I've read the second book. Fuck. I hate it. Why must there always be a break-up to provide drama? Why can't couples fight about something trivial, like who left the empty milk carton in the fridge or something? And damn it, Nora! Get your freakin act together! When the stock character bitch gives you a black eye, you set her house on fire, you idiot! When she steals your super sexy boyfriend/guardian angel, you give them both hell to pay! In fact, why the hell did you fire Patch in the first place and torment him knowing his situation?

The reason I'm writing this is because… UST. In the Jeep. After the Devil's Handbag. Also, in that precious gem of jealousy involving Scott. (SO MUCH) No more fics after this though.

SMUT ALERT.If reading that didn't get you excited, then I recommend you hit that back button now. Or browse my profile for the other Hush, Hush fic I've written.

Hush, Hush © Becca Fitzpatrick [AU, both human]

After junior year, Nora begged her mother to let her find her own place. While her mother was reluctant at first, she finally agreed after Patch's—ahem—persuasion. So with Patch's physical and financial help, Nora scraped together the money to rent a one-bedroom condo in walking distance from her school. Under one condition: Patch lived there, too.

You have your own place, Nora had said. But no, Patch responded, it's pretty swanky, y'know, so I'll just live with you instead.

Patch grinned as he replayed that conversation in his head, fumbling for the keys in pocket. It had been a long day at . . . at work, and he was eager for some fun. Nora was always fun.

He burst through the door of their shared apartment, shouting, "I'm home, Nora! Let's do it!"

Silence.

Patch waited for a moment, eager to hear then possibly see her heated reaction. Sometimes it took her a while to respond, a while to process what he had said, then the connotations. . . but . . . there was nothing. How could she miss what he'd said? He'd made it very clear, right?

When he tip-toed into the living room, his heart stopped.

Cute.

Nora sprawled out on the couch in one of his collared shirts and pastel colored underwear (oh, he remembered when they bought those). A heavy textbook lay open and pressed face down against her smooth torso. Her arm rested over her forehead and her eyes and her mouth lolled open. One cream and slender leg hooked over the back of the couch, giving Patch a fantastic view.

So cute.

Setting down his rucksack, Patch plucked the textbook from her belly and regarded it curiously. Calculus. Ahh. . .

Slowly, he unhooked her smooth leg, resisting the urge to stroke it. Nora groaned and stretched, raising her tummy to the ceiling and flinging her arms back.

Patch froze.

Nora mumbled something and rolled over, one arm dangling off the edge of the couch.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Patch gently slid his arms under her and lifted her. At snail's pace, he made his way to their shared bedroom and placed her down gently on the comforter. He briefly wondered if she'd get cold like that, but then again, she'd been through worse. On the other hand, Nora was pretty much passed out. Just to be safe, he covered her with her old patchwork quilt.

Patch trekked back to the living room to get his rucksack then frowned, rubbing at the front of his jeans. He wasn't kidding when he said he wanted to do it.

Nora had been preparing for her final and AP exams for about two months. As time passed, she got busier and busier and it wasn't long before she was napping every day when Patch came home.

Not that the sight of her sleeping body didn't make him happy (hush, not like that) but now that the worry of being caught was all but eliminated. . . he really wanted her to be awake when he buried himself in her and when he made her cry his name again and again—

Sighing, Patch sauntered to the bathroom, unzipping his jeans as he went.

[Exactly Two Weeks Later]

Nora breathed a sigh of relief as she walked home. All of her exams were over and done. For the next week, she planned not to metaphorically shove the thought of school out the window in her mind and figuratively shove all her school materials in her side of the closet at home.

As she opened the door to her condo, Nora was greeted with a tight hug from her boyfriend. Why was he sweaty…?

"Hi, Patch. You're home early today."

He buried his head in the crook of her neck and nuzzled. His hands moved to slide her book-bag from her shoulders, but didn't stop there. They continued their journey downwards, down her torso. They hands paused at her hips and gripped them tightly. Nora could feel his lean fingers pressing against her hip bones.

"Patch?"

"I feel neglected."

His tone made her gulp. Gravelly and deep and lower than usual, almost sultry. Chills ripped through her spine.

She summoned all her willpower and strength to push him away so she could take off her shoes and do that other thing she was supposed to do. What was it again…?

"Of course you feel neglected," she said simply. "I've been studying for quite a while."

