Page 21 of The One I Hate
“Yes, I do.”
I lean in closer, our foreheads only inches apart. “Then don’t kiss me again.”
Neither of us move. The only sound is the humming of the air conditioner and the panting of our breaths. Her hands are planted firmly at her sides, and it’s physically killing me not to let my hand start tracing her soft curves. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I saw her four months ago.
But I won’t. I won’t make the first move. This has to be her. Prove to me she doesn’t hate me as much as she thinks does.
I mean, she might. But I’ll take hate over nothing any day of the week.
“I won’t,” she says defiantly.
“Prove it.”
She shakes her head. “I’ve kissed you first twice now. I think it’s your turn.”
Normally I would be able to hold strong. To stand and die on the hill I’ve created. But not when Charlie’s finger is running down the center of my chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake and talking to me in that taunting voice.
Oh, fuck it.
I don’t hesitate. I just react. I grab her face and crash my lips to hers. She doesn’t fight it. Or me. No. She welcomes me.
There is nothing romantic about this kiss. It’s heated and filled with years of hate and want and frustration and lust and every other emotion that gets lumped into those categories.
And it’s fucking perfect.
I can taste the faint flavor of tequila on her tongue, as I savor every second of Charlie’s mouth on mine. My hands leave her face to grab onto each cheek of her luscious ass, squeezing and kneading. This must flip a switch in her, because her hands go from grabbing my shirt for dear life to ripping it open.
I nearly fucking lose it when I feel her nails clawing down my chest. They aren’t long, but hit just enough that I know they’re going to leave a mark.
Which is fine. I plan on leaving her ass pink and sore, so tit for tac, in my opinion.
“I hate you,” she says as she pushes my shirt off me and starts working on my belt while I rip off my undershirt.
“No, you don’t,” I say. She whips my belt off me, and I help her by unbuttoning my pants and pushing them down. The short distance between us gives her the chance to look at my body. Suddenly the hours I’ve spent in the gym with Shane seem worth it.
“Like what you see?”
She looks up then back down as she shrugs.
The tell.
“No.”
“Liar.”
That flips the switch. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
We each step toward each other, the magnetism too powerful to fight.
“I could tell you how to make me come.” Charlie’s finger is toying up and down my sternum, leaving a trail of heat with every movement. “But I don’t want to make this easy for you.”
I don’t know how I, or my cock, don’t physically explode from her words.
“You think I need a cheat sheet?” I lean down closer so my mouth is right on her ear. “The question is going to be how long until you beg for me to stop.”
She tilts her head up to me. “Never.”
