Office Hate: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Rachel Van Dyken

  A little growl escaped my lips when Mark’s truck disappeared down the street. He was probably getting out early so he could hang out with friends, which he still had because he got off on time. Meanwhile, I hadn’t seen Amelia since last weekend, and even then, she was acting like something was wrong and kept checking her phone. She finally came up with this lame-ass excuse of not feeling well and left me alone at the bar to fend for myself.

  Well, I guess I wasn’t totally by myself since Mark had stopped by to punish me with his good looks, killer smile, and all-around annoying presence.

  “This seat taken?” He’d grinned.

  I glared. “It was.”

  “Hmm, looks empty, feels empty, seems like you’re all by yourself, Olive.”

  “Don’t call me Olive. It’s not my name. Amelia just left because she didn’t feel good and—”

  His expression darkened. “Let me guess she suddenly came down with something, oh… say around two minutes ago?”

  “Yes.” How did he know?

  His eyes pierced through mine as a slow lazy smile appeared across his face. “Interesting…”

  “What is?”

  “Nothing…” he said slowly as he reached over and downed the rest of my beer, setting an empty glass back in front of me. “See ya around, Olive.”

  I swear I was shaking by the time he sauntered off.

  My heart pounded against my ribs.

  And for whatever reason, I wanted to run after him, climb his body like a tree, then wrap my legs around his waist. It would be a moment of pure sexual need fulfillment followed by his death.

  I’d black widow him.

  But I’d at least I’d know what all the fuss was about.

  Nobody was that good at sex. Nobody.

  “Olivia!” My boss Mathew came jogging down the hall in his perfect black suit with his dark hair swept to the side and his tanned skin glowing like he’d just got back from the beach. Could his sparkling white teeth be any more capped?

  “Yes?” I met his gaze.

  He was in his late thirties, had two kids, and a wife who was a walking poster for fillers. To this day, I still had no clue if she was older or younger than him.

  “Glad I caught you before you left…” He motioned me into the downstairs finance office; it was empty as he led me toward the large wooden desk.

  He sat in the chair behind the desk and smiled. “You’ve been doing a really good job, Olivia.”

  “Wow, thank you.” I beamed, glad he appreciated all the little extra things I’d been doing around the place. Whether it be making sure the snack section of the waiting room was constantly full or water bottles handed out to the sales floor when it was hot, but I’d been trying.

  “In fact—” He stood abruptly and moved behind me to close the one massive blind that overlooked the sales floor. “—I have a proposition for you…”

  Proposition almost sounded like promotion! I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I sat straighter in my chair, my lips parting ready to accept, when I felt his hand touch the back of my neck as he leaned down behind me and whispered, “You want to move up the ladder…” He tugged a wisp of my hair as goosebumps of terror rose over my body. “Nobody has to know what you did to get the next opening in marketing…besides, most everyone’s gone home.” He moved to face me. His gross smile widened like I’d already given in when I was too busy freaking out and looking for an exit.

  I slowly stood. “I’m not into doing sexual favors for a promotion, Mathew. Especially considering you’re married.”

  “Oh, that.” He waved his hand dismissively, a bored expression on his face. “We have an open marriage. Very open.”

  Disgusting. “Good for you.” I eased from my chair to the door and pushed it open a crack.

  “You walk out of here, and you’re fired,” he threatened in a low voice.

  “Guess I am, you asshole,” I muttered under my breath as I walked to my desk and grabbed my purse, lunch, and coffee mug.

  Tears streamed down my face as I got into my parents’ Prius, ready to drive back to the house.

  Guess I got off early like Mark.

  Only I got fired.

  And he still had a job.

  Pissed, I made an abrupt turn off the main highway and headed toward the seedy bar Amelia and I frequented. It was a short drive, and in under two minutes, I made it to the parking lot, where I parked and cut the engine. In a full-on fury, I climbed out and slammed the door, stomping my heels as I crossed the lot and jerked open the door. Squinting until my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I continued stomping my way to the bar, ready to rage at the bartender and use him or her as my therapist.