He stalked after her into the kitchen, like a fox does its prey. Nora's hand hovered above the handle of the fridge door as she felt the heat roll off of Patch's body in waves, crashing and smothering her. Before she could open the fridge, Patch whirled her around and pressed her against the fridge, crushing his lips against hers, fueled by animalistic desire. His hands caught the small of her back, maneuvering it expertly so her legs were arranged parallel to his.

"Patch," she whispered as he skimmed her jaw line with his mouth, pressing soft kisses here and there. "Wait . . . P-Pa—hey. . ."

"No," he growled. His hands crept to her hips again, sliding under the hem of her shirt and up her sides. Nora shivered, feeling the calloused pads of his fingers brush against her sensitive skin. Patch's lips found the soft spot where her neck met her shoulder and he began to suckle.

Then he looked up at her, into her eyes. Nora almost gasped. His eyes were deep and smoldering with desire, intent on making her melt in his arms.

"I've been exceedingly patient, in my opinion. No more waiting, Angel."

Suddenly, his grip moved to wrap her legs around his waist. As an almost automatic response, she flung her arms around his neck, securely anchoring herself to him.

Patch sprinted to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

He pushed her into a sitting position on the bed, peppering sweet kisses down the column of her neck, sucking at her collarbone. Patch smirked against her soft skin—Nora was always so responsive to his touch. Her slender fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer and closer. A sharp jerk at the small of his back made him blissfully aware of her legs fastened round his hips.

Patch undid each little button on her shirt very slowly, kissing each patch of exposed skin as he went. "P-Patch. . ."

"Do you know how many days I spent waiting for you, wanting you?" he asked, his lips brushing lightly against her smooth belly. Grinning, he paused and looked up, relishing in her flushed expression. Breathing rapidly, she looked down at him with a hungry look in her eyes.

He freed himself from her grip and stretched out next to her, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. A very puzzled Nora rolled over to look at him.

"That wasn't rhetorical, by the way." Patch reached over to play with the thick locks of her hair. So curly, so bouncy, much like another part of Nora's body Patch just happened to love.

Nora sighed and cocked an eyebrow. Patch just smirked. Apparently, he was terribly oblivious as to how sexy that was.

Helpless against his charm, she leaned into him and pressed her lips against his. But before she could the heat and passion registered in her baffled mind, Patch had her pinned her against the sheets, holding her at arm's length. Loose hair fell in his face, darkening his face just enough to reveal his wicked grin.

When had he taken his shirt off?

"Fifty," he murmured. "That's longer than Noah's journey on the Ark. . ." Patch viciously ripped open her shirt, popping out the rest of the buttons. Her breasts strained against the lacy cups of her bra, moving dramatically with her heavy breathing. With a ghost of a smile on his face, Patch let his fingers wander over the lace pattern before pulling at the offensive garment, revealing her delicious cream mounds. The real thing was so much better—and softer—than what he'd imagined.

Nora cried out as Patch's lips seared her skin, sending a jolt of heat straight to her loins. His tongue swirled around one rosy nipple before covering it completely. The little bud hardened quickly beneath his touch. Smiling, Patch bit her lightly, earning himself a little shudder from the girl beneath him. His other hand sought out her other breast, kneading and squeezing. He knew all too well it would be followed by a wanton moan but . . .

Patch looked up briefly to see that Nora, hand clamped over her mouth, eyes were glazed with lust.

"Angel." Nora struggled to look at him, struggled to resist the throbbing between her loins. Finally, she locked gazes with Patch. What was that emotion in his eyes? Confusion? Disappointment?

"Let me hear you." Patch moved up to kiss her, fingers dancing sensuously on her hip, her soft skin. Her moans sent vibrations along her tongue to his, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins. Nora lifted her hips as Patch slid her scratchy jeans off her, stroking her legs as he went.

The silk of her panties were wet, soaked through completely. It rubbed against the front of Patch's own jeans, and although he couldn't feel it through the thick material of his pants, he knew for sure it was damp. And that was all he needed for his arousal to heighten. "Nora. . ."

Patch sat up suddenly and yanked off his jeans in desperation, revealing his blatant desire through his boxers. Giggling, Nora crawled along the comforter to straddle her boyfriend, tracing his jaw line and lower lip with her tongue.

