far as to pretend that nothing had changed between them when he visited Delaware over the winter. He dutifully played his role for the benefit of Mr. Parker at her request and without asking why. When she struggled to explain he would have none of it, insisting he knew her well enough to know that she must have a damned good reason.
It was amazing how much had changed in the last six years, how much *she* had changed. The *old* Parker would never have garnered the loyalty and respect of such a kind and decent soul or, if she had, would have misused and squandered it. She'd certainly been through a lot – there was no denying it – but it was the people in her life who had made the most impact. Sydney… Broots… Debbie… Tommy…
Jarod.
He was the linchpin, the common denominator. Without him everything would have been different. As difficult and painful as life in the hunt had so often been, Parker didn't even want to think about where she'd be or what she'd be doing now if Jarod hadn't made his dramatic reentry into her life six years earlier. No doubt she'd still be towing the corporate line and believing all the lies, including the one about her mother being an unstable, weak-willed woman who'd taken her own life on a public elevator.
Even if the only thing Jarod had ever given her was the knowledge that Catherine had not *chosen* to leave her forever, it would have been the greatest gift she'd ever received. He had, of course, given her much, much more and was still giving. All he seemed to want in return was to be with her, a desire she'd been fulfilling for a year, and would go on fulfilling for as long as she could because it was what she wanted too.
*But for how long?*
Parker frowned as she pressed the accelerator to creep forward. Obviously their chosen course had never been a safe one, but it had become even less so recently. So far, it had not been what one might broadly term an uneventful year.
Raines had reappeared - alive and well - and with that glint in his eye that suggested he was back in the good graces of the whoever the hell was truly in charge. And even though she had witnessed her own father shoot him, his resurrection nearly two years later proved only mildly shocking. It was the people she loved who stayed dead.
Furthermore, her father's reaction, or rather his distinct lack thereof, led her to suspect that he'd known all along that Raines was alive. Perhaps the two of them had cooked up the whole scheme for reasons she couldn't begin to guess, yet another round in that seemingly endless Centre power struggle. Or maybe it had been a simple means of shutting her up about the truth of her mother's death, a possibility she couldn't bring herself to ponder for very long.
Regardless, she did not relish the idea of coming into daily contact with the man who had murdered her mother in cold blood. Besides, Raines's reappearance served as an unsightly and unpleasant reminder of the fact that Parker was no closer to working out the details of her mother's elusive plan than on the day she learned of Ethan's existence.
The fact of the matter was that neither she nor Jarod had made much progress of late in solving the mysteries that still cast a large shadow over their lives. They continued to skillfully play *the game* for the benefit of her employer, all the while carrying on an affair in the off hours and between pretends. They even managed to share some happy moments with the people they had in common. In addition to the wonderful weekend with Sydney back in November, Broots had been rather amusingly, if inadvertantly, brought into the fold on New Year's Eve. And Ethan had materialized a couple times before things started to heat up at the Centre.
But none of this mitigated the fact that Jarod still hadn't a clue where his mother was, and Parker wasn't even close to understanding the full circumstances surrounding her own mother's death. When you tossed in the existence of their loving, but deeply troubled, younger brother, not to mention the constant struggle to stay one step ahead of her sociopathic twin while remaining on her father's good side, it was fair to say that she had plenty to keep her up nights.
"Fuck!" she spat, slapping the steering wheel in frustration when traffic again slowed to a stop.
* * * *
Since it was a pleasant evening, Parker resolved not to spend another second of it in the car, choosing instead to make her small grocery run on foot. Returning with a plastic bag in each hand, she entered the cobblestone alleyway leading to the pedestrian entrance to the loft.
"Pardon me, ma'am," a voice called from behind her. "Would you like fries to go with that *shake?*"
She stifled a wide smile to turn and cast the intruder a withering glare.
"I've been working construction," Jarod explained with a shrug and a cheeky grin. "Besides, it's apropos. Walking behind you *is* a sublime experience, Miss Parker."
