HATE ME: a bad boy romance novel

by Jaxson Kidman

  I felt my hot cum spill into her tender body.

  Violet let out a whimpering yell and arched her back. I felt her hips start to quiver as she reached her own climax at the same time as me. That meant her sweet cunt was now throbbing against my cock, coaxing all my release out.

  I stayed right there and fucked her slower by the second.

  Each time I pressed forward she let out a groan.

  It was driving me insane. It was like a dagger to my heart, cutting and slicing.

  I finally thrust inside her and held there. I stopped. I stared down at her.

  Shit got way too real for that moment.

  I pulled out of her and moved away from the bed.

  There was a mess all over my bed and I was perfectly fine with that.

  “I can’t move,” Violet whispered. “I think I’m dead.”

  I walked to the bed and reached for her chest. I put my hand against her chest and felt her heart pounding.

  “Far from it, babe,” I said.

  “I still can’t move.”

  Something came over me and next thing I knew I was lifting her up. My hands scooping under her body and picking her up. We were both naked, her arms flying around my neck. I held her and walked her to my bathroom and paused.

  “I don’t have fruity girly shampoo,” I said. “But you’re more than welcome to shower. Unless you want me to walk you home like this.”

  “Stop,” she said. “I’ll get, uh, cleaned up… and go.”

  “Go? Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

  Stop caring, Mason. Stop asking fucking questions. Get her out of the damn apartment.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I just… I should go. Right?”

  “No,” I said. “Stay. Right in bed with me.”

  “What?”

  “Sleepover,” I whispered. “Just tonight.”

  I put her on her feet and then shut the bathroom door.

  I stood there, making a fist and put it to my forehead. I couldn’t let anything happen. I touched my chest, my fingers against the tattoo.

  Never again.

  I backed away from the door and turned around. I looked at the laptop on the dresser. That’s when an idea came to me. I grabbed it and put it on the nightstand.

  Violet emerged from the bathroom wearing one of my towels. She was nothing but temptation. It was funny to me that she had white towels in her bathroom and I had black ones in mine.

  There were a few weird seconds of silence before I climbed onto my bed and gave a nod.

  “Are you getting dressed?” she asked.

  “I sleep naked,” I said.

  She bit her lip. Her thoughts were already starting to line up with mine.

  Before she got into the bed I grabbed the towel and ripped it off her beautiful body.

  “So… the wait,” I whispered as we got under the covers. Violet was facing me. “I don’t get it, but I’m glad you’re done.”

  “I guess I just didn’t find the right guy,” she said.

  “You still didn’t. You settled. And that’s okay to do.”

  “Mason…”

  “No, Violet. I warned.”

  She then made a bold move and touched my chest. Right at the tattoo. “Is this the date…”

  I grabbed her hand. “Stop right now. That’s not how we do this.”

  “Then how do we do this?” she asked.

  “Roll over to your belly,” I said.

  “Okay.”

  I had her. I broke open that cage she kept the vixen in for so many years. I peeled the covers down her body. Goddamn, the sight of her back and ass… the way her hair fell down her back…

  I gritted my teeth.

  I threw my right leg over her body and pressed my cock against her hip.

  “Mason…”

  “You didn’t think it was going to be once, did you?”

  “Shit,” she groaned.

  I moved more over her body, using my knees to open her legs. She quickly propped herself up on her elbows and looked back at me.

  My cock was swelling, easily filling right back up.

  I reached forward and hit a button on the laptop. The screen came alive, showing right where Violet had paused the video I had been blasting to get her attention and her jealousy.

  I hit the button again and the porn started to play.

  Violet’s cheeks flushed. “What are…”

  I grabbed my cock and placed it right to her tender slit. She was wet again. Soaking wet.

  “You like it, don’t you?” I asked.

  The woman on the screen was really taking it hard and fast. Yelling and screaming.

  “I want you to be louder than her,” I said.

  I thrust forward and slowly entered Violet again. She was as tight as the first time. Her body quivered as she groaned, still trying to figure out how to take me without feeling pain. That would be cured with time and practice.

  I got on my knees and I grabbed her hips, pulling her up to her knees.

  I started to fuck her, wanting to hear her scream my name. The porn on the laptop quickly became background noise for us as I had her again. It only took me a few minutes of fucking Violet to get annoyed with the laptop noise. I reached and slammed it shut, swiping it off the nightstand. I grabbed Violet by the hair and thrust deep into her and held there.

  “Listen to me, Violet,” I growled. “All I want to fucking hear are your screams. Not some fucking random woman from a bar. Not some fucking woman on a web site. Your screams. Got it?”

  “Yes!” she yelled.

  I released my hold on her hair and went back to her waist.

  I fucked her until I came, filling her innocent core with more of my cum. I couldn’t stop fucking her either. Even after I was done. My cock begged for a break, but I refused to give in. I didn’t stop until Violet finally reached back and put her hand to my stomach. Her fingers were shaking. She was sweating. She was out of breath. Her legs were weak.

