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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“I hate that every time you bite your lip, all I can think about is how they felt wrapped around my cock, and I really hate that you can deep throat like a fucking champ.” She got on her knees for me after Flip left. It was a fucking revelation.

“I was actually impressed with myself,” she says, managing a smile. “Your dick is huge. Which I hate, by the way. Especially when you’re filling me with it. Were filling me. Past tense. ’Cause it was a one-time thing.”

“Just that one time.” I nod. “You want to know what I hate the most?”

“That you still want to fuck me, even though I annoy the shit out of you?”

“Exactly.” Wanting her compromises everything. It’s dangerous and bad, and I’ll ruin her, if she lets me.

Her nostrils flare, and her gaze drops to my mouth.

“Screw it.” She grabs the back of my neck and pulls my mouth to hers.

We both make irritated sounds. I yank off the towel wrapped around her head and toss it on the floor, spearing my hands through her wet, tangled hair, angling her head so I can get inside her mouth. She tastes like mint. I spin her around and walk her backward to the futon. She grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head. I tug her towel free, then cup her breasts and dip down to roughly suck her nipples.

We’re frantic hands and teeth and tongues, trying to touch every inch of each other.

“I don’t think I can keep my hands off of you,” I admit as I shove the coffee table out of the way and drop to my knees. “Sit down.”

She spreads the towel out and drops onto it. “We should set some ground rules.”

“This stops when you move out.” Maybe she’ll stick around longer if my dick continues to be involved. Lord knows my personality is sorely lacking. I drop my head and lick up the length of her sex, groaning as the taste of her hits my tongue.

“Fuck, that’s good.” She bows off the couch and shoves her hands into my hair. “No feelings. This is about fucking. I just got out of a relationship and neither of us needs the complication.”

I suck her clit and smile when she shrieks. “I don’t do relationships, so you don’t have to worry about me getting attached.”

She scoffs. “We don’t even like each other. Obviously we won’t get attached.”

“You like my cock well enough.” I circle her entrance with a finger.

“Why are you still talking?”

“Flip can’t know.” I palm her tit. I can’t have sex with her if I’m dead. And Flip will definitely kill me if he finds out. That thought alone should give me pause, but it just makes me more desperate.

“Never. This stays between us,” she agrees.

We both nod, and I ease one finger inside her. So soft, and warm, and tight.

Bea moans. “I should not be this close to coming already. It’s not normal. What’s wrong with us?”

“I don’t know, but being ignored for the past week has been a fucking nightmare.”

“Good. Serves you right for saying I’m a forgettable fuck.”

“I was talking shit. It pisses me off that I can’t stop thinking about the sounds you make when you’re about to come.”

“Stop being an asshole and use more fingers.” She covers the hand currently kneading her breast and moves it to circle her throat. “I liked it when you did this last time.” She pulses around my finger.

I am so, so fucked.

I rise and loom over her, my palm wrapped around her delicate throat, thumb and finger pressing into the hinge of her jaw. “Like this?”

She nods, and her fingers drift along the back of my hand, then drop to palm the breast I just released. “Yeah.”

“Why do you have to be so fucking perfect?” I cover her mouth with mine as I slide three fingers into her pussy. She moans and rolls her hips.

I break the kiss and let my lips skim her cheek until I reach her ear. I nuzzle into her hair, fingers rubbing inside her. “You think I’m gonna let you come all over my fingers?”

She grabs my wrist and grinds down on my hand. “I’m so close.”

“I know.” I pull my fingers free and slap her clit. “But not yet.”

She arches and whimpers, throat pressing against my palm as I hold her in place.

“God, I hate you.” She groans.

“Yeah, but you love my cock.” I stroke along the edge of her jaw and explain why I’m being an asshole. “I want to be in you when you come.”

“Condom?” she asks.

I pull my wallet out and flip it open. Find the single condom and pass it to her. While she tears the wrapper open, I pop the button on my jeans, unzip the fly, and shove my boxers and pants down enough to free my cock.


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