Love Hate Relationship (a Colors novel)

by Jessica Prince

  I’d finally had enough.

  “Where are you going?”

  She was in the middle of pulling up her jeans when her head turned and those dark blues hit me. “Home,” she answered mid-yank, her voice coming out bewildered, as though she couldn’t understand why I’d even asked. That just pissed me off more.

  Pulling my hands out from behind my head, I pushed up on my elbows to see her better. The movement caught her attention, and I couldn’t help but grin at the dazed look in her eyes as she stared at my abs like she wanted to lick every inch of them, something I was totally okay with. “You know, you don’t have to run out of here like your ass is on fire the moment I’m done fucking you.”

  Her head jerked back in surprise, I just wasn’t sure if that surprise came from what I’d said, or the hint of agitation in my tone.

  “I don’t run out of here like my ass is on fire,” she objected as she finished with her jeans.

  I scoffed. “Bullshit.”

  “What the hell’s your problem?” she snapped, her hands propped on her hips, all fired up and sexy as hell wearing nothing but her jeans and a white lace bra. My dick twitched under the sheet as I took in every sinfully sweet curve.

  “I don’t have a problem,” I argued just for the sake of arguing. There was no denying I loved getting her riled up.

  “You have to be the only man on Earth who can be in a bad mood after sex.”

  “You could always stay and try to put me in a better mood,” I added with a smirk.

  Navie let out a small laugh and looked at the clock on my nightstand. “It’s already after nine. I hate taking the subway home at night, and I’m not a fan of paying the fare it costs to get from here to my place. You offering to pay for my cab?” she challenged, and I knew she expected me to either pony up the dough or tell her goodnight.

  “Or you could always just stay the night.” She just stared in slack-jawed silence. Obviously, I’d just shocked the hell out of her. Using that to my advantage, I sprung up and wrapped my hand around her wrist, jerking her back into my bed. “Stay the night,” I said against her lips as I reached for the clasp of her bra. I wasn’t above using sex to get my way. Every time I touched Navie, she melted into me, and I was planning on taking full advantage of that. The girl heated up for me in a way that had me in a constant state of arousal. I loved it.

  “I don’t think—”

  I cut her off with a deep kiss. “Don’t think, just stay. I want to be able to slide into that warm pussy in the middle of the night.” Her eyes glazed over and she licked her lips. I just about had her. “Just think about me waking you up with my fingers or my tongue, playing with you, getting you wet before you’re even fully awake so I can fuck you when you’re all sweet and sleepy.”

  “Mmm,” she hummed.

  “Stay the night with me,” I demanded softly, knowing I had her.

  “Okay.”

  With a shit-eating grin, I took her mouth, silently communicating what was soon to come.

  Rowan and I had fallen into a routine over the past four nights. He’d yank me from my work at 5:30 sharp. Some evenings, he’d pounce on me like a mad man, but sometimes it was slow and sweet. It was impossible to pick which was my favorite. We’d clean up, eat dinner—usually something already prepared by Rosa—then we’d spend a few hours lounging around before going to bed, spending the next several hours not sleeping before finally passing out from exhaustion.

  I’d stayed the night with Rowan four times, four times, and not once did things grow awkward once we woke up. I would wake up before him and try to climb out of the bed to no avail. He’d pull me back to him, either grumbling that it was too early, or in the mood to go again—usually the latter. I’d fight him off, climb into the shower, and by the time I was done, he’d be passed out once more, sometimes emitting the most adorable tiny snore as he slept. I’d go about my morning prep before heading to the kitchen to make coffee. The smell of caffeine usually woke him up and he’d come trudging into the kitchen, sleep-mussed and sexy as all get out. Then we’d get into another argument when I informed him my workday started approximately five minutes before he’d pulled his ass out of bed.

