We are taking book requests on our companion website. You can request books here. Make sure, you are following the rules.

The Way I Hate Him: Chapter 18

HATTIE

Maggie: HE WHAT?!?!

I curl up on my bed, knowing it’s late, but I can’t possibly sleep, not after the night I had. I texted Maggie the moment I got home, and thankfully, she was still awake.

Hattie: You read that right, he dragged his tongue over my slit and then said I was fucking delicious.

Maggie: Call the fucking fire department because my nether regions are on fire.

Hattie: I think mine are still burning up. Every time I think about it, I get all . . . hot and tingly.

Maggie: I was hot and tingly the moment you told me he came in the grass. I don’t know why, but I find that incredibly erotic. Couldn’t come on you because you’re far too precious, so he came on the grass. Hot!

Hattie: It was really hot, the most intense sexual experience of my life, and he didn’t even penetrate me.

Maggie: Which can only mean one thing . . . you need to get over this whole taking it slow thing. You’re missing out, girl. Think of all the orgasms this man can deliver. They are world-class.

Hattie: I know. After tonight, I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold back.

Maggie: See, told you. Men like Hayes don’t come along very often. Take advantage of it.

Hattie: I really want to do this right, though. I don’t want to end up being another one of his roadies.

Maggie: You know that’s not the case. I doubt he’s had intimate conversations with those women. You’re different.

Hattie: I think I am too, but I want to be sure, you know?

Maggie: I get it. So how did the date end?

Hattie: We stared up at the stars a while longer. He told me about the meteor showers he used to watch, and then he took me back home. He walked me up to the front door, gently kissed me, and told me he’d see me tomorrow.

Maggie: What’s tomorrow?

Hattie: Apparently, I’m still working for him.

Maggie: Oh, what a shame.

Hattie: You don’t think it’s weird?

Maggie: Uh, co-workers to lovers, yeah, I’m not complaining about that. Don’t bend over in front of him too much, might entice him to plow you from behind.

Hattie: Seriously, what is wrong with you?

Maggie: Frankly, I don’t know. I think this business is getting the best of me. Plus I was reading a book one of the bridesmaids recommended to me about a hockey player and a ten-year age gap. **Whispers** He fucks her in her dorm. I’ve never been more turned on.

Hattie: What have you done to my best friend?

Maggie: She’s overworked, exhausted, and horny. This is what you get.

Hattie: Fair. Do you need help? I mean, I don’t really want to work with you, I’m too scared it could hurt our friendship, but I can always assist in any way you need.

Maggie: I appreciate it, but I think you’re right. We need to keep things separate. I’ll be okay. I have the next two days off, and I’m going to do nothing but read and binge Only Murders in the Building. Selena is queen.

Hattie: She is. Okay, I’ll let you get to sleep.

Maggie: I’m so happy for you and your clit. Live in the moment and don’t overthink it, okay?

Hattie: Thank you. Love you.

Maggie: Love you.


I THOUGHT WORKING with Hayes was distracting before, but now that he’s more comfortable with me in his house because we’re dating, seeing him walk around with his shirt off in nothing but a pair of jeans, strumming his guitar, I’m getting nothing done.

And I mean nothing.

“Can you put a godforsaken shirt on?” I yell over his guitar playing.

He pauses and looks up at me from where he’s sitting on the hearth in his lounge room.

Hair all mussed, no socks on, just jeans, and his perfectly toned chest on full display, he’s so handsome that it actually hurts to look at him.

“What?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I can’t focus with you playing your guitar shirtless, so if you would please go in your studio or dress yourself, that would be appreciated.”

The proudest of smiles crosses his face as he rests his arm on the top of his guitar and stares into my very soul with his alluring eyes. “Are you saying you’re having a hard time concentrating because you can’t stop staring at me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, and no, I don’t need you to rub it in.”

“Oh, I want to rub something, that’s for damn sure,” he says as he stands and sets his guitar down.

“Stop right there, mister,” I say, holding my hand up. “There will be no touching or humping while I’m on the job. I will not be paid for sex.”

“Fine, you’re fired. I’ll rehire you after.” He steps over a pile of papers, and I stand, backing away.

“I’m serious, Hayes.”

His eyes are hungry and dangerous. “So am I.”

Oh dear God.

He lunges toward me, and I scoot out of the way, a scream falling off my tongue as I run behind the kitchen island.

He glances in my direction, hair falling over his forehead, determination clear. “Hattie,” he says, straightening up. “We can either do this the easy way or the hard way.” He walks toward the kitchen, his jeans loose on his narrow, ripped waist, his chest proud, and those boulder-like arms pulling my attention. He’s so hot.

And I’m just distracted enough to forget I’m keeping him away. He moves to my side of the island, and I quickly round the corner to the other side.

Both hands on the counter, palms flat against the cold surface, he stares me down. “Hattie, you won’t like what happens if you don’t give in easily.”

“Are you threatening me?” I ask, slowly backing up.

“I am,” he answers as he turns and runs toward me.

