Parker's Story Ch. 04: First Date

Story Info
Parker & Grayson go on their first date.
6.8k words
4.72
5.7k
3

Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 07/14/2015
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Parker woke up to the sound of sizzling. Groggy and ever the grumpy morning person, she rolled out of bed and glared in the general direction of the noise. "Look everyone, she's finally awake." Grayson's sarcasm cut through her sleep haze and she rubbed her eyes, going to the railing and looking down. He was making pancakes on her stove and the smell of coffee swirled through her house.

"Even with the scorn, this is the best wake-up call I've had in years." Grayson glanced up at her, took in her disheveled hair that she'd unbraided and her somewhat wrinkled nightgown, and flashed such a heartfelt smile of appreciation that she almost fell over.

"I assume your weird diet lets you eat pancakes," he called as she started down the stairs. She made a face at him.

"It is not a weird diet, it's a healthy one. I guess to you that's the same thing. Good morning," she added, unable to stop her grin from spreading.

"It's not really morning anymore, but thanks for the sentiment." Parker glanced at the clock above the fridge and did a double-take.

"I slept until noon? What the hell! Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"Honestly, I may have fallen asleep. The sun was already up so I figured we were out of danger. Your couch is actually pretty comfortable." Parker nodded and laughed. "So, what's on the docket today? You want me out of your hair after breakfast—or lunch—or would you like to spend the day with me?"

His mention of hair had her running her fingers through her own, but she was momentarily distracted by the words that followed it. "You want to spend the day together?" she asked. Grayson flipped a pancake skillfully.

"Yeah. The thing is, I like you. And based on what happened last night, you like me, too." His mention of the night before had Parker's stomach in knots. He'd barely even touched her but a blush still rose to her cheeks and she thought of the last part of their conversation. He was apparently thinking of it too, because he put the spatula down and looked at her with a serious expression.

"I made a mistake last night with what I said. Honestly, I didn't even mean to say it. It's just . . . it's been a while for me, and I let my intense emotions cloud my judgment. I know we don't actually know each other that well and I don't have any sort of claim on you. Okay?" Relief flooded through her at his words. He'd sensed that he'd put too much pressure on her and she could only nod, grateful. Now that the pressure was gone she could make sense of things. See if this, whatever it was, could actually lead somewhere.

Smiling, Grayson took the spatula up again and continued cooking. In a few minutes he had a stack of pancakes set in front of her on the counter and was working on his own. "You didn't answer my question, by the way," he said, keeping his tone even.

And you can't make me answer, Parker thought to herself. He may not be her Dom, not by a long shot, but still the thought of disobeying his subtle command stirred up mischievous pleasure in her. She ate her food as though she hadn't heard him and heard the spatula being set down again. Grayson breathed deeply in and out while she stared down at her half-eaten pancakes.

"I know what you're doing," he exhaled. "It's a matter of being polite at this point. And just so you know, I have a long memory." In other words, he would remember her defiance if their relationship ever took the next step. Parker gulped but outwardly shrugged and after a moment of hesitation, during which she could feel his scowl, he resumed cooking.

"You'll spend the day with me." He wasn't asking. Done with his own food, he grabbed his plate and went around the counter to sit on the stool next to her. He was finished eating before her and as soon as she was done, he snatched her plate away and set it in the sink with his. "I'll be back in two hours, please be ready." Before she could respond he marched past her and to the door, closing it softly behind him.

Left alone, Parker sighed. Only twenty-four hours ago, Grayson had been the slightly irritating, surprisingly buff art teacher she ate lunch with. Now he was a man who'd expressed interest in dominating her. Had he known what she was already, or lucked out? Maybe he asserted himself over every woman he liked, and based on his looks, even "vanilla" women would want to do anything to please him. That would make sense. Looking around her house, Parker wasn't sure what to feel or think.

Glancing at the clock, she saw that she'd been sitting there contemplating for almost fifteen minutes. Rolling her eye at herself, she hopped up and got into the shower. When she was done she toweled off and blow-dried her hair, something she almost never took the time to do anymore. Putting it in a loose braid that fell over her shoulder and down past her chest, she wrapped the towel around her middle and went to her closet.