  “Double,” I announced before the bartender could ask.

  The bartender smirked. “Of?”

  Could he tell I didn’t do this often? “Wh-whiskey.”

  He sighed in annoyance. “What kind of whiskey?”

  “Oh well…” I thought about it. “What kinds do you h—”

  “She’ll have Maker’s Mark,” came a familiar voice behind me.

  With a groan, I turned around to see my nemesis holding a beer and smiling at me like this was the best day of his life.

  “Mark,” I said in a chilly voice.

  “Olivia,” he deadpanned and then took the seat next to me. “What brings you to this side of town so early in the day?”

  I had a vibrant daydream of clocking him in the face with my purse before answering. “If you must know, I chose to quit my job after my boss came on to me…he made it sound like I would get a promotion; you know all I have to do is suck old man dick.”

  Mark choked on his next drink and started coughing. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “No.” My eyes did that watery thing again, which was so not crying! “I mean, I wish I was kidding, so I left, and rather than go to my parents’ house at five announcing my failure as a college graduate, I ended up here, at the dive bar. I’m sure they’d be proud.”

  Mark shoved the shot glass into my face. “Drink and forget.”

  “Drink and forget.” I lifted the shot and swallowed; it burned down my throat.

  I was rummaging through my purse for cash to pay when Mark grabbed my wrist and gently took my purse, setting it on the floor. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “No, you don’t have—”

  “Stay.” His eyes locked on mine with such intensity that my mouth went completely dry. “You’re not the only one who’s unemployed.”

  “Wait, what?” I scooted closer as he held up his fingers for two more shots, and then I listened as he talked about his experience at Fancy Fred’s.

  “He sounds like a prick,” I said an hour later, tears of laughter running down my cheeks. Yeah, I might be a bit tipsy.

  “Right?” Mark lifted his shot glass back, his throat moving as he worked the alcohol down,

  I could almost imagine a scenario where a bead of whiskey rolled down that perfect throat, and in an effort to save all mankind from destruction, I offer to remove said drop of whiskey…with my tongue, only to find out that my touch is the only thing needed to save Mark from the zombie apocalypse. Well, that and my body.

  All of a sudden, I see hands in front of my face. Mark’s huge hands. “Yo, you literally just spaced out for a solid three minutes.”

  “Too much of this.” I jabbed a finger at the shots.

  Mark smirked and then unsteadily stood, snatched my keys from the counter, and did something on his cell.

  “Gotta pee,” I blurted, then stumbled toward the bathroom feeling like my mind was going to explode. Was I having a panic attack? Was it the alcohol? And why the hell was I smiling at myself in the mirror? I did my business then came back to the bar top almost missing the stool as I plopped down and smiled.

  “Heyyyyyy.” I leaned toward him.

  “Heyyyyyy.” He copied me. “I’m calling us an Uber, all right?”

  “Good idea.” I yawned. “I need a Red Bull. ’Scuse me, si
r?” I rapped my knuckles on the countertop. “A Red Bull?”

  One came sliding down the bar top. Mark intercepted it, cracked it open, chugged half, then handed it to me.

  I grumbled something like germs and then felt my entire body tense up when I put the can to my mouth.

  It was almost like kissing him.

  What was I thinking?

  I hated him!

  I did not want to kiss him.

  Ever.

  I jumped a foot when Mark’s hand came out to the small of my back to steady me. “It’s almost here.”

  “Oh, I need to pay—”

  “Took care of it when you were in the bathroom,” he said simply.

  “But the Red Bull,” I argued.

  “I slid him a five. We’re all good.” He put his hands on my shoulders and led me out of the bar into the night.

  It was still lightish out even though it was around eight.

  A nice black chevy SUV pulled up. “You Mark?”

  “Yup.” Mark opened my door for me. I slid across the leather, suddenly exhausted, and once Mark was sitting next to me, and we were moving, I laid my head on his shoulder.

