Je t'aime, tu sais?

He gently pressed her into the wall outside her new apartment, easing her mouth open with his smile and making himself right at home.
He tangled his tongue with hers, savoring the sweet taste of her mouth and the slide of her teeth.
"Patrice," Jamie giggled when he took his tongue back and grumbled a laugh. His arms hung strongly at his sides, holding Whole Foods' reusable woven bags full of her possessions in the grips of his knuckles. He held her to the cream colored hallway wall with his chest, but was careful not to lean against her too hard; just enough to keep her right where he wanted her.
"What?" He laughed, looking down his nose at her smugly.
She crinkled her nose, looking up at him and pretending to scold him.
"Don't crinkle your nose at me," he chuckled, bending forward to bite the tip of it.
She gave a faint squeak and turned her head away from his attack. He was not deterred and pressed his face into the side of her cheek.
"Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?" Jamie giggled, quoting Shakespeare.
"Wha?" Patrice asked, pulling back and looking at her, chuckling.
"Nothing," she laughed, blushing furiously and turning from his puzzled look.
"No what was that," Patrice laughed, pursuing her blushing cheeks with his eager eyes and smile. He pressed his nose into the side of her cheek and his hot breath spread down her neck with his warm giggle.
"Nothing; it was nothing," she protested, squirming and laughing all the same.
"It was something," he said, pressing his torso and hips into hers too, pinning her up against the wall more strongly. She was in a giggle fit now, trying to escape his attack of kisses, but was also growing warm not only with embarrassment of quoting Shakespeare without a second thought but also with his hard, toned body pressed against hers.
"Patrice!" She squealed.
"What?" He laughed, giving her a break and moving his face away from hers. She took the opportunity to look up at him and smile. She bowed her head in a gentle blush and leaned her forehead to his chin.
He softly kissed her brow, so lovingly in fact that she melted into her arms and wrapped them around his coat-clad chest, weaving them between his arms and his sides.
She hugged him close.
"I can't believe you still love me after all I've done to you today," Jamie joked, giving him a devilish grin. She lifted her head to look up at him.
"Don't say that," he said quietly, bending forward to kiss the top of her head. "Even if you're joking," he smiled, as if reading her mind.
"You're still going to want to break in my new place tonight?" She asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked back up at him.
"If there's ever I time I say 'no' to that question, my dad keeps a gun under the pull out sofa in the basement; I want you to shoot me with it--"
"Patrice!" Jamie chuckled, pushing his stomach as he chuckled.
He rebounded right back into her, pressing his whole body up along hers. He breathed heavily along her hairline and sensually kissed her temple.
The elevator at the other end of the hall way dinged and Jamie turned to look, hoping it would be Emily.
She and Patrice had dropped off their groceries for dinner earlier to a very grateful and hungry Emily, who happily demolished the grapes in one sitting as her older sister and Patrice unloaded the rest of their food. Then, because Patrice had the day off, he offered to help Jamie collect some of her things from her Harvard apartment to move into her and Emily's new home.
After they had made love in every single room in her tiny apartment as a fond farewell to the place, they packed up as much as they could and made their way back to the girls' new place for their first of three trips.
Every time they returned to Jamie's old apartment, Patrice managed to seduce her into loving him in different places, like the floor of her living room after they had rolled up and moved the rug so she wouldn't get rug burn, or propped up on the closed toilet, where he insisted that because her legs could hang down on either side of his hips unlike they could when he sat on a bed, he'd reach deeper inside her.
Needless to say, he was very, very, very right on that one.
Jamie didn't yet have a key, so their third and final trip had been halted by Emily's late dismissal from a dance work out at the gym across from the TD Garden. Now, they stood outside the girls' new apartment with a few boxes scattered at their feet and a standing lamp, Patrice growing hungrier for sustenance and romance with every minute.
"Patrice, it's not Emily!" Jamie whispered urgently, pushing on his hard chest.
He chuckled, his lazy eyes never leaving her panicked smile and whispered back to her in French, announcing he didn't care who it was, and pulling his flat brimmed baseball hat to the side to hide their faces as his lips looked for her yet again.
Jamie squirmed, laughing all the while but remaining steadfast in her prudence.
"Mon amour!" She whispered only slightly more severely, stamping her foot, and turning to try and identify the man making his way down the hallway. He held a six pack of beer.
"Amour!" Patrice chuckled back, mimicking her, nudging her with his nose and holding the lobe of her ear between his playful teeth. He smoothed it with his tongue and then gave it a gentle suck. He was satisfied that he could feel the tiny blonde hairs that disappeared from her hairline onto her cheek rise and bristle with pleasure. He was 100% sure that if he had a free hand he'd be mauling her chest, so he thanked whatever God there was that he had his hands full.
