Wrong Pt. 02

"I'm not saying it will be easy," he began slowly, "but can you honestly sit there and tell me you don't want me? And not just in a physical way?"

I was silent, except for my occasional hiccup. I was never a very good liar.

"Life's short, Nina," he said, repeating this again. He'd said it the night he took me out for dinner. "I just witnessed physical proof of that seeing my dad in his coffin. Let's just see where this road takes us, okay? I don't know what'll happen any more than you do, but I'd like to find out. I love you."

I sucked in a deep breath and shut my eyes.

"I do. I'm sorry if you don't want to hear it yet but I've kept it in for so fucking long. I love you. Please don't push me away."

"My family—"

"Loves you," he interrupted. "They'll understand eventually."

"Patrick! I can't just—"

But he shut me up again, this time with a kiss. His mouth fit so perfectly against mine. His scent made me insane. The exact pressure of his body against mine as he suddenly sprawled us out on my couch felt so right. It all feltso right.

"Don't you see?" he whispered hotly against my lips between a kiss. He started removing clothing, spreading my legs, positioning us. "Don't you see how right this is? Please, Nina, I need you."

Then those lips were against mine again and I found myself eagerly agreeing with everything he said.

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We eventually moved to the bedroom. He laughed at the posters on my wall.

"Are you still in college?" he asked. I couldn't help but snort a bit, too.

Rufus tried to get in there with us; Patrick nearly broke his neck trying to step over him. With a smile at me, Patrick picked my cat up and put him on the other side of the door.

Then we had sex again— and when we were done we rested, wrapped up in each other. He stroked my hair from time to time. Now and then I kissed his chest. We were in a perfect, right, beautiful bubble.

"What was your father like?" I asked him after a while.

He drew circles with his finger on my belly, keeping his eyes fixed on my stomach. "He was a lot like me, actually. An egotistical asshole. Unhappy with everything and everyone. I think he was what I would have become if I'd stayed in a loveless marriage. Bitter. Distant. Disinterested."

My heart hurt when I thought of Chloe.

"She's never going to forgive me if she finds out."

He wetly kissed a nipple and made my hips pop up. "You want to hide our relationship?"

"We're in a relationship?" I asked a little breathlessly. He murmured against my breast and the vibrations were incredible.

"Yes."

"Patrick." He climbed on top of me and he was so hard. "It can't work out."

"Chloe loves you. It's going to work out. All of it." Looking at my expression, he said, "If you prefer, we'll keep it discreet for a little while. But I'm not letting you go now that I've got you, now that I know what you taste like, what you scream like, what you moan like... what you feel like. I can't let you go." His steady eyes bore into my own. We both knew what a risk he was making, unveiling all his intimate thoughts and emotions to me when I could easily turn around and break his heart. It was then I accepted how serious he was.

I wanted to tell him something, but I didn't know what. Then he slid into me, touching me deep inside while his eyes probed my own, and I couldn't say anything at all.

******************************************************************

A few hours later he put his suit back on. Now it was entirely rumpled; hehadremoved it in a frenzy.

I slipped on pajamas and watched him prepare to leave. A pang went through my body and I realized I was already missing him. I didn't want to see him go. Impulsively I kissed the arch of his cheekbone.

His eyebrows jumped up but he just smiled mildly.

He went into the bathroom for a few minutes and when he came back out he looked much more put together, even though his suit was still wrinkled and he needed a shave. I decided I liked the unshaven look, anyway.

"I'll call you," he promised. "Tomorrow. I swear it."

I teased his penny-colored hair and told him I knew. "I'll miss you," I said without thinking.

I was embarrassed for being so obvious about it but it didn't really matter. Patrick knew I would already, I'm sure.

Patrick walked over and kissed me deeply, squeezing his arms around my middle. "Me too."

He walked slowly to the door like he hated to leave. I hated watching him go.

Then he opened door and left.

I went back to bed and quickly decided that the bed felt bigger and colder than ever before without him beside me. Rufus came to snuggle, which I appreciated, but it wasn't the same.

I laughed a little to myself, amused and horrified to realize I cared a lot more about Patrick than I thought.

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The next day Patrick called me at work like he promised and said he wanted to have dinner that night. He spoke nervously, almost as though he was worried I'd changed my mind in the time we were apart. I could understand his concern; Ihadchanged my mind a million times.

