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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He nipped at my clit while burying his fingers deep inside me and sending a final jolt through me. “You’ve got a greedy little pussy...”

I tugged on his hair and lost all inhibition. My hips bucked against his mouth. I didn’t care how loud the moans falling from my lips were or that his name was strung up between them. He’d reduced me to primal urges with a flick of his tongue. To a savage, desperately chasing the release only he could give.

Heat spread from my thighs, tension twisting so tight it felt like I’d snap in two. And then it all released like a supernova.

I closed my eyes and dragged my hands down my face. Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fucking fuck fuck! And yes, every single explicative was necessary to describe what had just happened. I’d come so hard that black spots had dotted my vision. My ears were still ringing.

If the man were a drug, he’d, hands down, be heroin, and I’d be hooked from one swipe of his tongue.

“Good girl,” he said, placing one last kiss to my pussy. And that was the icing on top of the dirty-sex cake I’d just shoved my face in—well, technically, he’d just shoved his face in.

“I’m giving you two minutes to recover…” He wiped the corners of his mouth. “And then I’m eating your pussy again.”

No, he was getting three seconds before I ripped off his pants and mounted him like I was the Lone Ranger. Hi ho, Silver, away! That was what he was getting.

I dug my heel into the mattress to push myself up, but I must have underestimated how much that orgasm had loosened my muscles because my foot slipped right off the edge of the bed at the same time that he sat back on his heels and went for his belt buckle.

I watched in horror as my foot connected with his face, knocking him flat on his ass. He clasped a hand to his nose.

“Oh, shit.” I scrambled off the bed. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled his hand away, staring at his blood-covered palm. “I’m starting to believe in your curse.”

Needless to say, after the busted-nose incident, I did not ride his cock like the Lone Ranger. I did, however, get ice to help with the swelling and grabbed some toilet tissue for him to shove up his nostrils. Then, out of guilt, I let him lay on the bed with me and watched a French version of The Simpsons until he dozed off.

Okay, so we were in bed together, the bed I’d had the most incredible orgasm of my life on. No big deal. No big deal at all.

We were adults. Adults could do things like that and then be perfectly normal around each other.

The foreign-sounding wail of an ambulance echoed up from the streets below, reminding me we weren’t in New York. And what in the hell was going to happen when we were back?

Fidgeting with my hands, I stared at the ceiling. I’d crossed the line with Vance, but surely the fact that we were on a different continent gave me some loophole? Kind of like the whole “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” thing… Amanda reiterating that the company frowned on interoffice relationships played on a loop in my head. Dear Lord. This little tryst had to stay in Paris because Wanderlust had basically just paid me to come all over Vance’s pretty, smirk-riddled face. That had to be a fireable offense.

“You’re screwed, Blake,” I whispered into the dark. Screwed because I felt comfortable around him, and he made me laugh, and honestly, I was struggling to fathom things going back to being strictly professional hate between us. Great, I was evidently batshit crazy like Choke Me Barbie. And he hadn’t even choked me. Yet.

Yet…

I was pretty sure I’d wake up in the morning and choke his dick down like it was a tasty, crème-filled beignet. How could I possibly sit in the office and eat a banana at the conference table around him after that? More importantly, how in the world was I supposed to stop myself from wanting to date him?

Date him? Date him?

Forty-eight hours, one orgasm, a handful of questions, and I’d gone off the deep end. This was supposed to be my Eat, Pray, Love moment where I found myself, not where I buried myself deeper into a pile of corn-riddled shit. Because that was exactly what it would turn out to be. A dinosaur-sized poo patty that I could bury myself in.

With my luck, he’d end up coming to a family dinner and falling in love with Grace or maybe even my mother. Hell, based on how much I enjoyed his company, why stop with my mother? He could very well fall in love with Nana. But what I was more afraid of was, what if I fell in love with him?


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