𝒹𝑜𝓁𝑜𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝒾𝑜𝓇 .•* PATRICK BATEMAN

4. I think I might hurt you

Patrick Bateman lived in a gorgeous penthouse at the top of one of the most prime buildings in the area.  The furnishing was gorgeous, and so well kept it could've been in a magazine. The building was largely white.

You thought you lived somewhere nice, but it made your house look like a slum.

You sat down at the little bar separating his kitchen from his living room and watched him pace around the area. Patrick opened the fridge slightly before pausing, turning to the sink instead.

Patrick turned on the tap and filled a glass cup little more than half way, offering it to you. It seemed strange for someone like him to be offering tap water, but beggars were not about to be choosers. He stood over you as you sipped the drink, your curious eyes taking him fully in.

"Did you always live somewhere like this?" you asked, continuing to eye up the room. He had priceless art peppering the walls and a large bookcase in the living room. It was filled to the brim with titles you couldn't quite read.

"Yes. I was born into this lifestyle, and I don't intend to leave it."

"If you've got it, you might as well take advantage of it," you replied with a soft smile. "What made you pick Pierce and Pierce?"

You were a little jealous, having to work all your life just to be able to afford a fraction of this, but as you scanned the room, something about his house felt... lonely. No photos of family as far as you could see, no knickknacks hinting to a colorful past. Almost no color, and so much open space.

For just a moment, you wondered if there really was nothing more to him. If all he was was surface level and small talk, just like everyone else you seemed to meet in this corporate world. Presentation with no substance. To say you felt disappointed was an understatement.

"I could ask the same about you," Patrick replied with a smile, although he wasn't going to. "My father practically owns the company.  I was a shoo in."

"Wouldn't you rather be somewhere that's a challenge?" you asked, your eyes widening.

Sure, if you had an easy in somewhere you'd probably take it, but Bateman gave you the impression he was someone who liked to impress. He seemed like someone who would aim higher (although there were few places higher than Pierce and Pierce to begin with) just to say he made it.

"I find that intellectual stimulation is more important outside of the workplace than within," Patrick replied simply. That checked out, considering all of the reading he may or may not do. "Second only to physical stimulation, of course."

He leaned in closer towards you, a lustful glint in his eyes. You felt blood rushing to your head, eyes widening. You swallowed, liquid courage allowing you to lean further over the table as well, softly replying, "Do you tend to keep business and pleasure separate?"

"'Tend to', yes. But I'd be glad to make an exception, just this once."

And all of the sudden, the two of you closed the gap, lips intertwined with each other. His were soft and perfectly shaped, moving delicately with yours. A strong hand gripped your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his as you pressed up on the table, giving you leverage. Everywhere he touched you was warm.

When he pulled away, you were afraid to open your eyes in case somehow you were dreaming.  But he was still there, smiling dotingly at you.

"How would you like to move this to the bedroom?" he asked, stepping around the counter and holding out a hand.

He certainly didn't have to ask you twice.

The minute you laid down on the bed, he was on top of you, pinning you down.  He leaned down to kiss you passionately, rough, almost taking you like he was desperate.  As your hands tangled in his perfect hair, you weren't complaining, basking in the attention he was giving you.