Page 32 of Sweet Hate
You, evidently.
Me
Mmm, pee play isn’t really my vibe. You should know that.
Axel
Haven, please.
Me
Pretty please with cherries on top?
Axel
There’s only ever been one cherry I was particularly fond of.
Me
Hell no. You did not go there.
Axel
Two can play this game Haven so stop screwing around. Now get back here, this is serious.
Furious, I storm round back, taking a deep breath to steel myself for more of his bullshit.
I find Axel leaning against the wall, scowling down at his phone.
Good, he’s annoyed. That makes two of us.
Taking a second to study him while he’s distracted isn’t the most sensible idea. He’s wearing a partially open red and black flannel shirt framing solid abs which disappear into obscenely low-slung jeans.
The temptation to lick his abs like a popsicle is real. He literally looks like my Montana mountain man fantasy in real life.
Thank’s Gemma Weir for putting those ideas into my head with your books.
I’m torn between asking him to carry me off to have his wicked way with me or slapping him stupid for how he’s acted since the other day.
It was definitely safer on the other side of that door. I’d think he dressed like this to mess with me, but there is no way he knows about my mountain men. The book he saw me with wasn’t one of those so it would be impossible unless he swiped my kindle.
Bracing myself, I cross my arms and quirk a brow, pretending I’ve not spent the last few seconds eye fucking him.
“You summoned me, sir?”
Visibly swallowing, his eyes widen, burning with what looks like desire, when he turns and catches sight of me in the doorway. I’m meeting Mia tonight so I’m not in my usual yoga pants, and his slow perusal of my body tells me he’s not entirely unaffected by the tight denim dress I’m wearing.
I can’t help the grin stretching across my face at his reaction. Of course, the grumpy twat notices and immediately stands up rigidly crossing his arms.
Holy Forearms.
Gah, no, I will not be distracted by veiny hot forearms, when he’s staring at me like he just sucked on a lemon.
“Hurricane, nice of you to finally grace me with your presence,” He cocks an eyebrow of his own in response.
Oh, it's on.
“I don’t follow your orders, Fireman.”
