by Kelli Evans
He heard the change in the sound of his fingers fucking her. Wetter. Wetter. Wetter. Then his hand was soaked and his forearm, the armchair beneath her, and Holy Mother of God, Roz was coming.
Patrick was stunned at how simultaneously hot and absolutely gorgeous that was.
Her body jerked for a few moments afterward and it took several deep breaths before she opened her eyes again. She clutched the back of his head and sighed against his cheek. “Patrick,” she panted and kissed him gently. “Oh, Patrick,” she said again in a tone that felt like reverence. She cupped his face and stared into his eyes. He wished like hell he could read her thoughts.
That was so hot. His belly was blazing and tight with need. He wanted to open his mouth and tell her how turned-on he was. How sexy she was. How giving, responsive, and awesome she was. But he didn’t because the way she looked at him fried his nerves.
She urged him closer. Patrick curled his arm around her back and came to stand more fully between her thighs. She splayed her hands in his hair. She stroked his beard, her fingers delved through his chest hair, but her gaze was on him, and unlike before, completely unguarded.
He couldn’t wait another second to be inside this woman again. He grasped her hips, and gentler this time, he eased himself back inside her.
“Yes,” Roz whispered, wrapping her legs around him and locking her ankles.
Chapter 11
Roz
PATRICK’S eyes were hot and intense on hers. She couldn’t stop running her hands down his sides and back and everywhere she could reach. His arm around her held her tight against him. Her nipples brushed against his chest hair. One of his hands danced along her neck, which he cupped, bringing their foreheads together. Goosebumps popped up on her heated flesh, causing her to shiver.
Their breaths mingled as he slowly moved his hips in and out of her. She felt every inch of him. She was so wet and turned-on, it was surreal. She felt as if she couldn’t get enough of him. He was all around her, inside her, and still she wanted more, wanted to be closer. She captured his lips with hers, needing to feel more of him.
“Sweet Roz,” he whispered. He cupped the back of her head. “So sweet.” Her heart squeezed and her stomach clenched. The butterflies took flight again. She gripped his back, tightening her legs around his hips, allowing him to only make short, shallow, slow thrusts.
With every move of his hips, he simultaneously rubbed against her clit and G-spot. “Oh, Patrick.” She moved her lips and placed a soft kiss behind his ear. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tight, her face buried in the crook of his neck. She deeply inhaled his scent, her eyes screwed tightly shut.
“You feel amazing, Roz…so tight…so perfect.” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth and gave it a little nip. His words had an effect on her, body and soul, and she slipped under his control.
Patrick’s arms were wrapped nearly all the way around her as they held on to each other and moved as one. She closed in on another orgasm as he continued to slowly grind against her. Never in her life had she felt like this. Her whole body was alive and tingling. Every nerve ending was on fire.
“Look at me,” he rasped out, and she pulled back and locked gazes with him. “You are so beautiful.” Her heart squeezed and her pussy throbbed. He looked at her as if he could see right into her. She stared right back, wanting him to see all of her, all she had to give.
“Please,” she begged, her toes curling and her heart racing.
“What do you need, babe?” He snaked a hand between their bodies and found her clit. She gasped and arched her hips up to meet his, and he stroked her faster as he ground into her deeper.
“Patrick…oh, Patrick” Her whole body shook as she came all around him. Her pussy squeezed his cock tight. Her vision blurred and her mind went blank as her entire world shifted. She kept repeating his name as if it were her holy mantra. He was the only thing that kept her grounded. She never lost sight of him in the fog.
“Oh, Roz…” He held her as she shook, and she loosened her legs from around his waist, allowing him to move more freely. He moved his hips faster and more aggressively. She dug her nails into his back, her teeth finding the soft spot between his neck and shoulder. His muscles strained, and they were both sheened in sweat.
“I love the way you feel inside me,” she breathed, kissing up his neck. “You know just what I like.” He groaned, moving his hips faster. “You feel good, you look good, and you taste good.” She grabbed the back of his head and brought their mouths together, nibbling and sucking his full lips. She met him thrust for thrust; the sound of their bodies connecting filled the air. She didn’t think she had ever been more turned-on.
“Roz!” he groaned, his hips jerking against hers and his dick twitching as he came inside her. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, panting. She stroked his hair and down his back as they floated back to earth.
Patrick let out a small laugh against her neck, which sent a shiver down her spine. Her pussy tightened involuntarily around his dick. It twitched inside her again. “That was incredible.” He pulled back, smiling wide. Her heart melted.
“It wasn’t bad,” she teased, leaning up and kissing the tip of his nose. He growled and wrapped his arms tighter around her.
“You drive me crazy.” He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead and dragged a finger down her cheek. She briefly closed her eyes, leaning into the palm of his hand.
“Is that a good thing?”
“Hell yes.” He smirked, leaning down and kissing her gently. He was being so tender with her, with soft touches and lingering strokes along her back. She felt comfortably sedated and adored. “I would like to show you my bedroom at some point.” He laughed again and she loved the sound. She wanted to hear more of it, wanted to soak it all in.