He grazed his lips all the way down from her ear and pushed his lips to hers again, even though she was hesitant. She had been this whole time but every time he could get her mouth just the slightest bit apart and poke his tongue in she always loosened up, melting into him and--
"Well I be damned," the man in the hall boomed. "Patrick Cleary?!"
Patrice groaned onto Jamie's lips, as if he knew the man.
With the mention of his nickname, he resentfully pulled away from Jamie and let his head fall back on his shoulders, knowing he had been caught. In his flash of movement, Jamie could see the pink in his cheeks and was satisfied that he had embarrassed himself and then remembered that she too should be embarrassed and bit her lip. She studied his exposed neck, his chin held high in the air to demonstrate his frustration, and she noticed that she kind of liked his black, flat-brimmed baseball hat just slightly tipped up and to the side.
Now that he had--much to her prudent dismay--officially turned her on, she couldn't help but want to savagely attack his neck, kissing underneath his chin until her lips were raw from his 5 o'clock shadow. She imagined shoving her hand down his belted black jeans and pressing her chest into his torso, maybe even grabbing his tight ass with her other hand and imagined and remembered what he sounded like when his breath hitched in the back of his throat.
Or that guttural noise that had ripped through his body when he came as she rode him in the bathroom earlier. Or the huff of his ribs gliding beneath his skin as he gulped for air, the pulse of his manhood weakening inside her, or the little sigh that whispered its way through his lips as he leaned back against the tiled back of the toilet.
"Excuse me ma'am, is this man bothering you?" a familiar face asked Jamie, slinging his arm around Patrice's shoulder as Patrice groaned and let his head fall back on his teammate's arm. Jamie jumped, startled awake from her daydream.
The red head gave a hearty laugh.
"I don't believe we've met," the hulking man smiled, giving her a wink. "But I'm Shawn, and there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that you are Ms. Jamie Delacour," he said, extending his hand.

Shawn Thornton had what Jamie could only describe as a shit eating grin on his face as they shook hands. Something told her that her beau wouldn't be living this one down very easy, or any time soon.
"What are you doing here?" Patrice sighed, pulling his head back up and giving the man he affectionately called Thorty a sharp look with a pointed eye brow.
A door on the other side of the hall opened up and Dougie Hamilton's head emerged, as did the question "Thorty?"
"Oh get out of town!" Patrice howled, snapping his head in the direction of Dougie with a wild smile.
"Bergy?" Adam asked, stepping out from behind Dougie and into the hallway and looking just as confused as his roommate.
The elevator dinged again and opened the door to reveal Emily.
"Hey guys!" She cheered. "Wait--Dougie? Adam?" She shouldered her gym bag and made her way down the hall with a confused look. Adam abruptly stood, awkwardly scratching the back of his head and quickly slipped his sweat pant clad self back into his apartment, behind Dougie, blushing furiously and mumbling something.
"Aw, were you guys going to surprise me?" She joked, pretending to be all bashful. She locked her fingers together and held them under her chin as if to cherish the moment.
"Who are you?" Both she and Shawn asked as she got closer to the group, pointing to one another and looking at their apparent mutual friends.
"You've gotta be sisters," Shawn questioned allowed, looking back and forth between Jamie and Emily until Patrice gave him a nod.
"What are all you guys doing in are hall?" Dougie asked, lifting his palms in innocence. He wore jeans that hung low around his waist line and a Bruins t-shirt. "Are you guys moving in with us?" He asked with a giggle, nodding to all of Jamie's things.
"I just caught these two sucking face," Thorty laughed, pointing over his shoulder, taking the opportunity to make Patrice blush again. The two protested.
"We were NOT!" Patrice sighed, frustratedly
"Sucking face?!" Jamie asked, disgusted. The hall grew with noise, with each person fighting their own battle and lots of laughter.
"What is going on!?" Emily finally asked, raising her hands. She was still in her workout clothes, dark grey leggings hugging her pin-thin thighs and cutting off mid-calf. Her baggy black sweatshirt lifted with her raised shoulders to reveal a slender slice of her thin stomach. Her kinky hair was tied up in a high, messy bun, unlike the ballerina one she normally slicked her curls back into.
Jamie noticed Adam had noticed, and when she awkwardly made eye contact with him, he cleared his throat, nervously and slunk further behind Dougie in the safety of their apartment.
"We live here!" Both sides of the hallway exclaimed.
"Well, I don't... but..." Patrice mumbled sheepishly after jumping in with Jamie. They chuckled.
