“Thank you,” I quietly replied, a rosy blush creeping across my cheeks.
Patrick slid a hand onto my arm, and I trembled at his touch. “Lucy…you really are beautiful,” he said, leaning closer. “I’ve always thought that. I really want to be alone with you right now.”
“Um…we are alone,” I managed to choke out. As far as I was aware, his Mom was at work, his Dad was out of the picture, and he didn’t have any siblings.
“I meant in a more private location,” he said, nodding towards the hall.
I chewed on my lip and looked away. I knew what was down the hall. His bedroom.
And I knew what that meant.
If I was smart I would have told him to piss off. But I wasn’t smart. I was young and rapt with the attention I was suddenly getting from the hottest guy I’d ever seen.
“Okay,” I tentatively replied.
He stood up and pulled me towards him, his lips pressing down on mine as his hands roamed over my shirt. Breaking away only a few seconds later, he lowered a hand to mine.
“Come on,” he murmured.
He led me down the hall and into his room, and I marveled at the fact that I was in Patrick Archer’s room. Patrick Archer wanted me. A mischievous grin lit his features as he looked at me, and a shy smile spread across my own face as I realized what was about to happen. I was going to lose my virginity to him, and I almost pinched myself to see if I was dreaming.
He pulled me towards him again. His thick arm circled me and pulled me to one side, and I picked up on a faint hint of cologne and masculine sweat. A fatal combination for my panties. God, he was so sexy.
“You’re beautiful,” he repeated as he nuzzled my neck. “And smart. You’re not like the others. You’re amazing.”
He pushed me down on his bed a moment later. His hand found my legs and tried to pry them apart, and I locked my knees together. Suddenly I was afraid. I’d heard that it hurt the first time, and I widened my eyes and looked up at him as he made soothing sounds.
“It’s okay,” he said softly. “It’ll only hurt for a sec when it happens. Just relax.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “Do it.”
I tried to relax like he’d told me to, and his hand moved higher on my thigh. His insistent fingers stroked me, higher and higher until he’d reached the zipper to my jeans.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asked, concern flashing in his eyes.
I nodded and let out a little moan of an answer as he unbuttoned my jeans and yanked the zipper down. “Yes.”
I helped him roll them down past my ankles along with my panties, and he pulled my shirt up and unhooked my white bra. I felt a little embarrassed at my shabby choice in underwear, but he didn’t seem to care. He unzipped his own pants, slipped on a condom and settled himself between my legs, and then right there on his bed, I spread my legs as he guided himself to my slippery entrance. He moved quickly and deliberately, thrusting into me as deeply as he could, and he stopped as I cried out.
“Shh,” he said before leaning down and planting a kiss on my forehead. “I promise it’ll get better.”
The aching pain subsided as he slid a hand between us and rubbed my clit, and I tried to stifle my moans as I gritted my teeth and wrapped my legs around him, hooking my ankles around his back.
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned as he resumed his thrusting inside me.
It was starting to feel good…no, amazing. I understood why people went so crazy over sex now. I relished every thrust and grinding motion of Patrick’s groin against my clit, and as I came for the first time with a man inside me, he was spurred on by my soft moans and wildly-contracting muscles. His movements quickened, and then he groaned and jerked inside me, his cock still throbbing as he slowly pulled out and rolled over.
“Fuck, that was good,” he said, sitting up and disposing of the condom.
“Oh,” I replied. I really didn’t know what else to say. I’d heard horror stories from girls around school about how much they’d bled and how much it had hurt when they slept with their boyfriends for the first time, but it really hadn’t been like that for me. Yes, it had ached at first, but that pain had quickly subsided and turned into a sharp-edged pleasure, and if there was any blood on the condom afterwards, Patrick hadn’t mentioned it. Maybe he was trying to make me feel less awkward.
He rolled back onto the bed and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for a tender kiss. “Wanna go again?”