“I did show you mine, so it’s only fair.” She ran her nails down his arms. She circled around a tattoo of a constellation he had on his right arm, near the crook of his elbow.
They let out a sigh when he gripped her hips and pulled slowly out of her. She let her sore legs hit the floor as she steadied herself against the armchair.
He held a hand out to her. “Right this way, m’lady.” She giggled and took his hand. God, he was so cute. Could this night get any better? She was more than ready to find out.
Chapter 12
Patrick
PATRICK showed Roz his bedroom before slipping into the bathroom for a quick minute. He discarded the condom and then washed himself up some. When he opened the door, Roz was standing there.
“I need to use the restroom.”
“Oh, sure. Yeah.” Patrick squeezed past her and into his bedroom. He pulled on a loose pair of sweats and then headed down the hall. He put the empanadas into the fridge before he grabbed them each a glass of water. After walking back into his room, he settled onto the bed and rested his head against the headboard.
He closed his eyes and vivid images of Roz in various stages of pleasure flickered over the backs of his eyelids. He could almost still hear the way she’d moaned his name.
The bathroom door creaked open. He heard Roz pad down the hallway, then back toward his bedroom. She appeared in the doorway, wearing his discarded shirt. “Looks better on you.”
“It smells like you.”
He patted the bed next to him and pointed to the glass of water sitting on the nightstand closest to her. “I got you a glass.”
“Oh, thanks.” She climbed in and snuggled against him. Patrick took a sip of water, and Roz gulped hers down. “You keep a clean house. You make your bed even.”
Patrick laughed. “Yeah, your place…”
She leveled her gaze at him. Watch it.
He took another sip of water. “You are an eccentric decorator.”
“What’s that even mean?” Roz laughed. “Says the guy with a Yoda poster framed and hung in his room.” She pointed to said Yoda poster.
“It’s Yoda,�
� Patrick explained reasonably. “You decorate with a delightful sprinkling of laundry and empty water bottles.”
“How could you possibly have seen my mess when I met you at the door in my underwear?”
Patrick grinned widely. “Yeah, that was hot.”
Roz clinked her glass against his. “Yes, it was.”
“We’re, uh…pretty hot together.”
Roz made an agreeable humming noise.
“So, your hypothesis…?”
Roz shot him some side-eye that quickly melted into one of her adorable grins. “Obliterated.”
“That good, huh?”
Roz covered her face. “You know. You were there.” Patrick lowered her hand so he could see her. God, this freshly sexed, uncharacteristically shy Roz ate a hole through him. “If you meant the things you said, I think it was probably good for you too.”
“It was.” Patrick changed his mind. “Is.” Because sitting there flirting with her was good too.
“And…did you? Mean what you said?”
He couldn’t think of even a single exaggeration right now. “Is there something in particular you’re wondering about?”
“You said something about being interested before I was a cop.” She brushed her wild curls from her face.
“Oh. That. I mean, it’s not like I’ve just been pining over here, waiting. But yeah, you’ve always done it for me.”
“And you do keep saying I have the perfect body. I must be your type, huh?”
“Because you abso-fucking-lutely do.”
“I like it, but not everybody digs fierce tall girls with rocking curves.” She grinned in a self-deprecating way and he hated it.
“First of all, those people are wrong. Second of all, it wasn’t just about your body.”
Roz reached over him and sat her glass next to his. She straddled him. “What else could you have possibly known about me in high school?”
Patrick drew small circles on her thigh with his fingers, debating just how much of it to divulge. He met her warm brown-eyed gaze, and said, “I know on the DL you brought an extra lunch to school every day for Juliette James because her dad had lost his job and things were tight for them.
“I know you listened to eighties hair bands because I used to park two spots down from your car and spotted a Cinderella CD on your dash once, and you used to wear that faded black Van Halen shirt that clung to you like a second skin.
“I know you loved current events, red licorice, and only went to one school dance all of high school. Senior prom. You showed up in this short black dress, looking like rock star royalty.”
Roz leaned back, her dark eyes had grown assessing again. “Okay, cool, so you’re saying you stalked me?”
It surprised a laugh out him. He grabbed her hips just in case she got cagey. “I couldn’t avoid you. You were everywhere. I just noticed you, is all.”
Roz ground her hips against his growing erection. Patrick smirked and roped her hair around his hand, guiding her mouth to his.
“I see you now.”
“Do you?” Patrick murmured against her kiss.
Roz made a noise that was half yes, half laugh. “Oh yeah.” She wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked. “I do.”
* * * *
Patrick was aware of the warm, lush body pressed against him. Every inhale carried her scent. She was awake. Her breathing wasn’t that deep-sleep breathing anymore. She didn’t feel relaxed and easy beside him. She carefully lifted his big arm and slipped out of bed.
“You’re always skipping out before the pancakes,” Patrick said into his pillow. His eyes were closed, slumber still coiled around his senses, not quite ready to come back to the waking world.
Roz was there waiting, maybe? Maybe that didn’t make as much sense to her as it had to him. He lifted himself on one forearm. Patrick blinked and tried to find her form in the darkness. “Where are you going?”
“Work. The things you put up with when you have a handcuff fantasy, right?” Her laugh was tight.
