Chapter 40
CHAPTER 40
T he celebration at Blackthorn Security headquarters was in full swing—operators laughing, drinks flowing, the adrenaline of the past 24 hours still buzzing in the air. But all Pat could think about was finding Jasmine.
As soon as he walked in, he scanned the room for her, searching for that blond hair, those green eyes. There was no sign of Ryan either. His chest tightened. Had she left without saying goodbye?
“You looking for someone?”
He spun around, already breaking into a grin. “There you are.”
She looked incredible, even with the bruising under her left eye. Hair tousled, eyes alive with something he hadn’t seen before. Happiness.
“I hear you guys saved the day,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice.
“We had some help.” Then, more seriously, “It was thanks to you, actually. You gave us the lead we needed.”
“I’m just glad I recognized her.” She exhaled. “I still can’t believe Amir went to such lengths to mislead the authorities.”
“Yeah, well, it worked.” His expression darkened. “We all bought it.”
She nodded. “Did you hear? The Waheed brothers confessed, but even they didn’t know about the second attack.”
Pat’s jaw clenched. “Al-Jabiri played them too.”
“They thought the whole thing was just a bluff. A way to keep the government on their toes.”
“All I can say is Al-Jabiri’s lawyer’s gonna have a hell of a time spinning this one.” Pat smirked. “That bastard’s going away for life.”
Jasmine placed a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Patrick. For saving Ryan. I’ll never be able to repay you.”
“You don’t have to.” His voice was rough. “ I was just doing my job.”
But they both knew it was more than that.
She searched his face, hesitating, then smiled . “Still. You’re my hero.”
Something lodged in his throat. A hundred things ran through his mind, but only one felt right. “How about we get out of here?” he murmured.
Her eyes twinkled. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Pat grabbed a random set of car keys from the board in his office, and they slipped out through the back stairwell.
“Where is it?” Jasmine asked as they emerged into the underground garage.
He hit the fob. Headlights flashed two rows back. “There.”
“Great choice,” she said approvingly as they climbed into the sleek black Mercedes.
Pat revved the engine, anxious to get her home. There was so much to say—so much to unpack—but right now, none of it mattered. All he wanted was to be with her.
She put a hand on his thigh—and left it there.
By the time they reached his house, he was so fucking hard he could barely think straight. They barely made it through the door.
Pat kicked it shut behind them, hauling Jasmine against him, crushing her mouth with his.
“I missed you,” he rasped against her lips.
“Not half as much as I missed you.”
Her hands were already under his shirt, pushing it up, desperate to touch his skin. He yanked it over his head and let it drop. She did the same with her blouse, and then her bra.
He sucked in a breath. God, she was beautiful.
Pat slid his hands up her bare back, then down again, gripping her hips. She was here. She was alive. He had to remind himself this was real.
She arched into him, pressing her soft curves against his hard planes.
Then she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He groaned, gripping her thighs as he carried her toward the stairs, his pulse pounding in his ears.
Jasmine kissed his neck, nipped at his jaw, her breath hot against his skin.
Halfway up, he pressed her against the wall, grinding into her, needing to feel her closer.
She gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Pat… bedroom. Now.”
He chuckled, pushing off the wall, taking the stairs two at a time.
By the time they reached the bedroom, neither could get the rest of their clothes off fast enough.
They tumbled onto the bed, a breathless tangle of limbs and need.
Jasmine rolled on top of him, straddling his hips. “My turn,” she whispered, her eyes flashing with wicked intent. Pat grinned, letting her take control.
She kissed a hot trail down his chest, her hands roaming over every inch of muscle. When her lips reached his stomach, she glanced up through her lashes and gripped his cock in her hand.
Pat sucked in a sharp breath. “Jasmine?—”
“Shh…” She lowered her mouth over him.
His head dropped back against the pillows. Fuck.
The heat. The pressure. The slow, teasing strokes of her tongue. It was too much.
She hummed in pleasure, her hands gripping his thighs, taking him deep.
Jesus Christ.
His hands tangled in her hair. She was going to end him. Swear to God, he wouldn’t last. “Jasmine,” he growled. “If you keep that up?—”
She smiled against his skin, then pulled away. It was slow, deliberate torture.
“Not yet,” she whispered. “I want to feel you inside me.”
Pat flipped her onto her back so fast she gasped. He kissed her with a deep consuming need tinged with a desperation he hadn’t felt for a long time.
When she was writhing beneath him, and he could feel her slickness, he positioned himself and slid inside her. She arched off the bed with a cry, her fingers clutching his shoulders.
This. This was what he needed.
The heat, the connection, the undeniable rightness of her body wrapped around him.
He thrust deep, savoring the way she gasped his name.
She was his.
His grip on her hips tightened as he set a rhythm, slow and deep, driving them both higher. Her breath came fast, her body shuddering around him.
“Patrick,” she moaned. “Oh God?—”
“Come for me,” he growled.
Her entire body tensed, then shattered.
She cried out, tossing beneath him as pleasure wracked through her.
“Oh, shit!”
He lost it. His release tore through him, white-hot and blinding. Over and over again as he emptied himself inside of her.
Head still spinning, he collapsed beside her, both of them panting, slick with sweat, tangled in sheets and each other.
When he’d recovered, he pressed a kiss to her temple, breathing her in.
She smiled, a lazy, satisfied smile.
That confirmed it. He was never letting her go.
Then—
A creak on the stairs.
Pat tensed, his body going rigid. Jasmine stiffened against him.
Someone was in the house.