by C. C. Wood
A half hour later, I was a lot more awake and full of toast and marmalade. I had a huge to-do list for my day off. I spent an intense hour at the gym, sweating out all the junk food I’d eaten. After a quick shower at the gym, I met Michael for pedicures, some serious shopping, and sushi. While we are at the salon, Michael was asking me about housesitting and threatening to set up a kegger for the weekend. He said something about floating the empty keg in the pool. It had something to do with his old college days, but I tuned him out. I was pretty sure half the crap Michael told me was from a hallucination, because he’d spent most of his college career drunk or under the influence of wacky tobacky.
Michael snapped me out of a rather pleasant day dream about Joe Manganiello and he wasn’t too happy with me for ignoring him.
“Cat, dammit, are you paying attention at all?”
I blinked at Michael. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I was having a moment with a werewolf.”
He smirked at me, knowing exactly what I meant. “Well, save it for later, I wanna know if you’ve seen the very sexy Patrick Hart since you moved in.”
I scowled. “Yes, I’ve seen him nearly every damn day for the last week. He keeps showing up to bum food, or just to bug the crap out of me. I could kill Nat for not telling me that he’d moved in next door.”
Michael chuckled. He was still grinning when he spoke again. “You know our girl. She loves to mess with you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked him to drop by and check on you.”
I sat straight up. “That bitch!” The poor woman working on my feet looked up at me, startled. I sank back down into the massage chair and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”
She nodded and went back to massaging my feet.
Michael was still smiling when I looked back at him. “I take it Hunky Hart-boy Number 2 is making you crazy again.”
I growled at him. “Shut it, Mikey, or I’ll tell Nat you want to have a kegger at her house while she’s gone.”
He still smiled, knowing I’d instigate the entire party and never tell Nat. “Seriously, Cat, what’s the problem?”
I scowled as the nail tech used a sugar scrub on my calves. “He’s obnoxious. The first morning after the wedding, he woke me up at freakin’ eight in the morning, looking for coffee! He scared the crap out of me.”
“Whatever. You know you think he’s hot,” Michael said.
I sighed. “Of course he’s hot, but he’s not my type.”
Michael patted my arm. “Don’t lie to yourself, girl, that man is everybody’s type.”
I refused to respond to that remark. He merely grinned and let the subject drop because he knew he’d made his point. After our pedicures, we ate a ton of sushi and headed out to the mall for a shopping marathon.
For the next four hours, Michael dragged me to every department store and shoe store in the mall. Two hours in, I was ready to go home, but he refused to leave until he found a shirt in the perfect shade of purple. This search continued for another two hours. Seriously, nothing on this planet, short of a wedding dress, was worth four hours of shopping in a single day.
Finally, I dragged Michael, whining and struggling, out of the mall. I hugged my favorite gay good-bye and went home. It wasn’t quite dinner time, so I made a huge mojito and dragged my bags up to the guest room. I cut tags off clothing and a few sexy pieces of lingerie that Michael had snuck into my bags when I wasn’t looking. I threw everything in the washer, the lacy undies in a lingerie bag, and chugged the last of my mojito. Then I made another to take upstairs and drink while I took a bubble bath in Nat’s fantastic tub.
I lazed in the fragrant, hot water for almost an hour, enjoying my drink and a very sexy novel on my e-reader. I almost didn’t need to warm up the water, because the love scenes and chemistry in the book were that steamy. By the time I finished my soak, I was very, very horny. A session with my vibrator was in my near future. I dried off and walked out of the bathroom naked, because my skin was too hot and a robe would have been stifling. My head was buried in a towel while I dried my hair.
I heard the rustle of fabric, and not that of my towel, and froze. I looked up and Patrick was standing in the doorway, staring at me. All of me. I quickly wrapped the towel around my body, wishing it were quite a bit bigger.
“Dammit, Patrick, can’t you knock or call or something before you just show up?”
He didn’t respond, just looked at me like my towel wasn’t even there.
I walked toward the dresser to get clothes, ignoring him. I was digging through a drawer, picking out underwear when I felt his hand on my shoulder. I turned to him, throwing my hair out of my face.
