by C. C. Wood
“Where ya going, Cat?”
I unclenched my jaw, which could have cracked a walnut shell due to how hard I was grinding my teeth. I really just wanted to be anywhere but where I was. However, I did have some pride and refused to share this with him.
“Nowhere, just feeling a bit claustrophobic.”
Patrick’s fingers traced my collarbone as he stared down at me. It was a struggle to meet his eyes, even in the darkness of Nat’s guest room. I had a feeling he was using his telepathy to probe my psyche. Okay, so I was pretty sure he wasn’t telepathic, but the man had an uncanny ability to read my thoughts and emotions. I sighed heavily.
His weight shifted as he rolled over and the bedside lamp clicked on. I squinted against the unexpected light, scowling at him.
“Why did you do that?” I demanded.
Patrick rolled back over and threw a leg over mine. “I wanted to be able to see your eyes.”
Operation Freak-Out commenced. I was a shitty liar, and I had a feeling that, shortly, I would need to lie my ass off. If he could see my face, he’d be able to read every expression.
“Why exactly do you need to see my eyes?”
It was spooky how well he read me, because he responded, “I’m pretty sure you’re going to try to lie to me in a minute, but your eyes always give you away.”
It appeared I was correct about my poker face needing a lot of work. I scowled at him and he smiled. Yup, he was freaking me out. I was already kicking myself for making the mistake of having sex with him, and now he obviously wanted to talk.
“Okay, what exactly do you think I’ll lie to you about?” I asked.
Patrick hesitated before countering with a question of his own. “Still think things are going too fast?
Okay, so he’d been right. I was going to lie to him, at least partially, starting now. “Yes, I can’t handle this. This was a huge mistake and it cannot happen again.” I paused. “Didn’t I say all this already?”
His eyes were serious, but one corner of his mouth cocked up. “Yes, but I used my powers of persuasion to retract that statement. Why do you keep denying that there is something between us, Cat, when our chemistry is obvious?”
I sighed again. “Chemistry can fizzle out, Patrick. Chemistry can also cause explosions. We’re going to see each other pretty regularly in the future, and, when that explosion happens, future contact will be too awkward. I for one am not willing to give up my best buddy just because you can give me earth-shattering orgasms.”
Patrick laughed. “Earth-shattering orgasms?” His arm tightened around me. “Glad to hear I can rock your world, Cat.”
I pinched his chest in retaliation and he flinched, but I refused to comment.
His face grew thoughtful. “So you think there’s nothing here, between us?” he asked. “Why?”
I really didn’t want to answer his question, because I was afraid that the lie I would have to tell would get me struck by lightning. Still, I needed to nip this in the bud before it got even more out of hand. I had a list as long as my arm as to why I shouldn’t continue this fling with Patrick, but lack of chemistry was not one of them.
“You’re just not my type, Patrick.”
I thought I would choke on the lie, because, over the last week, I’d begun to realize that Patrick was more my type than any other man I’d ever been with. I really liked the bastard. Somehow, in the last few days, he’d wormed his way under my skin and that made Operation Freak-Out step up to Self-Destruct Countdown, T-minus thirty seconds. If I didn’t put a stop to this now, I’d end up right back where I’d been four years ago, heartbroken, devastated, and completely disillusioned. My ex-fiance, Jeremy, had shown me exactly how thoroughly a man could destroy me. It had taken all of the last four years to rebuild my self-confidence and my dignity. I would never again give a man that much power over me again.
Patrick may not have been overbearing or verbally abusive like Jeremy, but I had a strong suspicion he wouldn’t be satisfied with anything other than everything I had to give. For all his easy-going ways, Patrick was a conqueror. Any challenge, any test, had to be thoroughly and completely defeated. His brother Aidan was the same way, which is why Nat hadn’t stood a chance against him.
With all these thoughts veering crazily in my head, I kept my eyes on Patrick’s. I couldn’t focus enough to figure out which excuse to use first. I tried to project honesty with my gaze and facial expressions, but I had a feeling he wasn’t buying it. I was right.
