Wrong Pt. 02

Patrick stared at me. A corner of his mouth moved up like he wanted to smile, but he didn't seem particularly amused. "Nina, really?Thatis the moment you started loving me? That's... disappointing. And sad. I was being a dick."

My numb face managed a slight smile. "Maybe. You were being less of a dick than usual, which I appreciated. It was the first time you said something halfway decent to me. And you were soangryfor me. On my behalf." I looked down at my pruned fingers. "You also forget I'm used to macho men who don't really express their feelings. My dad is a good example of that." I looked back at him and my heart thumped heavily at the expression I saw on his face, at how he restrained himself from holding me, likely thinking I'd shatter into a million pieces if he touched me. "Even if what you said was carefully constructed to come off as an insult, I read through it. I had no idea what you felt back then, but in that moment I remember thinking, 'Wow. He's not such an asshole.' I didn't know it then but hating you became a lot more complicated. I might not have loved you then but something shifted."

Patrick let the water drain and pulled me up, drying me off with another large towel. Once I was dry to his satisfaction, he gazed down into my face. "I can't believe it was that easy. Something so small. And here I thought I was going to have to buy you diamonds and rubies and thousands of books to get you to love me."

It was said with humor but there was a touch of that vulnerability that lingered around the edges of Patrick's personality, left over from a time when no one loved him or cared for him when he was a kid.

My heart was broken and bleeding because of what I had done knowingly and almost gleefully to Chloe, but it ached when I watched Patrick and thought of letting him go. Finally I let myself completely feel everything—not just the guilt and shame.

"No," I said firmly, putting my hands on him for the first time since we were discovered.

Patrick's eyebrows rose. "What?"

"You asked me before if I was sorry about us, if I regretted it. My answer is no."

He caressed the side of my face with his hand. Then it danced down to my throat, where it curled around to grab me. He felt my heart racing and smiled faintly. He ran his hand up into my hair and clutched it in a strong fist, tipping my head back so he could kiss me deeply. He hugged me close to his chest and his pounding heart. His kiss expressed almost boyish delight, mingled with distinctive adult male satisfaction.

Pulling away a few moments later, his damp lips grinned. "This doesn't mean I'm going to stop being an asshole."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." I gave him one last peck and slipped a long shirt over my head. I picked up my phone. At Patrick's inquiring look, I said, "I'm just going to leave her a message. I'm so worried."

He nodded and then cleared his throat. "So, do you want me to go home? I can go home. Give you time."

Letting out a deep breath, I shook my head. I'd committed myself to this path. Some, who knew Patrick and his ways well, would say I damned myself to it. And I wanted him to stay, no matter what. Enough vacillating. It was time to pick a decision and stick to it.

"Stay. I'll be right back."

Relieved, Patrick removed his clothing. I walked out into my living room and called Chloe. It went straight to her voicemail.

"Chloe... I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am you had to see that. This isn't something we've been doing for— I've been such a coward lately. I need to... explain, if you'll let me. Iloveyou and Inevermeant to hurt you. I know that Ididhurt you, that I've been a selfish bitch.I love you so much.You're my sister.Pleasecall me when you can. We need to talk."

I sniffed and shook my head, hanging up. This was going to take a lot more than words. I didn't know if my relationship with Chloe could ever be repaired. Something told me the scars from this would last a lifetime.

Walking back into the bedroom, I couldn't help but smile at the sight of Patrick sprawled out and fast asleep like a little kid, Rufus curled up on his chest. It was strange getting used to his vulnerable side, but I liked it. I was struck once more by how quickly everything had transformed. It was overwhelming, to be honest.

I didn't know what would happen with Patrick. He was moody, arrogant and a self-proclaimed narcissist. He had changed slightly, but he hadn't changedthatmuch. He could very likely break my own heart one day.

Climbing into bed with him, smelling him and feeling his warm arm automatically wrap around me, I figured it was a risk I was more than willing to take.

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

Thankfully the next day was a Saturday. Feeling and looking as I did, I would have had to call out from work. My eyes were glassy and puffy, and I'd had nightmares all night. I was exhausted, scared and devastated.

Patrick woke up and smiled at me, and then his smile faded. I looked awful. "I'll go get you breakfast," he whispered, kissing my lips. "The place around the corner, right?"

I smiled—or at least I tried to—and pressed my lips onto his cheek.

