Sex & Pancakes

by Kelli Evans

  “I agree, it did, before her ex showed up.”

  Roz uttered a sympathetic groan. “Well, maybe this chicken soup will get you some sex.”

  Hannah tossed a carrot at her, her face flushing again. “Just don’t leave me hanging for so long after. I want details, dammit!”

  Roz laughed. “Same goes for you!”

  Chapter 8

  Patrick

  RUSH played in the background as Patrick tried to keep up on the drums. His phone buzzed.

  He sat his sticks down, unlocked his phone, and opened the text.

  It’s Roz. What are you doing?

  Something went flip in his stomach. His face pulled up in a wide smile as he exited the music app.

  He sent, Getting ready to fix something to eat. You hungry?

  Roz, Send your address. I’ll bring homemade empanadas.

  “Oh yeah, she wants me.”

  Patrick, 323 Grove Street. I’m on the drums so when you get here just let yourself in.

  Patrick turned on his music again and went back to it but stopped to sniff his pits. He got up and put on some deodorant. He sat back down and played a bit more before he got up and changed out of the ten-year-old shirt he was currently in.

  He stopped in the bathroom on the way out of his room and brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and then tousled it so it didn’t look so combed. He picked up the mail from the coffee table and tucked it into the sorter on the wall by the door. He moved his work bag into the coat closet.

  Patrick saw her headlights pull into the drive and he shut off the music on his phone and started in on the most impressive drum solo of his life. But she was taking forever to come in out of the car and his arms were getting sore. He drummed all the time just not quite this ferociously or for so long.

  Finally, he heard the creak in the door and he went for an impressive finale. A slow clap started when he finished, and he looked up at the blonde standing in his living room. “Very nice,” she said.

  “What the—” Patrick nearly shrieked. “Nope. Nope. No.” He jumped up, stuffing his sticks into his back pocket. “Out you go.”

  “But I just got here.” Bianca looked at him as if he’d transformed into a werewolf in front of her very eyes—shocked and a little horrified.

  “And now you’re leaving.” Patrick pushed his sister’s large frame to the door.

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.” Bianca put her foot down.

  Patrick got behind her and pushed her toward the door. “Time to go.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” She turned around to grapple with him.

  “Nothing. I just need you out of here.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No, I love you. I just need you to go home immediately.”

  She actually socked him in the ribs a few times.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Roz’s voice called from the doorway.

  Patrick froze. Bianca punched him in the ribs one more time. Patrick groaned and clutched his side.

  Good God, she could fill out a pair of jeans. Obviously, she’d been thinking about him. Even if this was just a booty call, she’d thought about him enough to send him that text.

  “Uh, Roz, meet Bianca. Bianca…was just leaving.”

  “Oh…” Bianca said as if she finally understood what was going on. “Yeah, I guess I was leaving, even though I’d just gotten here.” Bianca’s sarcasm oozed off her but at least she walked herself to the door. “Goodnight. Love you. See you tomorrow?”

  “Night.” Patrick waved her off.

  “It was lovely meeting you—” He shut the door behind her and then locked it.

  “It’s like that, huh?” Roz asked, moving into the dining room and setting a plastic bag on the table.

  “Like what?” He followed after her.

  She twirled her finger in the air. “Revolving door of women? Do you make it a habit to physically assault them all?” But she was already shrugging out of her jacket. Those could not be actual concerns of hers.

  “Let the record show, I was actually the one being physically assaulted.”

  “So…? An ex?” Roz crossed her arms over her chest. Her V-neck T-shirt hinted at the cleavage below.

  Patrick smirked to himself. Was that a hint of jealousy in her tone? “My sister.”

  Roz’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “She went to school with us? I don’t remember her.”

  Patrick opened the bag on the table to find it full of individually tinfoiled ovals of what he presumed were empanadas. “You don’t remember me either.”

  Roz rolled her eyes, reached in, and handed him an empanada. Patrick unwrapped it and then took a bite. He moaned at the burst of flavor that hit his tongue.

