The Hatesick Diaries (St. Mary’s Rebels #5) Read Online Saffron A. Kent

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: St. Mary’s Rebels Series by Saffron A. Kent
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Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
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I’m squirming something fierce now.

At his generous use of the p-word.

Somehow, I still am able to say, all primly, “Patience is a v-virtue.”

He barks out a chuckle, this one humorless. “Yeah, doesn’t feel like one though.” Then, another squeeze of my body. “But I’ll try, Echo. For you. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t, I’ll make you bleed.” Then, “Well, you’ll bleed anyway but still.”

“You don’t… You don’t know that.”

“I do. I do know, Echo. Knowing my godforsaken luck, you’ll cry and you’ll bleed.” Then, “Because of me.”

And God, he looks so regretful at that.

So torn with remorse that I want to tell him that it’s okay.

It’s fine.

So I’ll cry and I’ll bleed, so what? It happens to almost every girl when it’s her first time. I’ve read enough books to know that. I’ve heard enough stories.

“It’s okay,” I say, still grasping his neck, his pulse pounding beneath my hands. “A lot of girls bleed and —”

“No, it’s not,” he says, his jaw ticking. “It’s not okay but I will make it so. I will make it okay, baby.”

I suck my belly in, trembling again.

This time harder than all the other times before because of his endearment.

“How?”

He brings his hands up then, cupping my cheeks.

So softly, so tenderly.

That I want to weep.

“First, I’ll clean you up,” he says, his thumb rubbing over the apple of my cheek. “With the softest of cloths. Made of silk or fur or something. I’ll find one. And then I’ll run you a bath. With bath oils and whatever the fuck girls like. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll ice your pussy, baby. I’ll ice it and then I’ll lick it. I’ll suck it into my mouth to make the sting go away.”

“Reign, please…”

“And if nothing works at all,” he continues, pressing his fingers into my face, “I’ll fucking drink it down.”

“What?”

He brings his lips super close to mine.

Super duper close.

As close as you can get without touching and I hate that.

I want to touch.

I want him to touch my mouth with his.

But all he does is whisper, “I’ll drink it all down. Your tears, your virgin blood, your pussy juice. I’ll fucking bathe in it, whatever you give me, you understand?”

My mouth falls open at what he’s saying.

And I swear, I swear, I taste his blood on my tongue.

As if in solidarity.

“I’ll do anything. If you were mine, I’d do any-fucking-thing to make it all better. If you let me put it in, I’ll do anything to make it all okay.”

The guttural need slashing his face takes my breath away.

It makes me grab onto his wrist and whisper, “Will you…”

He goes all alert when I chicken out from actually saying the words. “Will I what?”

I swallow, dig my nails into his wrist, blush something crazy.

He notices it, the flush on my cheeks, and his eyes go all… liquid again.

All shiny and tender.

And he whispers, “What is it, baby?”

God, what is he doing?

I’m not his baby. I’m not his anything.

I’m not…

And yet, I ask, “Will you wear a condom?”

I don’t know why I asked that. Why it entered my brain.

But it did.

As if all of this is actually happening. As if this is real.

It isn’t.

It’s all make-believe. It’s all his imagination.

He swallows. “You want that? You want me to wear a rubber.”

“Yes.” I nod, my heart pounding inside my chest. “You have to. I’m not… I’m not on the pill and…”

“And what?”

“Y-you’ve been with… other girls.”

There it is. That’s why.

That is why it entered my brain.

Because of other girls. Because of his… escapades, as he put it.

And God, I’m jealous.

I’m so so jealous.

I’m burning with jealousy. Like I was that night.

When he talked about those St. Mary’s girls, even though that was all make-believe too.

Staring into my eyes with his penetrating gaze, he says, “I’m clean. We get tested. For the team.”

“Okay.”

“And I haven’t…”

“Haven’t what?”

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

My heart starts to race because somehow I know how long. But I still ask, “How long?”

He stares into my eyes. “Two years, two months and twenty-five days. Well, kinda even longer than that but yeah.”

Oh God.

He hasn’t… not since the kiss. Not since he kissed me and…

“And before that I’ve never, not ever, done it bareback, Echo. I’ve never fucked a girl skin to skin. Never wanted to. Not only because it’s fucking stupid to do that but also…”

“Also what?”

He goes silent then. So very silent. And a light frown emerges between his brows as if thinking. Then, “I guess, I… Whenever I imagined all the things that I imagined about you, I’d imagine being skin to skin. No barriers. Nothing between us. Not one thing. Not even a thin piece of latex. And even though I knew that I’d never get to be with you, I still held out a stupid fucking hope. I still thought… what if? And so I… I guess I was preparing myself. I was saving that for you.” He scoffs softly then, lost in thought. “Not that it’s an achievement or something, saving that. But yeah, I did. Like you were saving it for me.”


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