“I don’t believe you, Cat,” he said. His brows lowered and his face clouded. “You know we’re together, you’re just too chickenshit to face it.”
I was beginning to realize Patrick wasn’t the good-natured guy he seemed. He was more intense and bossy than he appeared to be. I just really wished that seeing that side of him didn’t make me shiver in some really good places, as in my lady parts.
I threw his arm off my waist and sat up, yanking the sheet with me. “This is crazy, Patrick. Why in the hell are we arguing about this in the middle of the night? You can’t force me to agree to anything.”
Patrick growled, sitting up with me. “I won’t force you to do anything, Cat. I won’t have to.” His smile was cold and more than a little scary.
He jerked the sheet away from me, leaving my naked body exposed. Roughly, he shoved me back down on the bed and pinned my wrists above my head with one big hand. I was struggling the entire time, but he was at least a foot taller than me and probably close to a hundred pounds heavier. I didn’t stand a chance. His lips trailed over my cheek to my mouth and I was so angry I tried to bite him. He jerked his head back, his face going sly. Instead of kissing me, his mouth drifted down my jaw to my throat, then he sank his teeth into the skin where my neck and shoulder met. It stung but I loved it. I wanted more.
I realized the direction of my thoughts and tried to shake myself out of the spell Patrick was weaving around me, but his mouth latched on to the inside of my breast, the edge of his teeth resting on my skin. He suckled, leaving a mark on my skin and I lost any coherent thought. I thrashed under him, trying to yank my wrists out of his grasp, but he wasn’t having any of it.
He kept my arms pinned above my head with one hand and the other cupped my breasts, tugging at my nipples, before sliding down to my pussy. Patrick slid a finger inside me, testing.
“Damn, you’re already so wet.”
I moaned in response, beyond actual organized speech patterns. He shifted over me, angling his hips. I felt the smooth skin of his dick sliding into me and I froze. My powers of speech returned immediately.
“Holy shit, Patrick, we need a condom.”
For a second I thought he was going to ignore me, but he blindly reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a foil packet. Using his teeth he tore open the packet, and he had to release my wrists to roll it on. I’d barely touched him when Patrick grabbed my wrists again, keeping them above my head.
“No, you’re going to lie here and take what I give you and I’m not going to stop until you admit that you want me as much as I want you.”
Honestly, that wasn’t much of a threat. More like a reason to goad him. If this was punishment, I should have become a bad girl a long time ago.
He positioned his hips and slid smoothly inside me. My neck arched, rolling my head back. Patrick’s movements were rough and fast, and I felt another one of those incredible orgasms building in my belly. When his teeth latched onto my shoulder again, I cried out. He was thrusting into me so hard, the headboard thumped the wall. When I started coming, I also started laughing, because the banging became louder and more insistent in tandem with his thrusts. Thank God we weren’t in my condo. My neighbors would have called the cops.
Patrick buried his face in my hair as he came and I heard him chuckling with me. He let go of my hands and cupped the back of my head. Finally free, I slid my palms against his shoulders and upper back, enjoying the feel of his skin against my hands. I pressed my mouth and tongue to his n
eck, tasting salt.
He pulled back, looking down at me with a small smile playing on his lips, his earlier alpha aggression forgotten for the moment.
“I guess that puts a whole new meaning to the term ‘banging’,” I said.
Patrick’s smile grew into a laugh. He rubbed his nose against mine. “I think you’re right.”
He grew serious again and I tensed. I had a feeling it was time to continue our earlier conversation, and there was no argument I could make after what just happened.
“Cat, please just keep an open mind, okay?”
