Confessions of a Heartbreaker (15 page)

And lastly, my third clue was when she reached over and snatched the phone right out of my hand before tossing it just out of reach. Seriously, who does that? Unfortunately there's still no message from Jordan. That girl is going to drive me bat shit crazy- I'll tell you that much. When Natalie finally has my undivided attention (or so she thinks), she takes both my hands before bringing them up to cup her incredibly generous breasts. Holy softness, Batman...

But still... there's no
schwinging
action going on down there.

Absolutely freaking none.

I'm almost embarrassed by my total lack of response.

Maybe I need to give my johnson a little pep talk. Because in the past- a nice, soft-yet-firm pair of tits would've had me saluting like a five star general. After all, Parker Jr. (yeah, sometimes I call him that- don't judge me) is normally good to go- up for anything. Yes, that pun was totally intended. Apparently my nether regions have drawn a nonnegotiable line in the sand. And there won't be any crossing of that line tonight.

Which has me realizing that this situation is pretty much a lost cause. I can't even stiffen up enough to raise a white flag in surrender. And so I slowly let my hands fall away from Natalie's incredibly hot body. I'll be honest- I don't even know what to say in a situation like this because it's never happened to me before.

Like ever.

And I certainly wouldn't want something like this getting around school. I almost cringe just thinking about it because I'd never be able to live it down. I'd probably have to transfer schools... Maybe even out of state.

"Parker?"

I sigh before scrubbing one hand tiredly over my face because now that I know this isn't going to happen, I just want to bolt. "Yeah, look, Natalie- I'm sorry for wasting your time. I guess I'm just a little tired. It's been a long week."

Jeez.
Did that seriously just come out of my mouth? Man, that sounds like something lame my dad would say to my mom.
Awww, that's so nasty.
I think I just threw up in my mouth. I can't think about that anymore or I'll start spewing chunks everywhere.

And I doubt that would go over well...

"I don't understand," her soft full lips slant down at the corners and under normal circumstances (non-Jordan ones, that is), I’d have flipped her over and done my best to turn that frown upside down and trust me- and I would have achieved that goal with flying colors. But unfortunately, as kissable as that luscious mouth looks, it's nothing compared to a certain someone else who shall remain nameless but who we're all thinking about right now.

Just wanting her off me at this point, I grab hold of her waist before gently setting her down beside me. Now I just need to figure out how to extricate myself from this rather sticky situation as carefully as possible. And FYI- it won't be the truth that sets me free, that's for damn certain. I don't always get how chicks think but somehow I know that the truth will only make matters worse.

For me.

"Look, Natalie-"

"Is it me? Did I do something wrong?" Her bottom lip starts to quiver. "I thought you liked-"

I cut her off quickly because the last thing I need is some bawling girl on my hands. I don't deal well with those.

"I do. You know just how much I do."  And in the past I have. 
Boy, have I...

Plowing my hands through my hair, I force myself to continue. "I've just got a lot on my mind right now." And then I'm struck by inspiration. "Applying to college, getting all my stuff turned in- my parents are really riding me," okay, I'm going to add this and hope it sounds believable, "and, you know, my grades. I've tanked a few tests (this is actually a lie, I haven't tanked anything lately- thanks to Jordan)." I watch her cautiously out of the corner of my eye. "Guess I'm just a little preoccupied." And then I give her the- "Trust me, babe, it's not you, it's me," line.

Unfortunately it really is me though. It's all because I'm infatuated with a certain blond haired pixie-like creature whose mission in life is to drive me bat shit crazy.

But Natalie doesn't need to know that.

She leans into me and since she's still not wearing a shirt, her barely covered breasts press up against my t-shirt covered chest before she trails one hand slowly through my hair. "Awww, poor Parker. I didn't realize you were so stressed out. You should have told me." She wiggles around so that her tits rub back and forth against me. Under normal circumstance, something like that would have my eyes crossing. Her lips hover inches above mine. Her warm, minty fresh breath feathers across my lips. "I could help you, if you want, relieve some of that stress." She lays her lips on mine as she continues to run her fingers through my hair.

I probably haven't mentioned just how much I love when a girl does that, but I do.
A lot.
It always gets me going. Especially when the girl in question is scalding hot and practically naked all the while squirming around against me. In that moment, I decide to go for it. Yep, I'm going balls to the wall because I need this to work.  This is my very own personal Hail Mary. A last ditch effort on my part to forget about Jordan.

And Natalie Cosgrove certainly knows how to kiss. Well, she knows how to do lots of other things too but she's especially good at kissing. She nibbles at my lips, sucking gently on my tongue. And I want so very badly to forget.

I just want to enjoy this moment.

But I'm not.

Even more surprising is that there's absolutely nothing stirring to life in my jeans. Not even a little twinge. I'm going to be honest here, I'm feeling totally betrayed by my own body. Natalie is rubbing her gorgeous tits across my chest, kissing me, not to mention stroking her fingers through my hair and there's absolutely nothing going on.

Nothing. Nada.  Zip.  Zilch...

I'd actually be worried that something was horribly wrong with my junk if the mere thought of Jordan didn't have me pitching a major tent. Which is exactly why I'm not going to think about her right now because the last thing Natalie needs is encouragement. And trust me- if my boner rears its massive head, that'll be all the encouragement Natalie needs.

Doing the only thing I can, I break off the kiss before gently pushing her away. "Maybe some other night, okay?"

She leans back and I subtly, or maybe not so subtly, help her into her shirt.

