If You Hate Me (Toronto Terror #1) Read Online Helena Hunting

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Funny, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Toronto Terror Series by Helena Hunting
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Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
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“So are you.” Her fingers glide over her bare breasts, skimming her nipples on the way down. I follow the path, fisting my erection as she dips between her thighs. She takes her time, fingers pushing inside, then circling her clit. I have to stop halfway through, or I risk losing it too soon. Just before she comes, her free hand glides up her body, pausing to squeeze a breast before she wraps her fingers around her throat. Her legs tremble, and her hips roll and jerk as the orgasm sweeps over her. And I let go, too.

We’re both panting and sweaty, but at least we’re semi-sated.

“When you get home tomorrow, you can come over,” Bea says.

“Over as in…” I let that hang.

“As in, I’ll show you my bedroom.”

Iwake up at three in the morning because I have to pee, and I see that Flip messaged an hour ago to let me know his friends were gone. I could go back to our room and sleep in a bed, or I can catch an early flight back to Toronto and take Bea out for breakfast. Maybe I can even convince her to take the day off. I’ve been away for almost a week. I’m not used to missing someone, and I don’t like how antsy I am about having to wait until the end of the day to see her.

Decision already made, I book a flight, get dressed, and leave a message for Flip and one for Coach to let him know I went home early. The team flight doesn’t leave for several hours.

I text Bea once I’ve boarded to let her know I’ll be home in less than two hours, and I want to take her to breakfast. She video-calls me right away. We’re still fifteen minutes from takeoff.

“I thought the team wasn’t flying back until later this morning?” Her voice is sleep raspy. It’s barely six a.m.

“They aren’t. I’m coming home early so we can have breakfast. I haven’t seen you in six days, and last night made me hungry for more of you.”

The businesswoman next to me gives me the side-eye.

“Is this because I said I’d show you my bedroom?”

“I want to see you regardless of whether I get to see your bedroom,” I say. “I’ll be back by eight. Can you go in late? Or take the day? I promise I’ll make it worth it. And not just orgasm worth it, if you decide you want me to give you some of those.”

The woman beside me makes a disapproving sound.

“I want the day with you. Just us,” I add.

Bea is quiet for a few seconds. “Jane, in marketing, went home yesterday with the flu after our morning meeting. I can always say I think I’ve come down with the same thing.”

“Yeah?” I haven’t had a whole day with Bea before. I definitely need to make it worth her while.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be at your place by eight thirty.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Two and a half hours later, I knock on Bea’s door. She’s wearing a robe.

“Hi.” I don’t make a move to touch her.

“Hi.” She steps back, and I cross the threshold.

“Is Hammer home?”

“She left for work half an hour ago.”

“Can I hug you?” I ask.

A small, surprised smile tips her mouth. “Yeah. Of course.”

I wrap my arms around her and pull her body against mine. Dropping my head, I bury my face in her hair and breathe in the scent of her shampoo. “Fuck, I missed you,” I mutter. I’ve never really been much of a hugger, but with Bea, it feels good. I want to hold her all the time.

She gives me a gentle squeeze and runs her hand up and down my back. “I missed you, too.”

We stand there for a minute, and I absorb all her warmth and goodness. The only people I’m used to caring about are my dad, my brothers, and my teammates. I’ve never allowed myself to get close to anyone else. Not like this. But I want it. I want her.

Eventually I pull back. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes, please.”

I take her face in my hands and put my mouth on hers. She parts her lips, and our tongues tangle. She tastes like mint and home and everything I need.

Her hands go to my belt and she tugs, pulling it free from the clasp.

“I don’t have expectations, Bea.”

“I know.” She pops the button, drags the zipper down. “But I’m done holding out.”

I groan as her hand slips into my pants, her fingers wrapping around my erection. “Fuck, that feels good. I missed you touching me.”

“Same.” She pulls my mouth back to hers for a few strokes of tongue. “I just need you in me, so can we save the part where you torment me and hold out on giving me an orgasm for later? Like, after you take me out for breakfast?”


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