"Getting bold, Angel. I like that," Patch groaned, cupping her ass cheeks tightly and grinding her down on his crotch. She bit back a moan, arching her back into him. Patch caught a hold of her nipple between his lips and swirled his tongue around the hardened bud.

Out of the blue, he stopped. Nora almost screamed.

"Patch!" He wore a smile that was all rogue.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Nora huffed. He was bluffing. Surely, he was bluffing. Patch was a lot more desperate than her, well, that's what she thought at the moment. In response, she grinded her crotch into his visible bulge deeply. Patch squeezed his eyes shut and an animalistic sound rumbled low in his throat. When he opened his eyes again, Nora swore she melted.

"That's it, Angel, you'll get it, I sw—" Nora shut him up with a kiss. Patch responded with an equal ferocity and pushed his hips up against hers, earning a gasp. His tongue glided over her lower lip and pushed it into her mouth to massage Nora's tongue. He explored every inch of her mouth carefully and slowly, as if he were committing it to memory. Grasping both of Nora's wrists in one hand, Patch gently pushed her backwards onto the bed.

Nora wanted to thread her fingers through his midnight locks, but found her wrists were caught and bound to the bedpost. When did that happen?

"Patch, I didn't know you were into that," she panted. Patch cracked a toothy grin.

"I'm into being in you, Angel," he breathed, licking the shell of her ear. She shivered. His fingers hooked in the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her long legs, flinging it into some unknown corner of the room. Good riddance, he thought. Then it was his turn. Hooray for nudity.

Nora pressed her dripping core against Patch's now bare erection, relishing in the touch, the heat, the mere contact. Patch groaned and pressed his hips down against hers, hoping the temporary friction would relieve the unbelievable pressure building up in his system. Building up now, building up for a few months. . .

"Ahh, Patch. . ."

"Stop enticing me, Angel." Nora didn't realize it, but Patch was shaking to keep his control. Despite the sheen of sweat on her skin, he rubbed his entire body against hers, like a cat, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck. It was moments like this that he really loved—tangled up with his Angel in the bed they shared, making love, skin on skin, heart to heart. As much as he'd like to lie there forever, however, his body had its own thoughts. . .

In an instant, the two locked gazes. Beads of sweat rolled off Patch's forehead as he moved forward with careful deliberation, thrusting into Nora's slick heat. Tilting her head back, she opened her mouth in a silent moan and arched her back up off the bed, rubbing her breasts against Patch's hard chest.

No matter how many times Patch took her, Nora could never get used to the amazing feeling of being complete, being filled to the brim with Patch.

Also, it didn't help that they hadn't had sex for almost three months, either. . .

"Breathe, Angel, breathe," Patch murmured, thrusting deeper and deeper with each stroke. Nora inhaled sharply, eyes glassy with what threatened to be tears.

With each push, Nora felt her insides twist and wind into an impossibly tight coil, threatening to explode at any moment. Her fingers curled, nails digging into her palms so hard it almost broke skin. Her legs, on either side of Patch's hips, trembled in anticipation.

"P-Patch, I need. . ."

"Angel." One hand moved to her breasts, stroking them tenderly; the other hand moved to where they were connected. The pad of his thumb rubbed her glistening nub until Nora was screaming out loud. Motivated by her response, Patch squeezed and rolled her clit between his thumb and forefinger. Her already tight muscles held him in a vice-like grip, so impossibly tight that Patch felt himself losing control.

"Ahh, Patch, please, I-I. . .." Her moans slowly escalated into ear-piercing shrieks. Her inner muscles rippled around his length until he couldn't take it any longer. He plunged deeper, harder, faster, pushing her to the brink of ecstasy. With one long scream, Nora arched into a back-breaking bend, wound so tight that if she relaxed, she'd turn into Jello.

"Fuck—Mmm, Nora. . ." Bright spots exploded in her vision and all she could register was Patch, where his body met hers and his expression of pleasure.

Then there was nothing.

Nora woke up the next morning to find Patch's rock solid arms wrapped around her waist and something else rather solid poking into the small of her back. Rolling over, she caught Patch staring at her, eyebrow cocked and a fox smile blatant on his face.

"Hey, Angel. I didn't know your voice went that high," he remarked. Heat rushed to Nora's face and as she tensed up to hit his chest, Patch caught her wrists in one hand—much like the other night—and kissed her deeply, melting away all of her resistance.

"You think you can do it again?"

"Patch!"