I took a hot shower, then crawled right back into bed. Peeking at my phone, I saw I had no missed calls or texts. I nearly drifted off to sleep when the phone went off. My heart and stomach lurched and I quickly reached for it to look at the screen. It was my mom. Shit.

"Mom?"

"Hey, I haven't talked to you in a couple of days."

Weird. She sounded pleasant.

"Um, yeah. I've been busy."

She laughed a little. "Always working so hard. Get out and live a little, Nina."

Oh, Mom. You have no idea.

"Mom, have you talked to Chloe?"

"That's actually why I'm calling you. She stopped by this morning and she looked likecrap. Do you know anything? She said she was fine but she was obviously upset."

I closed my eyes. So Chloe hadn't said anything to Mom and Dad. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or horrified.

"I've been trying to call her," was all I could say.

"I hope it isn't anything to do with Patrick. She lets him get to her far too much."

I shifted in bed, massively uncomfortable.

"Even today I told her he was an ass, that she could do much better. I don't think she gets it."

"Yeah," I muttered, tears making my voice slightly wobbly.

My mom picked up on it, and as all mothers do when you don't want to talk about something, she asked me about it. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Are you crying?"

"No."

Mom sighed. "What's the matter?"

"I'm just really tired. Mom, I've got to go."

"Okay." Wow, she gave up easily for a change. "Call me later. I'm worried about you,andyour sister."

"Okay."

We hung up and I took several calming breaths.

Patrick strode in. "Fucking place took forever. I can't—" His words stopped when he saw me sitting there, crying quietly with my phone in my hands. "Did she call?"

I shook my head. "My mom."

"Oh, Jesus." He ran a hand through his hair. "Bad?"

"Sh-She doesn't know. C-chloe didn't t-tell her." I could barely breathe, let alone speak.

He sat down beside me and took the phone, placing it on my nightstand. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Yes. No. I didn't know.

Patrick put his head on thighs and kissed my skin. "It's going to work out. You don't believe me now, but I swear to you that it's going to be fine."

I doubted very much it was going to befine, but I didn't want to think about it anymore. I wanted to forget.

"Touch me," I begged, squeezing my eyes shut to stop the annoying tears.

Sitting up, Patrick let his hands run up my legs, pushing up the long shirt I wore. I tried to lose myself in the feeling but pain still ached in my chest.

"More."

He kissed me, nibbling a little on my bottom lip. "Let me help you forget."

"Yes."

"You're so beautiful," he breathed against my cheek. I let out another sob, unable to stop it. "Shhh. It's okay."

He ran his tongue down my neck while his hand moved over my pussy. His fingers spread around, moving in the wetness that increased with every pass he made. A finger slipped in and I gasped. He started sucking the flesh of my throat and then put another finger inside. My pulse throbbed in my ears and between my legs.

"I need you," I whispered.

"I know." He blew gently on the skin dampened my his mouth and I shuddered. My hand went up to his hair, tugging on it and holding him to me.

His hand worked against me, turning me into a helpless mess. I moaned and said things I didn't even understand, but Patrick understood it all. Somehow he'd removed all his clothes and placed himself against me. He was hard and almost as needy as me. He slammed into me with a deep punishing thrust that was so brutally delicious I forgot everything but the feeling of him inside me.

"Look at me," he grunted.

His words wormed their way into my awareness and my eyes fluttered open, the lids heavy with fatigue and pleasure. I stared into his eyes while I begged him to go faster. He pumped against me in rough, plunging movements, but then he slowed down.

"Nooo," I complained, running my fingernails down his sweaty back until I reached his ass. I clawed at him, pushing him into me. "I want to get on top."

"What?" he panted.

"Me. On top." I wanted to control this since it seemed I could control very little else.

He obliged and flipped us over so I could ride him. His strong hands cupped my butt and tried to move me up and down, but I resisted. Leaning across his body so that my nipples touched his chest, I whispered in his ear. "I'm running this, asshole." I sat up and moved all the way up before slamming back down. Scorching heat up through my pussy and obliterated any remaining particles of pain floating around in my mind.

He moaned and slid his hands around, letting one grasp my boob while the other toyed with my clit.

I ran my nails up and down his chest, scratching him as I moved fast. My hair flew around me; some strands stuck to my sweaty forehead. The sex was so intense I nearly burst out into tears again.

Wanting to dish out the same punishment, I started slowing down. I ground into him, letting his cock move around inside my soaking warmth.

"No," he said breathlessly. "Please. I need... Need it faster."