“Already?” I asked. I didn’t know much about sex, but I did know that most guys needed time to recover afterwards. My own muscles were aching, yet the thought of having him inside me again made my legs quiver with mad desire.
He grinned. “You’re just that sexy, babe,” he said.
I yelped with surprise as he scooped me into his arms and carried me over to his desk, and when his hands reached between my legs, the dreamlike bliss started all over again…and again…until I came crashing down the next day.
After we’d had sex for the third time that afternoon (talk about a wild introduction to sex, huh?) Patrick walked me to the bus stop so I could get home. He’d kissed me goodbye and said he’d ‘hit me up’ at school the next day, and for a few seconds as I stood by my locker the next morning, I’d held onto the fleeting fantasy that it was true as he walked towards me.
He looked like he was about to say something to me when he was accosted by Jessica Watkins and her cheerleader minions. Patrick and Jessica had dated on and off, and from what I’d recently heard on the grapevine, they’d been off for a while.
“Baby, did you get my message?” I heard her say to him. He stopped in the hall and shrugged, and she gave him a simpering smile.
“I told you I decided we’re getting back together,” she said before jerking her head towards me. “I stopped by your house yesterday to see you, and I saw you…with that loser. But I’m willing to forgive that if you admit it meant nothing. It was nothing, right, baby?”
Everyone in the hall went quiet at that and stared at me, and Patrick’s eyes locked onto mine as I quietly closed my locker.
“Well?” Jessica demanded. “Did it mean anything?”
I really thought he’d say yes. I really thought the moments we’d shared the day before had been special. But I’d been dumb. Oh-so dumb.
“No.”
The word hit me like a bullet.
All the breath went out of my lungs, and Jessica giggled and linked arms with him before sauntering off down the hallway. Her minions glared daggers at me and then stalked after them, and Patrick never even turned his head to look back at me.
And that had been it. My fate was sealed. I was suddenly the ‘slut’ who’d tried to ‘steal’ Jessica’s man, even though everyone knew they weren’t together when we’d hooked up. People didn’t care about the truth. They only cared about perpetuating the rumor mill and supporting the most popular girl in the school, and I was a nobody compared to Jessica frickin’ Watkins.
I’d spent the next year scrubbing my name off the bathroom walls and fending off more rumors and accusations. Loosey-Lucy, they called me, along with ‘whore’, ‘skank, and ‘bitch’, which I often found written on the outside of my locker in pink lipstick. I had no friends, and practically everyone laughed at me and ridiculed me no matter what I did. I didn’t even go to my senior prom because I was afraid someone would recreate ‘Carrie’ and dump a bucket of pig’s blood on me.
People always said high school was just a blip in your life, and once it’s over, you don’t have to worry about it anymore…but holy hell, that wasn’t true. High school kids could be vicious, and even though I’d graduated over a year ago, I still had awful nightmares about my experiences there. It was no wonder I’d decided against going to college. I was afraid of being trapped on another campus with another group of stuck-up, immature assholes all over again.
Patrick had never apologized for his part in my high school demise, and I didn’t particularly want to
forgive him anyway. I could take rejection. What I couldn’t take was the torture that followed from everyone else in the months afterwards, even after Patrick and Jessica had finally split up for good.
Even now, his ‘no’ still echoed in my head along with the other student’s scathing insults, and I wanted to smash his face with my fists at the thought of him. So yeah, hopefully I’d be able to avoid him at the studio when I went to work for my Dad, because if I didn’t, I had no idea what I might be tempted to do.
Screw Patrick Archer.
CHAPTER TWO
LUCY
I dashed into the main studio offices, worrying that I’d be late. One thing I’d learned in school was that in the business world, if you weren’t fifteen minutes early, you were late. My Dad’s secretary had told me my meeting with him would be at nine, and as I glanced at my watch to check the time, I ran smack bang into Satan’s spawn himself.
