Meet Hate Love Read Online Stevie J. Cole

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Funny, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
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I hated to see her like that. I wanted to pick up every single hurt, shattered, cynical piece of her and fit them back together.

“Life isn’t something you’re supposed to have a grip on.”

Her attention fell to my lips as I closed the space between us in the quiet cemetery. I couldn’t resist the draw any longer. For all I cared, she could knock me out if she didn’t want to kiss me this time.

I swept a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

“I know you aren’t about to kiss me in a cemetery?”

“It’s one way to get you over your fear of mausoleums.” Then I pressed my lips to hers, and she melted into me. I cupped the nape of her neck, kissing her deeper. Harder.

“Fuck…” she whispered, her hands landing on my biceps and squeezing.

“Yeah.” I nipped at her lip, pressing her back against the stone building behind her. “Fuck is right.” Because we fit together too damn well.

Her tongue brushed mine. The harder I kissed her, the laxer her body went in my arms. When she moaned my name against my lips, my dick went rock hard and I couldn’t resist the urge to press it against her stomach.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she said, grinding against me.

“Absolutely nothing.” My hands roamed her sides, bunching the soft material of her dress when I reached her ass.

“I still hate you.” She tilted her head when I moved my lips to her neck.

“Of course you do.”

She grabbed at my hips, pulling me against her. “God, but I want you…”

I told myself that no matter how tempting it may be, I could not fuck her right here. Just when I was about to suggest we leave and go back to the hotel, voices broke through the silent cemetery.

“Shit. What are we doing?” She shoved me away, her eyes searching mine as she rubbed at her swollen lips. “That was a huge mistake.”

Chapter Fifteen

BLAKE

Vance had kissed me. He’d put those incredible, amazing, perfect lips of his on mine and tongue fucked my mouth. In a cemetery! Dear God. What was it with me and mausoleums?

Holding eye contact with him, I shoved away from the freaking grave he’d had me pinned to. “Definite mistake.” Then I started down the cobblestone path as fast as my short legs would carry my Oompah Loompa ass.

“Bullshit.” His hand latched onto my wrist, bringing my planned escape to an abrupt halt. Screw him and those long legs. “You just melted in my arms.”

My cheeks heated because I so had. My legs were still wobbly. That had been, hands down, the best kiss I’d ever experienced in my life. A fireworks, out-of-body experience kind of kiss. The kind everyone in the world swore didn’t really exist. And I’d thanked him for that life-altering experience by saying how much of a mistake it was. I almost rolled my eyes at my own stupidity, but again, I was not good in high-stress situations, and this—him and that face and body and those lips—was a very high-stress situation. If a simple kiss could affect me that way. Jesus… sweat broke out on the nape of my neck at the thought of what doing anything else with the man would do. Obliterate me?

One of his dark, questioning brows lifted. “Tell me you didn’t melt.”

“Tell me you’re cocky in—” How many words was that?—“four words or less.”

His shoulders fell. He swiped a hand over his Avo-Cato bandage. That’s right, Blake. Stare at that ridiculous bandage and get your hormones under control. The only problem was, even that stupid bandage couldn’t make him look bad. Fuck!

“You’re going to fight this, aren’t you?” He shot me a look that said, “Go ahead. I dare you to resist this insane, black-hole-like pull between us. Gravity always wins, Blake, and I’m gravity.”

The glimmer of the hopeful romantic inside me who’d grown up watching Disney films and believing true love’s first kiss could solve all of life’s problems wanted to say screw it. That teeny, tiny speck wanted to admit there was something between Vance and me worth investigating, but the rational, cynical part of me knew better. Vance was the poster child for the guy a woman should never go all in with. Playboy looks. As much as I hated to admit it, a charming personality. A dick-pic guy.

He was a big, fat Do Not Pass Go. Do Not Collect $200 sign. My heart knew it. My body, on the other hand, did not want to believe it. Especially not after that kiss.

“I’m just…” I swiped a finger over my still-tingling lips. “I’m not trying to get involved with anyone.”

His brows pinched together in a frown. Was he disappointed I wasn’t looking to get involved, or was he disappointed that I’d even hinted involvement in anything past a one-night stand could have been an option with him?


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