  I pulled out of her and she fell to the bed. I climbed off her and was then next to her. I pulled the covers up and leaned forward, kissing her shoulder.

  “Sleep tight, Violet,” I said with a grin on my face.

  She then pulled out another surprising move. On her left side, she reached back with her right hand. She grabbed my hand and interlocked our fingers together. I let it happen and remained there until she was fast asleep. Then I broke our hands apart.

  I couldn’t let that shit happen overnight.

  There was only one woman I ever did that with.

  Violet didn’t need to be the second.

  I needed to just end it for good and let her find true happiness.

  It was still dark when I got out of bed. I grabbed my jeans and hurried to sneak a t-shirt out of a drawer. I was then gone, out of my own fucking bedroom. I got dressed in the living room and grabbed the keys to my truck. This was a new one for me. I was ditching on a woman who was in my bed.

  I didn’t want to do the next morning thing with Violet. I had no clue how to handle it. Fuck, I didn’t want to handle it. She wanted my cock, I wanted her cherry. We sealed the deal twice. But I didn’t need her goddamn innocent eyes staring into mine, trying to cut into me. Asking about the date tattooed on my chest. I should have never told her about my fucking parents.

  I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a quick note to her.

  Work thing… had to leave. Help yourself to whatever you want here.

  I read the note and then reached into my pocket. I threw some cash on the counter.

  Then I went back to writing.

  Don’t have much though. Get something for breakfast. On me.

  It took me until I was halfway to the shop did I realize it was almost like calling Violet a whore. Like I paid her for the great sex.

  That made me laugh.

  I went to the shop, sat at my desk, and put my feet up. I sat there in the darkness, fighting away thoughts. Sleep eventually took me.

  All I could drea
m about was fucking Violet again… and again… and again…

  22

  Letters to Someone Else

  (Violet)

  I woke up and was alone. In Mason’s bed. In Mason’s apartment. I felt hungover, but I hadn’t been drinking. My body felt hungover. Not my head. But my body… between my legs. I was a little sore, but more tingly as I thought about what had happened.

  I threw the covers off myself and found my PJ bottoms and my shirt.

  I went to the bathroom for my morning pee and went out the other door.

  There was no sign of Mason anywhere.

  “Mason?” I yelled out. “Hello?”

  Part of me hoped he was out getting us coffee and some food. Something sweet and romantic, you know? Like guys did in the movies. But it was Mason. He was full of surprises.

  Then again, I was alone in his place.

  If I was going to play the games he did… I set my sights to the bathroom and then to his bedroom. He had been in my apartment and stole a pair of my panties. So I was going to do the same to him. Yeah, I knew he didn’t wear boxers all that much, but he still had to have some. I was going to steal a pair and then send him a picture.

  The first drawer I opened was the jackpot.

  It turned me on a little to be snooping and digging through his boxers. The first pair I grabbed, there was something under them. A piece of paper. I noticed then there were several pieces of paper.

  Notes.

  I grabbed on and looked at myself in the mirror. I unfolded the piece of paper, knowing I was probably crossing a line. But I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know about Mason.

  Did he write poetry or something?

  I looked down and saw it was a letter.

  Written to someone named Kate.

  I unfolded a couple more letters and they were all written to the same person.

  To Kate.

  I hurried to fold them all back up except the first one I had found.

  I did a little stutter step as I debated on what I should do. The right thing would be to put the letter away. And then wait for Mason to come back and try to talk to him.

  Kate.

  It just stuck with me. A woman’s name.

  I looked down at the letter.

  I couldn’t help myself as I started to read.

  Kate,

  What a ride it’s been the last little bit here. I keep trying to defy time. I keep doing everything I can to waste it. Yet there are people who would give anything for more time, right? I’m sorry, but I laughed as I wrote that. I’m such a dick still. That side will never go away. I can’t control what’s inside me and what I do to let shit off my shoulders.

  I went for a ride today to just get away from the shop. The noise. The paperwork. Shit, I keep saying it, but you would be amazed at what I’ve built. I’m amazed at it. These guys are good people and work their ass off for me. Sometimes I can’t believe I used to put firecrackers in frogs mouths for fun. Or that time I made a slingshot and tortured the squirrels for a little while. Pegging them and trying to knock them out of the tree. Remember the beating I took for that?

  Scars, right?

  Remember what you told me about scars? That they were visible memories. Some good, some bad, some funny. The scar on my knee when I learned how to ride without training wheels. The scar on my left ass cheek from when I broke into that pool for a swim with some chick and had to jump a fence from a dog and the top sliced my ass cheek.

  Damn, I really find it harder to get through the days without you. I shouldn’t be writing that. I shouldn’t be thinking it. But it’s there. It’s just resting on my heart, weighing me down.

  You never finished the job with me. The hate took back over again. It’s like an addiction, Kate. To see pain in other’s eyes. I don’t know how to explain it. To get someone to hate me… that was all I knew to get attention. And then if they hate me, they’ll leave me alone. I won’t have to tell my story and hear the bullshit. You never gave me bullshit for it. I got too close didn’t, I? I still think about it. What if I didn’t get close? Would you…

  Who am I kidding?

