Patterson stands and turns toward the window, shoving his hands in his pockets. His shoulders are rigid as he tries to hide the anaconda-sized bulge straining against his jeans.
I take a breath, smooth my hair, and move to the door. I hold it open wide enough to block my father’s view.
“Hey, Dad.” I almost sound normal. “What’s up?”
He tries to look past me into the room. “Shit. I’m at the wrong conference room. I’m sorry, honey.” His voice lowers. “How is it going? Is Patty treating you okay?”
“Great. It’s been really productive. Patterson’s been polite and on his best behavior.” The lie burns on my tongue, but then again, is it a lie after what just happened? “I should get back to it. Have to stay on schedule.”
“Right. Of course. My meeting was at two thirty, which means I’m now late.” His eyes narrow, and I can tell he knows something is off, but he doesn’t push. “Don’t forget dinner on Sunday. Your mom is looking forward to it.”
“I won’t.”
He nods and steps back. “Enjoy the process.”
“Thanks, Dad. I plan on it.”
I close the door and lean against it, my heart pounding so hard that I can feel it in my ears. Patterson turns from the window, and we stare at each other across the room while the reality of what happened crashes over me. I came on him because of him. Things escalated too fast.
He runs a hand through his hair, messing up the strands my fingers were threaded through. “This can’t happen again.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I mean it this time.”
He crosses the room in three strides, and I think he’s going to kiss me again, but instead, his hands slide under my skirt. I gasp as his fingers hook the thin waistband of my thong. He yanks hard, and the delicate fabric tears away from my body. The ripping sound is loud in the quiet room.
I yelp. “What are you?—”
He holds up the ruined scrap of lace, and I can see how wet they are. The evidence of what happened glistens on the fabric.
“What do you plan to do with those?” I ask breathlessly.
He tucks them into his pocket, his eyes never leaving mine. “Keep them as proof.”
“Of what?”
“That you want me.” He leans in close, his mouth brushing my ear. “Come to my penthouse. Tonight. Nine.”
Every nerve in my body is screaming to say yes, to let him take me home and finish what we started. But I think about how, one minute, he’s hot, and the next, he’s cold. He wants me when someone else conveniently does too.
“That’s gonna be a no from me, Pattycakes.”
He pulls back, and I straighten my stance, letting out a ragged breath.
“The last thing I’m ever going to do is show up at your penthouse like some puck bunny. I’m not falling for it. I got what I wanted.” I smooth down my skirt and blouse, trying to pull myself back together. “You might be my dirty little secret, Patterson, but I don’t want to be yours.”
“Wow,” he says and begins to give me a slow clap. “I honestly didn’t think you had this in you, but I was so fucking wrong. Bravo, Ken Doll. You’re not the first woman to come on my lap, and I’m pretty sure you won’t be the last,” he says, but it almost sounds like he wants me to be.
“You’ve gotthatlook on your face again,” I tell him. “You keep giving yourself away.”
Patterson growls, “You make me so fucking mad.”
“And horny,” I say, glancing down at his swollen cock that’s tucked up in his jeans. “Can’t forget that one.”
I smile, satisfied with myself as I gather my things. “Oh, Pattycakes, on Saturday, for our last session, wear your practice gear and meet me on the ice.”
He blinks. “You’ll never get this opportunity with me again.”