  And it wasn’t my imagination. He laid his head on top of mine like we’d done it a million times.

  And then maybe whiskey made people hallucinate, but my hand was moving across my own lap and onto his!

  Traitorous body parts!

  His leg tensed, and then his hand slowly moved to my thigh, gripping it with capable fingertips, digging in just enough for me to wonder if he was going to slide his hand up.

  Damn it, my Spanx!

  Why did I have to be wearing Spanx?

  This was the wrong time!

  Bad timing.

  I slowly started to pant as his hand slid higher, and then I may have let out a moan and arched a bit as he exhaled across my neck, his tongue finding a sensitive spot below my ear that had lust pounding through my system.

  “My roommate’s gone,” he blurted once the SUV stopped in front of a nice apartment complex that I’d checked out earlier that year. It was right on a lake and newer construction.

  “Okay.” My mouth was making decisions my body most definitely could not cash out. I mean, right?

  I was going alone into Mark’s apartment.

  By choice!

  And he was holding my hand.

  I looked down at our hands pressed together and felt like I was living outside my body; how did I get from a potential car ride home to walking into enemy territory?

  He unlocked the door to 2C and let me in.

  Darkness blanketed everything as the door clicked shut. I could feel his body heat as he stood behind me, then put his hand on my shoulders.

  I let out a little shudder then asked, “Which one’s your room?”

  Mark spun me around so fast I nearly fell, only to have him brace me up against the closest wall, his mouth molded against mine.

  “Can’t wait,” he said between kisses, and then he hiked up my dress.

  Oh. Shit.

  Chapter Three

  Mark

  Was I really doing this? Seducing the girl who had driven me crazy for four straight years of college only to continue on with her torture by working across the street from me?

  But God, I’d wanted her since Freshman year.

  She was so soft in my hands as our mouths fused together. She didn’t try to force her tongue in my mouth but let me coax her into submission as I pressed my body against hers. My dick couldn’t get any harder, at least so I thought.

  And then, I slid my hands up her thighs and felt something. “What’s this?”

  “Oh shit,” she mumbled. “That is, those are, I mean—”

  “Are you wearing Spanx?” I asked with a giant uncontainable grin.

  Her cheeks flushed bright red. “Let me just go—”

  “Oh no.” I kept her pinned in place. “Allow me…”

  “Mark,” she warned.

  “Olivia,” I moaned, using one hand to find the top of the high-waisted Spanx and tugging them down her perfect ass. “We all have our kink.”

  “Wait, what did you just say?” Her eyes widened.

  “I always imagined peeling these torture devices off a sexy as hell woman and being the guy that got to kiss his way around all that punished skin, all those gorgeous, trapped curves. It’s like my fucking birthday.” I shuddered against her when I was able to pull the rest of the black Spanx off her feet. Then I tossed them midair and slowly unzipped the back of her dress, bringing the zipper down, down, down… until I grabbed at the front scoop neck top, pulling the loose dress off and shoving it to the floor.

  She was wearing a black strapless bra, her chest rising and falling like a hummingbird’s wings.

  We locked eyes. Hers had always been this almost cruelly cold blue color that had me transfixed since our first fight.

  My gaze finally left hers to drink in the rest of her curvy body. There were small imprints on her stomach from the Spanx. I went to my knees and pressed tiny kisses across the poor skin, while I flicked the strapless bra off with glee.

  “That tickles.” She squirmed beneath my mouth and then stopped squirming when I finally lowered my gaze.

  I suddenly felt a bit dizzy.

  How much had we drunk anyway?

  She stumbled forward. I barely caught her before we fell back against the floor, her on top of my throbbing erection, completely naked.

  “We doing this?” She threw her hair over her shoulder in an attempt, I think maybe, to look sexy but just ended up making me smile at how cute she was as she tugged at the front of my jeans, freeing me.

  Eyes wide.

  Mouth open.

  “Sorry.” She wrapped a hand around my cock and squeezed. “This won’t work.”

  “Are you talking to my penis?”