That's just another little bit of irony. It's kind of been my mission in life to help girls
out
of their clothes, not assist them back
into
their clothing. I love naked girls. The naked-er, the better, I always say. And yet, I can't seem to get this one dressed fast enough.

Do you see what I'm talking about?

Do you see just how much Jordan has messed with my head?

I think Max is right- maybe I have entered some bizarre parallel universe. Because this just isn't right. And it's certainly not normal.

Once she has all her clothing neatly in place, I'm ready to get the hell out of here. And I can't do it fast enough. "Want to get something to drink?"

Even though it's dark, I see her searching my eyes for answers that I'm not about to reveal. Apparently Natalie isn't buying my load-of-crap excuse any more than I thought she would.

"Umm, sure."

As we leave Will's bedroom in the basement and head out to the family room where there about a dozen people milling around, I hear Adam Birkmen shout from the bar in the corner, "What was that, Montgomery, about fifteen whole minutes? Dude, maybe you should have jacked off
first
. You probably could have lasted a little longer." Then he adds, "
Or not
."

I grind my teeth together because I'm already aggravated with Birkmen from earlier. And this could totally send me over the edge. But before I can fire something back, Max hollers from the couch where he's in the middle of a rather intense game of GTA, "Not everyone likes stroking off as much as you do, Birkmen. You order that replacement blowup doll yet? Hope they reinforce her this time with that heavy grade stuff.  I would seriously hate to see you lose another girlfriend through hard use."

Shutting his pie hole, Birkmen gives Max the finger. You know, I may give Max a lot of crap, but he always has my back when I need him. Maybe I really should try cutting Emily some slack... you know, for Max's sake.  I'll have to seriously think about that.

Okay, thought about it. Can't do it. Crazy Pants will always be Crazy Pants to me. That's the beauty of our friendship.

"I'm going to take off."

Max doesn't look away from the game as he says, "Yeah, I figured you were pretty much blowing smoke up my ass before. You gonna go find her?"

"Not sure if it'll do any good at this point. She's probably pissed."

"Yeah, pissed chicks are usually my specialty. Not yours."

I have to agree with this statement. Max does tend to rile up the females.

Then he snorts. "I just wish I could be there when you do find her. I think I'd enjoy watching you grovel."

Now it's my turn to snort. "Have you lost your mind?"

"No, but apparently you have."

Hmmm. I think he might be right. And if, by chance, groveling will help fix the fine mess I've made of things, then I might just have to do it.

Chapter Thirteen

Me-
Need to talk. Meet me outside

Her-
Can't

Me-
Please?

Her-
No

Me-
OK...
ringing doorbell now

Her-
Liar

Me-
Pressing bell as I txt

Her-
U R very irritating!

Me-
;)

Her-
Meet in back

Smiling, I read the last text before pocketing my phone. Not only am I irritating but I'm ridiculously persistent as well. And that just so happens to be one super lethal combination. Quietly I creep around the outside of her massive house until I'm idling in the backyard. I have to admit that I'm just the teeniest bit worried that I might accidently trip some kind of silent alarm. Yeah, I can totally envision lights snapping on and her parents rushing out, demanding to know what some random dude is doing in their yard. Hmm, I wonder if Jordan owns any dogs. Hopefully, if she does- they're small, yappy ones I can outrun.

Otherwise I'm in for a potential ass chewing... and I'm not even talking about the dogs right now.

Here's the question now racing through my head- is she pissed enough that she would actually set me up to get caught? Because if I know chicks, and let's face it- I do, then, yeah, it might have crossed her mind.

And, well, I certainly can't exactly blame her for that because I acted like a total tool. Which, unfortunately, seems to be my M.O. with this girl. Seriously, I kind of wish I didn't like her as much as I do. Maybe I could stop making such a giant asshat out of myself. This whole experience has not exactly been good for my ego. Thank God it's so massive (like other parts of me) that it can stand to take a few hits.

Hey- get your mind out of the gutter- I was talking about my feet.

No, I really wasn't....

A couple of tense minutes later, the French doors creek open and Jordan quietly sneaks out onto the darkened brick paver patio. She's wearing an oversized Boston Red Sox sweatshirt and a pair of tight black leggings that do incredibly amazing things to her legs. Her long blond hair is piled on top of her head in a messy knot and she doesn't appear to be wearing any make up.

The difference between her and Natalie Cosgrove is almost mind boggling.

Like seriously.

That being said- it's almost unbelievable how much I want to yank this girl into my arms and crush my lips down on hers. Okay, okay, okay- we all know that I want to do a hell of a lot more than that. But I'd settle for a kiss since I've yet to even get that far with her. And at the rate I'm going- it's not going to be happening anytime soon either. You know, I can get pretty much any girl... except the one I want. Yep, just another freaking example of irony. Whoever said irony was a bitch was completely right.

It totally is.

Somehow, I think Ms. Fisk would rather enjoy the fact that I've finally discovered firsthand what irony is. She'd probably find it pretty ironic...

And here's a bit of good news- something is definitely stirring to life in my jeans. It's almost as if my woody is waking from a deep hibernation. I'm considering doing a little happy dance because, not that I was seriously worried (okay- maybe a little), but come on, it
was
fairly concerning that my hard on wasn't springing to life when Natalie was, for all intents and purposes, giving me a lap dance. And I just want to reiterate one more time- that has absolutely never happened to me before.

Like ever.

Yep, I now understand why erectile dysfunction is so devastating for older type dudes. Because trust me, having a limp dick in your jeans is completely upsetting. Not to mention really,
really
embarrassing.