What was Grayson planning for their day together? Still a little embarrassed she'd slept so long, she dug through what little she knew about him to try and figure out his plans. He liked sculpture, obviously, and wherever his parents were he wasn't too fond of them. He ate like a teenager. She was pretty sure he didn't like her smoking, even though he'd done it the day she'd met him the parking lot. He was annoyingly sure of himself. Other than that, he was a mystery. A painfully attractive mystery.

In short, she had no idea what they were going to do when he picked her up. Something that could be casual and semi-elegant, then. She pulled out a blue plaid dress that hugged her body and ended in the middle of her thighs and dug a pair of black boots out of her closet. Not knowing if whatever they were doing would last into the night, she also grabbed a black cardigan to take with her. Going back downstairs she turned her iPod on and, with a smirk, blasted Nirvana while putting on her makeup.

There was a pounding on the door an hour later and she jumped up, clicking the music off and flinging the door open to reveal Grayson. He'd tidied himself up a bit, pushing the hair back behind his ears and switching out his customary plaid for a button-down black shirt. The stubble that normally swallowed up his jawline was gone and Parker could see every delicious curve and angle of his face.

As she studied him, butterflies fluttering to life inside her, he did the same. His gaze roamed from the heels of her shoes to the hem of her dress, inching slowly up the fabric until he met her stare. His jaw tightened.

"I'm guessing that music was for my benefit," he said, the calmness of his voice not matching the burning behind his eyes. Her retort got lost somewhere in her throat. Trying to ease the intensity that sparked the air between them, she waved her hand dismissively.

"So, what are we doing? You didn't really clue me in so for all I know, we're going to a rodeo." When he said nothing, just continued to stand there and stare at her, her face grew hot. Was it her outfit? A tinge of embarrassment sprang to life in her chest, one that she tried to beat down. If he thought she looked ridiculous it was his own fault, not hers. "I'm going to go change," she said, turning to run back up the stairs. She only got one step in before Grayson grabbed her and spun her back around.

"Please don't," he said, some of the tension in his face leeching into his voice. There was a slightly desperate edge to it that he was working to control and Parker's face slowly lit up in a smile.

"You like this outfit then?" she asked. She tried to turn to the side so he could see the back, which was mostly just a thin black material that showed her skin. He stilled gripped her arm though, making the movement difficult. He saw enough to get the idea, and a low rumble slid from his lips.

"Change of plans," he breathed. The door shut behind him and echoed in the quiet room, his eyes never leaving her. Parker gulped.

"If this stupid dress ruins whatever we were going to do, I can go change. Seriously. Just stop looking at me like that."

"The dress ruins nothing, I've just changed my mind. You look nice."

"So do you." Though nice doesn't really cut it, Parker thought, wanting to rub her fingers against the smooth skin of his cheek. She couldn't decide if she liked him clean-shaven or stubbly better. "So, um, what are you going to do now?" Grayson cleared his throat and stepped away from her, gaining control over his expression again.

"We're going to get coffee." When Parker glanced back at the still-full pot on the counter, Grayson shook his head. "Fresh coffee, somewhere public. So we can talk." She liked that idea. Hopefully she'd find out more about him and some of the mystery of him would be solved. He was probably hoping to do the same with her. Parker smiled.

"Let's go then," she said. She still felt like changing, but Grayson clearly enjoyed her outfit so she decided against it. Pulling on a jean jacket and rolling up the sleeves, she followed him outside and let him open his car door for her. The interior smelled like him, surrounding her with an intoxicating blend of musk and sweetness. He slid into the seat next to her and pulled away from the curb, the car surprisingly smooth as they drove.

"I don't hate Nirvana, by the way," he said as they turned a corner.

"Hm? Oh, that." She chuckled, having already forgotten. "Good. If you did, I'd have to jump out of this car right now." Grayson rolled his eyes.

"So you like Nirvana."

"Yes."

"What other music do you like?" he asked. She shrugged.

"The music I grew up listening to. Alternative stuff, indie stuff, maybe even a little Jewel now and then." It was Grayson's turn to chuckle. "What about you?"

Instead of answering, he pressed a button on the music player she hadn't noticed before and the car filled with a tortured male voice. Parker glanced over at him in surprise but didn't say anything. The song faded away and another, this one heavy with the screeching of a guitar, replaced it. It ended and Grayson turned the volume down.