  “I know. So good. I ate already but…” Roz pulled one out for herself, shrugged a little as she opened it.

  “Do you remember Tom Roman?”

  Roz nodded and took a bite. “Football, right?” she asked around a cheek full of beef, chilies, and sweet dough.

  “Yeah.”

  “I think I had Chemistry with him.”

  “You had Chemistry with me.” Patrick winked.

  “Oh. Biology then?” She shrugged. “Him, I remember.”

  “Well, Tom was my brother. She is now my sister, Bianca. Who you just saw leave here.”

  Roz didn’t say anything, and her face gave nothing away. Patrick held his breath waiting for some kind of reaction. She lifted a shoulder in a very casual shrug. “She’s got a great hook. I saw her get you in the ribs.”

  As crazy as it sounded, correct pronouns were enough to warm his heart. But he was happy to change the subject entirely. He didn’t need to be thinking about his sister tonight. “Did you make these?” Patrick reached for another.

  Roz ignored his question. “You kicked her out.”

  “You’re very astute.”

  Roz sighed and balled up her empty tinfoil and then tossed it aside on the table. “I meant, why?”

  “Did you come over to hang out with my sister? Want me to call her back? We can all eat empanadas and binge watch TV.” Patrick sat his tinfoil aside and moved into Roz’s space, a smile tugged at his lips. “Why do think?”

  Roz cleared her throat. “You want a repeat?”

  Yes! He invaded her space, completely getting off on the way her pupils dilated. “Don’t you?”

  “Last time…how was it for you?”

  A surprised laugh escaped from his chest. He hadn’t meant to laugh at her, and when she went to walk away, the laughter completely died on his lips. “Wait.” He caught her by the arm, and she brushed him off.

  He tried putting his hands on her arms once more. She gave him a death glare, but she didn’t shake him off this time. Her skin was so soft he had to caress it. He toyed with her shirt sleeve. He slid his fingers up past the material. “I’m not laughing at you.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “I came a thousand times that night. Didn’t I? At least.” It was an obvious exaggeration. “I had a great time. The best time.”

  “Ever?” she asked, and he couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

  Fuck it. He’d play it straight with her. “Pretty much. Didn’t you?”

  She nibbled the inside of her lip. Patrick’s hands had been all over her arms at that point, and he felt bolder. He reached up and played with her curls. “I came to test a hypothesis.”

  Holy hell, this girl! A science experiment? He was going to have a nerdgasm. “What’s your hypothesis?”

  She reached out and tugged on the bottom of his shirt. A wave of goosebumps rose all over him. Her hand slipped up inside it, firm and warm against his belly. His dick twitched. “My hypothesis is that it was a fluke. There’s no way it can be like that a second time.” He wasn’t sure how she was counting. They’d done it a second time, and a third, and…Her fingernails trailed gently up his ches
t, scoring over a nipple.

  “I think we should definitely start collecting data to prove this hypothesis wrong.” He settled his hand on her hip. He squeezed her meat there. “You going to let me be the control group?”

  A sexy smile split her face. He liked the contour of her teeth, her full soft lips, and that it was aimed at him at all. “I don’t think that means what you think it does.”

  “Whatever, that’s fine. You can be in control. Just…come here.” He tugged at her hips, urging her closer still. She wrapped her arms around his back, hands still inside his shirt, and pressed her body flush against him. He didn’t give a shit about scientific terms anymore.

  Chapter 9

  Roz

  PATRICK’S skin was hot under her hands. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. He let out an animalistic growl and wrapped his arms around her, picking her up and setting her on the dining table.

  Roz wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled his shirt up over his head. She let out an audible sigh at the sight of his tattooed arms. She couldn’t wait to explore those more. Spotting the love bruise on his chest that she had given him last time, she leaned forward and kissed it gently.

  He growled again, snagging her lips back up to his, his fingers tangled in her long curls. She couldn’t stop running her hands over his broad shoulders and down his arms. She wanted to feel all of him.