I scream and sprint down the hallway, his footsteps close behind, so close that I juke to the left to try to throw him off but realize it’s a huge mistake because I juked right into his bedroom. I pause for a millisecond to figure out what to do, but that’s all it takes. He scoops me up from behind and then tosses me on the bed.

Shocked, I look up to see him kneel on the bed and practically crawl toward me, looking like a desperate wolf about to eat his prey. I scoot back on my butt and hands until I reach the headboard.

“Nowhere to go,” he says as he grabs my ankles and yanks me between his legs where he presses his weight on top of me.

Breathless, I say, “I did not come to your house to be sexualized, mister. I came to work.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot.” He lowers his head and speaks directly into my ear. “You’re fired.” And then his lips press against my neck.

I sigh into his touch as his hands work up my shirt, tugging the fabric until he can’t move it anymore. That’s when I lift, and he pulls it over my head, leaving me in nothing but my bra.

His mouth floats up to my jaw and then to my lips where he controls my mouth like he has done every other kiss he’s given me. Demanding. He’s possessive with his movements, reiterating the narrative that I belong to him and only him.

From the touch of his warm palm to the slickness of his mouth and the press of his bulge into me, there’s no way I could ever want anyone else, not when Hayes makes me light up like this in seconds.

He groans as he releases my mouth and then bites down on my neck, probably leaving another mark like he did the night before. I woke up this morning with several bite marks I had to cover up, marks I had no problem touching, marveling at.

He travels past my collarbone and then straight to the swell of my breasts. His hands fall to my A cups, and he squeezes them as he buries his face between them, licking, sucking, biting.

He’s ravenous.

“Jesus,” I whisper as I grip the back of his head, my hips now seeking some relief.

He pulls back, flips one of the cups of my bra down, exposing my breast. “Fucking hell,” he mutters right before he laps at my nipple with the tip of his tongue. The sensation immediately causes me to buck up my hips.

“Yes,” I say, wanting so much more.

“You like that?” he asks as he moves to the other breast.

“Yes,” I answer, squirming beneath him.

“Are you wet?” He’s flicking so rapidly that I don’t even have to check. I know I am.

“Yes,” I cry out when his teeth tug on my nipple.

“Good,” he says as he sucks my nipple between his lips and then releases me, pushing all the way back and leaving me there, stunned.

He gets off the bed, the bulge in his pants unmistakable as he tugs on his hair.

“What are you doing?” I ask, sitting up on my elbows.

“I told you, you could come to me the easy way or the hard way. You chose the hard way, so now you’ll have to live with the consequences.”

He turns away from me and heads out of his bedroom.

I’m so quick out of the bed that he barely leaves the room before I tug on his hand, spinning him toward me. He presses his hand to my stomach and pins me against the wall.

“Do you have a problem?” he asks.

“Yes,” I answer, the wind nearly knocked out of me. “You can’t just leave me like this.”

“You should have thought about that earlier,” he says as he rubs his nose across my cheek, still turning me on.

Two can play this game.

As he moves his nose over my jaw, I reach down between us and cup him in my palm.

“Motherfucker,” he whispers as he rests his forehead against my cheek.

“You need this just as much as I do,” I say, bringing my other hand to his jeans and undoing them.

“Shit.” He breathes heavily just as I push at his jeans, and they fall past his ass. He lifts, his eyes locking with mine, and before I can take another breath, he’s slipping his fingers past the waistband of my spandex shorts and peeling them down my body until I step out of them. Once free, his hands grip my thong-covered ass, and he lifts me against the wall, only to settle me right over his cock. The only thing between us is the fabric of our underwear.

“Hayes, you’re so huge,” I say as he lifts my arms, and then pins them against the wall above my head.

He thrusts his hips into me, and I wrap my legs around his waist, holding him close, the friction between us already hot, already bringing me to the edge.

“I can’t fucking wait to get inside this pussy,” he says, thrusting harder. “I’m going to destroy it.”

His mouth finds mine, and he parts my lips with his tongue before diving it against mine. He releases one of my hands, grips my cheek, and angles my mouth better.

“Ride me,” he says.

I slip my arm around his neck for more support, and then I lift up and slam down.

“Fucking yes,” he grunts as a wave of arousal beats with my pulse, running rampant through every last inch of my body.

Continuing the same movement, I find his lips and continue our kiss, rubbing against him, letting the outline of his length bring me higher and higher to the point of no return.

God, I want his cock. And I know I said I was going to take this slow, but hell, what would it feel like to have him inside me, to see what he can do with all our clothes off?

Amazing. I know it would be.

I also want to feel his cock in my hands and my mouth. I want to run my tongue over it, suck the tip, play with his balls, make him so crazy with need that he can’t think of anyone else but me.

That he never wants anyone else . . . but me.

“Bite me,” I say as his mouth releases mine.

His teeth clamp over my shoulder, and he bites down hard, the sensation pouring through me like liquid lava. I’ve never had it this hard, this passionate before. It’s as if we’re both rabid for each other, unable to get enough or satisfy our need until we both fall over.

I pump harder over him, his body helping me. The girth of his cock rubbing over my clit gives me everything I need, lighting up my body and shooting it into a numb state where the muscles in my core pull and tighten.

