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Chapter eight – Master Patrick.
The following chapter has been edited by Curtis. Thank You, Curtis.
Patrick; tall, blond, handsome, thirty-something, Patrick. Women threw themselves at this man. How many? He'd lost count. Beautiful women – so many, that did it really matter if he broke a few hearts? There was really only one he wanted, and he couldn't have her. Layla, Layla Starr.
Sure, Patrick believed he knew why Layla had married Edward when she could have had him; it was for his money! He couldn't really hold that against her. "Why, I would have done the same thing, given the opportunity," he told himself. Now, however, that she was free again, he couldn't quite understand why she chose to ignore his advances. "She's just playing hard to get, that's it. Fucking women, they'll do that to you."'
Layla still wanted him, he was certain of that. Yes, even at the funeral when he had held her close to comfort her, he knew it as her breasts rubbed up against him. She needed him. He just needed to convince her to come to him sooner rather than later. "Women need men; they're all the same; they need a good hard fucking," he knew that. "Some times they just don't realise what they really want, that's the problem, " Patrick would say. Patrick knew.
They had met a year prior to Layla's marriage. At first, she had seemed impressed with his charm and good looks, not to mention his stamina and virility. That, however, was before Edward had come on the scene.
"How could an old man like that satisfy a woman like Layla?" he often wondered. A woman with such a delicious sexual appetite, and a craving for the perverse and unusual. It amazed and frustrated Patrick that they seemed so happy together. "I tell you, it's all just a big fucking front," he would tell people, when the topic of the oddly matched Starrs arose at diner parties and such.
Patrick had been captivated by Layla from the moment they met one evening, at a mutual friend's house. When the hostess offered to call a taxi for Layla, that was an opportunity Patrick couldn't let pass. "Please, allow me to drive you home," he said, flashing her one of his famous smiles.
She accepted.
On the way home they had talked. Patrick told her all about himself. Of course, he had been aware of all those subtle messages. The way she crossed her legs. The way she smiled. Little things that he prided himself in noticing.
Upon arriving at her home, he had done the gentlemanly thing and walked around to open her car door, however as she stepped out he had pushed her down on the car hood, holding his body down on her.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!"
"Just shut up bitch. I know what you want!" he told her, grabbing the inside of her right thigh, then rubbing his fingers up between her stockinged legs.
Layla struggled to free herself, then slapped him hard across his face.
For a fleeting moment, he was stunned. His cheek stung. He hesitated, lifting himself off her, then grinning, responded by pressing his lips down hard against hers, and forcing his tongue deep inside her warm mouth.
She thrashed about, trying to push him off, but his strength overpowered her. She bit down. A muffled cry escaped him and he immediately pulled away, reeling back in pain.
"That's what you get for trying to mess with Layla," she told him with a smug grin as she watched his face contort in pain.
Wiping his fingers across his lips, he realised the bitch had drawn blood. He took a deep breath. He lunged forward and grabbed the front of her blouse, ripping it wide open, to confirm what he already suspected; she wasn't wearing a bra.
Layla gasped and glared at him. Her body visibly tensed as she stood there, her naked breasts rising and falling with each hot breath. Then, using both hands, she grabbed at his belt and began franticly unbuckling it…
For the next six weeks they had been almost inseparable, then Edward appeared. Within weeks, she lost all interest in her latest young stud, who was left shattered and bewildered. "And just when she was beginning to learn exactly how to please me," he told himself.
Within a month she had married the older and wiser Edward. His sexual prowess had simply been no match for the younger and less experienced Patrick.
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