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Her question sends another rush of heat through me. I can still feel his mouth between my legs. His tongue thrusting into my pussy, lips sucking my clit. “What. Did. Sara. Say?”
She considers me for a few seconds like she’s thinking about leaving me hanging. “That he was gentle. Sweet. Generous. Considerate—all different words for the same thing.” Tess grins at me. “Boring.”
“Of course,” I mutter, pulling the wrapper off my straw, sticking it in my drink.
“What’s that supposed to mean,” she says, dark brows arched over her wide hazel eyes.
“Nothing,” I shake my head. How can I explain to her that Sara’s description of Patrick’s bedroom behavior all but confirms that as far as he’s concerned I’m not girlfriend material. I’m not the girl you bring flowers to and put on a pedestal, treat gently and say sweet things to. I’m the girl you take standing up. Finger fuck in the hallway. And the kitchen. Laugh at when she all but begs you to fuck her.
You asked for it. And fuck if I didn’t love every second of it. What does that say about me?
Tess must’ve picked up on my tone because she narrows her eyes at me. “Wait—are you mad?”
I shake my head—I’m not sure what I am right now. “He’s mad. At me. He wants me to move out.”
Tess grins at me. “Revenge sex can be pretty hot,” she says, shifting back in her seat. “Truthfully, I didn’t think Mr. Predictable had it in him.”
“Quit calling him that,” I raise my voice, drawing the attention of a couple of regulars, playing pool. I drop my voice to a harsh whisper. “Did you hear what I just said? He wants me to move out.”
“That’s not what he said, exactly.” Tess pursed her lips. “Sounds like he’s leaving it up to you.”
If you stay, I’m gonna fuck you. Whenever I want. As much as I want. However I want.
My pussy clenched tight at the memory, forcing me to clamp my thighs together. “I know,” I say, pushing my drink away. “but he’s angry, Tess. I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to stay.”
Tess starts to respond but closes her mouth when Lisa makes another appearance, this time with food. “Here ya go,” she says, moving to set a plate in front of Tess before lifting it back up. “Oops.” She sets the plate in front of me instead. “Your wings are coming right up.” Lisa smiles, showcasing the candy pink lipstick smeared across her teeth.
“Thank you,” I tell her, looking at the burger she placed in front of me then at the burger she put in front of Tess. They were the same, so why was she being so specific about who got what?
As soon as she’s gone, Tess lifts the bun on her burger and adds mustard. “Are you afraid he’s going to hurt you?” she says, her expression caught between concern and disbelief. “Because I’ve known Cap’n a long time and he’d never—”
I didn’t even have to think about it. “No.” Patrick had almost beat James to death with a bat for grabbing my arm. There was no possible way he would hurt me. “That’s not what I’m worried about… I’m just not sure our friendship is repairable.”
“Did you try apologizing to him?”
“Yes,” I bark the word. “Every time I even look like I’m going to say the word sorry, he—”
“Gives you a mind-blowing orgasm?” Tess says baldly, chomping on an onion ring while shaking her head. “What an asshole.”
“Shut-up,” I grumble at her and she laughs. I’d told her a sanitized version about this morning’s episode. I didn’t tell her about being so frustrated and desperate for release that I’d started finger fucking myself in front of Patrick or that he’d stopped me.
If I don’t stop thinking about him, my pussy is going to chew my leg off. I force myself to focus on the conversation. “He won’t listen.” I sigh and push my plate away. There’s no way in hell I’m eating food Lisa touched. Not ever again. “What we did was mean. It was wrong and...”
“We?” Tess says before taking a bite of her burger.
“Yes, we—” I hiss, looking over my shoulder toward the bar again to find Lisa watching me. Now I’m positive she’s spit in it. “This whole thing was your idea, Tess. Patrick hates me.”
“What do you care?” she picks up the bottle of ketchup and squirts a blob onto her plate. “I mean, really? You got what you wanted. You’ve scratched your Gilroy-sized itch and now it’s done,” she says, dipping another onion ring into the ketchup before popping it into her mouth. “On to the next, right?”
That’s what I’d thought. What I’d fooled myself into believing but, no. Not on to the next. There was no next.
There was only Patrick.
Tess must’ve seen it on my face because her burger hit her plate with a resounding plop. “You forgot to mention that part while you were offering up your feeble protestabout Operation: Get Gilroy,” she says, using air quotes around the word protest.
I’d forgotten how observant she was. How easily she can read people. “What part?” I reach across the table to snag one of her onion rings off her plate.
“The you’re in love with him part,” she hisses at me. “I never would’ve suggested any of it if I’d known you have actual feelings for him.”