  Needless to say, I was beyond elated with the way things were progressing. Day after day, my fears lessened with each sweet kiss or heated look Rowan gave me. After a lifetime of not being good enough, of being tossed aside, I finally felt like I had someone in my life who wanted me. And not in the way a man seeks to protect a woman he feels needs it, but in the way a red-blooded man wants a woman. It was something I’d never experienced before. Rowan liked me for me. I was finally good enough.

  And if I hadn’t already been head over heels in love with the man, that most certainly would have done it.

  As it had quickly become our ‘thing’ after a heated, hard round of kitchen sex the moment the clock hit 5:30, Rowan and I were currently in his living room. He was engulfed in some game on TV—I couldn’t tell you what it was—while I was stretched out, feet in his lap, having changed into a pair of comfy lounge pants and a t-shirt from my overnight bag, with my e-reader in hand, feeding my romance habit. I was just getting to a good part—as in a reeeeeeeeeally good part—when Rowan decided he wanted my attention since his game was on a commercial break.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Reading,” I answered shortly, not wanting to take my eyes away from the screen and risk losing my place.

  “What are you reading?”

  I huffed out an annoyed breath, slightly irritated at the interruption. “A book.”

  “What book?”

  Seriously?

  “The Fall Up.”

  “Who’s it by?”

  “Aly Martinez.”

  “Never heard of her.”

  “Your loss. She’s fantastic.”

  “Is it any good?”

  “Jesus, Rowan!” I shouted, plopping my e-reader on my lap and glaring in his direction. “I didn’t interrupt you when you were watching basketball.”

  “It’s baseball.”

  “Whatever,” I harrumphed with a roll of my eyes. “Can you please be quiet so I can read?”

  He didn’t say another word, so I went back to where I’d left off, eager to see what was happening between Sam and Levee. Just as it was getting really good, the tablet was snatched out of my hands.

  “Hey!”

  Rowan began reading out loud.

  “Levee began a frenzied task of undressing me, not even glancing back up into my eyes until she was satisfied with my jeans, boxers, and socks all laying on the floor at her feet.

  “Jesus, Sam,” she breathed, dropping to her knees and once again gripping my impossibly hard cock.

  “Wait,” I sat up and tried to pull her back to her feet. “I go first. I mean, you go… Son of a…. fuck!” I lost all conscious thought as she dipped her head and circled her tongue around the tip.

  “Your dick’s pierced.” Her hand stroked a relentless rhythm from base to tip.

  “I… fuck… Ugh.” My muscles tensed as I glided through her hand. “Is it? I thought they all looked like that.”

  “So fucking thick.” She went back down for another lick. Collapsing back on the bed, I gave up on my objections.”

  “Holy fuck, woman!” he exclaimed. “What the hell are you reading?”

  “Shut up!” I squealed, climbing to my knees in an attempt to get my tablet back. “Give it back, Rowan!”

  The asshole just kept reading in a poor impression of a phone-sex operator voice.

  “Her fingers continuously circled her clit and I dropped my hand to join it. She was soaked and couldn’t help bringing it to my lips for a taste. “Mmmm.” I purred as she lifted her wet fingers to my mouth offering me a second course that I was more than willing to accept.

  “I fuck you. Then we’re taking a shower. Then I’m eating you until I get hard again.” I glided my cock through her folds. Her head pressed back into the pillow as she arched off the bed
. Bending down, I grazed my teeth roughly over her nipple. “Then we’ll start the cycle over again.”

  He was so engrossed in mocking me that he’d left himself open to retaliation. Lucky for me, he’d decided on basketball shorts instead of jeans. Going for the tiny hairs on his legs, I grabbed hold of as many as I could and yanked.

  “Oww! Mother fuck! Son of a bitch!”

  I snatched my tablet out of the air just as it fell from his hands and jumped from the couch, hoping to escape before he fully recovered. No such luck.

  I let out an oof as his arm caught my waist and jerked me back. I sailed through the air before landing with my back to the cushions of the couch, Rowan’s large body hovering over me, pressing into me.

  “You’ll read that but you won’t read my book?” His voice held humor, letting me know he wasn’t really upset.