“Hey, watch where you’re going!” Patrick said before taking a step back and realizing it was me. “Oh, it’s you. Nice outfit. Really digging the pencil skirt. So many chicks these days are going for the boho look, but I’ve gotta say I like the office chic look on you.”
His lips curled into his trademark arrogant smirk, something his fans adored. They all thought it made him look like a lovable bad boy, but to me, he was just bad in general. I blushed as I smoothed down my grey skirt, trying to ignore his ice-blue eyes roving all over my curves. It was an almost impossible task, considering how gorgeous his eyes were, and as I stood there, I was reminded of why my heart used to race whenever I saw him in the school halls, long before we’d slept together.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He scoffed. “Er, let’s see, I’m an actor, and this is a TV studio, so let’s do the math…”
“Shut up. I meant what are you doing outside my Dad’s office specifically?”
He shrugged. “He asked me to come see him this morning. He’s on the phone at the moment, though.”
“Well, my appointment with him is at nine, so you’re going to have to wait until I’m done before you can see him,” I said, glancing at my watch again. It was five after already.
“So what are you seeing your Dad for?” he asked, arching one brow.
My cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. “Um…I’m talking to him about a possible job.”
He feigned a shocked expression. “Wait, you’re telling me that a bowling alley reference and a year of volunteer work in Africa hasn’t scored you a big career already?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Look who’s talking. Your Mom is married to one of the studio execs. I bet that doesn’t hurt your chances at picking up TV gigs. Without it, you’d probably be in the same boat as me.”
He grinned and leaned in close, so close I could feel his hot breath on my face. “Maybe I should marry the studio exec’s daughter. That’d make it even easier for me to get jobs.”
I shoved him away. “You wish. By the way, have you ever heard of breath mints?”
“Oh, come on, sis, no need to be rude.”
I put my hands on my hips.
“You know, if your brain exploded it probably wouldn’t even mess up your hair,” I hissed, glaring up at him. I wasn’t exactly a dwarf, but he was so tall that I certainly felt like one around him.
He widened his eyes into a faux-dumb expression. “I think I’m too stupid to get that insult. Are you implying that my brain is tiny?”
I rolled my eyes and didn’t bother responding. Typical Patrick, always trying to get a rise out of me. Back in school, when all the stuff had gone down between us courtesy of his bitch girlfriend, he hadn’t been this bad. He’d just ignored me. But ever since my Dad married his Mom, he seemed to take every opportunity to antagonize me. Going to Africa had been amazing for many reasons, but getting to spend nearly twelve blissful months without Patrick? Priceless, as the credit card ads say.
My Dad emerged from his office a second later. “Ah, there you two are. Sorry about that. Phone call with New York ran later than I expected. Come on in,” he said gesturing towards his door.
Patrick started towards the door, and I raised my eyebrows. “Wait, what? I thought you just wanted to see me,” I said.
“No, I need to talk to the two of you together,” Dad said, waving us both in.
What the…?
Patrick gave me what I assumed he thought was a winning smile as we walked in and sat down, and my Dad smiled as well and took a seat across from us.
“Thanks for coming in. Okay, let’s get down to business. As Patrick already knows, The Werewolf Diaries is finishing soon. The episodes have already been filmed, and the final season premieres next Friday.”
“Wait…they cancelled it?” I asked. Strange. It was one of the most popular shows on TV at the moment.
“Not exactly,” Dad replied. “It’s been on for five seasons already, not counting the upcoming one. Patrick joined the cast quite late, as you know. We’ve agreed that it’s run its course, and everything that’s going on at the moment isn’t exactly helping matters.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
He sighed. “We’ve been having a lot of writers going on strike lately, and people are losing their jobs left, right and center due to the fallout from that. Not a good time for TV networks. Anyway, I digress. Patrick’s contract with The Werewolf Diaries is over, so it’s time for a change.”
I looked over at Patrick and gave him a victorious smirk of my own. “So I guess I’m not the only one out of a job at the moment,” I said.
He ignored me, and my Dad smiled. “Not quite, sweetheart. He’s just signed a contract to appear on this season of Six Angels.”
