Mustache clapped his hands in... satisfaction? Show over, the other attendees moved on, and he would too just as soon as Papa Boner left the building.
Patrick had a hard-on.Pressed into her back. What in the hell was going on? Raven and Bran were now facing one another. Bran looked at her sister like her smile housed the sun, and River believed, to him, it did. Sadly, Raven and Bran’s love story didn’t eliminate River’s current porn star moment. Patrick the Penis was making shitsuperawkward.
One of them had to do something— anything. “Umm... so... Pat?”
Patrick’s hand, still attached to her hip, flexed once, then twice before dropping to her side. He must have leaned down because his deliciously warm breath touched her ear, shooting shivers through her body.
“If you wouldn’t mind walking in front of me and heading to the back hallway where the restrooms are, I’d be indebted.”
Rowan chose that moment to see if River wanted to head to the bar. Think. Think. Think. “Save me a seat, Row. Pat and I are going to run to the restroom real quick.” Rowan smiled and waved as she headed in the direction leading to the rows of whiskey— to salvation.
River, all cool, no erectile aggression to see here, confidently strode from the room. Patrick kept perfect time with her shorter stride. As soon as they reached the darker hallway leading to the restrooms, Pat opened the door to their left and grabbed River’s hand, pulling her in behind him. As soon as she passed the threshold, he closed the door, locked it, and had her pressed against the solid wood within seconds. The only illumination was shown around the door frame.
Breathless. Excited. Nervous. Confused. All of the above. But also curious, desperate, and out of patience. “What the hell is going on with you, Patrick?”
His hands flat against the door on either side of her body, he leaned in, putting his mouth very, very near her own. “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know, Riv,” he admitted with a desperate edge.
Where Patrick O’Faolain was concerned, the phrase in for a penny, in for a pound struck true more often than not. “Well, your dick seems to know something. Why don’t you ask it?”
“Why are you making this so difficult?”
Incensed, River snapped. “Me?Iam the one making things hard? Pun intended.”
“Damn it, River! I’m not the man you need. I will only hurt you. I know it. If I hurt you, it would kill me. Please. Please be stronger than me and walk away.”
River gasped in surprise. Every one of her hopes and dreams where Pat was concerned were laid out before her. This moment. This was the one single moment she’d been dreaming about for months. “I’m not walking away, Pat. You may not be the man I need, but you’re sure as hell the man I want. The man I choose.”
His penis might have pushed them into this room, but she hoped it was her words that would keep them there. “River. River. River,” Patrick said against her forehead, her cheek, her lips— finally, finally, finally, he kissed her. His tongue, his teeth, and his very breath scorched her body. River would be surprised to find the room anything but ashes.
Patrick kissed— desperate and frantic —perfect. As his hands grasped her hips, pressing her body against the door, her hands explored— every bit of territory comprising Patrick’s body that she’d ever desired to touch. His neck, shoulders, chest, abs, and that very hard, very masculine anatomy straining his pants.
As Patrick’s tongue warred with her own, as their breath and bodies shook and spasmed, River ran her palm firmly against his suit-clad erection. Patrick groaned and pressed tighter against her hand. “You undo me, baby. I could come from your hand alone. Keep stroking me. Just. Like. That.”
As her hand worked his body, his hands found her breasts. Through the silk, Patrick rubbed, tweaked, and full-on pinched her nipples until River was all but quivering. “Patrick...” River needed— everything. One of Pat’s hands bunched her dress, wadding the material until it was high enough to reach her thighs. Yes. Yes. Yes!
And then knocking. Knocking on the door her back was currently plastered against. She heard someone ask how the door got locked. River’s eyes had adjusted to the dim light enough to make out serving carts, platters, and glassware. Oh God.
Patrick breathed a ‘No Way’ against her lips, his fingers just shy of brushing against her damp center, her fingers still wrapped around his clothed dick. This was... this was the worst moment to be interrupted. The. Worst.
“Pat,” River panted. A question?
“Riv. Just... give me a moment, and I’ll get us out of here.”
Patrick removed his hand from beneath her skirt. So, River reluctantly removed her hand from his zipper. He didn’t help matters by pinching her nipple one more time before fully separating their bodies.
Gently, he moved her slightly west of the door and, at a sloth’s pace, flipped the lock, opening the door to the bewildered waitstaff waiting beyond.
“So sorry, guys. We thought this was the coat closet.”
River died over the ridiculous lie but followed Patrick out, smiling and so sorrying as she went. Zero eye contact. River didnotwant to see the knowing smirks. As they neared the restrooms, River said, “And... the Awkward Olympics Award goes to... Patrick O’Faolain.” Elbowing her in the ribs, Pat suggested they use the restrooms to... sort their clothes out and then meet at the bar.
River couldn’t help grinning at Pat. She was giddy. Ecstatic. Patrick wanted her like she wanted him. Finally, holy shit. Just thinking about where her hand had been two minutes ago had her blushing but reveling in her daring as well.
River leaned toward Patrick before he went into the men’s restroom, thinking he might kiss her. He backed away suddenly and gave a quick glance at their surroundings. As if... as if he were making sure no one would see them together. Embarrassed now, she gave Pat a small smile before backing away. “See you in a few, then.”
“Of course,” Pat said, already turning away.
It was the last time River laid eyes on him that night. She met Rowan and a hovering Hugh for a drink, made the room rounds again, and then,finally, it was time to go home. It was just under a two-and-a-half-hour drive to Muskogee. They had a driver so everyone could kick their shoes off and relax.
