Patrick

After I rang the doorbell, I turned and watched Declan drive away as I waited for Nya to open it.

I waved him off without speaking, but it was a temporary reprieve. I’d have to answer his questions, Michael’s and Sean’s too.

And my own, the biggest being what the fuck was I doing here?

The question had weighed on my mind as I’d driven here, but I was no closer to an answer. Michael had been right to insist on digging deeper into Nya’s background, and implicit in me staying away from her.

I couldn’t.

Maybe I was blinded by lust, but I doubted it. My dick might lead me astray, but my gut wouldn’t and it told me to trust her.

That was new for me, something I had never experienced. Maybe the need to understand what it was about her that made it impossible for me to stay away was what drove me there. Which was convenient, given how much I wanted to see her.

As I reached to ring the doorbell again, she opened the door and looked at me, her expression giving away nothing. Was she happy to see me? Pissed off? I didn’t know, but I didn’t care.

Because despite her own lack of response, when I looked at her my emotions were clear.

I was happy.

That realization was enough to shake everything I knew and believed, but I ignored it and walked past her and into the house.

She frowned as she closed the door, undoubtedly not pleased with my intrusion. Something else I didn’t care about, not when I was so close to her again.

I studied her, tried to figure out how she so easily managed to touch me in ways no one else ever had.

“What are you doing here, Patrick?” she said a long moment later, her eyes flashing her clear discontent.

I didn’t respond, but instead continued to look at her and then stepped closer.

I reached up and cupped one side of her face with my hand, but she didn’t flinch.

“We really did just meet by happenstance, didn’t we? You had nothing to do with it?”

She frowned, stepped back, and pushed my hand away from her face.

“Is that what you came here to ask me?”

Her words sounded hurt, and her expression reflected that same hurt. But I barely noticed, too preoccupied with my own thoughts. As much as I rejected the idea, some small part of me had hoped I’d been wrong. It would hurt, but Nya being a part of all this was something I could understand, something I could deal with.

The unwavering desire for her, the connection that already went so much deeper than it should have, was not.

It left me off balance, a place I never wanted to be. When I looked at her, I saw the hurt and fury in her eyes, again felt my heart give that weird little thump, I knew I was on even more unsteady ground than I had recognized even moments ago.

I fought against that, though, kept my eyes on her as I tried to resist what I knew was inevitable.

“That’s not an answer, Nya,” I said.

The hurt receded, though it didn’t go away completely, and she tilted her head, looked at me through narrowed, angry eyes.

“You’re asking the question. Again,” she said pointedly. “You must think you already know the answer.”

I said nothing but moved closer to stand in front of her. Her back was flat against the wall, but she wasn’t intimidated at all. In fact, she was practically baring her teeth.

I stayed still, didn’t speak, and Nya got the hint. She glared at me even harder. “You want an answer?” she said, seething.

“Yes.”

“I’ve already given you that, so instead of repeating myself, why don’t I tell you what I see?”

I nodded once, and she flashed me the most humorless smile I’d seen from her. “How gracious of you,” she said sarcastically. “I’m not on familiar ground here, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t get this quite right.”

“I don’t have time for your games, Nya,” I replied, my voice deepening with my own burgeoning anger.

“Just like I don’t have time for yours. But that doesn’t seem to matter to you now does it?” she said.

She glared at me, and when I said nothing she continued.

“Deciding that I needed to celebrate my much-sought-after promotion, I, without telling a single person I know, go to a place I’ve never been, alone. A stranger brings me a drink, a drink I stupidly accept. That stranger then invites me to his hotel room. I, a previously cautious woman, accept that invitation.”

Her eyes were blazing fire now, and though I wanted to stop her, I didn’t. Besides, given how wound up she was, it was probably best to let her get this out.

“So yeah, I go to said stranger’s room. Let said stranger do wicked things that I loved every moment of.”

She paused, frowned over that last bit, though her eyes still blazed.

“The next morning, I leave with said stranger. Before I can make it out of the hotel, someone sticks a gun in my face. I then have to run for my life, accompanied by said stranger of course. I get into a stolen car and am driven to what stranger says is his home. I later find out that just two months ago, said stranger was nearly indicted by the federal grand jury. And here’s the kicker! After learning this, I have sex with said stranger again.”

She glared at me hard, then shook her head.

“So after all that, after how terrified I was, how close I came to dying, you’re asking if I had something to do with it?” she asked.

I stared at her, searching her face and finding nothing but anger and hurt there. “Yeah,” I finally said, “that’s what I’m asking.”

“No, Patrick, I didn’t have anything to do with it. Now get the fuck out of my house.”

Nya glared at me like she could have killed me on the spot.

“No,” I replied.

* * *

Nya

“No?” I said.