“I’m . . . close,” I say, moving faster.

“Fuck, me too,” he grunts out, his breath heavy on my ear as his free hand clutches my ass, and he holds me in place against the wall as he pulses harder now, driving into me.

“Fuck, Hayes,” I say, my muscles tensing.

Thrust.

My stomach bottoms out.

Thrust.

My pussy clenches.

One more thrust.

And I shatter against him, my moan silenced by his mouth as he captures my lips again, driving his hips more and more and more until he tenses, groans against my lips, and then says, “Fucking hell . . .”

He stiffens and shudders against me while we both slow down and take deep, long breaths.

His forehead presses against mine, and he says, “I could get used to the dry-humping.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “And you were making fun of it.”

“Why dry-hump when you can have the real thing?”

“Because this drives the tension. Makes the need much higher.”

“Trust me, babe, the need is at an all-time high. Can’t get much needier over here.” He presses a chaste kiss to my lips as he lowers me. “But I’ll take what I can get. And what I can get is making me lose my mind.” He steadies me with both hands on my hips. “I need to go change.”

I smirk. “Make a mess, did you?”

“You did,” he says, tilting my jaw up and kissing me again. “You made this mess.”

“Uh, you’re the one who chased me.”

“And you were the one looking at me as if you could eat me right there on the floor,” he counters.

“And you’re the one walking around here without a shirt on, so . . . this is on you.”

“I’m only walking around without a shirt on because you came to my house, acting professional, as if I didn’t just make you come under the stars the night before. I needed to make sure you were still interested.”

“Needy much?” I ask, arms crossing in front of me.

“I think we went over this. When it comes to you, yes, I’m the neediest motherfucker you’ll ever meet.” He gives me one more kiss and then pulls away. He heads toward his dresser but looks over his shoulder and says, “By the way, you’re hired again. Now get to work.”

Smiling, I say, “I don’t think I can work under these conditions.”


HAYES: Why is your thong on my bed?

Hattie: In case you missed me tonight.

Hayes: Fuck, Hattie, you can’t do shit like that.

Hattie: Oh . . . was it weird?

Hayes: No, it was hot, and now I wish you were here.

Hattie: I wish I was too. Currently, Chewy Charles is gnawing at my feet and starting to get aggressive.

Hayes: Who’s Chewy Charles?

Hattie: Mac’s horse stuffy. According to Mac, he likes eating mold, and my toes are full of mold. Still trying to decide how I feel about that.

Hayes: Moldy toes, huh? Thank God I don’t have a foot fetish.

Hattie: Lucky you. Do you have any fetishes?

Hayes: Not really. I am sort of a boob guy, though.

Hattie: Ooof, sorry I can’t help you out in that department.

Hayes: What are you talking about? Your tits are perfect.

Hattie: They’re an A cup.

Hayes: I don’t care. They’re sexy as shit. Tight, little nipples that are super responsive. Perfect for me to play with. Hell, I’m getting hard just thinking about them.

Hattie: Really? I’ve never been a fan of my boobs.

Hayes: Well, baby, I’m their number one fan.

Hattie: That’s the third time you’ve called me baby.

Hayes: Better not have a problem with it.

Hattie: I don’t. Matt was never into terms of endearment.

Hayes: Was he into anything?

Hattie: Big boobs, which I didn’t have. He also really liked it when I’d pinch his scrotum.

Hayes: Wait? Really?

Hattie: No. LOL. But I wouldn’t put it past him if he developed a love for that. He was always weird in bed.

Hayes: Sometimes weird isn’t bad.

Hattie: This weird was bad. Like I said, he took forever to find my clit. He was adventurous but not in a good way.

Hayes: Explain.

Hattie: Like doing it in the bathtub. It would result in us sliding around everywhere, water sloshing onto the floor. He’d come, and I’d be left to clean up the mess.

Hayes: What a douche.

Hattie: Yeah, and I thought I was going to marry him.

Hayes: Fuck, that’s depressing. Imagine what your life would be like with the guy who likes his scrotum pinched.

Hattie: I was joking about that.

Hayes: Doesn’t matter. It’s stuck in my head, and that’s how I’ll forever remember him now.

Hattie: Who? Scrotum Pincher? Hopefully you never see him again then.

Hayes: Doubt I will. He won’t want to show up anywhere near me, especially with how much he stole.

Hattie: Why did you let him steal so much?

Hayes: I didn’t let him. I think I was just too goddamn out of it to even care.

Hattie: I thought you stopped doing drugs a while ago.

Hayes: I did, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t in a fog. I’ve been in one for a while. Going through the motions, never letting myself feel anything.

Hattie: Why?

Hayes: A year-long tour desensitized me. I just started shutting down after a while. The demand was high from the label. I lost the love for it all, and I just . . . shut down.

Hattie: That’s so sad.

Hayes: It is what it is.

Hattie: I wish I was there so I could give you a hug.

Hayes: How about I come by tomorrow and help you with Cassidy’s room? You can give me a hug then?

Hattie: I’d love that.

Hayes: Good. I’ll see you tomorrow then.

Hattie: See you tomorrow. XOXO


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset