Nya

I needed to get my fucking head examined, because I had clearly gone insane.

When Patrick had asked that question, I had been so furious I hadn’t been sure I could speak. Now, hours later, where was I?

In my bedroom.

In my bed.

With Patrick. After he’d yet again fucked me until I’d seen stars.

There was no explanation for this, no reason for this insanity. So why did I keep allowing it to happen?

I didn’t have an answer. But I knew what this said about me, knew that at best I was a hypocrite, probably much worse.

Because if there had been any doubt, and there really hadn’t been, I knew exactly what kind of man Patrick was. What he did. And my body didn’t care at all. Some parts of my mind didn’t either.

For years I had held my grudges, railed against men like Patrick and the women who got caught up in their lives. And what was I doing now?

The exact same thing.

And the most messed-up thing about it was that I didn’t know if I could call this thing with Patrick getting caught up. He seemed to like sleeping with me as much as I did him, but there had been little beyond that. Which annoyed the crap out of me, and that annoyance shamed me even worse.

“If you’re still capable of thinking that hard, I need to step up,” he said into the darkness of my room.

Patrick lay next to me, a feeling that was unfamiliar. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a man in my bed, let alone one I wanted as much as him. I lay near the edge, and though I wanted to be in his arms, I stayed still.

“That man outside. He’s related to you,” I said.

Patrick nodded. “My brother.”

“Did you send him here because you thought I was involved?” I said. I’d turned to look at him, my heart twisting when my eyes met his, the edging desire lighting anew.

“I sent my brother here because I told you you would be looked after.” He spoke like his words said it all. They didn’t satisfy me.

“I assume you have…help. Why not send one of them?” I asked.

I was doing it again, asking questions I shouldn’t ask, digging myself deeper, when all I should want was out.

“I sent him because he’s one of the three people on the entire planet that I trust completely.”

I froze when I heard those words because I understood them, what was underneath them. That he cared enough about my well-being to send someone he trusted.

I looked at him, my face frozen as I studied him, trying to regain my equilibrium.

“Patrick, what is this?” I finally said on a breathy exhale, my heart starting to beat harder. I hadn’t wanted to ask, but I’d been unable to stay silent, couldn’t avoid this any longer.

I kept my eyes on him, waited. Waited so long that I thought he might try to toss it off as a joke, pretend he didn’t know what I meant.

I should have known better.

Direct Patrick was back.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“That doesn’t help,” I replied, sighing.

Patrick reached for me and pulled me across the bed until we were eye to eye, chest to chest. “It’ll be okay, Nya. So don’t be down,” he said.

“I have every reason to be,” I said in a voice that was nearly a full-on pout. I hated that pout, but I also hated feeling so powerless.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” he said.

I scooted as far away from him as his strong arms would allow, which wasn’t that far, and gave him an are-you-serious look.

“Patrick,” I said after a deep breath, “you’re a criminal. And I got shot at. You can’t just tell me everything will be fine and expect me to be okay with that.”

“Of course I can. And, yes, both the things you said are true, but we have a great time when we’re together,” he replied, a little smile covering his face.

“That doesn’t matter!” I exclaimed.

“Doesn’t it?” he asked as he reached for my breast and cupped it in his palm, his eyes darkening just as my breath began to quicken. He leaned forward and began to kiss my collarbone, something that made me weak in the knees even though I was lying down.

“No… It doesn’t,” I said.

He chuckled, his warm breath brushing against my skin and raising goose bumps.

“I don’t believe you,” he countered.

He traced his tongue along my collarbone, then nipped my wet skin.

Despite myself, I sighed, this time the sound closer to a moan than an expression of exasperation, and melted against him. “You shouldn’t… This is…ridiculous.”

My words started on a high pitch that soon lowered into a deep moan.

Patrick laughed again, then leaned forward and latched onto one of my hardening nipples. When he laved his tongue across it, I sighed again, lifting my hands to close around his strong shoulders.

Whatever worry was animating my mind, my body was willing to overlook. Rational thought had fled and I was left with nothing but my aching need for him.

He murmured something indecipherable, then sucked hard, sending my body arching off the bed. At the same time, he lifted his hand and roughly kneaded my other breast as he jammed his thigh between my legs.

My pussy was still damp, but it got even wetter in anticipation of him, and I rocked my hips against his leg, my clit bumping against his thigh.

The two points of sensation were fantastic, and a reminder of why I hadn’t been able to break from him despite how I knew I should have. Whatever the circumstances out there, this time with him was perfect. I’d never felt anything like it, was beginning to believe I never would.

Patrick used his hands and mouth to stir a storm in my body, one that became a hurricane as I rocked against his solid thigh. I was close like I always was, Patrick seeming to have the ability to send me toward climax with almost no effort.

But then he froze.

It took me a moment to realize that his hands had stopped, that his lips were no longer teasing my skin. I peeled my eyes open and met his.

“I—”

He moved with lightning speed and clamped his hand over my mouth. Then he lifted his hand and hovered a finger over his lips.

I nodded, but the questions that now swirled in my mind had completely replaced the desire.

Something was happening.

At that realization, I was frozen like he was, my heart beating so hard that I could not hear over it. I looked at Patrick again, saw that his eyes were intense, focused on the bedroom door.

For only the second time in Patrick’s presence, I felt real fear.