“Why exactly are you here, Patrick?” My heart was beating hard and fast. I could feel the throb in my neck and temple. I didn’t want to like his hand on my bare skin, but my body was ignoring my brain.
His green eyes narrowed on me and he tangled his fingers through my wet hair. I was beginning to freak out even more, because he stepped closer and pulled my hair so my head tilted back. It was almost painful. I clutched my towel closer to my chest and swallowed. I knew what that look meant and, after my session with the e-reader in the tub, I felt that look in my hooha.
“I came to see you,” he said. He smiled a little, but his eyes stayed hot. “And I got to see quite a bit of you.”
I wanted to roll my eyes and make some smart ass remark, but my tongue wouldn’t work. He was looking at me like he was planning to eat me alive. I’d never seen Patrick display strong emotions. Even when we were constantly trading verbal barbs and engaging in a battle of wits, he’d been good natured and laid back. Patrick smiled readily and easily and I liked that he laughed often. Even when he was dealing with his ex, he remained calm and in control.
Now, his face and eyes were intense and he looked determined. I opened my mouth, frantically trying to think of some way to get him to back off, but he stopped me by tracing my lips with a fingertip. Well, to be honest, he didn’t have to try very hard to stop me. I felt that touch all the way from my hooha to my scalp and goosebumps broke out all over my body.
Holy moly, I changed my mind. My hormones were now in charge, brain cells be damned. If he tried to leave now, I was going to chase him down and tackle him in the hallway. If one small touch to my mouth made me feel like that, I wanted to see what his hands could make the rest of me feel like. I inched closer and his hand tightened in my hair, pulling me up to my toes. I watched his face come closer to mine, my breath catching. I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to, as I met his eyes. When his lips touched mine, my eyelids drifted shut. I would have been blind, even with them open, because all I could think or feel was his kiss. Patrick tried to keep it light. I could feel him holding back and, being a perverse person, I wanted to push him. Just like when we bickered, I constantly pushed the boundaries of outrageousness, looking for his limits.
I tried to do the same thing with the kiss. It backfired. When I licked my way into his mouth and then started nipping him with my teeth, I was suddenly flying through the air. I landed on the bed with a bounce, barely realizing that he had kept a grip on my towel to rip it off my body, and then he was on me. His hands and mouth were rougher, like he was fighting not to lose control, and I freaking loved it.
I yanked his shirt up to his armpits, and he reached over his head, grasped the fabric between his shoulder blades, and tore it over his head. I ran my hands down his sides, pressing my chest and belly against him. The sensation of his bare skin against mine was incredible, especially since my body was still a little damp from my bath and chilled. He was so much warmer than me, it felt like he was about to burst into flames.
When I started working on his belt and the front of his pants, Patrick’s hands brushed mine away. He stood up next to the bed, kicking of his boots, and shoving his pants and boxer briefs down his legs. I sat up and ran my palms over his chest and abdomen. When I sank my teeth into his pectoral, he swore and shoved me down onto the bed. His hands were everywhere, starting with
my breasts, then down between my legs. His fingers ran over my clit, making me gasp and arch my back. Then he pushed them slowly inside me. Any coherent thoughts I had flew out of my head. I used my lips and teeth where his neck met his shoulder and pressed into his hand.
He pulled away, and I made an unhappy sound and panted a little. When his mouth made its way to my nipples, I arched my back and my unhappy sounds became very, very happy. As his lips moved lower, all the muscles in my lower abdomen clenched. Firm hands pressed my thighs further apart and his mouth reached its target. Patrick’s tongue was firm on its first pass over my clit and my hips jerked when he slid two fingers inside me again. The sudden onslaught of sensation was a shock and I felt it all the way to my toes.
The tension in my lower belly grew as his mouth and hand worked me hard. He wasn’t rough, but he also wasn’t gentle. Everything he was doing was confident and purposeful. Patrick was pushing me toward orgasm like it was his sole focus. I shifted restlessly under his hands, and he stopped using his fingers to fuck me and gripped my hips, holding my ass down to the bed. The sensations were so intense that the noises I made actually hurt my throat.
As the orgasm rushed over me, the intensity of what he was doing to my clit almost burned, in a very, very good way. As the tremors began to subside, his mouth gentled on me, and he lapped lightly at me, causing me to shiver every few seconds. When I finally calmed, and started to pull away a little, Patrick worked his way up my torso. His mouth reached mine as he palmed himself and pressed the head of his dick against my opening. I was so wet he slid over halfway inside me before I tensed a little. It had been a few months for me and my body resisted. He eased out a little before he pressed forward again, and my body gave way a bit more.
When he was finally and completely inside me, I moaned. The fit was snug, but not painful, but he waited a few seconds for my muscles to relax around him. Then, Patrick started to move, steady and deep. I cradled his hips against mine and wrapped my upper body around him as completely as possible. He thrust against me harder, grinding his hips into mine. It was rough but so very hot. His green eyes didn’t leave mine. The look in them caused my entire body to tingle.
I grabbed his hair and yanked his lips to mine. My breath came out in whimpers and Patrick ripped his mouth away.
“Dammit, Cat. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I nipped his bottom lip. “No. Don’t stop.” My tongue swiped the bite. “Better yet, harder.”
I was so turned on I was incapable of complete sentences. Patrick shoved my knees higher and hooked up my legs over his arms. He went deeper and changed the angle of his hips. I moaned. Patrick had completely taken control. All I could do was hold on and enjoy the ride.
My hands gripped his upper arms, nails digging into his skin. I was going to come and come hard. Back arching, I let it wash over me. My vision greyed out and I knew I’d never had a more powerful orgasm in my life. I whispered his name when my muscles became lax and my eyes drifted open to see him in the throes of his climax. His face was tight and his eyes burned.
He pressed deep and stayed there. Our breathing was still labored. I slid my hands down his back, relishing the feel of his skin under my palms. His lips pressed against mine and his tongue thrust into my mouth. This kiss felt different from the frantic coupling we’d just experienced. He was making love to my mouth and it was intoxicating. I was vulnerable after the intense orgasms I’d experienced and I responded without thinking.
When Patrick lifted his head, I realized that kiss had destroyed part of the wall I’d erected around me. My chest tightened with what had to be panic. After all the delicious things he’d just done to my body, it was a single kiss that brought my defenses crashing down. Patrick gave me one more quick kiss, then pulled away. Thank God, I’d use the time it took to clean up to figure out how to distance myself.
Shit, I had to clean up. We hadn’t used a rubber. Now I was really beginning to freak. I wasn’t on the pill. The timing wouldn’t be right for me to get pregnant, but that’s what a lot of women thought. Still, there were worse things to catch than an embryo and I wasn’t sure about Patrick’s history with women. Well, I was pretty sure the history of his sex life would fill a couple volumes. Shit, damn, fucking hell.
I shoved Patrick’s shoulders. “Shit, we didn’t use a condom, Patrick.”
He let me shove him off and I scrambled out of the bed. Quickly, I went to the bathroom, wet a washcloth, and cleaned myself up. I grabbed my robe off the back of the bathroom door and shrugged into it before I went back into the bedroom. Patrick was still sprawled naked on the bed. Oh my, he made my girlie parts feel extra special. His light brown hair was mussed, sticking up wildly from my fingers running through it. The rest of him was golden skin and firm muscle. I gripped the sash of my robe so tightly my fingers went numb. I really wanted to go back to the bed and jump him.
Patrick raised an eyebrow when he saw me hiding behind my robe. Yes, I knew it was cowardly, but now that I knew what he could do to my body, I needed to be very careful here. I was way too close to being in over my head.
For a man who had just had sex without a condom, he seemed pretty relaxed. I, on the other hand, was freaking out. Not only was I losing my shit over irresponsible sex, I’d just had years’ worth of wall-building torn down with a single kiss.
“Patrick, I’m not on the fucking pill.” I yanked my hair in frustration. “Dammit, how could we be so careless?”
