Page 83 of Taming Tesla

His face slides into a crooked smile, the corner of his mouth inching up enough to show that lickable dimple of his. “Sounds fun.”

Using the remote, he cues up the DVR and selects the reality show I’ve forced him to watch since I moved in. There are over twenty episodes saved. “That Tanya bitch found out her assistant is—”

“You kept recording my shows after I left?”

“Sure,” he says, the corner of his mouth tilted up in a crooked grin. “Why wouldn’t I?”

For a second, everything melts away. The doubt and the differences. For a second, when I look up at him, he’s Patrick again. My Patrick. “Thank you.”

He tips his face down to look at me. “You’re welcome,” he says, his gaze drifting over my face like it did at Benny’s like he’s trying to convince himself that this is real. That we’re together.

“I missed you,” I tell him and he smiles again, angling his neck to bring our lips close enough to kiss me.

“I’m glad.” He says it against my mouth, and I laugh.

“You weren’t kidding—” I lean back a little, catching his gaze with mine before I smile. “you’re kind of a dick these days.”

“You love it.” He presses his lips against the soft underside of my jaw. I can feel the wicked curve of them against my skin. “Historically speaking, you have a thing for assholes.”

“Just the one,” I whisper, my lashes fluttering against my cheeks when I feel his mouth against the pulse pounding in my throat. “Patrick…” I say his name as his mouth slides over mine. The moment our lips touch, a moan pushes its way through my chest, and I open my mouth to set it free, moaning again when his tongue licks and swirls against mine. “Is this okay?” I ask between kisses, hand fisted in his shirt, desperate to keep his mouth and hands on me. I don’t care if this is okay or not. This is happening. I’ve waited too long to have him against me. Inside me.

“No,” he says, turning his mouth away from mine. “This is pretty fucking far from okay…” I can feel his control slipping, bit by bit, the press of his mouth growing heavy. Desperate. His hands slide up, threading fingers through my hair, gripping tight, pulling my head back to expose my throat to his open mouth. He closes it over the place where my shoulder meets my neck, sucking hard and I cry out, the stinging pleasure of it shooting straight down my spine. One of his hands slides down my throat, caressing my breast before falling to my thigh, his fingers pushing up the hem of my dress until it’s bunched around my hip. “I need to stop.” Even as he says it, his fingertips coast up the inside of my thigh, gliding over my feverish skin, closer and closer to my slick heat. He drops his head to my shoulder, his warm breath, harsh and fast, against my neck. “Tell me to stop.”

I whimper in response, opening my legs wider, fingertips digging into his arms. Pulling him closer, urging him on.

He groans my name the moment his fingers meet the bare skin of my pussy. I’m not wearing underwear.

“I was in the shower,” I pant out, hand sliding down his arm, gripping tight to hold him against me. “I didn’t—” My breath catches in my throat when he cups his hand over my mound, the heel of his hand pressing on my clit, two of his fingers sliding past my entrance, stroking into me. “Patrick.”

Suddenly, he’s gone. On the other side of the couch, as far away from me as he can get.

“Shit.” He drags his hands through his hair and shakes his head. “I need to leave.” His chest is pumping hard, his obvious erection straining against the zipper of his jeans. “It’s late, and—” he says, swiping a shaky hand over his mouth, refusing to look at me. “I need to leave.”

“What?” Confused, I sit up, pulling my dress down. “Why?”

He jumps up like the couch is on fire, crossing the room in a few angry strides before he turns to face me. “Because you’re a problem for me, Cari. I can’t—” Wincing at the sharp tone he uses, Patrick takes a deep breath and tries again. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, chest still heaving, fingers laced around the back of his neck. “I can’t think straight when you’re this close to me…” He looks at me, jaw set. Mouth tight. “I forget what I want.”

“You’re mad at me again,” I say quietly. “You think I came out here to—” Push you. Play games. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just wanted…”

He scowls at me like I just said the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “I know that, Cari.”

“Then why are you mad?” I say, chin set at a stubborn angle to keep from crying.

He sighs and drops his hands, his face softening “Come here.”

I stand up. Go to him.

He reaches for me, his fingers gentle as they brush across my face, despite the hard look he’s giving me. “I shouldn’t have yelled,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m not mad—not at you.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss against my temple. “But I have to go. Lock the door behind me.” He hesitates, his mouth twisting for a moment before he continues. “And if I come back tonight, don’t answer the door.”

“But—”

“I’m serious,” he says, teeth clenched. “Promise me.”

“Okay. Promise,” I whisper, nodding my head. I don’t have to ask why. I understand.

He leans in, pressing a quick kiss against my temple. “Goodnight.”

“Will you call me when you get home?” I blurt out. “Please—it’s late. I’ll worry if you don’t.” It’s true, I will worry, but it’s the need I have to hear his voice that has me asking.

He hesitates again, and I expect him to tell me no. Make an excuse that it’ll be too late. That he needs to get some sleep Instead, he nods, a quick bob of his head.

He watches me for what feels like forever before swiping his jacket off the chair and walking out. I stand here, listening to his heavy footsteps thunder down the stairs, moments before he slams the door.

He’s gone.

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