A distant voice reminded me that he was my boss, and this type of lesson from Patrick meant our professional relationship—the same professional relationship I dreamt of foryears—was changing forever.
“We shouldn’t do this,” I whispered, our mouths a breath apart.
“Yeah,” Patrick murmured, his hands moving over my hair and down my back until he cupped my ass. His lips mapped my cheekbones and jaw, leaving a fevered trail in his wake while his hands urged my hips forward. “And the fact we lasted this long is a fucking victory.”
He wasn’t wrong.
The ridge of his erection connected with my belly, low—just a few inches away from where I needed it. My grip tightened on his sweater. Patrick’s hand slipped under my shirt, his thumb coaxing my nipple to attention. Weeks of fantasizing about Patrick and flirty chatting over lunch did nothing to prepare me for his hands on my body and his lips on my mouth.
“Do you want me to stop?” He studied me, his expression even despite the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders while he caught his breath.
He was giving me an exit. Swallowing thickly, I stared at a patch of freckles on his neck while I brainstormed a list of acceptable reasons to make out with my boss. It wasn’t a long list—’because I want to’ was the first entry, and ‘because he wants to, too’ was the last.
I shook my head and framed his face with my hands. “No. Don’t stop.”
I didn’t know how long we stayed that way—maybe it was minutes, maybe it was an hour. Our bodies tangled while we moved with the pounding rhythm, our lips parting for frenzied moments before reconnecting.
“Andy? Oh, hey.” Jess’s hand squeezed my arm and tugged it away from Patrick’s neck.
“Hey.” Her coat was buttoned and her purse folded under her arm. “This is Patrick—”
“We’re going.” Jess’s eyes moved over us, and she spared Patrick an irritable glance. “Now.”
His hand rested in my back pocket, and was all the confirmation I needed. “You go ahead. I’m good.”
Jess pinned me with a fierce look. “Can I talk to you?” She sneered at Patrick. “Privately?”
With great reluctance, I stepped out of Patrick’s arms and followed Jess to the side door. Emergency exit lights illuminated the alcove, bathing us in red.
“Why are you being hostile?” I asked, my arms crossed over my chest.
“Um, I thought you were here to support me. I didn’t think you were here to get skanky in a corner. I had a really bad day, and I needed you on my side. Obviously that was too much to ask of you.”
“It looked like it was under control with Marley and your dental people—”
“Is that Patrick, your boss Patrick?” Jess interrupted. “The one you talk about all the time? The one who’s really anal about stuff?”
“Same.”
Jess recoiled from my words. “If it were me, I wouldn’t be getting into shit like that right now. I wouldn’t want to go through that again, even if he does look like sex on wheels. I certainly wouldn’t be whoring it up.”
I glanced back at Patrick, his hands propped on his hips, his eyes fixed on me. I didn’t answer Jess, but she did get me thinking.
What was next? Did I invite him to my place, or me to his? Did we spend the night together then conduct business as usual in the morning?
Could it ever be that simple?
“Okay, you’re going to do what you want anyway. You always do.” Jess held up her hands. “Just tryin’ to help. This has been a wicked bad day and I need to go home now, so whatever.”
She stomped away, and I watched her go. I felt Patrick’s eyes on me, and met his gaze. He approached, reaching out for my waist.
“I have an early morning,” I said.
“Yeah. Me too.”
I laughed at his wry smile. My hand wrapped around his wrist, bringing his watch into view. “And it’s late.”
He shrugged. “We should do this again. Maybe at a decent bar, or a fish dive. I hear there are some great ones in New Hampshire.”