"So, not the same stuff I listen to," Parker said.

"Not quite." They turned another corner and Parker could see they were headed downtown. He was taking her someplace busy, then. Smart. They chatted casually for the rest of the drive and quieted when he pulled into a busy parking lot. Cars and people crossed in front of them and it took a few minutes to find an empty spot.

Grayson opened the car door for her again and she got out, adjusting the bottom of her dress as she did. They went into the two-story cafe, a little bell tinkling overhead, and looked around for a free table. There weren't any on the lower level so he led her up and they squeezed around the crunch of bodies and furniture to the far corner. Grayson handed her one of the little menus and they perused in silence.

"What sounds good?" he asked after a minute.

"A cappuccino." Grayson nodded and got up, weaving back to the stairs and disappearing. Parker glanced around at the people surrounding her, wondering what they were doing. Some were clearly on lunch dates, their legs grazing playfully under their tables, and a few businesswomen near the window were glued to their phones.

Grayson returned with their drinks and when he sat back down, he grinned over at her. It reminded her of the lazy smile he'd given in the parking lot when he'd snatched the cigarette from between her lips. "You don't like that I smoke, do you?" she asked suddenly.

Grayson's smile remained. "Random, but perceptive. You're right, I don't. It's just doesn't seem like something you'd do."

"But I do it, so it is something I'd do," she said somewhat confusingly. Grayson shook his head, some of the hair slipping from behind his ear and falling over his cheek.

"You have the diet of a rabbit, you keep your house and your car clean, but not your body. I mean, outwardly—" his eyes ran quickly down her what little he could see of her "—you take care of yourself, but the smoking is poisoning your insides. It doesn't track." He was right, of course. She could try to explain herself but instead she sipped her steaming mug. "I'll have to break you of the habit." She nearly choked.

"But you smoke." She remembered him plucking the cigarette from her lips and putting it in his own.

"Not really, that was just . . ." He trailed off, rethinking the rest of his answer. When he couldn't think of a different way to phrase it, he shrugged and let it drop. Parker was curious but didn't press him. "So, Parker. Tell me something."

"Okay." He stared at her over his cup of what looked like black coffee and she squirmed a little. When he didn't continue, she cocked her head to the side. "Did you have a question in mind?"

"Yes. I want to know about your family." That wasn't what she'd expected him to say.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything." Parker thought for a minute.

"Well, my parents are Wendy and Sam. You already know they're farmers, and they used to live here but a few years ago they moved to Idaho. I haven't seen them in a while, or even talked to them." She'd used to call them at least once a week, but after the things that had happened to her in college she'd been too ashamed to pick up the phone. Grayson sensed the change in her mood and cleared his throat, reclaiming her attention.

"Did they teach you how to farm, growing up?"

"Mhm. I don't really have a yard but I'd like to start gardening again. I'd have to move though, and I like my house too much to think about doing that yet."

"I like your house, too." His approval brought a smile to her face and she turned the conversation on him.

"You said you still live in the house you grew up in." A nod was all she got in reply. "So you like it, then."

"No." His voice was sharp. "My parents left it to me and the payments aren't done, so I'm stuck there for now." Regret laced his tone. His parents had died? Parker reached across the table and patted his hand. His eyes widened in surprise and then he pulled away, tucking his hands in his lap. "Let's talk about something else." When no new topic was introduced, they just sipped their coffee for a few minutes.

Grayson barked out a laugh and Parker almost spilled her drink all over the table. "Jesus," he sighed, dark amusement twinkling in his eyes. "I've said it before: I really know how to kill a conversation."

Parker smiled encouragingly. "Don't worry about it."

"Let's keep talking about you," he said, putting his cup down. "What made you want to be a teacher?"

"Nothing. To be honest, I'm not even sure it was the right thing to do. All I really want to do is stay home and paint all day, but no one's going to pay me to do that, so I just picked something that would get me a job and put me somewhere in the vicinity of art. It was either teaching . . . No, that's pretty much the only choice I had."

"There are always choices, Parker. Are you saying you don't like teaching?"

"I like it. I mean, I like aspects of it." Her mind went to Evan and his demeaning portrait of her. "Other parts, not so much." Grayson guessed what she was thinking.