I had no other response that wouldn’t seem completely pathetic, so I nodded. It wasn’t like he was asking me to make a commitment, just give him a chance. Although, that thought sounded scary, I would try. Still, I intended to keep part of me safe. It would be too easy for me to let him steamroll me, and when Patrick decided he was in charge, that was that. He might not belittle or berate me as men had done in the past, but he would expect me to do what he wanted, no matter how much I might try to argue with him or persuade him to change his mind. That attitude was something I was familiar with as I seemed to be drawn to that type of man when I let my guard down.
He smiled again and my heart stuttered. “We’re going to do this, Cat, and we’re in it together. Please trust me.”
Even though I knew better, I couldn’t help but believe he meant it. Sincere or not, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t crush my heart later if I gave him the chance.
After our wild night, Patrick still came over to Nat’s house every day. He just didn’t bother to keep his agreement. His hands and his lips were not kept to himself. As a matter of fact, his hands and lips tended to wander all over my body.
I would come home from work and head to the shower. Usually about halfway through shampooing my hair, I’d feel his calloused hands sliding up my neck to massage my scalp. Usually, my shower got very, very dirty from there.
Apart from Patrick having his wicked way with me, I enjoyed having him around. He was funny and, perversely, he seemed to find my sarcasm and acerbic wit entertaining. Apparently, the nice guy liked bad girls. Or at least smart-assed girls who swore a lot. We ate dinner together, watched a lot of the same TV shows, though he made fun of my guilty pleasure, Roseanne reruns.
I really liked Patrick, which had alarm bells, sirens, and assorted other warning devices blaring in my head. Probably because I was beginning to more than like him. I knew I was only a few shaky steps from falling in love with the lump. Even though I truly wanted to believe he was not my type, everything about him, even the things that irritated the crap out of me, interested me.
By the end of the week, we were practically joined at the hip. If I was home from work and he wasn’t working, we were together. Usually he came to Nat’s because I kept food in the house and I had a feeling his place was messy. I’d seen the truck he and Aidan shared for their business and, according to Aidan, Patrick was a slob.
I was off work on Friday, enjoying my afternoon of quiet and solitude, daydreaming about Patrick. Yes, pathetic, but he was smokin’ so I cut myself a little slack. It wasn’t often a girl had a man whose body could rival Chris Hemsworth’s. Yowza! My daydream, well, more a fantasy really, was interrupted by the doorbell. Dammit, I was just getting to the good parts, too. I went to the door and peeked out the window beside it. I could not believe who stood on the other side.
I pulled the door open and leaned against the jamb. “Hi, Anya. Patrick’s not here if you’re looking for him. I’m pretty sure he’s on a job somewhere.” She seemed so timid.
I felt sympathy for her. She’d had a pretty good guy and it hadn’t worked out. I could understand why she was having trouble letting go. Men like Patrick were few and far between.
She twisted her hands together. “Actually, Cat, I came to talk to you. Can I come in?”
What the hell? Why would she want to talk to me? I’d only met Anya a handful of times and I knew almost nothing about the woman. Still, I stepped back from the door and gestured for Anya to come in.
“Can I get you something to drink, Anya?”
She shook her head. I led her into the living room. She sat on the sofa and I took the chair to the side. Anya fidgeted with her skirt and crossed her legs. I waited but she didn’t begin, so I decided to dive right in.
“Why exactly are you here, Anya?”
She cleared her throat. “I wanted to talk to you about Patrick.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes, but just barely. I figured that. I wanted her to be more specific. “What about Patrick?”
Anya leaned forward, face earnest. “You need to leave him be. We love each other, but he needs some time. You’re just confusing him, distracting him from what he really needs and wants.”
I blinked. Holy delusional ex-fiancee Batman, this girl hadn’t just lost her marbles, she’d slipped and fell on them. I knew that none of the stuff she’d just spewed was true, at least not according to Patrick. I just didn’t understand why she believed it herself. I decided to tread carefully just in case the nutcase decided to blow. I’d heard so many horror stories about crazy exes, but now I’d gotten to see two up close in the last year. One was Anya, the other was Jack, Nat’s ex.
“I’m not sure I understand, Anya. Patrick hasn’t mentioned any of this to me. How am I confusing him?”