“You heard me,” he responded.

I was so angry, I was nearly shaking, but I stayed still, kept my gaze lasered on him, knowing my expression left no doubt that I wanted to do him grave harm. Not like he seemed to care. He was still looking at me like he had not a care in the world, which only enraged me further.

“This is my home, and I told you to leave,” I said, seething.

“And I told you no,” he replied.

“Why the fuck do you want to stay?” I yelled, speaking the question that was the clearest in my mind through all of the anger.

His eyes, which had darkened, flashed, and in the next breath, he’d closed the space between us, pulled me until my body was flush against his.

I didn’t miss, couldn’t have missed, the hardness that throbbed against my stomach. Then, as if to prove the point—not that doing so was necessary—Patrick ground his hips against me. I sighed, brought my body even closer to his. Despite my anger, being this close to him sparked an inferno, and I was powerless to do anything but respond.

“This is why,” he said through clenched teeth.

He cock pulsed against my stomach, but his voice was calm. He’d have to tell me how he managed to stay so calm one day. I quickly pushed that thought aside, reminded myself that Patrick wouldn’t be teaching me anything. Wouldn’t be doing anything but leaving.

“I…” I trailed off, took a moment to breathe deep before I started again. “It seems like you have a…problem, but your little problem isn’t mine,” I said, my voice only barely trembling.

“This problem is anything but little, and it’s definitely yours,” he replied without missing a beat.

“What?” I said, the tremble in my voice that had been so small growing when he ground his cock against me yet again.

“My very large problem is of your creation. What are you going to do about it?” he asked.

As he spoke, he lowered his face to mine, his breath brushing against my skin. I swallowed again, looked up into his eyes.

“Your problem is not my concern, and like I said before, twice, I’d like you to go,” I managed to say.

He turned his lips up in a quick smile. “No you wouldn’t.”

If I hadn’t been so turned on, I would’ve been beyond pissed at his arrogance. As it was, I narrowed my eyes on him, took in his smirk.

“What makes you think that?” I asked.

But rather than cutting him down, taking away some of that smirk, Patrick only smiled deeper at my words.

I was so distracted, I barely noticed the deft way he slipped his hand into my pants, laid two fingers against my pussy. My ever-dampening pussy.

Pride wouldn’t let me look away, so I kept my eyes on his, managed, just barely to keep the slight tremble out of my body. He held my gaze, but kept his hand still, the moment lengthening, growing more intense, and with each second that passed, more and more wetness leaking from me.

Then, when I thought my lungs would explode from holding my breath, he moved his fingers. It was a faint brush, a feather of a touch, but I breathed out in a huff, my cunt clenching, aching for him.

Something he damn well knew.

“I told you you didn’t want me to leave,” he said.

He still smirked, but I could see the gathering intensity in his eyes.

“Patrick, I—”

He didn’t let me finish. Instead, he sealed his lips to mine. It reminded me of that kiss the first day at his house, but this was even more intense. Because then I had been raw, scattered.

I didn’t feel any of that now.

All I felt now was a need that gnawed at me, a need that would not be ignored.

Of their own volition, my hips began to rock, and I shifted until his finger split my pussy lips.

The pressure against my clit was amazing, and I moved a little faster, intensifying the feeling.

Patrick stayed still, and it wasn’t hard for me to guess that he took pleasure in me being so desperate I could do nothing but ride his finger, seek the completion I knew he would bring.

I should have been ashamed of myself, probably would be later.

For now I focused, moved against his finger in ever faster, erratic motions. Every time I moved, my clit brushed his fingers, bumped against his knuckle.

Ordinarily it wouldn’t have been enough to push me over, but nothing about Patrick was ordinary, least of all his effect on me. I had slammed my eyes shut, and now reached for him, closed my hands around his strong biceps and squeezed.

All the while he stayed still, his hardness against my stomach, his body impossibly strong against mine.

The climax came fast, hard, and it wrung what little breath I had left out of my lungs.

I continued to move against him until the sensation became too much, and, in tune with my body as he always seemed to be, he pulled his hands from between my thighs.

He’d proved his point, more than proved it, but I instinctively knew that this had moved beyond that. He pushed my hands down and pulled my shirt up.

What a difference a day made.

That thought was the first one to pop into my mind when I realized what was happening, that I was here, still catching my breath from yet another shattering climax, now naked in my living room with a man who was still a stranger. Still a dangerous one.

But even recognizing that, being aware of the absurdity and insanity wasn’t enough to make me break away. Instead I reached for him hungrily and began working open the buttons on his shirt.

I pressed my lips against his granite chest, slid the shirt off his shoulders.

I opened my eyes as I brushed my lips against his skin. My gaze landed on the dark patch of ink on Patrick’s rib cage.