  She reached for the button on his jeans. She needed to get him naked. He pulled back and looked at her for a beat. His hands were still tangled in her hair, his chest heaving and his green eyes bright with desire, for her.

  “Now who’s overdressed?” he teased, letting out a throaty laugh. She slid her hands into the waistband of his jeans and pushed them to the ground. His drumsticks clattered to the hard wood floor.

  “Then undress me.”

  Patrick wasted zero time in pushing up her T-shirt and peeling it over her head. She leaned back on her arms and let him take her all in. He let out another groan and leaned down, capturing a nipple through the red lace of her bra.

  Roz let herself fall back flat on the table. The wood was cool against her heated flesh. His lips moved over her stomach, nipping and kissing her soft flesh. He undid her jeans, urging her to lift her hips so he could slide them off. He stood for a second, looking down at her. She had never felt so sexy.

  Patrick dropped to his knees in front of her. “So.” He kissed her inner thigh. “Fucking.” A nip of his teeth farther up. “Beautiful.” He placed his mouth right over her lacy underwear, letting out a hum that vibrated through her whole body. Her hands went to his hair, and she pressed his face even closer against her. He dug his fingers into her hips as he scooted her closer to the edge of the table, her legs hanging over his shoulders.

  He moved her panties to the side, spread her lips apart with his fingers, and flattened his tongue against her. “Fuck,” she bit out, and her hips bucked up against his face as she tugged on his hair. My God, his mouth really was fantastic. She hadn’t been just dreaming that. He swirled his tongue, he nipped, he soothed, he licked, he sucked, it was all so much for Roz.

  “Fuck, Patrick.” She found her nipple through her bra and pinched it firmly, her other hand holding his face prisoner between her legs. He slipped a finger inside her, curling it just so. “Yes!” She looked down her body at his head buried between her thighs. He looked up at her, and as soon as their gazes met, she was a goner. Her orgasm swept over her, goosebumps popping up on her heated flesh and stars dancing in her eyes.

  She kept her gaze on him the whole time. He stared right back never slowing down on his sweet torture. He added another finger, moving them rapidly in and out of her soaking wet pussy. She was practically panting at that point. “I’m going to come again.” She barely got the sentence out before her orgasm washed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut because eye contact with him was just too much right now.

  Roz felt him move, her legs dropping back down to the floor. She opened her eyes to see him rolling on a condom. Her legs felt like Jell-O and she still hadn’t quite caught her breath. This was so much better sober. She almost couldn’t believe it was really happening.

  Patrick picked up her legs again, positioning them around his hips. “Sorry, you’re not going to be on top this time.” He grinned sexily. She had no plans on fighting him. He probably could have done whatever he wanted to her at that point. He lined himself up, and in one swift move, buried himself deep.

  “Miérda!” Her hips bucked off the table and met his deep thrust. He leaned over her, his big arms on either side of her head. She dug her nails into his tattooed biceps, holding on for dear life as he pounded into her. His dick was so wide it rubbed all her walls. It was incredible. He was incredible.

  “God, Roz, you feel amazing,” he breathed, leaning down and capturing her mouth.

  She met him feverishly, feeling as if she couldn’t get enough. It built inside her again. She squeezed her thighs around his hips, put her feet on his ass, and pulled him in even deeper.

  The table squeaked and scooted back a bit with every thrust from his hips. He reached between their bodies and gave her clit a little flick. She wasn’t sure she could hold on much longer. She closed her eyes and pressed her head back against the wood.

  He straightened and gripped her thighs tight just driving into her. She was sure she would have bruises from his fingers later.

  “Patrick…Dios mia!” she cried, bucking her hips up off the table to meet his thrusts. She opened her eyes to drink him all in again. He glistened with sweat, breathed heavy, and looked right at her. Why did she feel so exposed? Since when did eye contact have that much of an effect on her?

