Page 279 of Hate Mates

“No, just my fucking home!” Goosebumps break out on the very naked upper half of my body a second before two palms slam into my chest, shoving me back against the car.

“You could have killed me. I knew you were psychotic, but this…Jesus Christ!” She continues to slap at me.

As she hits out at me again, I snatch her wrists, pushing her arms up, then use my hold and momentum to spin her so she’s pinned against the car.

“I could fucking kill you right fucking here, right now. You cheated,” I say, my face an inch from hers.

She smiles smugly. “Counting cards isn’t illegal, Mickey.”

I laugh in her face. “It’s unethical.”

“Oh, please,” she says with a laugh of her own. “Unethical is in your blood. It runs through your veins, even has its own fucking DNA code.”

“The bet is off.”

“The fuck it is. I won, the end. Or are you wanting to add sore loser and reneger of bets to the list of undesirable traits the Rawlins name stands for?” She quirks a brow, and I watch as her eyes spark with challenge.

She shifts her body as she tries to loosen my hold on her, but all it does is force our bodies closer together. I’m furious and I want to hurt her, but none of that stops my cock hardening beneath my jeans. And when her lips part, my eyes drop to them, a puff of breath expels from her mouth, and I know she can feel me. She stills, watching my face, trying to read my thoughts and figure out what’s next.

My father is going to go fucking nuts already, but if I renege on our bet, I’ll not only face his wrath but tarnish our name. That can’t happen. I’m meant to be proving to him I have what it takes to step into his shoes one day.

I can’t deny my attraction to her. The fact she irritates the fuck out of me just makes my dick harder. There’s no logic there. And while I’ll never get in bed with her, a guy can have a little fun, right?

In the blink of an eye, I’ve released her wrists, swapping it for her face, and slammed my lips down on hers. She squirms against me—not fucking helping the situation at all—and tries to shove me off her. But I’m almost twice her size and could bench press her. She’s not shifting me if I don’t want to be moved. When she opens her mouth to protest, to curse me out, I drive my tongue into her mouth.

My grip on her face tightens as our tongues go into battle, and a couple of seconds later, she’s kissing me back, raising her leg and grinding against me. I slide one hand along the side of her neck and grip her chestnut hair, angling her head so I can deepen the kiss and eliciting a moan from her. Trailing a hand down her body, I pause to cup a breast, stroking my thumb over her nipple beneath her thin top and bra as she arches into the touch. But before I can go any further, a bright light illuminates the road as the rumble of a car engine grows louder, breaking the spell we’ve both fallen under.

I release her instantly like she’s burnt me and step back. The shutters come down over her face, and the only indication of anything being amiss is her kiss-swollen lips and the hard-on painfully constrained inside my jeans.

A car door slams shut, but neither of us break our stare off, choosing to ignore whoever it is and revert to sending daggers at each other again. Only now they aren’t so sharp, dulled beneath a dusting of lust and desire.

Roni breaks the silence just as I sense someone step up beside me.

“I’ll see you Sunday morning, Mickey, and you better be ready.” She nods to whoever is standing next to me, Fletch, I think, then walks back to her car, gets in and drives away.

“Jeez, what the fuck did I just interrupt? Sure as shit wasn’t the murder scene I was expecting. The sexual tension right here”—he lifts a finger and twirls it around in a circle—“is insane!”

“Whatever,” I mumble and head back to the car.

“Priest is pissed with you, man,” Fletch calls to me.

But I don’t hear him. I’m too busy wondering what the fuck just happened and how I ended up kissing the enemy.

Chapter Six

RONI

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I see Mickey getting back in Priest’s car. I grip the steering wheel tighter to ease my shaky hands. But I can’t do anything about my racing heart or the heavy rise and fall of my chest. I blow out a long, slow breath. The air rushes over my lips, and they tingle in memory of Mickey’s mouth on mine. I shake the thought away, focusing back on the road.

I don’t have the mental capacity to think too hard about just how good it felt. I think my plan worked a little too well, but it’s done. Now I need to keep it together just long enough to get what I need—what my father needs—then I’ll never have to see Mickey again.

I park in the drive of my father’s house and take a moment before going inside. I don’t bother trying to sneak in tonight as I have nothing to hide. Daddy knows exactly where I’ve been.

At the first click of my heels on the floor, his voice echoes down the hall from his office.

“Veronica.”

It’s one word, my name, but said with such demand, and I turn in the direction of his office where he’ll be sitting behind hisdesk, a scotch in hand, pouring over paperwork while he waited for my return.

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