"You can lay off the charm, Wonderboy," she stated with a smirk as she foisted the bags into his hands then leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips.
"You already know you're going to get lucky," she tacked on, the sight of those impossible eyes and that preposterous smile having an immediate, positive effect on her.
* * * *
The sound of Delta Blues, of which Jarod had been delighted to find a vast collection, wafted through the spacious loft. Having sat down together on the rug in the main living area, he noticed Parker wince as he drew her attention to one of the paintings on the wall and immediately moved behind her to locate the source of, and alleviate, her discomfort.
"Mmmm... the wine is lovely, by the way," she offered after several minutes of silence. "You're becoming quite the connoiseur."
"A man can learn a lot from you, Miss Parker," he purred into her ear then frowned as he located a rather large knot between her shoulder blades.
"You're so tense," he observed tenderly. "I know it's been a miserable couple of months."
"Mmmm... better now that we're here," she replied softly. "It's only when we're apart that I'm convinced we've lost our freakin' minds."
He smiled wistfully and, moving aside her hair, kissed the back of her neck then instructed, "Take off your shirt and lie down on your stomach."
"What do you have in mind, Monkeyboy?"
"I'm going to work that kink out of your back."
She was happy to comply and Jarod climbed across her to kneel astride her body. He was about to settle into his task when he noticed something and sighed.
"You're wearing one of those front loading models."
Chuckling, Parker inquired, "Is that a problem?"
"Well, I can't very well unhook it from here, can I?"
He climbed off her body so she could remove her bra then retook his position and proceeded to deftly rub the tension out of her tight, aching muscles. Delighting in his task, he smiled whenever she emitted a particularly delicious moan. When he felt the last remnants of the knot disappear, he leaned to forward to ask sweetly,
"Better?"
"You really are a genius," she answered on a sigh then pushed herself up slightly to signal that she wanted to turn around.
Jarod rose fully onto his knees and Parker rolled over to cast him a sleepy, appreciative smile. Returning her smile, he leaned forward to kiss the soft, delectable skin between her breasts. He could feel the vibration as she hummed with pleasure, which instilled in him an intense desire to please her even more.
He lifted his head and with a gleam in his eye stated, "Let's see what else we can do to relieve all that built-up tension," then sat back to pull his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside.
Parker raised her hips to assist as Jarod removed her pants and underwear in one smooth motion. He locked her eyes in a smoldering gaze then moved up her body to place a tender kiss to her lips before working his way down again with kisses, licks and gentle nibbles to her neck, shoulders, breasts, belly and hips. She was reduced to a boneless, quivering mass even before he reached his intended destination, and emitted a soft gasp when his head eventually dipped between her legs. Before long her release was heralded by a violent shudder and an exquisitely drawn out, "Oooooh."
Rising slightly to look up at her from one of his favorite vantage points, Jarod watched as her breathing slowly evened out and waited until her heavy eyelids parted to give him a glimpse into her eyes before repeating his earlier question.
"Better?"
She nodded and chuckled throatily. Grinning, he crawled forward to nuzzle his face in the soft flesh of her belly. As her fingers slid into his hair to caress his scalp, he turned his head to rest contentedly on her navel and closed his eyes.
* * * *
Jarod tossed Parker's clothing onto a chair then shed his jeans before calling into the half-open bathroom door,
"We have to make up the bed. Any idea where they keep the linens around here?"
"Mmrhrph... phlyr."
Quirking an eyebrow, he strolled to the door, pushed it open and leaned against the doorway to watch her. Clad only in his shirt, she was standing at the sink and brushing her teeth. He smiled. It was a well-established routine; she'd wear his shirt all weekend. When she wore anything at all, that is. Meeting his eyes in the mirror, she shot him one of her *So, what are you going to do about it?* looks. The woman was going to be the death of him, one way or another.
When she finished at the sink, she slid past him in the doorway and said, "Bathroom's all yours," then gave his shoulder a playful nip before padding over to the closet in search of bedding. Shaking his head, he strolled into the bathroom to take his turn then returned to find her making the bed. Without a word he assisted her, grabbing the other end of the fitted sheet to stretch it over the mattress.
