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“No!”
“Are you fucking crazy?”
“Maybe.” I shoved him back an inch to give myself some breathing room. “How the hell did you get here so fast anyway?”
“I have my ways and means.” His lips twisted in a smug smile that only made me more frustrated.
“Were you going to text me back or leave me hanging all night?”
“You mean like you’ve done before?” He stepped into my space again.
“I haven’t,” I ground out. “You need to step the fuck back.”
Tucker didn’t move. “You have, and you will again, because that’s what you do. You want me close but not too close.” A fist wrapped around my heart as he glanced down at his feet, the toes of his shoes a hair’s breadth from mine. “So how’s this right here? You fucking tell me. Too close?”
His flashing gaze met mine, and I swallowed back the instinct to do what I always did, to push him away again, and instead answered with the truth. “Not close enough. And it never will be,” I said and then crashed my mouth into his. The kiss seared through me for long seconds before cool air rushed over my face as he pushed me away.
“You’re a fucking pain in my ass, you know that?” he rasped as he caught his breath.
“Yeah,” I answered as he yanked me toward him again. “What are you gonna do about it?”
16
TUCKER
“Not close enough. And it never will be,” Patrick said, and before I knew it, his lips were smashed against mine.
I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him back, tasting him because I craved having Patrick on my tongue, but I only gave myself a split second before my good sense took over, and I pushed him away. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass, you know that?”
It took everything inside of me not to claim him right then and there. Hell, it had been like that all night. He hadn’t texted me at all since Christmas and only sporadically replied to my messages. And when I stopped sending them first, I just didn’t hear from him at all, yet tonight of all nights, he’d touched base? Joked about letting me lick him as if I hadn’t basically put my cards on the table when I flew across the fucking country to decorate his house? A person didn’t just do that for someone who didn’t matter to them, and near radio silence since then had hurt.
But I also knew Patrick, knew how hard this shit was for him. He didn’t know how to give himself to someone, how to let them in, which was how he ended up doing dumb stuff like he’d done tonight—talking shit to Rams, G, and Atwood because he was sad…and fucking lonely…and it was easier for him to actively push people away rather than to tug them closer. It was easier for him to pretend to be an asshole so no one would ever know he cared.
And he would regret it, just like I’d known he would regret his behavior at the bar tonight.
“Yeah. What are you gonna do about it?”
I tugged him closer to me, a possessive hand on his nape, fingers dancing along the tender skin there. I wanted him so fucking much. Jesus, I had never wanted anyone in my life the way I did Patrick Whitt. He’d had control over me one way or another since we were kids, and I was done with pretending otherwise.
“No more games.” I let my lips linger just a breath away from his but didn’t give him what he wanted. When Patrick tried to kiss me, I held him back, eased away so I was just out of reach. “No more games,” I said again. “If you want me close, that means you’re fucking mine for real now.”
I loosened my hold, letting the choice be his. Patrick inhaled sharply, and then words spilled from his lips. “Fuck you for making me need this,” before his mouth slammed down on mine. This time, I let him kiss me, opened up for him to push his tongue inside. He ate at my mouth like he needed it for nutrients, like kissing me was the only way he could breathe.
My arms encircled him, hands on his tight ass before one slid up his torso and tangled in his soft hair.
Patrick fed me needy sounds, all of which I devoured, swallowed them, trying to hold a part of him inside of me that way. He rutted against me, his dick hard against my thigh.
“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me,” he rasped out before lips suctioned to my neck, biting and sucking my skin into his mouth to the point that I knew he was leaving his mark behind. He was claiming me because he wanted me that goddamned much, and it made me feel like the luckiest person alive.
“That’s it, baby. Take what you need from me. You wanna make sure everyone knows I’m yours?”
They wouldn’t, of course. Not him specifically, but they would know I belonged to someone. I wished the whole fucking world could know it was him.
Patrick moved to the other side, teeth digging into the meaty part where my shoulder and neck met before licking the sting away, then marking me there, too, sucking on my neck and rutting against me like he could come that way.
I shoved a hand down the back of his pants, and he spread his legs for me. It was awkward and a tight fit while I traced his crease, then pushed my finger between his cheeks to find his tight, hungry hole. He damn near melted against me. “Look at you, dying for my cock. You’d live with it inside of you if you could.”
“Christ, Malik. Why do we still have our clothes on?” he asked, making me chuckle.
