Page 114 of HateMates

“Nope. More like murderous. How does dying in an elevator sound?”

“If that’s what you choose.”

Ugh! He’s being an ass. I open my mouth, then shut it when the elevator doors open.

“Guess I’m gonna go in my condo.” He walks out, and I’m hot on his heels. He stops at the end of the hall and opens the door to the most spectacular condo I’ve ever seen. I’ll have to enjoy it later and snoop around after I murder him and throw him off his fancy balcony.

He stops and turns to me, his eyes smoldering. They roam all over my body, taking in my—goddammit. I probably should have changed out of my pajamas. At least my heels look hot. “I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I think about murdering you every second of every day.”

“I know,” he says again and steps toward me.

“You disgust me.”

“I know.” Another step, and I can smell his cologne.

“I have the worst taste in men,” I spit out.

“You do.”

“You suck—”

I lost this battle the second I heard his voice. He captures my neck, pulling me to him. His mouth fuses to mine, and it’s game over. I drop everything, wrap my hands around his neck, and jump into his arms, his large hands squeezing my ass. He’s already hard against me as he presses me against the wall. His kiss is savage and demanding, and I return it with just as much fervor. My fingers slide into his hair, fisting it tightly, needing more of his mouth.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I still hate you.”

“And you should,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth down my neck and sucking in the flesh of my collarbone. “You should despise me for what I did.” He cups my breast, pinching my hard nipple. “You should tell me to stop and run as far away from me as you can.” His head dips and his teeth replace his fingers on my nipple. My head falls back, and I let out a hoarse moan.

His hand slides down my belly into the waistband of my pants. His grunt of approval sets me on fire as he slides his hand between my soaked thighs and thrusts a finger deep inside me. “This is the last time you’re going to see me,” I moan, working my hips against his hand. Knowing what I want, he grants me two then three thick digits, murmuring filthy words in my ear as he pumps in and out.

“This greedy little pussy wants more than my fingers, doesn’t it?”

I nod in desperation. “Yes,” I pant. “More, please,” I beg.

“That’s the thing I love about you, Minds. You’re always so greedy for my touch. You need me just as much as I need you.” I’m so lost in the sensation that I almost miss it.That’s the thing I love about you.

“What?”

He just said he loved me—now?

“You heard me.” He sucks at my earlobe, and I slam my palms into his chest, shoving him off me. He jerks backward, and I drop to the floor.

“You asshole!”

“I tell you I love you and that makes me an asshole?”

I step up and shove him again. “You love me?”

“Yes.”

“And you think saying it now is going to fix the damage you’ve caused?” I demand.

“No. Fuck. But I do. I know I messed up—”

“You did more than mess up. You betrayed me!” I yell. “You gave up on me! And why? Because I’m human and made a mistake? Or because I told you how I felt?”

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