The kiss tasted of pure frustration and anger mixed with the repulsive smell of alcohol. Ore nearly threw up as she pulled back staring wildly at the way Patrick was staggering here and there. His loosened tie dangled from his neck and the corporate shirt he was wearing looked soiled with ashes from a cigarette.

"Where the hell have you been?" Ore asked wrinkling her nose as she guarded him into her house and locked the door. Patrick almost doubled over but Ore used all the strength she had in her to buckle his heavy weight.

Patrick plopped on the bed, his long dreads falling over his handsome face. Ore stilled as she took off one of Patrick's black laced shoes. His wide palm was closed over hers and he gazed at Ore so intently that she had to suck in a sharp breath.

His lips were rounded in a small cute pout as a wide smile lighted up his exhausted face. Ore shoved Patrick's hands away and hurriedly untied his other shoe lace. She placed them on the shoe rack and made to take unbutton his shirt. But his heated gaze was making her a bit uncomfortable.

She frowned, wondering what Patrick had been thinking all the while he drank himself to stupor. Patrick traced his fingertips over Ore's warm skin as he caressed her with his brown eyes that glowed partly. Ore's gaze shyly fell on the button she was about removing. However, Patrick wasn't letting her off the hook so easy, he lifted her chin subtly and looked absently at her.

"Can I fuck you please?" Patrick asked his deep voice raspy with need. From the spaced out look on his face, Ore knew that he was over the edge and couldn't possibly recognize her. She shrugged his hands off her as she shakily unbuttoned his shirt. Ore felt a familiar tug in her heart as Patrick softly whimpered.

She tore the sweaty clothing away from his body and gulped staring down at his rock hard abs. Patrick's head was thrown back, his Adam apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. "You're looking at me like you want to eat me. I am here offering my fucking self to you and you're refusing," Patrick spoke, his speech slurred.

Ore gasped as Patrick used his right leg to push her night gown to the side revealing her brown skinned laps. He hummed in delight smirking at the way Ore was fighting for control. Her lips quivered as she threw his shirt on the floor and proceeded to take off his slacks.

"Easy there, sugar," he purred close to Ore's ears. Ore gritted her teeth in a bid to resist the intimate effect Patrick was having on her. His hairy chest rose and fell as he ruffled his hair and yawned. Ore quickly stood up from her side of the bed and ordered Patrick to take off his pants that she needed to soak it in a bucket.

Patrick laughed, his vibrant voice piercing into the still night. Ore rushed to slid her silk curtains close before one of her nosy neighbors would peek from her windows. The room was engulfed in complete darkness save for the moonlight filtering through. Ore patted the reading table for her phone and immediately put on the light.

Patrick was standing by the side of the wall stark naked with his briefs held outstretched. Ore heaved a deep sigh, her hands finding her eyes for cover.

"Please put on some clothes," she begged gesturing to the wardrobe. Ore licked her lips waiting to hear a creaking sound followed by a loud slam and a swish of clothing before she opened her eyes relieved to see Patrick in one of her tight boxer shorts.

She took his dirty clothes in hand and headed for the bathroom. "Aren't you going to have a shower?" Ore asked trying to be motherly as she poured detergent in a bucket of water.

"No," came the gruff reply from Patrick. Ore shrugged. It was his body not hers, she thought nonchalantly. She had done enough already. Ore rinsed her hands under the running tap and cleaned it on her towel. As soon as she got out of the bathroom, she spotted Patrick fondling his hard on erection.

Ore swore under her breath, throwing a blanket to cover him. She brought out a small sized foam from the cupboard and laid it on the floor. She breathed, studying how compressed it was.

"I will sleep here," she finally announced to Patrick who was eyeing her warily.

"Can I have a blowjob at least?" He asked furrowing his brows. Ore smacked her forehead for the umpteenth time. "Can you just stop saying those vile words in my house? I wasn't the one who asked you to go out drinking in good knows where and then dumping your sorry ass at my door," Ore tumbled in a rush, stopping to catch a breath.

"You should drink responsibly and be able to garner yourself as a man." Ore sighed frustratingly beginning to feel stress lines forming on her forehead.

"Let me sleep please." Ore laid her bed for once appreciating the terse silence. She caught the way Patrick blinked repeatedly as if in a daze. The next thing she knew, he was rushing to the bathroom to heave in the sink. Ore hissed mumbling nonsense to herself.

She was finding it hard to understand how Patrick had somehow located her door in a lodge containing over fifty five rooms. Ore tried to think hard on it as she made herself comfortable on the foam with a pillow she'd collected from the bed, underneath her head.

She sure as hell didn't tell Patrick her room number, so how the hell had he found out? Ore questioned worriedly in her mind. Patrick continued to throw up in the bowl and when he was done, he rinsed his mouth and took a cold shower. His head was banging wildly like he had been stabbed with a thousand needles.

He tied Ore's fluffy towel around his waist as he frantically looked around for a painkiller. "What are you looking for?" Ore enquired with a sleepy voice. Patrick stopped scattering something resembling a wooden cupboard in the room and scratched his head nervously. He was obviously trying to avoid Ore's gaze.

"I am having a really nasty headache," he stated sweetly. "Do you have any panadol?" Ore snorted, tiredly getting up to hand him the panadol packet she'd placed in her bag for safekeeping. She popped two tablets into his palm and handed him a glass of water.

Patrick held her firmly as she turned to leave. He struggled to say something, anything to hide his embarrassment but no sound came out of his mouth. He released Ore but not before batting his thick dark lashes.

"Goodnight Patrick!" Ore said with a note of finality. She stretched lazily on her bed and turned off the torchlight.

"Goodnight," Patrick reiterated.

He settled into the warm bed covers, staring mindlessly at the ceiling with his hand crossed on his bare chest. "Ore?" He called out thoughtfully.

Ore grunted from tossing and turning here and there. "Yes, what is it?" Her voice carried a hint of barely concealed annoyance and irritation.

"I am so sorry for causing you trouble. I didn't mean to, it's just I was thinking about how I wouldn't have anyone to call a father in my life. I was really close to him you know, before he died." Patrick sniffed, a fat tear sliding from the corner of his eyes.

"I am sorry Patrick. I took all my frustration out on you not minding the fact that you were hurting. Do you miss your dad that much?" Ore asked as an afterthought.

"Very much," Patrick confirmed turning to stare at Ore who was huddled up in a blanket. "ummm," he cleared his throat. "Do you mind sleeping on the bed with me? The night is really cold."

Ore smiled faintly. "I can't Patrick, go to sleep now. We'll talk more tomorrow okay?"

Patrick gulped scratching the light stubble on his chin and running a hand frustratingly through his dreaded hair. "Will your roommate be back this night?"

"Huh?" Ore asked perplexed. "How did you know I have a roommate?"

Patrick snickered. "I just guessed sha. Goodnight dear." He yawned and closed his eyes picturing the image of his father stretching out a hand from the sky to lift his dampened spirit.

"I wish you were here father, I still have a lot of things to say to you," Patrick whispered faintly.

Ore's ears perked up at that and she rubbed her arms suddenly feeling a slight chill. "Is your offer for me to sleep on the bed still open?"

Patrick grinned boyishly as he made enough room for Ore.