“Stay.” He hated himself a little for asking, for being so transparent, for being the one getting left in bed.
There was a hesitancy in her voice that alarmed him. “I can’t.”
Finally, his eyes adjusted enough to make out her naked shape heading for the hallway. “Are you bailing?”
“No. I have to work.” Impatience laced her words.
His heart beat extra hard, anxiety settling in his dropping stomach. “Have dinner with me?”
“Patrick…I can’t do this right now. I’ve really got to go. I’m sorry.” She headed down the hallway.
He pulled himself out of bed and then down the dark corridor. He picked up her underwear from the floor in the kitchen, while she hunted down the rest of it, putting on each piece as she found it. He handed her panties to her.
“I’ll text you,” she said, pulling her jeans back up over her hips, zipping them.
Patrick reached for her, stilling her for just a moment. “It better say yes.”
“Yes?” Roz skirted past him again.
“Dinner,” he reminded her.
“Dinner, like a date?” Roz asked, scooping her hair out from beneath her jacket.
“Exactly, like a date.” He opened the front door, and with a pensive expression, Roz left his house before the crack of dawn.
Chapter 13
Roz
ROZ walked into her parents’ house a few days later, kicking off her shoes and then dropping her jacket onto the chair by the door. Her dad, Eugene, was in his favorite recliner, wearing his standard attire of tighty-whities and a T-shirt. Her cousin, Mario, and cousin-in-law, Nico, sat on the couch, drinking beer and watching some baseball game on TV.
“Hey, Papí.” She bent down and kissed the top of his balding salt-and-pepper, curly hair.
“Rozalyn, how are you?” His eyes beamed at her from behind his wire-framed lenses. She loved her dad. He had always been her biggest fan. In his eyes, she could do no wrong. He was the best cheerleader a girl could have.
“I’m all right.” She patted his shoulder. “Hey, Rio, Nic.” She nodded at each of them respectively.
“Another late night?” Mario asked. The three of them worked together at the police department, except these two were officers who had taken off a couple of hours ago. Roz was still wrapped up in a robbery case. There had been another break-in just two nights ago. It kept the fire burning under her to get this solved.
“No, this is about the normal time. If anything, I think you guys skipped out early,” she teased, reaching over and socking Nico, who was the closest, in the arm.
“Hey!” he whined, rubbing his arm.
“Knock it off you two,” her dad rasped, turning up the volume on the TV. That was a clear indicator that the conversation was over. Nico sent her a look that had her smirking and flipping him off.
Roz pulled out her phone and gave it quick glance. She had texted Patrick earlier in the day about having dinner with him. Yes. It had taken her three days and her heart stuck in her throat, but she had done it, and now hadn’t heard back from him. She loathed how much it bothered her. She felt as if there were an itch all over her body that she couldn’t scratch. She had a hard time concentrating and that was not something she liked.
She walked into the kitchen. Her mom, Camila, stood at the stove, stirring something that smelled delicious in a huge stock pot. Her grandmother, Maria, had her wheelchair pulled up to the kitchen table and was slowly and precisely cutting up an onion. Roz placed a kiss on her gray hair, inhaling her sweet scent.
“Como estas, Abuela?” she asked, crouching next to her grandma’s wheelchair. Maria lifted her soft wrinkled hand and ran it down Roz’s cheek.
“Mi dulce nieta.” My sweet granddaughter. She smiled at her before returning her attention to the onion she was cutting. Some days were better for her grandma than others. Well into her nineties, she was still smart
as a whip but some days the energy for it just wasn’t there. Roz stroked a hand down her frail back.
Her cousin, Amy, Nico’s wife, poured a glass of red wine at the counter. “Want some, Roz?”
“Nah, I’ll take a beer, though.” She stood and went to the fridge, grabbing a cold one and twisting off the top. “Need any help, Mamà?”
Her mom turned to look at her, a slight smile on her aging face. Her graying brown hair was pulled back into a bun, a few wispy strands escaping. “No, no, we got it. Your abuela is cutting up the last of the veggies and then we have to let it simmer.” Roz nodded, peeking into the stock pot. It looked like chicken tortilla soup.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Hating herself, she scrambled for it. It was just a message from Oscar—again. She let out an audible sigh and slipped it back into her front pocket without even bothering to read it.
“Was that work?” her mom asked.
Roz scrunched her brow. “No, why?”
“You checked it rather fast so I thought maybe it was important.” Her mother sent a sly smile her way.
Roz rolled her eyes and swiped her hand through the air. “It was nothing.” Her mom looked as if she was about to say something else.
“Want to sit on the patio with me?” Amy asked, holding up her bottle of wine and nodding toward the patio door.
Roz nodded, glad to be saved from her mom’s questions. She grabbed a backup beer before following her out the patio door to the small cement square that had a wicker patio set on it. She took a deep breath of fresh spring air as she sat.
“Something on your mind?” Amy inquired.
Roz shook her head, letting out a thoughtful noise and taking a sip of her beer. “No…ready for the weekend.” She laughed. “How are you and Nico doing?” They were newlyweds and Amy had always been her closest cousin. Plus, she didn’t want to talk about herself.