"We're seriously neighbors?" Emily gasped, facing Dougie and Adam. "We've been texting this entire week when literally we could've walked across the hall and hung out?!" She said, excited.
"Well come over now!" Dougie yelled, jumping excitedly away from the door to make room. He bumped Adam who immediately cleared their entrance way.
"Hell, I already have the beer!" Thorty annouced, holding the six pack over his head. "We were going to watch the Celts game anyway... May need more beer though," he nodded, examining his Brooklyn Lager.
"More the merrier; Adam and I made sick nachos," Dougie mused, wiggling his eyebrows and rubbing his stomach.
In the back Jamie could watch Adam briskly make his way to his room to change.

Adam watched them from his seat in the recliner in his living room.
He felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Something that made him hot and see red. Something that made him sad but at the same time apathetic. Something that confused him and kept him awake at night as he lay shirtless and tangled in his sheets, sweating.
"I don't know why he likes to sit like this so much," Jamie laughed, blushing a bit as she motioned towards Patrice sitting on the floor in front of her.
Patrice sat with his long legs stretched out in front of him, his sock clad toes pointed towards the TV. His back rested on the front of the couch, between Jamie's legs. She had one curled behind his neck on the cushion where she sat behind him, and the other draped over his shoulders. He licked his fingers and sucked on his thumb, cleaning them after he had devoured the plate of pulled pork nachos that now sat empty and alone on his lap. With his other hand, he Jamie's knee, resting bent over his shoulder. Occasionally he would run his hand up and down her corduroy pants.
Patrice didn't even notice everyone laughing at him. He continued to suck the grease off of his fingers and watch the replay of LeBron James falling to his knees intently, absentmindedly tracing Jamie's shin bone.
Adam huffed, sinking further into his leather recliner. He pushed a chip around his plate with little to no appetite.
"He needs practice with your legs wrapped around his neck," Thorty chirped from the other recliner across from Adam and adjacent to the couch Jamie occupied with Dougie.
"Oh my god!" Dougie cried, scrunching up his nose and covering his mouth.
"What!" Jamie laughed, blushing profusely as Thorty shot her a wink.
Adam gave a little chuckle, smiling enough to slide a particularly cheesy nacho through his otherwise gritted teeth.
"You're quiet over there, Quaider," Shawn called across the room. "Drink up!" He instructed, leaning over the arm of his chair and finding a beer. He passed it to Dougie who passed it to Jamie who passed it down to Patrice who twisted off the cap with the palm of his hand and passed it to Adam without ever breaking his eye contact with the TV.
Patrice was perfect.
But why was he feeling like this around Patrice and Jamie?
None of it really made sense to him.
He gazed at his Dogfish Head beer, thumbing the label as it pealed from the cool condensation forming under the paper.
The door to their apartment slid open and Emily let herself in.
Adam took a mighty swig of his beer.
"Hey," she breathed, walking into the living room as she tied up her hair.
Adam tried to say hay but his voice cracked. He immediately cleared his throat and tried again. "Hey," he said, looking up at her.
She smiled down at him; one of those big smiles that showed both her top and bottom teeth. She was in some dark grey Lululemon yoga pants and a tank top with what his little sister used to call spaghetti straps. It was white and held her chest tightly. Wrapped around her small arms and torso was a Boston Ballet zip up hoodie. On her feet were the lightest pink socks he had ever seen. They were so thin he could tell her toes were painted underneath.
"He-ey," Dougie sang, waving to her from the couch. "Grab a plate," he said, motioning behind him.
"Oh, I'm not hungry," she laughed, blushing a bit.
"So nice of you to dress up, Em!" Patrice teased from the floor.
"Did you loose your couch privileges again, Patrice?" Emily asked, putting her hands on her hips as if reprimanding a young child.
"Ooh," Thorty laughed, standing to hand her a beer.
"Oh, uhm, thanks but, I have to get up early tomorrow," she said. "Dance," she shrugged in response to Thorty's frown. He thought for a moment and then nodded in approval. Em played with the sleeve of hoodie, pulling it down one of her slender shoulders a bit.
"Come sit!" Dougie instructed, thumping the open spot between him and Jamie.
She looked over her now bare shoulder at Adam and as he instinctually returned the smile he understood what he was feeling...
Emily stepped over Patrice's legs and plopped onto the couch, picking up her tiny feet from the carpeted floor and placing them on the cushion and wrapping her arms around her bent legs.
Her and Dougie shared a laugh and then she leaned over towards Jamie to whisper something to her.
She made eye contact with him and he couldn't look away, no matter how warm he became and nervous he felt.
Adam McQuaid was jealous.