The Hating Season Read online K.A. Linde

Categories Genre: Angst, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
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She stripped out of my lacrosse sweatshirt and climbed back on top of me. This time, there was no fabric between us. No dry-humping.

She hovered over my cock, just barely grazing it with her wetness.

“Condom?” I forced myself to ask.

“I’m on the pill.”

“Are you sure?”

She responded by spreading her legs wider on the couch and sliding her pussy onto my cock. My hands went to her hips, and I hissed through my teeth. Good fucking god, she felt so fucking incredible. It was impossible. Just fucking impossible that anyone could feel this good.

She seated herself fully, and then with a smirk, she said, “I’m sure.”

“You’re so… wet,” I said as my finger slipped down between us to graze her clit.

She jerked like I’d hit her.

“Sensitive?” I asked, making slow circles.

“Jesus, I’m so close, and all I did was blow you.”

I laughed as she bucked under my hand. “Now, you get how I feel every time I go down on you.”

“Fuck, Court,” she said, her eyes snapping closed.

Then, she began to move, lifting off of me and driving back down. Slow and steady and not at all the pace I wanted. So, I reluctantly stopped playing with her clit and gripped her hips in my sturdy hands, slamming her back down on my cock.

“Oh!” she gasped out. “So deep.”

“Good,” I said, doing it again and again.

She was so primed from the blow job that it only took a few thrusts before she was coming all over my cock. She yelled out, “Oh fuck, god, fuck yes, god yes, fuck,” and held me still inside of her.

When she was done and she looked back at me with glazed, satisfied eyes, I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. I laid her out on the bed and spread her legs wide, wide, wider and then dragged her ass forward until it was nearly off the bed. Then, I entered her in one long thrust. Perfect height for my taking.

She gripped the comforter with both hands as I fucked her hard and deep.

Perhaps it should have been gentle after the day she’d had. Maybe it should have been a soft lovemaking. But this was what I liked… and this was what she responded to. That didn’t seem to change just because I’d finally admitted we were together.

If anything, this felt more secure.

More real.

More us.

29

English

Starting my own company sounded impossible. When Lark had suggested it a few months ago, I’d laughed at her. Called it ludicrous. But when Court had suggested it, somehow, it hadn’t sounded quite so crazy.

I was actually contemplating it. Not just contemplating it, but I was also figuring out how to put it in action. Planning for it, looking into office space, and designing what I’d want my own company to look like. The twenty-year long-term goal had just become the right-now, get-the-fuck-to-work job.

Which meant, while Court was busy at work each day, I had so much extra stuff to do. So much to do and so little time to do it. Especially since I needed to figure out what to do about Court… like yesterday. He wasn’t my client anymore. Which was good, considering how unethical it was that we were fucking… and how little I wanted that to stop.

Together.

He’d said we were together.

Fuck, I didn’t know what to think about that. Was it too soon? Should I care if it was?

I didn’t know. All I knew was that I didn’t want to overthink it, and I was too damn busy to stress it.

I’d just gotten off the phone with Carmin, a business real estate agent Court had recommended. She’d promised to get together a list of possible locations for the new office, and we could tour them this weekend if all went as planned.

I checked that off my list and was about to move on to the next item that I had to tackle when my phone started ringing.

“Anna English,” I answered automatically.

“Anna, hello. This is Mayor Kensington’s office.”

“Oh, hi. How can I help you?” I asked, straightening in my seat.

“The mayor wants to schedule a meeting with you this afternoon. She’s at the campaign office at four thirty. Does that work for you?”

“Yes,” I said before even checking my schedule. I’d rearrange if I had to. “That works. Did she say what we’re discussing?”

“She did not,” he said amicably. “I’ll mark you down. Thanks, Anna.”

I hung up the phone with a frown. Just what I needed to take up my afternoon, a meeting with Court’s mother.

I flopped backward, sighing heavily. It was overdue, to be honest. I had to tell her that I’d quit the agency. I would honor the next two weeks up until the election, as per my commitment, but I couldn’t after that. She’d have to find someone else. It wasn’t a conversation I was looking forward to. Hence why it had been at the bottom of my to-do list.


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