  “Well.” I grinned, loving the idea of pushing his buttons. “If you’d write something interesting, maybe I’d read it.”

  Rowan’s fingers dug into my sides. I fought against him as hard as I could, in peals of laughter so loud I was sure the neighbors could hear us.

  “So, that’s the kind of shit you like?” he asked once he was finished tickling.

  I was breathing heavy as I looked into his icy blue eyes. Shrugging nonchalantly, I replied, “Maybe you should consider piercing your…” I trailed off, shooting a knowing look at his crotch. “It could spice things up. You know, make it less vanilla.”

  “Oh, I got your vanilla,” he growled, taking the bait perfectly.

  I latched my limbs around his body as he pushed up, hefting me off the couch. “Where are we going?”

  “Bedroom. I’m about to show you shit you’ve never even imagined. Then we’ll see who’s talking about vanilla.”

  I let out a sharp yelp when his palm came down hard on my ass. The moment the sting subsided, all I could think was, Yay, me!

  Me: Come over

  Navie: Can’t. I have plans.

  Me: Then come over after. You can stay the night. We have a weekend full of non-work hours.

  Navie: Sorry. I have company this weekend. I can’t come over. See you Monday.

  Me: What company? You didn’t tell me you were having company.

  My last text was an hour and a half old, and without a response. I started off curious, but after the first fifteen minutes, that curiosity turned into concern. At the forty-five-minute mark, that concern morphed into agitation. At an hour fifteen, I was just straight up pissed. My mind was all over the place, wondering who the hell she was with and why she hadn’t told me. I felt like I was reliving the past with Bree all over again, only this time, the tension in my chest was almost unbearable.

  It was over a twenty-minute cab ride to Navie’s place in Murray Hill and by the time I got there, I was ready to kick whoever’s ass was encroaching on my territory. I took the stairs up to her apartment like a raging bull preparing to gore the motherfucker standing in front of me.

  I made it to her landing and pounded on her front door, just itching for a fight. And that was exactly what I got. The moment the front door swung open and I was hit with an eyeful of naked chest—naked male chest—my vision went red and I lunged.

  “Motherfucker!” I shouted as I barreled into the guy standing in front of me, slamming my shoulder into his stomach with a satisfying grunt. “I’m gonna kill you!” We went down in a heap onto Navie’s entryway floor. I had to hand it to the dude; I might have caught him off guard, but he rallied quickly, twisting around and landing a right hook that had me seeing stars with a shocked, “What the hell?”

  While we wrestled around on the floor, each of us landing blows, I vaguely registered the sound of feminine screams. I was pretty sure my lip was split, and my eye was hurting like a son of a bitch, but I wasn’t giving up. The guy pinned me in a headlock as he rose to his feet, and I took the opportunity to land a few well-placed punches to his kidney and ribs. And the bastard still didn’t let go.

  “You fuck my girl, I fuck you up!” I voiced in a painful wheeze as he squeezed my neck tighter. At that point, it had become clear I was losing, but I’d be damned if I tapped out before that asshole did.

  I was just two seconds away from taking a cheap shot to his nuts when Navie’s voice cut through the rush of blood raging through my ears.

  “Carson, Rowan, STOP!”

  Carson? Oh, shit!

  “Carson?” I coughed, unable to breathe with the guy’s arm threatening to crush my windpipe. I could only speculate, but I was pretty sure my face was turning purple.

  “Let him go!” another woman yelled, and the arm around my throat instantly loosened. Gulping down air like a man, well, choking, I tilted my head the best I could while still in a headlock to find Navie and a very pregnant woman standing in the middle of the living room, looking like they were about to murder someone.

  “Carson Langford,” the pregnant woman scolded. “I said let him go. Right. Now.”

  “This shithead started it,” the guy—apparently named Carson—said as he released me with a less than friendly shove. I stood straight and turned to see that his face hadn’t fared much better than mine. It shouldn’t have sent a spike of male pride through me, considering I’d just jumped Navie’s fucking brother, but what could I do?