But I was selfish and I wanted him. I wanted also to desperately believe what he'd said to me could be true—that we could have each other and that everyone would accept us. He had sounded so sure, so convinced. Patrick was rarely wrong.

"Dinner sounds good to me."

"Really?" he asked.

"Really," I laughed. "Did you expect a different answer?"

"I'll pick you up at 8," he said before hanging up.

I smiled as I set my phone down. Then it vibrated again a little while later and I picked it up, not even bothering to look at the screen. "Are you double-checking? I already said yes!"

"What?" Chloe's confused voice asked.

"Oh." Shock and fear whipped coldly through my body. "I'm sorry, Chloe, I thought you were someone else."

"Who?"

"Just a friend," I lied.

"Nina. We need to have lunch. I'm leaving work right now."

Icy dread filled my heart and lungs. My stomach battled butterflies. "Okay... What's wrong?"

"We'll talk about it there. Meet me at Gino's in a half hour?"

"Okay," I agreed hesitantly. She'd already hung up.

My high from just a few short moments before was gone and I was crashing. I left work for lunch—terrified.

******************************************************************

She was already there when I arrived, toying with her necklace nervously and watching for me. When she spotted me she waved me over frantically. I suppressed the urge to throw up.

I sat down as gently as I could and looked at her with frightened eyes.

As soon as I sat down, she spoke. "Patrick's seeing someone, Nina."

Her face was grave and serious.She knew, I told myself. Trying not to faint, I prepared for her to start flipping out on me.

"How did you find out?" I managed to ask.

"I'm still friends with his secretary, Karen. She told me he came into work late yesterday in the same clothes he wore the day before with a big 'I've just been fucked' grin. Then she texted me and said she could overhear him making a date today."

"I'm so sorry, Chloe," I began, "I didn't—"

"Unbelievable. I wonder who the fuck she is. Karen said she couldn't hear him say her name, and no women have been stopping by or anything." She sat back in her chair and exhaled shortly. "I want to know so bad. I know it'll only torture me but Ineedto know."

Relief clashed with horror. She didn't know it was me, but she knew he was withsomeone. And she seemed hell bent on finding out who it was. I wanted to suggest maybe he walked in with the same clothes on due to grief over his father's death, and opened my mouth to do just that, but then I realized she hadn't mentioned anything about it. She still didn't know. Apparently Karen didn't know, either, or she would have told Chloe.

If I'd said anything, Chloe would have demanded to know how I knew and she was smart enough to figure things out. She'd know instantly who the new woman was, that's for sure. My heart pounded as I thought about how I'd dodgedtwobullets.

She talked about ways she could figure it out, how she knew she was trespassing on his private life but she couldn't understand how he could move on so quickly, how it wasn't fair he had met someone and she kept going on dates with losers, but I was lost in the stormy ocean of my own hazy, messed up world.

Then she said something and I was brought back to the conversation. "What?"

"I asked what's up with you. You're a million miles away."

"I'm sorry."

She looked me over and then a small smile flickered on her lips. "You're fucking someone, aren't you?"

"Chloe!"

She looked at me closely and her smile grew wider. "Oh my God, you'reseriousabout him, aren't you?! Why haven't you said anything? Is that why you've been acting weird? Tell me everything! My own love life may suck but that doesn't mean you can't tell me about yours!"

I can't tell you about mine, Chloe, because you're likely going to ram a machete into my head,I thought.

"I'm not seeing anyone."

This time she heard the lie. She looked at me like I was five. "Don't lie, Nina, it's written all over your face. Tell me."

Trying to smile, I just shrugged. "It's new."

Chloe sat back with a knowing smirk. "Ah. Don't want to jinx it, huh? I understand, I get it. But don't think you can hold out on me for long. I'll get you to tell me about it soon enough. I always get the truth!"

I sipped my water carefully, trying not to choke.

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When I got back from lunch I called Patrick immediately and relayed the whole thing to him. He cursed Karen and his own stupidity, and told me not to worry. Chloe would find out when we were ready for her to know. He calmed me down a little and then sweet talked me enough so that I didn't demand we stop everything all together again.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you later," he told me.

"Me too," I couldn't help but say.

Even after years of thinking I hated him, even after just having lunch with my spurned and devastated sister, I couldn't lie to Patrick.

