Page 33 of Patrick’s Seduction

“You don’t have to say anything right now. Just know that all I want is to keep you safe.”

He motioned to the stairs. “Let me show you to your room, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

As she followed him silently, she contemplated his words. He’d sounded almost nervous, and even though she believed him when he’d indicated that he wasn’t expecting any sexual favors, she also recognized that he wouldn’t turn her down if she made the first step. She’d felt it earlier in the day when he’d touched her, and she felt it now: Patrick desired her.

Automatically, she compared what she saw in Patrick with Cameron. Cameron’s desire for her had always been different, insistent, demanding, without an option on her part to reject him. But Patrick seemed different. He was considerate. He was giving her a choice, assuring her that he would still keep her safe, even if she rejected his advances. He went even further: Patrick wouldn’t even put her in a situation where she would have to make a choice.

Patrick opened the door to a room on the second floor and ushered her inside. She looked around. The room was rather large for a Victorian home, with high ceilings, cozy furnishings, a fireplace, and wainscoting inviting her warmly. There was a closet with sliding doors and an ensuite bathroom. The window looked out over a tiny backyard.

Patrick set the travel bag onto a chair. “Make yourself at home. There are fresh towels in the bathroom, and if you want something to eat, the kitchen is downstairs. The fridge is a little bare, but I’ve already sent Lydia to the grocery store. I’ll wait downstairs for her until she’s back. She’ll protect you here at the house while I’ll go back to the office.”

“You’re leaving again? But it’s night.”

He gave her a kind smile. “Crime never sleeps.” He looked at his watch. “Lydia should be back in about forty-five minutes.” He turned toward the door.

The thought of him leaving with this unspoken thing between them didn’t feel right. She reached for his arm. “Patrick.”

He turned back to her, seemingly surprised. “Yes?”

“It’s about what happened earlier,” she started, collecting all her courage, her eyes dropping to his parted lips, before her gaze shifted to his neck, where his carotid artery pulsed visibly. Oddly enough, she could almost hear his pulse drumming against his skin, and the sound drew her to him.

Pushing the odd sensation away, she ripped her eyes from his neck and met his gaze. He simply stood there, waiting patiently, giving her the time to collect her thoughts without interrupting her.

“I don’t regret what we did.” She took a step closer to him, suddenly feeling her body growing warmer. Damn, she wasn’t used to making the first step, although this wasn’t technically the first step. But in a way it was. “This isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“What’s not easy?”

“Telling a man that I want to have sex with him.” The words were out, and there was no taking them back now. All she could hope was that she’d been right in her assessment of Patrick, in her belief that he wanted more.

For a moment, only silence surrounded them. They both stood there as if frozen in time. And maybe time had just stopped, because she wasn’t even breathing. It was only when she felt Patrick’s warm hand on her face, stepping closer that she realized that she was breathing again.

“You made it look pretty easy,” he murmured with a smile on his lips. “And what man with a pulse could ever say no to such an offer?”

His words infused her with confidence, and she brought her body flush to his, feeling his heat join hers. “Is that a yes?”

He chuckled softly. “Let me show you what a yes feels like.”

An instant later, Patrick’s lips were on hers, and he was kissing her tenderly. It was different than when they’d kissed before. This kiss was slow and gentle. Their breaths mingled, and their tongues danced, exploring each other. Patrick put one arm around her waist, holding her tightly to him, while he slid his free hand to her nape, caressing her sensitive skin, igniting her cells as if she were a furnace and he was the match to ignite the fire. She let herself go in his embrace, molding her body to his, her hands clinging to his shoulders, not wanting him to change his mind and stop. Maybe she was only dreaming this, because everything she felt seemed more intense. It was as if her senses were sharper, and she was able to absorb his scent and taste to merge with her own.

Patrick was taking his time, not rushing anything, even though she could feel from where their bodies touched that he was aroused. His hard-on was impossible to miss, particularly since he rubbed himself against her sex. But even in that particular movement lay no rush, no hurry, because he wasn’t seducing her so she would sleep with him. No, that hurdle had already been eliminated: she’d already told him what she wanted from him. No persuasion, no coaxing was necessary on his part. Instead, every movement, every touch was meant to pleasure each other.

Instinctively, she thought of Cameron, and how he’d been during sex. While he’d certainly pleasured her, she’d always felt his impatience, as if all he wanted was her submission and his own pleasure. At the thought, she stiffened.

Cool air wafted against her lips, and she realized that Patrick had severed the kiss.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, meeting her gaze. “If you’ve changed your mind, it’s okay.”

She shook her head quickly, surprised that he’d noticed the subtle change in her body. “Nothing is wrong. And I haven’t changed my mind.”

He smiled, and his eyes seemed to sparkle, a golden hue reflecting in them. “I’m glad. But if you want me to go slower, I will. You just have to tell me.”

She looked into his eyes. Was this affection that shone from them? She’d never seen it in Cameron before. It had always been lust and desire. Maybe even love. But never affection and kindness. Patrick was different. Warm and gentle. Understanding and patient.

“Make love to me,” she whispered, realizing too late what she was saying. Earlier, she’d asked him to have sex with her, but now she wanted him to make love to her. Would he realize the distinction her subconscious had made for her? Did it even matter what she called it?

He brought his face closer to hers, his lips now hovering over her mouth. “Tell me what you like.”

“Can we get undressed?”