Patrick sat up and propped a couple of pillows behind his back. “Heat of the moment. We’ll definitely use protection next time.”
I gawked at him. Any other man would have been scooting out the door so fast they would leave a trail of fire behind them. Hell, I wanted to be scooting out the door, but I was standing in the only home I had right now.
“Patrick, there won’t be a next time. There can’t be a next time. You’re Aidan’s brother and I’m Nat’s best friend. We start screwing around and then decide we can’t stand each other, it would be a huge problem. Besides, you are really not my type. I never date guys like you.”
While I was talking, Patrick stood up in all his naked glory. My brain cells started disappearing as he got closer to me. By the time I finished my mini tirade, he was standing right in front of me, glowering. Even though we were both barefoot, he dwarfed me. I stopped talking and stared up at him. His naked body was extremely distracting, as was the thunderous expression on his face.
“Okay, Cat, so you’re telling me that I’m not your type, but you’ll fuck me anyway?”
I swallowed. That wasn’t what I had meant, but I could see how he might think that. “No, Patrick. It means this was a mistake, one that can’t happen again. I really don’t want to get tangled up with you, for a variety of reasons, only one of which is that you aren’t really the kind of man I usually spend time with.”
He grinned then, throwing me off balance. “Maybe you need to spend time with a different kind of man. I’ve noticed you seem to go through them like water.”
It was my turn to frown and I growled at him. His grin only became wider. “You make it sound as though I screwing my way through the phonebook. I prefer not to get tangled up with men. It gets too messy. You’re the kind of guy who plays the game until you’ve had enough or you realize she’s the best you’re gonna be able to do and you settle down. Neither of those options appeals to me, so I prefer not to start anything.”
He stopped smiling then. “Don’t act like you know what I’m thinking, Cat. You can’t measure me against whatever yardstick some asshole in your past created. I’m different from the men in your past, just like you’re different from the women in mine.” He grabbed the belt of my robe, wrapping the loose end around his hand to reel me in. “As for us having sex again, it will happen and it will happen often.”
I shook my head. “Patrick, you have to know this is a really bad idea. This idea ranks right above drinking six shots of tequila and trying to ride a unicycle and both end the same
way; one of us is a drunken puddle somewhere on the ground after we fall off.”
He shook his head, too, but not in a negative way. It was more like he found me entertaining. “I guess I need to convince you then.”
When he spoke, I realized he was opening my robe. I hadn’t even felt him unknot the belt. I grabbed the edges of the robe and kept them close together. Patrick’s hands skated across my belly under the terry cloth and drifted to my sides and down my hips. I tried to make myself pull away, but my body told my brain to shut up because this felt nice.
When his hands drifted up, I let them nudge my hands away from the lapels of my robe. He shoved the fabric off my shoulders and down my arms until it dropped to the floor around my feet. I stood naked in front of him, in more ways than one. Patrick ran a palm down my chest to my waist and pulled me against him. His other hand brushed my hair back, gathering it at the base of my neck, and tugging until my head was tilted back and my face turned up to him.
“This time, we go slow,” he said.
Then he kissed me and I forgot all about the fact that he wasn’t my type. Within seconds, all I could think about was pleasure and looking forward to more orgasms like the two he’d given me earlier. And he did go slow. Deliciously, maddeningly slow, until I begged him. Definitely not my proudest moment, though it felt damn good.
I jolted awake, every nerve in my body on red alert. I was disoriented for a second, then realized I’d been having a nightmare. I blew out a relieved breath. The dream had been a doozy. My muscles had just started to relax when I felt a big, hot body press against my back. As a calloused hand ran up my outer thigh, I stiffened. It wasn’t until I heard Patrick’s voice that I remembered what had happened earlier.
“Shhh, Cat. It’s okay. It was just a dream.” His hand continued to leisurely stroke my leg.
If possible, my body tightened even more. I tried to roll away, but his hand shifted up to my hip and held firm. I growled under my breath and was pretty sure I heard the jackass chuckle. Patrick used his grip on my hip to roll me onto my back and he propped himself up on an elbow to look down at me. The rat was smiling.