"He wasn't suspended, you know. It was my fault. Burning the picture was stupid, since it was the only evidence against him. He just got detention for a couple of days and pulled from the class, obviously."

"I'm glad you did it." If he hadn't, the drawing would have been shown to the principal and probably some of the staff, and just the thought of it made her cheeks burn. "I—" Parker cut herself off; had she really just been about to tell him that story? Grayson peered at her with interest and concern. "Never mind."

"Tell me." It wasn't the demanding tone he'd used before with those words, and something in the back of her mind urged her to do as he'd said. She couldn't do it though and after a few seconds, shook her head. Now wasn't the time to revisit her humiliating past. This was a coffee date, and the conversation was supposed to be light and friendly. Grayson didn't seem to want to let it go so she sighed and said, "Not now. Later."

She knew he took her answer as a promise and was satisfied. "So, to sum up, your dream is to quit your job, stay home all day, and paint." Parker nodded. "Not a bad life." He smiled and glanced down at his empty cup, then at hers. "Let me get a refill."

When he returned he continued asking her about her life. There wasn't a lot to tell, and other than her past relationships—which he didn't even breech, much to her surprise—they discussed everything in a matter of minutes. Quiet grew again and she steeled herself to say what he was too polite to ask.

"I've had two," she said, eyes cast down at the table. She heard his cup clatter gently as he put it back on the little plate.

"Two what?" It was clear he already knew but she answered anyway, her voice quiet.

"Two Doms." A pause.

"I see." When he said nothing more, she pulled her gaze up to his face. His expression was calm and controlled, something she was getting used to. It seemed more like his real face than the one she'd met, the slightly mocking and sarcastic one. It fit him like a glove.

"I was with the first one in high school, but neither of us really knew what we were doing. Looking back on it, it wasn't really much of anything."

"And the second one?" he asked. Parker swallowed and started to sweat. She'd brought it up and of course he'd want to know, but still she hesitated. "It's okay, Parker." The smallest flicker of a smile appeared on his lips, encouraging her. "You don't have to tell me anything, you know. We're just two friends having coffee. Nothing more."

He was right. He wasn't putting any pressure on her at all, which is what made her decide to tell him. Wringing her hands under the table, she forced herself to keep eye contact with him. "The second one was my college painting instructor. Matthew." Just saying his name made bile rise her throat. "He was older, more experienced, and in class he was so nice to me. He was a really good teacher."

"But . . ." Grayson said knowingly. Parker blinked. But a really bad Dom, she finished in her head. No way would she voice those words, though. Not now, and definitely not in a crowded café where anyone could hear.

"But things changed. He changed." She struggled to finish. "We were together for a year and a half. Things ended a few months before I graduated." So it was still too fresh, she thought. She wished she hadn't even brought it up but something about Grayson made her want to spill all of her secrets. It was dangerous.

"And you haven't been with anyone since then." It was a statement. Parker shook her head and Grayson looked her over, as if seeing her in a new light. She hoped he still liked what he saw. "Let's get out of here." He drained the last of his coffee and Parker gratefully stood, her legs slightly stiff. He didn't touch her as he followed her through the maze and down the stairs, but she could still feel him behind her. His presence helped calm her as she struggled to push Matthew from her mind.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked when they were out on the sidewalk. The herd of people had swelled, clogging both sides of the busy road.

"Let's just walk around for a bit." He wanted to keep his distance but the bustling made it impossible, and they nearly lost each other. He settled for placing a hand gently on her back, barely grazing her, but a warmth spread through her at his touch. She kept glancing up at him as they walked down to the intersection and took a left. The extravagant shops turned slowly into more accessible ones; Parker even spotted a record store on the other side of the road. She hadn't spent much time in the shopping district, even growing up, so it felt new to her.

The crowds thinned so that Grayson was able to remove his hand and settle in comfortably next to her, easily matching her gait. He seemed content just walking with her, saying nothing, and fuzzy feelings started swimming through her. Though they hadn't talked much about him, she was starting to see the truth of him bit by bit. When she glanced sideways at him and saw him tuck his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, his profile a sharp cut against the sparkling backdrop of store fronts, she thought she'd never seen anyone so downright gorgeous. She took a mental picture of him with a secret smile.

12