  Patrick gave her a slow smile, sending her a wink. She came in a burst of white light, her pussy tightening around his cock, but he never even slowed his tempo. She grappled for something to grab on to, and she found her heavy breasts, still in her red lace bra. Pinching her nipples, she rode out one of the best orgasms of her life, all while still maintaining eye contact with the gorgeous man above her. What are you doing to me? She had to look away. It was so intense, her chest tightened and she wasn’t sure she liked what that meant.

  Chapter 10

  Patrick

  “STAND up.” Patrick helped her off the table, and when her feet touched the floor, he guided her toward the fridge. He lifted her hands over her head and placed them on the top of the freezer door, running his down her smooth, toned arms and then pressed her against the unit entirely.

  She gasped. “Cold.” She let out a small laugh. Patrick really liked the sound of it. It was softer than expected, like so many other parts of Roz.

  Patrick rounded his hands to the front of her, skimming his fingers over her lace bra, feeling her nipple hard and pebbled against his palms. He groaned, needing to be inside her again.

  He grasped her underwear and paused to stare at how fucking perfect her ass looked in them before tugging the lacy red fabric down her thighs. She kicked out of them.

  Patrick nudged his foot between hers and spread her legs apart. Roz gasped again and let out a laugh. “Been watching some police procedurals?”

  “I do have this handcuff fantasy.”

  “That explains your interest in me.” Roz chuckled and wiggled back against him.

  “Not really.” He smoothed his hand over her perfect round cheek and then squeezed until he got a peek between them. This was hot. He ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, agonizingly slow until she angled her hips in invitation. “I had an interest in you long before you were a cop.”

  He cupped her hot sex, toying with her lips and clit with feather-light touches of his fingertips. She said something in Spanish that was certainly a swear and then said his name again. “Patrick.”

  His balls pulled tight in response. He gritted his teeth and filled her pussy with three fingers, spinning them, in an effort to tantalize all her walls.

  “Fuck me,” sh
e begged, earnestly, over her shoulder.

  He pulled out his fingers and grabbed her hips. He kissed along her shoulder and neck, and then along the cartilage ridge of her ear. He lined the head of his cock up with the entrance to her pussy and pulled her back against him, impaling her sharply.

  Roz panted. “I love how thick your dick is.”

  Patrick beamed hearing that. He fucked her a little harder. The sounds their bodies made drove him wild with lust. “Hear how wet we are?”

  “Oh, my God!” Roz granted him a breathy laugh, sounding surprised and maybe even a little embarrassed.

  “It’s so hot. So sexy.” He slid his hand down her stomach and rubbed her clit. Seriously, so wet. His fingers were drenched. He moved her hair out of the way and nipped the nape of her neck.

  “Harder,” she begged.

  Patrick pulled out of her, and Roz verbalized her disapproval. He led her into the living room. The sound of the cymbal he bumped on the way by filled the air with tinny noise.

  Patrick tugged Roz into him. He kissed her mouth hungrily, which only made him hungrier for her. Nothing seemed to quench this need—this urgency. His hands were desperate to be everywhere, her face, her hair, her breasts, her pussy…

  Patrick lifted to perch her on the edge of the overstuffed armchair. He reached around, and smooth as butter, squeezed her bra and the clasps came open. He pulled out of the kiss to watch her breasts fall free. Such great tits. So hot.

  He cupped the back of her head so she stayed nice and close to his mouth. He spread her thighs, running his hand up them and insinuating his fingers into her pussy again.

  “Every part of you is perfect,” he told her and curled his fingers to stroke her G-spot. He wanted to kiss her some more but watching her enjoy what he was doing to her did something to him. “I want you to come again,” he whispered against her lips. He jerked his hand, his palm bumping her clit, his fingers pumping at her G-spot.

  “Make me then.” Her voice was thick with lust, and it shook in time with the thrust of his fingers. He gave it all he had, his fingers getting stiff, and a sweat had broken out on his brow. She was growing tighter and tighter, making his ministrations more and more difficult. Harder, faster, harder, faster until finally…“Oh. Oh. Holy shit.” Roz clutched his shoulders. Her legs shook frantically. The muscles in his arms burned but he didn’t let up, not even when her pussy tightened like a silk vice.