Page 276 of Hate Mates

“I’m really starting to hate my name,” James says.

I bark out a laugh, pulling my phone from my pocket. “Some might say you were made for this job. Right down to your name,” I say continuing to chuckle at James’ expense as I check my phone.

Priest: Hurry up and get your arse here!

Shaking my head, I type out a reply.

Me: Sorry. Washing my hair.

His response is the middle finger emoji, then another message telling me they are at Priest’s. I could do with a few drinks and a laugh with the guys. As long as Roni Hart isn’t there again spoiling my vibe, then I’ll be good.

I ask James to stick around so he can drop me off at Priest’s once I’ve showered and changed, and thirty minutes later, I’m stepping out of the car in Priest’s drive as the pounding echo of base from inside greets me.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” I mutter as I step up to the front door only for it to open before I get there, revealing Fletch.

“Mickey, my man. Priest owes me a bullseye.”

I shake my head as Fletch bows, waving an arm in a welcoming come in gesture. “Thought he fucking knew better than to bet against me after the last time,” I say, stepping inside. Any further conversation is pointless as the loud music I could hear outside is practically deafening in here.

As usual, Priest’s parents are absent. No doubt on another trip around the world. His parents aren’t the worst among our circle, but any issue is easily dealt with by throwing money at it. And if that fails, then you pay off the next in line and keep going until the problem goes away.

Just like me, Priest and Fletch were given the best education money could buy. But unlike me, my friends don’t have a legacy to take over and can instead use their education, money and status to do what they like.

“Pay up, Priest,” Fletch calls as the music is lowered to a more comfortable level, and we trot down the three steps into the sunken lounge area.

“And here was me thinking we were friends, Rawlins,” he groans, rolling his eyes.

“Says the guy who texted to hurry my arse up and get here.” Too late I see Fletch swiping a hand across his neck in a cutting motion. Realisation dawns and I laugh as Priest leaps from the couch, displacing the chick beside him, over the back and grabs Fletch in a headlock.

“You cheating prick! I’d say you owe me now,” Priest grits out as he rubs his knuckles across the top of Fletch’s head.

I’m still laughing as I scan the room and drop down into the empty love seat. A few of the other guys are playing beer pong in the kitchen and a couple are shooting some pool. My arse has barely touched the seat when the space beside me dips and a beer appears in front of me.

“Hey, Mickey. I got you a drink,” says the chick who claimed the seat beside me.

I take the bottle she’s offering and rake my gaze over her. Ebony hair, green eyes, tits spilling out of the tight lace cami top she’s wearing. Her legs are encased in a pair of skinny leather hot-pants leading to a pair of knee-high heeled boots. I’ve no clue who she is, but she’s pretty, so I indulge her and relaxback into the seat, slinging an arm around her shoulders as she relaxes back with me.

A couple of hours later, several beers and a few shots down, I’m balls deep in the nameless chick who I’ve dubbed Snow White. Gripping the edge of the sink, she watches me in the mirror, her mouth hanging open and panting out breaths as I drive into her hard.

“Yes, Mickey,” she cries, her head dropping down.

Without Snow White’s eyes to focus on, I notice movement at the doorway behind me in the mirror and realise we aren’t as alone as I thought. I keep going not at all bothered by our little voyeur. In fact, it gives me an extra thrill. Which is almost derailed a second later as the person watching inches forward, allowing their face to be bathed in the dim light from the hall.

Roni Hart.

Rage mixes with excitement, and I use Snow White here to exorcise it. Gripping a handful of ebony hair, I piston my hips, tilting up as I thrust forward, in a punishing pace. My eyes burn with a fire of hate as I watch Roni’s eyes widen. The little hitch in her breaths is a dead giveaway of her arousal, and the thought brings a smirk to my lips.

“You like that, don’t you?” I rasp. Snow White let’s out a cry, but she has no idea my question wasn’t for her. “That’s it, baby. Take it all! I wanna feel your cunt milking my cock.”

Eager to please, her cunt tightens around me, squeezing me in a vice like grip, as she comes. My grip on her hair is fierce and my thrusts relentless as my release spills from me, made all the more potent thanks to our spectator. Roni’s cheeks flush a delicious pink hue with desire, yet her eyes flash with hate.

My hips jerk with the last of my orgasm, and my grip on Snow White’s hair loosens. Gripping the base of my cock and the condom, she moans as I slip free, and I can’t help a satisfied chuckle.

Removing the condom, I quickly tie it off and toss it in the small bin. Looking to the doorway, I’m not surprised to see Roni has vanished. Seems watching me fuck was too much for the Ice Queen.

Chapter Four

RONI

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