Later, he showed up an hour early and laughed when he saw I was just in a towel.

"You planned this, didn't you?" I demanded, hiding my amusement. Apparently I couldn't hide it well because I felt the corner of my lips quirk up.

He didn't waste any time. He slipped out of his jeans and ripped off his boxers, smiling devilishly at my gasp. His shirt disappeared and then he was on me, ripping off my towel and pulling my wet hair.

Patrick kissed me and walked me backwards until my butt hit the back of my couch. Quickly he whipped my body around and bent me over so that I was facing the front door with my hands grasping the top of the couch.

I felt his cock slide against my ass cheeks and moaned. He reached around and put a hand on each tit, kneading them and flicking his rough thumbs against the nipples. I grunted and squeezed the couch.

"Yeah, I know you want it, Nina," Patrick said confidently. "We don't have a lot of time. We have reservations, actually, so I'm going to fuck you hard and fast. Are you ready?"

I couldn't answer him. His cock was now rubbing between my cheeks, making all sorts of dirty and naughty and fabulous things come to mind.

He let go of a breast and grabbed my hair, pulling on it slightly. "I asked you a question. Are you ready to be fucked, fast and hard?"

"Yes!"

He plunged in and I squealed, both at the sudden invasion and at the bite he decided to give my shoulder.

He wasn't kidding about the fast and hard part, but I was so wet and ready for him that I was screaming for him to go even harder.

"You like it rough, hm?" he whispered in my ear.

"Uh-huh."

"Then take that cock," he ordered, ramming it in so hard that I collapsed onto my forearms and hung my head. He was still tugging on my hair and saying all kinds of filthy things.

"Yeah, you're going to sit all through dinner," he gasped, "allthrough dinner with my cum inside you. Yeah, that's what I want. I want you to feel it all through dinner, dripping out into your—ugh—into your panties."

We were quiet for a little bit, our bodies moving constantly and frantically against one another. Patrick's thrusting was sure and quick, driving me out of my mind.

I finally let out a long, high-pitched moan and came without warning, digging my fingers into the fabric of my couch. It was endless and freeing andsomotherfucking good. I didn't want it to stop, and it seemed like it never would.

"Yes, yes,yes," Patrick chanted, fucking me hard as he felt my spasms around him. I knew it would be any second for him, too. Then he started pulsing, filling me up just as promised. His face dropped down to the back of my neck. He moaned open-mouthed against my skin.

"Feels so fucking good," he panted breathlessly. "Fuck, Nina,fuck!I love you! I love youso much!"

We heard glass shattering as Patrick continued to release inside me. Both our heads looked up in orgasmic bliss and confusion. Then our bodies popped up in shock.

Chloe stood there on the threshold of my apartment, one arm wrapped around a pillow. A broken bottle lay at her feet and thousands of little shimmering pieces of glass sparkled against the red wine on my floor.

She must have wanted a surprise girls' night.

She said nothing. I said nothing. Patrick slipped out of me. I felt his cum slipping from my pussy and down my thighs, the ultimate evidence of what we'd just done. Of what she'd seen. Of what she'dheard.

She took a step backwards. Then she took another. It was like we were wild animals and she couldn't turn her back on us because we were dangerous.

Well, weren't we?

Her face was white, her eyes wide, her mouth open on a silent scream. It felt like an eternity as we stood there, us watching her, her staring at our naked and fucked bodies.

Then she ran and disappeared, leaving behind the scene of betrayal as quickly as she came upon it. I was too frozen to go after her. I stared unseeingly at the empty doorway, wondering if it was all one big nightmare.

Patrick pulled his boxers on and retrieved a broom and a mop. He shut the door and started sweeping and mopping up the floor. I watched the glass dance and listened to the sound it made as he cleaned it up. It was a surreal experience, watching a nearly-naked Patrick cleaning my apartment.

I realized I hadn't put any clothes on and shuddered. I stood in the same place, the same position, completely naked. When Patrick finished getting most of the glass up, he glanced at me. He picked up the discarded towel from earlier and wrapped me up in it.

He pulled me into a hug I couldn't feel and kissed my cheek. "I'm sorry that had to happen like that. She shouldn't have had to find out that way."

I just stood there, letting him hold me, wondering how everything had gone so wrong.

Chapter 5: Revelations & Hope

An hour or so later I finally found my voice and told Patrick he should go.

