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 brace a hand on either side of the door. I want to spend all night worshiping every inch of her. No worrying about Flip. No going back to her own bed. I want to wake up beside her. I need to amend this pact we’ve made. Two minutes later, the door swings open.

“Sweet fuck.” She looks like my favorite sin. She’s dressed in black, strappy, lacy lingerie.

“Worth it?” She bites her lip and ducks her head, looking up at me from under her lashes.

“More than worth it.” I take her hand and lead her to the bed. I tap the edge, then wrap my hands around her waist. “Up you go.”

She folds her legs under her and kneels at the edge of the bed in front of me. I drink her in as she raises a hand, trailing her fingers down my arm. When she reaches my hand, she moves it to skim her waist, lifting it so my fingers graze the swell of her breast. She drags it higher, over her collarbones until my palm rests against her throat. Her eyes flutter shut for a moment as she adjusts the position, and then her fingers rest over mine, pressing them into her delicate flesh.

“Fuck, Bea.” I curve the other hand around the back of her neck and brush my lips over hers. “I’m sorry if this lingerie doesn’t make it through the night, but I will definitely replace it if I ruin it.”

I move my mouth over hers but remember what she said about being gentle. I should probably start off easy if I don’t want to wear her out in the first hour.

So I’m soft with her. I kiss her like I’m not in a rush, like she’s my favorite ice cream and I’m savoring her. When I stretch out between her thighs, I’m all soft strokes of tongue and teasing nips, and when I push inside her, I fuck her with long, lazy strokes. She comes on whimpers and sighs, and I find I want her soft pleas for more. I want her wrapped around me when she unravels. I like how gentle feels with her. I want to stay here, in this bubble where the guilt doesn’t eat at me and there doesn’t have to be an end.

When we’re both spent, I gather her up and arrange her so I can breathe in her shampoo. I kiss the back of her neck. “Stop looking for an apartment for a while.”

Her fingers drift over the backs of mine. I lace them together. “We start traveling soon. Just stay until the end of October at least.”

“Okay,” she whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I kiss the back of her neck. “I promise I’ll make it worth it.”

Her breath evens out a few minutes later.

“I wish I could keep you happy like this forever,” I murmur. “I wish I deserved to.” But I don’t know if I’m capable of making anyone happy long term. So I’ll keep her as long as she’ll let me.

I wake up at six in the morning and pat the mattress, but all I find are cold, tangled sheets. “Bea? Come back to bed!” I call.

But I get no response. I sit up and scrub a hand over my face. My phone is on the nightstand. I have a text from Bea. A long one.

She said she would stay, and she’s gone. She fucking left me. Memories surface, the kind that make me want to punch things. To rip the whole house apart.

My stomach twists, and panic makes my throat tight. My hands shake. I hate this weakness. Hate that I’m suddenly sweaty and nauseated. I grit my teeth as I scan the first few lines.

#1

I’m sorry you’re waking up alone. I didn’t want to leave, but I worried if neither of us was home in the morning, Flip might realize something is up. And if I’m sticking around until the end of October, I don’t want to give him a reason to be suspicious.

Last night was amazing. It was fun and thoughtful and completely unexpected. Thank you for doing that for me. I wish I could have stayed. I wanted to, but I didn’t want to take that kind of risk. There’s a thank you blow job with your name on it the next time you get me alone. (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥

I read the message over three times. For a few seconds, it felt like someone had put my heart in a vise. I rub my chest, trying to relieve the ache. I get her reason for leaving, but the secrecy is harder to deal with. I’d rather have more last nights and waking up with her beside me than the promise of a BJ.

Maybe Roman is right. Maybe these feelings for Bea are real. I guess I bought myself some more time to figure shit out.


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