Page 68 of Meet Hate Love
“You will not keel over from having too many orgasms.” I adjusted the pillow behind my back before I settled against the headboard. “I’ve said it before. I’ll probably say it every day—” Hopefully for the rest of my life—“You’re ridiculous. ”
Lifting a brow, she tossed the condom box to the floor. I fought the urge to get out of the unmade bed and chuck it into the trash.
“That box being on the floor bothering you is ridiculous. Neat freak.” She took the pillow from behind her and playfully smacked me in the face. “I bet you reorganize your sock drawers to get off when you’re alone.”
“Don’t make fun of my kinks.” I hooked my arm around her waist, dragging her naked body down on top of me. Maybe her limit was three orgasms. But mine was six…
Kissing my lips, she sat up and straddled me. Her wet pussy slipped over my hardening cock. “Do you inject Viagra straight into that thing, or what?”
“I have my naked—” I slide my hands down her back to her ass—“dream girl in bed with me. How do you expect me not to stay like this?”
“Dream girl, huh?” She nipped at my bottom lip. “You used to call me a nightmare.”
“Because you weren’t mine…”
Grinning, she half rolled her eyes. “You like that I’m late to everything now?”
“No, I still hate that, but you’re smart and sweet. Quirky as hell.” I gripped her ass cheeks harder. “Fucking gorgeous.” And mine…
I almost had her ready for another round when her phone pinged. Then pinged again. She pressed a kiss to my lips, then dismounted me.
“Rejected for a text.”
“I wasn’t about to fuck you again.”
My hard dick said differently. I watched her ass as she crossed the room. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“No condoms, remember?” Smirking, she grabbed her phoneandthe box of half-eaten pizza we’d had delivered earlier in the day.
My grandma had always told me true love made little sense because nothing about it was sensible, and right at that moment, as I stared at Blake standing there, naked and holding a pizza box, I got it. For the first time in my life, I really got it.
I thought I might already love that girl…
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Blake said.
My attention strayed from her perfect nipples to the disgusted frown she had aimed at her phone. Only two things would have prompted a look like that. Blake finding out there was a new remix of “Adrenaline Boner” uploaded to iTunes, or that text she’d just received had something to do with her sister, Kate.
“What?”
“Kate sent an e-vite to the rescheduled engagement party.” Blake dropped the device back onto the table. “It’s at Bon Apple Tea over by Central Park. I guess they figured Rent-a-Poo couldn’t sabotage an uppity tearoom in the middle of Manhattan.” Her tits bounced when she dropped onto the bed, pizza box still in hand. “France doesn’t even do tea rooms, do they? And what a stupid name. Like I’m going to show up to Bon Apple Tea. Bon Apple Fuck You, Kate…”
It sounded terrible. “You should go.”
She lifted the pizza box lid, picked melted cheese from the top, and stuck it inside her mouth. “I’d rather lock myself in a mausoleum.”
An uncomfortable sense of jealousy crept into my chest. The hostility she had toward Kate and Jimbo was more than understandable, but what if part of it was because she still had feelings for the dickhead?
I took a slice of cold pizza, telling myself to let it go.
She grabbed another string of melted cheese. “Why would I want to go?”
I’d heard enough stories about Kate to know the girl had some serious jealousy when it came to Blake. Any accomplishment Blake had made, Kate tried to either minimize or outdo.
Blake had signed up for a 3K. Kate had signed up for a 5K.
Blake had landed a job as a travel journalist, and Kate had taken up a hobby of freelance writing and scored an op-ed at theNew York Times. I’d looked it up. Kate wrote like shit.
Blake had gotten engaged. Kate had stolen her fiancé.