She leaned forward, smoothing her skirt down with both hands. “He needs someone who can be the kind of woman a man like him needs.”
Okay, talk about a vague response. “What kind of man is he, then? I need you to be a little more specific.”
She sighed. “No offense, Cat, but he needs a sophisticated woman who is comfortable in the circles he runs in. I don’t think you’d be right for that.”
Rawr! The kitty claws were out. So much for Patrick’s assertion that Anya was non-confrontational. I was beginning to suspect that Anya had been playing me since I’d met her. The meek, sweet woman who’d been on the front walk a few days was vanishing before my eyes. The woman in front of me was sly, had an agenda, and would not hesitate to use wiles and lies to get what she wanted. She was also a fucking gold digger. I would never have suspected, mostly because I didn’t even realize Patrick had a lot of money. I knew he wasn’t hurting, but I would never have thought that he had done that well for himself.
“I’m sure you’re right, Anya. However, I doubt Patrick needs a woman who’d be more interested in spending his money than in being a decent wife. Something tells me you fall into that category.”
I’d struck a verbal blow and Anya’s face turned pink with anger. Jeez, she even managed to make bitchiness and anger look attractive. I had to hand it to her, I’d been completely fooled the few times I’d met her. I was also shocked that Patrick had been blind to this side of her. He seemed so much more astute than that. Then again, a pretty face and perky boobs tended to distract a man.
“Okay, I can see that being sweet isn’t working, so I’ll be very blunt. Leave Rick alone, or I’ll make your life very, very difficult.”
Oh my God, she sounded like she was reading a script from a really bad B movie. Talk about lack of originality. I leaned back in my chair and waved a hand in her direction.
“Whatever, Anya. I’m sure you’d be about as effective as a mosquito, you buzz around, making an annoying noise, but no real damage done.” I stood up and smacked my thighs with my hands. “Now, with all that out of the way, I think you need to leave. I’m sure you think Patrick wouldn’t believe me if I told him about this conversation, and you might be right, but I think I’m in a sharing mood anyway.”
I turned to leave the room and found Patrick leaning against the wall, watching us. His jaw was tight and a muscle twitched there. Shit, he’d heard most of that conversation. I heard Anya gasp and realized that she’d just seen him. He straightened from the wall and stalked forward.
“You know, Anya, I just realized why I couldn’t marry you. I always felt like there was something a little off,
but I chalked it up to my own insecurities. It’s nice to know that my instincts were right. Well, mostly right. I think that I underestimated exactly how screwed up you were.”
I looked for a place to hide, because this situation was not my business. I really didn’t understand why Anya had tried to drag me into it in the first place or why she bothered warning me off. This thing that Patrick and I had was new. Sure, I realized we were moving quickly, but it had only been a little over a week. It wasn’t like we were living together. Well, not really. We slept in the same bed every night, but, when I went back to my condo, that would probably end. Neither of us knew how this would turn out, so I didn’t understand why she would feel the need to make such an aggressive move, which would also reveal her true colors.
I started to walk around Patrick and head out of the living room, but he placed a hand on my arm to stop me. I glanced at him, bugging out my eyes, trying to communicate that I really did not want to be in that room at that moment. For someone who read me well, Patrick picked a hell of a time to screw up the translation. He slid his hand down to mine and curled it around my palm.
“Now, Anya, you need to leave my brother and sister-in-law’s home and lose my number. If you call me, I will not answer. If you set a toe on either one of these properties, I will call the cops and press charges for trespassing.” He stepped away from the entrance to the living room, pulling me behind him. “Have a nice life.”
Apparently Anya knew she’d screwed the pooch royally, because she strolled to the front door, exited, and shut the door behind her with a quiet click. I shook my head, incredibly confused. I wasn’t sure what the hell just happened other than the fact that Anya had shown her true nature as an effing gold digger.
I looked up at Patrick. “That was completely and utterly fucked up.”