"Too bad." I smirked when his eyes focused on me. My head fall back as I moved back and forth slowly, careful not to let his cock slip out. My mouth opened in a silent groan as I felt an orgasm not far out of my reach. In spite of my desire to torment him a little, my body's own needs won out. My hips automatically moved faster.

"Yesss," he sighed slowly. My head fell forward and I tried to smile as my hips thrust hard into his. He stared at where we were joined, his lips parted. His finger rubbed fast circles on my clit.

Sounds came out of my mouth I never knew I could make. "Fuck," I gasped as the hot and cold waves rolled through my belly. I came harder than I could ever remember, clenching him hard. It seemed to last forever.

When I got my bearings, I realized he was still hard inside me and was fucking me from below. In spite of my amazing orgasm, I was still hungrier than ever for him. I hopped off of him, ignoring his startled protest, and rapidly kissed my way down his chest. His wet dick slid up my stomach and over a tit until it proudly pushed against my smiling lips.

"Oh, God," he said, looking down at me with a twisted expression. He sounded and looked like he was in pain. Poor baby.

My smile grew at the sight of him. It was fun to see the great and powerful Patrick Thorne nearly whimpering for my touch. I kissed the head of his cock and laughed at his tortured curse.

Licking my lips, I moaned at the taste of me on him.

"You're fucking killing me," he groaned. "I mean it."

Smiling again, I just took the tip in my mouth and swirled around.

"Ugh." Patrick's hips involuntarily moved upwards.

"All good things come to those who wait," I teased.

"Haven't I waited enough?" Patrick panted, his eyes glowing in the late morning light. The double meaning of those words stole the smile off my face, replacing the moment with severity.

Things I didn't want to remember threatened to creep back in, so I swallowed his cock. He cried out and grabbed the back of my head. Having such a vulnerable yet powerful part of Patrick inside my mouth made my pussy tingle yet again. His fingers wove into my hair and desperately shook. I made a little noise at the delightful feeling and he moaned. All the while my tongue snaked around him and my cheeks provided warm, wet suction. I moved up and down, moving frantically as I felt him harden further. His breathing sped up and twisted. No words were spoken. He could only grunt and make nonsensical sounds.

His cock bumped against my throat and I focused on breathing so I wouldn't gag. He pulled my hair and let out a pleasured cry.

Eventually he whispered, "It's coming."

I moaned into him, needing his cum as much as he needed to give it to me.

"Oh, God," he grunted, his hand pulling almost painfully on my hair.

He came a rush. My tongue flicked around rapidly as my mouth filled with that distinct salty taste of him. I tried to keep up with it, swallowing each current as it came, but some of it managed to leak down the side of his cock. When he was finished and his entire body relaxed, I licked up the remainder. He made a noise and shut his eyes against the sight.

Smug and thrilled with myself, I slithered up beside him. He was still gasping. His eyes opened and swung over to me and he grinned, running a shaking hand up my side. "You look like the cat that got the cream," he said with amusement.

Licking my lips, I smiled. "I guess so."

His forest eyes gleamed.

We stayed there for a while, wrapped up in the afterglow.

When the glow wore off, my smile died.

Sighing, I stood and put my shirt back on. I threw on some sweatpants and then quirked an eyebrow at Patrick who still lounged on my bed, thoroughly naked. "Are you going to sleep the day away, then?"

He didn't smile. His stare was intense and hypnotic. "It's going to be okay, Nina. They'll all forgive us. Just give it time."

My phone vibrated—I had a text. I had a good idea who it was from, and a glance at the screen didn't prove me wrong.

Chloe wrote, "Lunch at noon at the cafe around the corner."

I showed it to Patrick and he looked at it with confusion. "Well, I guess that's good. At least she wants to talk, right?"

I nodded silently, but I had a bad feeling about it. It was getting late so I started to get ready, not speaking another word to Patrick. He got up at some point and was waiting for me by the door when I walked over to go. He handed me my purse and pushed my hair back from my face. "I have to run over to my apartment for a little bit so I won't be here when you get back. Let me know how it goes, please."

I nodded and walked out, trying to convince myself that thiswasgood. She wanted to talk, to see me. I'd feared she'd never want to speak to me or lay eyes on me again.

We'd talk calmly, like adults, and maybe she wouldn't forgive me today—or ever—but at least we'd sit down and I'd get a chance to explain. Maybe, just maybe, she'd understand.

I had no idea how wrong I was.