  I just punched a wall. How stupid of a thing for me to write. I’m sorry. I promised myself that I would forever write to you. That I would give you all the good to read. But I can’t find good sometimes, Kate. Sometimes never. I just go about my way, killing time, chasing women to ease up on the pain. It’s like a free fucking drug for me. I just keep taking the hits, taking what I want, and I keep waiting for something to come crashing down on me.

  You told me that you believed written words could be read even if someone wasn’t here. I don’t know if I believe that. I could be writing this for nobody. Just wasting more time. But there’s a chance you might read these words so I have to keep writing them.

  That’s all I got, Kate.

  I have to meet someone tonight for work. He has a bunch of motorcycles he wants done up. It’s a big deal. Hunter told me to wear something nice because the restaurant is some fancy place. I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt. My usual. I’ll forever wear that shit, Kate.

  I’d give anything to see you again. To hear your laugh. To ask you a damn question. Even if your answers usually pissed me off.

  I’ll write again soon.

  Mason

  I folded the letter and put it back in the drawer. I took out two more letters and they were written the same way. Written to Kate. Talking about his life. Talking about time. They all came with the implication that he was going to mail them to her.

  Why didn’t he mail them to her? And who was Kate? Where was she now?

  I thought I heard a noise from the kitchen so I scrambled to put everything away, including the pair of boxers I planned on stealing.

  It just didn’t feel right.

  I crept through the apartment and found Mason’s note, along with some cash.

  Forty dollars.

  Forty dollars and some lame excuse, so he didn’t have to face me in morning.

  It made me feel cheap and used.

  But what else did I expect with Mason?

  He wasn’t going to surprise me with bagels and coffee. Some romantic morning conversation. No. He was going to hide himself from me. Or break into my apartment to put roses on my counter because jealousy got the best of him.

  I crumbled up the money and threw it across the counter.

  I grabbed the pen and wrote i hate you in big letters.

  Then I went home.

  I told myself I was fine. I didn’t need Mason or his cryptic life. Or the letters he wrote to someone else.

  But I was wrong… I couldn’t stand to not be with him.

  I put my key in the ignition and turned. I shut my eyes and whispered some kind of lame prayer. The car turned over and started. I sighed in relief and put my hands to the dash.

  “Just a little bit longer,” I said.

  Once the app hit, Victoria and I were going to do just fine. There were some people that scored tens of millions. Our investor suggested it was possible. I’d settle to buy a new car, a house, and get away from Mason for good.

  Mason.

  It always came back to him.

  I had to drive home now.

  Everything was out of mine and Victoria’s hands now. It was down to timing and launching the app at the right time. Then we’d wait and check the results. In the meantime Victoria was on a plane flying to Miami for a little fun. She begged me to go, even offering me a ticket, but I resisted.

  I regretted it the second my car decided to give me problems.

  It had done the not starting thing a couple times before, but I ignored it. Today it happened three times. Two of those times I was stranded for almost thirty minutes each, waiting for the car to decide to work.

  When I got home, I ran right into Mason.

  He was in the hallway holding a bag of takeout food.

  “You’re home late,” he said.

  “I’m sorry, should I have left you a note?” I shot
back at him.

  He grinned. “Fair enough. Everything okay?”

  “You don’t care, Mason.”

  “Try me.”

  “My car is acting up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Won’t start. Then it does. I don’t know. I don’t know a thing about cars.”

  “I do,” he said. “I can take a look at it for you.”

  “See, what is that?”

  “What is what?” he asked, sighing.

  “You offering to help me. Yet the other morning you just took off. Left me money like I was some call girl.”

  “Dammit,” he growled. “That wasn’t my intention.”

  “Then what was your intention?”

  “Maybe to avoid hurting you.”

  “Hurting me? So you abandon me.”

  “I didn’t abandon you, Violet. You were in my apartment. You live next door.”

  “You’re a mystery and I fucking hate it, Mason.”

  “I’m not a mystery.”

  I wanted to bring up the letters I found - Dear Kate - but I held back.

  “Whatever,” I said. “I’ll figure out my car tomorrow then. I’m tired.”

  “Did you eat dinner?”

  “I’ve got bread and peanut butter and jelly,” I said. “I’ll survive.”

  Mason lifted the bag up. “I ordered with my stomach. No way I’m eating all of this.”

  “So, what, is this a date?”

  “Jesus, Violet,” he said. “It’s food. I’m offering you food. You had a shit day. I’m sorry your car broke down. I’m offering to help. What the fuck? Not everything comes wrapped in a wedding proposal, okay?”

  “Asshole,” I said. I unlocked my apartment door. I paused and looked at him. “Do you have General Tso’s in there?”

  “Of course I do,” Mason said.

  “Fine. Come in.”

  The takeout containers were on the counter, flaps opened, stained red and brown. I started to collect them when Mason snuck up behind me and slipped his hands around my waist.

  “Stop,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Do you have to always be clean and organized?”

  “It’s dirty food.”