"You know..." he began tentatively as they lifted and spread the top sheet. "This weekend marks the first..."
"If you say anniversary, Jarod, I'll kill you."
"Well it is, isn't it? If you... count from that night... when you showed up in New York... and I..."
"Can we just drop it for now?" she interjected as she finished tucking in a corner.
"Okay..."
Parker could hear the hurt in his voice and looked up to meet his eyes. As expected, he looked every bit the whipped puppy. Sighing, she offered,
"Listen, it's been a long day and an even longer week and I'd rather not think about yesterday or tomorrow right now. We can talk about it after I've gotten some rest, okay?" He nodded.
"Now lose the boo-boo face and come to bed."
His expression brightened considerably as he watched her pull his shirt over her head and slip between the sheets.
* * * *
Jarod bolted upright, his heart thumping in his chest.
"What is it, baby?" she murmured, reaching for him.
"I heard a noise," he whispered tensely.
Parker sat up and wrapped her arms around him. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she began rubbing slow, calming circles on his back and cooed, "It's okay. It's just the coffee maker, the kind with the built-in grinder. Makes great coffee but also makes a racket."
"Oh... I'm sorry I overreacted. But why did you program it to come on so early?"
"Because we're going out," she replied softly then pressed a tender kiss to his jaw and continued, "And *I'm* sorry, I should have warned you."
"Out? At this hour? Where to?"
"I passed a bakery on my way to the market last night, one of those great old fashioned, family run joints."
"Maybe I'm still recovering from my rude awakening but I don't follow."
"The best time to go to a bakery is when the first batch of everything comes out of the oven."
"If you say so."
Jarod sounded somewhat less than enthusiastic because he was. While certainly a fan of baked goods, he liked being curled up in bed with Parker even more. The idea of leaving her warm embrace and, worse yet, having to put on clothing held little appeal.
"C'mon, Jar, we can't stay naked all weekend," she stated, tousling his hair before climbing out of bed.
"Says who?" he grumbled before throwing off the sheet and getting up.
* * * *
"Mmmm... very good!" Jarod announced through a mouthful of brioche.
Sitting opposite him on the window seat, Parker rolled her eyes then glanced out the large window affording a panoramic view of the Manhattan Bridge, East River, and Island of Manhattan that was simply splendid in first light. Turns out he had indeed enjoyed their trip to the bakery, having charmed the hell out of the grandmotherly type who waited on them by behaving like the proverbial kid in a candy store.
"Baby," he chirped.
"Excuse me?" she asked, directing her attention from the view to him.
"You called me 'baby,'" he repeated, positively beaming.
"What?" She shook her head in bewilderment.
"This morning, when the coffee maker startled me, you called me 'baby.' You've never called me that before."
He emitted a gleeful chuckle then took another bite of warm, buttered bread. Parker sighed then slid off the window seat and disappeared for a moment, returning with one hand behind her back.
"What have you got there?" he inquired as he continued to chew, craning his neck in attempt to see behind her.
"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased then presented the small, elegantly wrapped box.
Grinning, he finally put down his breakfast and inquired, "That wouldn't be an *anniversary* gift, would it?"
Parker shrugged and glanced at the floor, her cheeks coloring slightly. Shoving aside their makeshift picnic, Jarod hopped up, gave her a quick kiss with his sweet, greasy lips and announced, "Be right back!"
She shifted restlessly on her feet and bit her lip in anticipation then muttered to herself, "Oh, get a grip... You're not sixteen anymore."
In a flash he was back, standing behind her, and winding his arm around her body to present a box of his own then pressed his lips to her ear and offered,
"Trade?"
She nodded. They exchanged packages then sat side by side to open them.
"You first," he said, gesturing at the box in her lap.
"Okay," she responded amiably then proceeded to carefully peel away the paper.
