Page 43 of Sweet Hate
What rational grown-up man has a wet fucking dream?
The memory of it floods my brain.
She crawled over me in that black lace dress with no panties on, before lowering herself onto my cock slowly. Her wet heat surrounded my hard, aching length in the most delicious familiar torture, and it felt so real I swear I can still smell her in the air.
And as if that’s not bad enough, I’m late to meet Lucas at the bakery. Which means not only having to ignore all thoughts of him touching her but also facing her after coming all over myself like a virgin boy with his first crush.
The irony that it’s exactly how I used to wake up as a teenager after dreaming about her is not lost on me.
This is some bullshit.
I’ve never wished for a five-alarm fire harder than I do right now. I’d have no choice but to drop everything and head to the firehouse.
Groaning, I drag my ass into an ice-cold shower, get dressed, and bypass the coffee to head straight down to the bakery, already late enough. Before I even reach the back door, I can hear them laughing, a jarring reminder of the night before.
Walking in, I let the door slam shut behind me, and it makes Haven jump, while Lucas only turns around to face me, a big shit eating grin splitting his face.
The urge to smack it off is strong, so instead I turn to look ather.
I shouldn’t have.
She looks cute as hell in fitted pink overalls, her hair tied up in a messy bun today, trademark bandana tied around it, leaving her bare neck and shoulders exposed. My brain misfires and my mouth waters with the urge to bite her and mark her as mine like I used to.
This needs to stop. I need to get it together.
This isn’t me.
“Afternoon, Fireman, nice of you to eventually show up. Blondie tie you to her bedposts?” Haven side-eyes me before pointing at the wall. “I was just showing Lucas the wiring you mentioned the other day, since he was nice enough to show up on time.”
I know I shouldn’t take the bait, but the fact that she noticed the blonde talking to me fills me with shame. Shame I shouldn’t be feeling. I can fuck whoever the fuck I want. Whenever I want.
But apparently, I can’t let it go, determined to make shit as uncomfortable for her as it is for me.
“No one ties me anywhere, Hurricane. I like to be in control—I’m sure you remember that.”Ha. That’s laughable. I’ve never been as wildly out of control as she has me right now.
I’m not giving her the upper hand, though. Her eyes go wide at my words, and I watch that adorable flush creep into her cheeks with immense satisfaction.
“Mmm, I don’t remember much, to be honest. So, it can’t have been all that memorable.” That startles a loud laugh out of Lucas, who’s been watching us intently. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you guys to figure this crap out. I’ve got plans.”
“What fucking plans?”
Did I say that out loud?
“Not your problem, Verona. Rather than busy yourself worrying about my whereabouts, how about you concern yourself with getting this bakery operational in time for myMerryweather deadline? You know, maybe do what you’re here actually getting paid to do?”
I’m not getting paid at all, but she doesn’t need to know that. I’m not taking a penny from Grams. I just want to make sure the place is safe for them.
My heart rate kicks up a notch while she faces off with me, eyes blazing, hands on her hips like the little pink spitfire she is.
Fuck, she’s so sexy it hurts. And to see her like this, owning that spark I always knew she had…wow. My girl’s all grown up, and she isphenomenal.
The realization hits me squarely in the solar plexus.
Regret for how much I’ve missed wars with anger at the fact that I can’t seem to let her go. All I seem to be doing is digging myself a bigger hole.
She looks away first, her scowl morphing into one of her brilliant sunshine smiles as she turns to Lucas again and throws her arms around his waist in a hug.
I grit my teeth, unable to keep my eyes off them. I hate how freely he seems to get her affection. Seeing him kiss her on the cheek is the final straw. Turning away, I toss my shirt to the side and crouch down to rummage through my toolbox before I do something I’ll end up regretting.
