Confessions of a Heartbreaker Read Free Page B

literally feel my brows drawing together as I stare at her. Under normal circumstances, I do enjoy Marissa's kisses. She's an excellent kisser. Definitely a top ten in my book. She doesn't use too much suction. And she keeps her saliva to a minimum. I absolutely hate both of those things. Who wants to feel as if someone is trying to suck the tonsils right out of their body? I sure as hell don't. And frankly the thought of someone else's saliva pooling in my mouth just about makes me gag. Maybe I'm a little particular about the way I like being kissed but those two things are total deal breakers for me.
    She flutters her long mascara laden lashes as she continues to coo in a soft baby voice, "Don't you want to take me home tonight?"
    Ah, not if she's going to continue talking to me like that, I don't.
    Why the hell is she talking like that anyway? It's a total turn off.
    I suppose it's entirely possible that she has some kind of speech issue I've never noticed before because... well, let's face it, Marissa and I don't exactly engage in a ton of verbose conversations when we're together.
    "Umm," honestly, I'm not in the mood.
    She must sense that she's losing my interest because she starts very gently nibbling at my lips. Something within me loosens. Actually, a lot within me loosens. Okay, now I'm really starting to enjoy this. What I like even more is that she's taking my mind off Beer Girl and the giant asshat I just made out of myself.
    Now this, this is how my interactions with chicks usually end up. Not whatever sad attempt that was out there by the keg. And they certainly don't call me a man whore and walk away either.
    Thankfully she's stopped all that stupid baby talk and is whispering things that are better left unsaid in a public forum such as this. Giving in, because I'm not made of stone after all (well, maybe one part of me is) I finally wrap my arms around her. I feel the smile of satisfaction curve her lips upward as she continues licking and nipping at my mouth.
    Ahhh, that feels so good.
    "Are you ready to get out of here, Parker?  Because I am."
    For some reason my eyes stray one last time to the front door before returning to Marissa.
    I’m not going to lie, this has kind of been a weird night for me. So, yeah, I'm definitely ready to go.
     
    Chapter Three
     
    "Parker, honey? Are you up yet?"  Without any other warning, my mom comes into my bedroom and then does the unthinkable... she yanks open the curtains allowing brilliant sunlight to filter through.  Smashing the pillow over my face, I groan before rolling over. I hear the door click shut leaving me to drift back to sleep for a few minutes before it's opened again.
    "Parker, we need to talk to you. Get up. Now ."
    That's my dad. He doesn't sound happy. Which, honestly, is nothing new. I'm not even sure why it bothers me anymore. That's just the way things are between us.
    Removing the pillow from my face, I blink the harsh sunlight out of my eyes as I squint at the clock. Jeez, it's only ten in the morning!
    "Parker!"
    Argh.
    Rolling out of bed, I throw on a t-shirt and some flannel pants before shuffling my way down the steps to find out what the freak is so important that they had to practically drag me from my bed at what seriously feels like the ass crack of dawn.
    Yeah, someone had better be dead or I'm gonna be pissed.
    Hitting the last step, I swivel only to find the pair of them sitting in the living room. My mom's hands are neatly folded in her lap. There's a solemn look filling her eyes which, I've come to understand through many years of experience, never bodes well for me. My dad just looks like his normal aggravated, short tempered self. So that doesn't necessarily surprise or impress me. Both of their eyes land on me as soon I walk in. Stopping short, my gaze bounces slowly between the pair of them because it suddenly feels like I've stumbled into an intervention.
    Great.  Like I need this shit first thing in the