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 repeatedly swiped left, my fury mounting with each city that flew past the screen. Honolulu. Singapore. The Maldives.

Every city in his feed was an assignment he’d beaten me out on.

That was why he’d stolen my assignment—for his Europenis Tour. Not only would he get an amazing trip, but he’d also get dick pics he’d make money off of.

I clicked back to the home page to skim over the “tour” list.

The Leaning Tower of Penis.

The Colisemen.

Sistpeen Chapel.

Mount Matterhorny.

Fuckingham Palace.

I went slack-jawed when I noticed he had made the tour announcement a month before Wanderlust had even assigned anyone to the job. The presumptuous dick-swinger. “Oh, That asshole...” That dirty, big-dicked, thieving asshole. “He one hundred percent did this on purpose.”

Margot grinned across the table like the Cheshire Cat’s evil twin. “Blackmail it is, then?”

“Blackmail it definitely is.”

Chapter Four

VANCE

Black Eye Blake was pissed.

I’d heard her huff and puff all morning through the divider. Margot had whispered “dickass” every time she’d passed my cubicle. And after the elevator ride I’d just had with the two of them, I was pretty sure I shouldn’t leave my drink unattended at my desk unless I wanted to chance a dose of cyanide. Of course, my whole “Austria’s not on the agenda” comment didn’t help the cause, but I had a sick thing for the angry blush of hate that painted Blake’s cheeks crimson when I pissed her off. Just like I had a thing for the way the hot-pink dress pants she had on that day hugged her ass. One would think after the entire New Year’s knockout, my dick would have known better than to react to her, but lust was an idiot, and I evidently was its puppet because I’d never found another woman more attractive than I did her.

I ducked off the busy sidewalk and into the Electric Iguana. Lively mariachi music replaced the hum of traffic.

Theo sat at our usual booth in the back, his fingers going wild over his phone. “Why are the hot ones always so insane?” he mumbled, glancing up from the device when I took a seat in the booth across from him. “Hey, man.”

A new string of messages dinged his phone.

Groaning, he dragged his hands through his short-cropped hair, then placed the device facedown beside the basket of tortilla chips.

“Who have you pissed off now, Theo?”

“Number Nine.” He took the salt and dumped it over the chips.

“You don’t even know her name?”

Theo had to be the biggest manwhore to walk the streets of Manhattan. Nevertheless, women—including “number nine”—couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

“Why in the hell do girls fool with you?”

“I’m irresistible.”

I snorted. “You’re an asshole.”

“Me? I’ve never had a girl give me a black eye for trying to kiss her,” he said, cramming a handful of chips into his mouth.

That was right. The reason Blake had punched me on New Year’s Eve was that I’d tried to kiss her. Does it sound extreme? Yes, but it was Blake we were talking about. I’d worked on the other side of the cubicle from her long enough to know she was anything but reasonable. She was a ball of uncontained chaos bottled in a curvy, five-foot-one frame. She reacted first. Thought later.

She had an irrational fear of pigeons. She hated shrimp and loved lo mein. She preferred to read smutty romance and occasionally a Stephen King novel. Dumb and Dumber was her all-time favorite movie, and she could quote every single line. And even though she’d nailed me in the eye, I couldn’t help but have a thing for her.

“I still stand by the fact that had you gone in for the fuck instead of a smoochy-smoochy, she wouldn’t have punched you.”

Because a man attempting to kiss a woman he barely knows was more insulting than him trying to fuck her? “You’re an idiot.”

He scooped half of the cheese dip onto a chip. “I’ve told you my go-to line with a girl is, ‘It’s okay, baby, I heard you were easy.’ Do they get pissed? Yes. Do they leave all huffy and puffy? Yes. Do they call me the next day?” He lifted a brow before stuffing the chips into his mouth. “You bet your raw dick they do.”

The man had zero morals, and I often questioned what kind of person I was since he was not only my roommate but my chosen best friend.

I reached for the chips. “You realize you are the definition of an asshole?”

“Confucksius says, ‘To get one’s dick sucked, he must first be a dick.’”

And maybe that was my problem. I didn’t just want my dick sucked. The whole one-night stand and short-lived relationships had grown old a long time ago. I wanted a girl I could wake up next to, drink coffee with, a girl who would laugh so hard at sophomoric humor she’d snort.


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