  “Shhhh…” She waved me off with her free hand. “I’m having a conversation.”

  I burst out laughing.

  We really should not be having drunken sex. Then again, sometimes that was the best kind especially when a hot as fuck girl starts talking to your cock, her mouth constantly touching the tip with her whispers. How’d she know that was a fantasy I had?

  I grabbed her hand and moved it up and down.

  She locked eyes with me and then very slowly lowered her mouth.

  “Y-yessss.” I nearly blacked out as she bobbed her head, cupping my balls and sucking so hard I couldn’t think straight. “Olivia—”

  Suddenly she slowed down.

  And then stopped.

  “Olivia?” Her mouth was still partially on me, and her head was resting against my stomach as her chest rose and fell. “Holy shit, did you just pass out with my dick in your mouth?”

  Yup, taking this story to my grave.

  I mean, seriously?

  A snore erupted between her full lips, and then I laid back down on the carpet and let out a pained laugh.

  Sadly, I got her mouth off my cock got to my feet, still feeling the effects of all the whiskey, scooped her up into my arms, and started toward the bedroom.

  I stumbled a bit, swinging her body to the side. Her head collided with the doorframe before I winced and tried turning us to the side. “That’s gonna bruise.”

  “Hmmmmm?” She opened her eyes. “That was so good.”

  “Yeah, the best. I rocked your world.” I smiled.

  “We should do that again. Mmmmm, you smell so nice, taste good too for someone I hate.”

  “Bad boys always taste better, Olivia, thought every girl knew that,” I teased as I laid her in my bed and pulled up the covers.

  “Stay!” She gripped my arm and tugged me down next to her.

  So bossy.

  So warm, I amended as I ducked under the covers and pulled her into my arms. So pretty.

  She tucked her head under my chin and whispered, “Night, bad boy.”

  “Night, Olive.”

  “Olivia,” she grumbled.

&nbs
p; I chuckled softly. Even drunk, she corrected me.

  “Olivia,” I said the name reverently, then kissed her on the top of the head, passing out into oblivion and feeling content for the first time in years.

  Chapter Four

  Olivia

  “My heeeaaad…” I mumbled as I reached for my cell, only to hit a body instead. A body?

  I jolted up just in time to see Mark open his sleepy blue eyes and groan. “It’s two a.m. Go back to sleep before I strangle you.”

  “Not before I strangle you,” I grumbled under my breath.

  “Would you be naked?” Mark asked and then frowned. “What are you searching for?”

  “An extra fluffy pillow to hold over your mouth,” I said, unable to keep the tired out of my voice.

  “Olivia.” He grabbed my wrist and tugged me back down against the mattress. “I plugged your phone in after I got up with a pounding headache at midnight. I also left two aspirin by your nightstand. Oh, and your mom called; I answered and told her that you’d had a rough day and are crashing at Amelia’s house, so not to worry… I’m a serious catch!”

  My eye started to twitch. “You talked to my mom?”

  He leaned up on an elbow and winked. “Oh yeah, and I also told her about the surprise pregnancy and shotgun wedding. Hope that’s cool.”

  I clenched my teeth. “We didn’t even get that far last night.”

  He grinned, all nonchalant. “How do you know?”

  My memory was fuzzy, but I most definitely did have my mouth on his giant cock at one point, and I imagined it inside me. I’d closed my eyes in a vain attempt to visualize how good it would feel to have that massive thing inside me, stretching me wide and…

  I gasped.

  “Yes?” Mark smiled up at me. “Memory coming back?”

  “Tell me I didn’t.” I covered my face with my shaking hands. “Tell me I didn’t fall asleep on you!” Not to mention his dick. I fell asleep on it. Oh God, had it been in my mouth? Was I a sleep sucker? I could never show my face again!

  The room was quiet, and then Mark cleared his throat. “I mean, it was good until you started to snore. My dick may never perform again, went into hiding right after. I mean, if he can’t even get you to stay awake, he needs to really evaluate his life choices.”