"It's a bunny!" she exclaimed with a wide smile as she ran her finger along the flexible platinum wire, off which dangled a sleek, contemporary rendering of a rabbit, also in platinum.
"Do you like it?" he asked hopefully.
"It's perfect."
"Here, let me..."
He gently lifted the necklace out of the box, smiling as Parker quickly turned and moved her hair out of the way so he could slide it around her neck and close the clasp. She really seemed to like it, a fact which delighted him to no end. He had been a nervous wreck while shopping; he'd never attempted to buy jewelry for a woman before. But then he'd spotted the rabbit and the choice was clear.
"Your turn," she advised, turning back to face him.
He opened his package to find a shiny white gold chain of sturdy loops connected to a thick bar inscribed with his name.
"Jarod," he whispered.
"It's an identity bracelet, so you'll never forget who you are. Flip it over and read the back."
"Son, Brother, Friend, Hero, Lover." He looked up at her with tears in his eyes.
"And not necessarily in that order," she remarked with an affectionate smile, stroking his cheek.
"Shall I?" she asked gently.
All he could manage was a slow nod. She placed the bracelet around his wrist and smiled. It looked as beautiful against the warm tone of his skin as she imagined it would.
"I... I don't know what to say," he muttered, obviously struggling with an overwhelming array of emotions. "It... it must have been very difficult to acquire this."
Shrugging, she replied, "I had to be careful, that's all. You should have seen the jeweler's face when I paid cash." She chuckled, adding, "He probably thought I was either a drug dealer or some gangster's moll."
Pressing his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes and whispered, "It is the most beautiful thing I own. Thank you, Parker."
"Thank you, Jarod."
He kissed her then slipped his hand into hers, stood, and pulled her up. Narrowing his eyes, he remarked,
"I'll bet that bunny will look even better when it's the *only* thing you're wearing."
As he tugged her toward the spiral staircase leading up to the bedroom, she observed in an amused tone,
"I guess this means breakfast is over."
* * * *
Running her hand along the smooth curves of the bunny and swinging back and forth in her desk chair, Parker sighed as she relived their weekend in New York. After exchanging gifts, she and Jarod had spent most of the day in bed: making love, napping, listening to Blues and sharing the newspaper she'd picked up on their way home from the bakery.
Despite some serious reservations on her part, he succeeded in convincing her to go dancing the following evening by pointing out that they had danced together in public before and no one had been the wiser. They spent a long night floating in a sea of undulating young bodies, rubbing up against and perspiring all over each other, consuming overpriced drinks and having a generally marvelous time. Jarod took particular pleasure in Parker's black thong, clearly visible thanks to the snug, hip-hugging pants she'd had the forethought to bring along. He kept at least two fingers tucked beneath elastic waistband virtually all evening and appeared to revel in the looks of envy cast by the twentysomething men around him.
They returned to Brooklyn just in time to pass by the bakery as it opened, but were so horny when they got to the loft that the bread went cold, forgotten outside in the hallway as Jarod dragged Parker inside then pinned her against the wall, pratically tore off her pants and ravished her. Eventually their knees collectively gave way and they slid down the wall into a breathless, giggling pile of tangled limbs. When the capacity for movement and speech returned, Jarod lifted his head to glance around them then, furrowing his brow, inquired,
"Uh, have you seen the bag from the bakery?"
Parker was mid-snicker when she was interrupted by a hissing sound.
"Pssst!"
She opened her eyes to find Broots standing in front of her desk, anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot, and wearing an expression of profound anxiety.
"Yes?" she offered, straightening in her chair.
"I... um... God, it's so hard to believe I can hardly... I mean... you... you... come to work day after day, year after year, and do the same thing over and over again... and, after a while you start to think that you'll never... that nothing will ever..."
"For crying out loud, Broots, spit it out already!"
Leaning forward to place his palms flat on her desk, he motioned for her to move closer. She raised her eyebrows then inched forward until their heads were nearly touching. Bringing his lips to her ear, he whispered,
"I think I've found Jarod's mother."
# # # #
Tbc... Uh-oh.