Page 77 of Hate Mates

“Vina,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to my lips. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?”

I swallow hard, my pulse pounding, and my voice is shaky when I try to cut through this haze. “Rifle through strippers’ clothes?”

A slow, wicked smile spreads across his face as he slowly shakes his head. “Nah. This.”

His mouth is on mine, like yesterday, hot and demanding. I gasp into the kiss, and he takes advantage, his tongue sweeping in. We managed to pretend there weren’t sparks between us overnight, but right now, I can’t fathom why. He tastes like sin, and I can’t get enough.

My hands fist his shirt, drawing him closer. His body is hard against mine, all lean muscle and coiled power. He groans into the kiss, his fingers digging into my hips.

When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard. Blaze rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.

“I’ve wanted to do that since high school,” he admits, his voice rough. “Seeing you with the emo crowd, dark eyeliner and fuck-off attitude.”

I blink at him, stunned. “You had your herd of jocks and cheerleaders.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t give me the time of day,” he says, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “The dark princess of the Blue Throttle MC, slumming it with lowly jocks. What rumors would’ve flown?”

I remember the younger Blaze—popular, charming, cocky swagger. He’s right, I wouldn’t have looked twice at him in school. But now…

“No idea,” I mumble.

“You never wondered?” His thumb traces my bottom lip. “What it would be like, you and me?”

My mind is reeling. Have I wondered? Only in my deepest, darkest fantasies. The ones I’d never admit to anyone, least of all myself.

But with his body pressed against mine, his scent surrounding me, those fantasies come rushing to the surface. I remember the planes of his torso and imagine what he’d feel like moving above me, inside me.

“Blaze…” I breathe.

It’s all the encouragement he needs. His mouth slants over mine, and this time, there’s no hesitation. His kiss brands me, claims me. I surrender to it, to him, pouring all my pent-up desire and the years of ingrained hate into the press of my lips, the slide of my tongue.

His hands roam my body, slipping under the hem of my sweatshirt. I arch into his touch, my skin burning with every contact. I slide my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, eliminating the space between us.

The kiss turns hungry, desperate. All the denied hateful attraction pours into every stroke of tongue and nip of teeth. Blaze’s hands skim up my ribcage, his thumbs grazing the undersides of my breasts. My body bows against his, seeking more.

He cups my breasts, kneading gently. Pleasure zings through me, pooling hot and heavy in my core. I moan, the sound swallowed by his kiss. His fingers find my nipples, already pebbled and straining. He plucks at them, rolling the sensitive peaks, sending sparks of sensation racing down my spine.

I scrape my nails down his back, feeling his muscles flex beneath my touch. He growls against my lips, a primal sound that sends a shiver through me. His hips surge forward, grinding his hardness against me, hot and insistent.

Blaze tears his mouth from mine, ripping my sweatshirt over my head. My hair cascades over my shoulders as he returns his mouth to me, trailing scorching kisses down the column of my throat. I let my head fall back, giving him better access. He nips at my pulse point, soothing the sting with his tongue. His teeth graze my collarbone, then lower to sink into the swell of my breast.

I’m lost in sensation, drowning in the feel of his hands and mouth on my body.

Blaze’s fingers find the button of my jeans, popping it open deftly. He drags the zipper down, torturously slow. I lift my hips, helping him shimmy the denim down my legs. Cool air washes over my heated skin, quickly replaced by the warmth of his hands as they smooth up my thighs.

He hooks his fingers in my panties, but pauses, lifting his head to meet my gaze. His eyes are dark, pupils blown with desire, but there’s a question there too. He’s asking for permission, giving me an out if I want it.

But I don’t want out. I want all of him, consequences be damned.

I lift my hips again in silent invitation, and he drags my panties down my legs, baring my pussy.

Chapter Four

Blaze crouches to his knees before me, and there’s a thud outside the door. We both freeze. The sound of approaching footsteps breaks the spell, and we spring apart, panting.

“Shit,” Blaze hisses, his eyes darting to the door. “We’ve gotta go. Now.”

I yank up my jeans and scan the racks, my gaze landing on a long, blond wig, leather pants, and a sequined halter top that would blend in at any dive bar. I snatch them up, shoving them into Blaze’s hands.

---