  “Rowan!” Navie screeched, stomping up to me, the look on her face so furious I had to keep myself from cowering. “What the fuck were you thinking? I cannot believe you!”

  “Who the hell is this dickhead?” Carson bit from across the living room where the pregnant lady—his wife Cassidy, I assumed—was examining the cut on his lip.

  “Jesus, I’m sorry, man,” I started, running a hand through my hair as my gaze darted back and forth between him and Navie. “You opened the door without a shirt, and I just… I didn’t realize who you were. I just thought… hell, I don’t know what I thought.”

  “This guy? Seriously?” Carson asked Navie incredulously, and she turned her glare from me to him.

  “For the love of God, will you just please put a damn shirt on!” Looking back at me, she sucked in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as though she were trying to get herself centered. “Rowan—”

  “Rowan!” Carson cut in. “Your douchebag boss, Rowan—?”

  “Carson!” both Navie and Cassidy yelled at the same time. The sting from knowing how she’d once described me to the people she loved settled in the pit of my stomach like rancid meat as Carson continued his tirade.

  “And what the hell’d he mean by my girl? Wait—are you bangin’ your boss?”

  “Carson Langford!” Cassidy scolded loudly. Navie began twisting her hands in front of her in discomfort, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. The sudden shift in her demeanor didn’t sit well with me. I wanted these people to know what Navie meant to me, but based on Carson’s reaction, Navie had been quite upfront about her dislike of me at the start of our working relationship.

  Well, shit. It looked like I was going to have my work cut out for me. But I’d already managed to sway Navie. It was going to take a little more effort, but I was sure I could get Carson and Cassidy to come around to my side eventually, too.

  “Holy fuck!” Carson boomed.

  Or maybe not.

  “What are you thinking, little bit? And you…” He swung a murderous look in my direction. “I’m gonna kick your ass, little boy.”

  “Oh, for the love of—” Navie paused, pinching the bridge of her nose in obvious agitation. “No one is kicking anyone’s ass. And you can’t call him little boy, Carson. For Christ’s sake, he’s taller than you. And older!”

  That gave Carson pause before he asked, “How old?”

  “Thirty-three,” I answered.

  “Thirty-three?” he shouted then pushed against his wife’s hold, speaking in a low, menacing voice. “I’m gonna kill you.”

  My body stiffened, preparing for another throw-down as Navie blocked Carson’s path to me. But it was Cassidy who brought the impending
fight to a halt. “Everybody stop! So help me God, Carson, if you do not calm the hell down right now, I swear, this morning will be the last time you ever see me naked again!”

  “Oh, sweet, merciful, Lord,” Navie prayed, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to find divine intervention.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, that would explain his lack of a shirt.”

  Navie let out an adorable growl. “You don’t talk! Cassidy, will you get some ice for these two idiots’ faces? Rowan and I need to have a little chat.”

  “You got it, sweetie,” she replied as Navie grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward what I could only assume was her bedroom. Under different circumstances, I would have gotten hard from the walk to her room alone, but seeing as I was undoubtedly about to get my ass handed to me, I wasn’t feeling the excitement.

  When she turned to face me after slamming the door, I was overwhelmed by my sudden and intense desire to touch her. Even with her face scrunched in anger and her hands planted on her hips in a don’t fuck with me pose, she was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen. Maybe I needed to have my head examined, because at that very moment, with her standing there pissed to high hell and my face beginning to throb, I couldn’t remember ever wanting her more.

  Yep.

  I was crazy.

  I was furious.

  I was beyond furious.

  Carson was already a pain in my ass when it came to who I dated. No one was ever good enough in his opinion. And having the guy I was currently seeing—the guy I was head over heels in love with, even though I wouldn’t admit it to him—sock my overprotective brother in the face upon meeting him most certainly didn’t scream stellar first impression.

  “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

  “You didn’t return my text,” he answered simply, like that was supposed to explain everything.