"I just need some time to myself, I think."

His eyes stared down at me. "Nina, I don't want to leave you right now."

My hand went to my cheek, expecting it to be wet with tears, but it came away dry. I was confused. Shouldn't I have been weeping?

My cell phone rang from my bedroom. Cursing, Patrick went to get it. He came back out slowly and handed it to me.

"It's my mom, isn't it?" I asked, mildly surprised at how normal I sounded. How calm.

In hindsight, I was probably thinking the worst had already happened—my sister had caught us fucking. She'd heard Patrick screaming out his love for me. She saw me fucked and blissful. Nothing could be more terrible than that.

"No, your friend. I sent it to voicemail." He skimmed his fingers down my arms, caressing the goosebumps. "Do you want to sit down? You're shaking."

Blindly I sat and heard Patrick rustling around in my kitchen. He cooed at Rufus and I heard him open a can for him—thank God. Poor cat must've been traumatized.

He walked out a few minutes later with a glass of water and buttered toast. He made me eat and drink, but honestly I didn't give much of a fight. The energy was completely zapped from me.

After I ate most of the bread, Patrick picked me up and brought me into the bathroom. He turned on the tub, filled it with hot water and sank me into it. Picking up a washcloth and soap, he washed my sweating and soiled body delicately and lovingly. Though he hardly put any pressure on me, each swipe burned and bruised my skin. Each loving touch gave the most exquisite pain.

"Are you sorry?" he asked after a bit, disrupting the silence that rested over us like dirty film.

I digested the question and spoke in a voice I hardly recognized. "Of course I'm sorry. I broke my sister's heart."

Patrick stared into the bathwater, swirling it around with his hand. "No... I know you're sorry about that. I'm sorry about that, too. I meant— are you sorry about this? About us? Do you regret it?"

Sighing, I contemplated the scruffy, patient, kneeling man beside me who I used to detest above all things. He was carefully guarding his emotions. It had to be rough on him, too. In all his confessions, he never once said he hated or even disliked Chloe.

Was I sorry? Sorry seemed like such a silly word when applied to our situation, to what I'd done to my only sister. 'Regret' fell short, too. I acted so selfishly, aware of the damning consequences but too desperate to obtain my own pleasure.

I'd become freakishly needy for Patrick's touch. He had married my sister, shared her bed for years, had sex with her, cared for her, spent holidays with her, fermented his image and career with her by his side...

Was I sorry?

Now I was able to see a side of Patrick I never knew existed. For the first time in my life, someonemade loveto me. Someone was enamored with me. When you overlooked the antagonistic and self-serving persona, Patrick was amazing. Endearing. Beloved. Could I regret experiencing all that? Tasting him? Feeling him inside me? Seeing him watch me with such strangely devoted eyes?

Remembering a question I asked myself not long ago, though it seemed like years before, I wondered again how long ago I'd started wanting him. The whole affair had exploded so intensely and quickly that it couldn't have just begun when he started sniffing around. And the hate I had for him for all those years always seemed tinged with something else. If you truly dislike someone, you feel indifferent, don't you? Sparks don't ignite and pop down your spine when you see them. No, I'd felt a puzzling mixture of things for Patrick for as long as I could remember.

Since...

Then everything clicked into place. I didn't justwantPatrick.

"Do you know when I first started loving you?" I asked him, not realizing my prolonged silence had sent him into his own quiet whirlwind of thoughts. His head snapped up and the heat in his eyes nearly made me stop speaking. The words, however, and the emotions had been stifled for too long. "You were married to Chloe for four months and the two of you made me to go the movies with you. It was a stupid movie but I can't think of the name now... Chloe went to the bathroom. We were standing by the concession stand."

Patrick said nothing but his alert eyes and rigid posture told me he was listening and that he recalled it all perfectly. He never forgot anything.

"My ex-boyfriend was there. Mike. We had just broken up and he was there with some gorgeous girl, practically fucking her against the wall. You got so angry. I didn't understand it then. I was too depressed to make sense of anything, really..." I drifted off, thinking back, wondering how I could have been so blind. It wouldn't have changed our situation at all, but it might have prepared me for the onslaught of feelings that were slamming into my awareness now. "Anyway, I think I was about to cry or something. You said, 'Don't worry about him. Even someone likeyoucould do a million times better.'"