Page 495 of Hate Mates

“I can’t orgasm anymore,” I begged. I felt like I was going to die from exhaustion as my heart pounded against my ribcage.

“You can, and you will,” he commanded.

His tongue descended on me again, cleaning up the mess he had caused while creating a whole new one. My vision blurred.

“Lazaro,” I moaned, as he ruined me over and over again.

Thank you for reading CAPTIVE. If you loved Antonella and Lazaro, and want more, be sure to look out for their full novel coming Summer 2026. The plot twists will be extra twisty and the steam will be even hotter! To be the first find out when their book will be available and read more sneak peeks, be sure to sign up for my newsletter.

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About the Author

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Sun-kissed Nemesis by Willow Winters

Chapter One

PARKER

It’s too fucking early.

My alarm rings, and I slap my phone again. Ten more minutes. Ten more minutes is all I need. Rubbing my sore eyes, I drop back to the pillow and ignore the light creeping in the shades.

Sleep takes me under, but it doesn’t seem like more than a few seconds go by before the alarm rings again. I turn it off with a groan. It feels like the middle of the night. My head’s slow from getting such shitty sleep. All I want to do is give up and spend the morning napping, but checking the time, I know I have to get out of bed and get moving. Maybe coffee will help.

The bed groans as I sit up and pull the shades open. The sun’s coming through the window. A new day is getting started. It’s time for me to get started too, even if last night was hell.

I glare through my bedroom wall, which was where most of the sound came from. My bedroom backs up to her living room. I tried everything. Headphones. A pillow over my head. A white noise app. Nothing worked, because the people in the house next door were throwing a raging party. The music went on and on and on. Girls shrieked on and off, though I couldn’t tell whatthey were saying. All I know is they were too fucking loud until nearly 4am.

I kept thinking it would end. Five more minutes, and they’d get sick of the music. Ten more minutes, and they’d run out of things to talk about. Fifteen more minutes, and they’d run out of beer or whatever they were drinking.

And, yeah, I could have been the asshole who called the cops, but then I’d be the asshole who called the cops. Worse than that, I’d be the asshole landlord who called the cops. They’d know it was me, or they’d find out, and word spreads fast in a little beach town like this one. Especially in the early spring when things are still slow. Who the hell knows what would happen if I became the town’s asshole landlord who called the cops because of one party? Especially when I’m only thirty-two and I’ve been known to throw my own parties.

Wouldn’t help my art shop, that’s for sure. Just thinking about the shop reminds me that I need to be grateful I could rent out the place next door.

I need a shower. I need a reset. I need to get dressed and get my head on straight so I’ll be ready for work. I need to take advantage of every minute of sunlight this spring and summer, because the store barely survived the winter months.

Things are always slower in a beach town during the winter. Everybody knows that. But last winter was brutal and without the property rented, I had to dip into savings for the first time since I moved here. The store was barely able to keep its doors open, and that’s only because I paid myself less to help keep the bills up to date.

I got through December by telling myself that it would all turn around come summer. I focused on painting and collecting pieces from other artists. I told myself everything would get better as soon as the weather warmed up and people started coming to the beach.

That’s exactly what I’m doing. Every day this spring counts, and I’m taking advantage of the time by going to where the people are: on the beach.

Including meeting the contractor to fix up the bathroom in… I check the clock, 45 minutes.

In the shower, I wash my hair extra hard and scrub my face, then try out a few smiles.

It’s going to be a great day. Tourists are already trickling in. I’ll sell enough pieces to get ahead for the week, and by the end of the week, I’ll be ahead for the month, and by the end of the month, it won’t matter if the winter is slow. I’ll have a cushion to get me and the store through. I’ll have a safety net.

One day at a time.

I towel off and get dressed, then head out to the kitchen. Extra-strong coffee will have to pull its weight today. I drink it too hot, because I’m already running a little late—I would have been up an hour ago if it wasn’t for the party.

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