I snorted, certain he was joking. “Six Angels as in that religious show?”
Six Angels was a TV drama aimed at morally-upstanding viewers. No profanity, violence, sex, drug use or drinking was portrayed on it, so it wasn’t exactly something that fitted with Patrick’s bad boy persona. Barely a day went by without some gossip site releasing pictures of him drunkenly falling out of nightclubs or getting into fights.
My Dad frowned. “It’s not a religious show. It’s a clean drama aimed at an audience who are…well, I guess you could describe them as rather chaste.”
“Uh-huh. But what’s that all got to do with me?” I asked.
“Well, we all know that Patrick’s public image isn’t exactly a good fit for a show like Six Angels,” he replied before glancing at Patrick. “Sorry, son. No offense intended.”
Patrick chuckled. “None taken.”
“Anyway,” Dad continued, looking back at me. “They agreed to take him on as a series regular if he signed a morality clause and cleaned up his act a little. We took care of the contract signing last night, but we need someone to help him uphold it and also to help to clean up his image.”
“Isn’t that what PR companies do?” I asked, still uncertain as to what this all had to with me.
“Usually, yes. But like I said, times are tough for a lot of companies at the moment with all these strikes. Our regular PR place is swamped, and they don’t have anyone available to take on a task of…er…”
“Such magnitude?” Patrick asked with a grin. “I’m not that bad, am I?”
“Speaking of magnitude, your IQ doesn’t make a decent-sized earthquake,” I mumbled.
“I heard that.”
Dad held his hands up. “Okay, okay, calm down, you two. All Richter scale jokes aside, I know you haven’t always gotten along, but I think this would be a good chance for you to get closer and act like real siblings. Family is important, you know. Basically, Lucy…what I want you to do is act in the capacity of relationship manager to Patrick. Everything I just mentioned is part of the job description.”
He reached into his desk to grab some papers, and Patrick leaned over to me. “I wouldn’t mind managing a relationship with you if you’re gonna keep wearing skirts like that,” he whispered.
“Shut up.”
/> Dad located some papers and passed them over to me. “There you go. It’s all laid out there. You’ll plan and arrange media appearances and such for Patrick to be seen doing good things for the community, and you’ll also monitor his behavior.”
“Monitor me? In what way?” Patrick said sharply, leaning forward. It seemed like he’d finally decided to listen properly.
“She’ll be making sure you stay on the straight and narrow for as long as you’re on this show,” Dad replied. “You haven’t exactly got the best reputation, so the studio has deemed this necessary. No more wild partying at seedy clubs, no smoking, no binge drinking…nothing that could violate your morality clause or damage the show’s reputation.”
“I don’t need a fucking minder. I knew I shouldn’t have signed that crap,” Patrick said with an eye roll that reached the heavens.
No shit. If he hadn’t signed, then I might not be here right now being offered a job as a glorified babysitter to him. It wasn’t exactly what I’d been hoping for. Then again, beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“No need for that kind of language, son. And sorry, but if you want to keep your job, the studio has deemed it necessary. Unless you want to get sued for breach of contract, that is.”
I sighed. “When would I start?” I asked, already regretting coming in. I’d wanted to avoid Patrick as much as possible, and now I was apparently going to be paid to basically stalk him around everywhere and drag him out of bars in the middle of the night if need be.
“Right away. I’ve already spoken with your mother, and she agrees that your job would be easier if you came to live with us at the Calabasas house. That way you’re much closer to Patrick, and it’ll be easier to keep your eye on him.”
“What?”
Patrick and I both spoke in unison, and Dad smiled. “Now, now. It’s not that bad. Like I said earlier, I want you two to spend more time together. I want all of us to spend more time together, actually. Life is short. You never know what’s going to happen. You can stay in the guesthouse by the pool if you want. That way you’ll still have your own privacy if need be.”
Trick - A Stepbrother Romance Page 2
