Hate F*@k: The Complete Story

by Ainsley Booth

  “Get out.” I want him here, like crazy, but all of a sudden, the emotions of the last few weeks crash inside me and I’m angry at him. Pissed that it took him so long to come. That it’s in the middle of the night and I know he’ll be gone again before dawn.

  Livid that we both need this to keep going.

  He pauses in the doorway for a second before prowling closer. “I’m not here.”

  “And yet obviously…” I sigh as he steps into the moonlight streaming through my window. God, he looks good. Rumpled. Tired. But hard as fuck and sizzling with energy. I want to touch him all over, absorb that intensity and sooth the raging beast inside him. My reaction isn’t selfless, though—not at all.

  While we were apart, I could pretend I was getting over him. Now he’s here, and my chest hurts at how much I need him. Emotionally and physically. I press my thighs together, a futile effort against the instant ache he creates inside me.

  “In the morning you can pretend this was just a dream. Or a nightmare.”

  I shake my head. “Never that. But will this just torture us more? Because tomorrow you’ll be gone again, and we’ll start this cycle all over.”

  His eyes glitter in the dark, his teeth flashing white as he grimaces. “Wilson told me about the interview. Is your sister okay? Are you okay?”

  “Seriously? You break into my apartment to ask me if I’m fine?” I’m shaking with relief that he’s finally come to me, and angry that it took so long. And I’m still pushing him away. “I don’t know what kind of monster my father really is—I won’t be surprised if it turns out he’s the worst kind—but he never hurt us like that. Thank God.”

  “I’m sorry anyway.”

  “Why? It has nothing to do with me.” I prickle at the conversation. I don’t want to talk. I want to touch and hold and bite and cry from pleasure, but I don’t want to talk anymore.

  “You found out some shitty fucking news today. That kind of thing can mess with your head.”

  He would know, I’m sure. The last shitty news he got nearly landed him in jail. Which reminds me… “I’m not your problem anymore, Cole. Remember? I never was, not really.”

  “You don’t think you’re my problem?” He slides out of his jacket and unbuttons his shirt. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You can push me away and tell yourself that I’m not your problem. That’s fine.” He strides toward me, and I’m so glad my drapes are open and we have a full moon tonight. Cole stripped down to just dress pants, his thick, muscled torso twisting in the moonlight is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. He climbs on top of me and shoves the blankets out of the way. “But you are mine. My problem, my concern, my fucking constant worry because I’m not good enough to be in your bed and at your side, keeping you safe.”

  His words are heavy and sharp, and they land on me like that, but they don’t hurt. I can feel them, though, pointy and meaningful, and if I fight against them…that hurts. A part of me wants to relax, and let him slide closer. Slide inside me the way he’s said I’m deep in him already.

  He’s already there. And it’s too much, so I’m in denial.

  “This is crazy.” When he’s this close, I can’t remember all the reasons we shouldn’t be together. All I can feel is how right it is when he’s touching me. How perfect it will be when he thrusts himself inside me and claims me the only way I’ll let him. I’m wet. Ready. Swollen and aching and hot for him. Only him, spoiled for all others.

  “No shit.” He rolls his face against mine, forehead to forehead, nose to nose…lips to lips. I whimper as he kisses me. I’ve missed him so much. Needed this so much. “Good crazy or bad crazy?”

  “Don’t stop crazy,” I whisper, arching into his hands as they move over my body. He strips me out of the tiny sleep shorts and tank top I’m wearing. Was wearing, because now they’re on the floor, along with the rest of his clothes.

  “I’m sorry,” he mutters after grazing his teeth over my bottom lip. “I should have called you. Tonight. Before. You deserve more than this.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I’m not the princess you think I am. I won’t pretend I’m happy about all the rest, but this is…fine. I’d rather have you in the middle of the night than not at all. Even when I’m upset with you…I want you.”

  “God, I’ve missed you, Hailey.” He kisses me so hard it hurts. I wrap my arms around his neck. I want more.

  “Shut up and fuck me, okay?” It’s the wrong thing to say. It’s flippant and dirty, and he deserves to know I feel the same way. I missed you, too, I say in my head. But when I open my mouth, no words come out. So I kiss him back, then bite his chin on my way to his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs under my tongue as I lick him there, savoring the taste of his skin. “I’m still on the pill. I’m such a good girl, I take it every day.”

  “Jesus, I’m sorry about that.” But his cock flexes against my inner thigh. Gotcha.

  “Really? You didn’t like being the only man who’s ever been bare inside me?” He tightens all around me, and I throb for him everywhere—heavy, sensitive breasts. Wet between the legs. Hungry mouth. But this isn’t quite right. “You don’t need to be sorry.” I drop my voice, dropping the act. Dropping everything, including the mask. “I missed you, too. So much.”

  Another growl, and he surges over me. For a second I think he’s just going to drive his cock into me, and God knows I’m wet enough, but he just rocks above me on all fours, stretching out this moment like it’s made of bubble gum or something similarly nice and sweet and not at all the brittle, desperate desire threatening to crack inside me.

  “You are not a good girl. You’re a goddamn vixen.” He rakes his gaze down my body, writhing beneath him, and exhales slowly. With intent. Like that little bit of honesty was enough, and now we can play again.

  I shiver again, impatient for more. “Misrepresenting myself…that sounds punishment-worthy.”

  He laughs and crawls back a few inches, dropping his face to my neck. His breath brushes against my skin. “Is that what you think I should do? I come to you because I need you, and I think you need me, and you want me to spank you again?”

  “You didn’t really spank me the first time,” I say, panting, because yes, I want his hand print on my ass. I want that sting, that sharp bite that fades into the most delicious warmth. I only got a taste of it, and I want more. “Did you come here for something else?”

  He skims his cheek over my collarbone and down my chest, inhaling deeply as he buries his face between my breasts. The scruff on his jaw tells me he hasn’t shaved in a few days, and I never want him to shave. I want everything about Cole to have this edge—sex with spanking, kisses with beard burn, and our words to never, ever have whatever softness is about to come out of his mouth.

  Not just because I can’t handle it—although the last time we were together kind of proves I can’t. I’d fall for this man in a heartbeat. You’ve already fallen for him. Right. I’ve fallen for a man I can’t have except between the hours of one and four in the morning every few weeks. And I can barely hang on to being cool with that, but I need to. So he can’t be lovely. He just can’t. It’s not allowed.

  Plus I like the bad boy thing. I didn’t know I wanted it until I wanted him, and maybe I only want it because it’s him.

  But I don’t want him ever thinking that I want him to dial back the dirty.

  “Cole?”

  He looks up at me, his mouth wet and his eyes glazed, and my stomach drops. He doesn’t need to say anything, after all. A single look does it.

  I shake my head. Please don’t make this heavy. I can’t say it out loud, because if he needs that, I’ll give it to him.

  I’ll give him my heart even if it means tearing it out of my chest while it’s still beating.

  He licks his lips and blinks, and the look is gone. “I had something else in mind for tonight,” he says, his voice all husky and sexy and not at all needy. Like he knows. “Something I’ve been thinking about since you leaned a
gainst my door and wiggled that gorgeous ass of yours at me.”

  I don’t remember wiggling anything, and I tell him as much.

  “Hmm.” He sucks one of my nipples into his mouth as he thinks about this, and it’s like an electric current straight to my clit. Oh God. He releases it with a wet pop. “It was something incredibly tempting, anyway.” He curves one hand under my body as he’s talking, cupping his hand over my ass, his fingertips teasing at the sensitive tissue in the middle. “Have you ever had anyone here, Hailey?”

  I shake my head, my heart pounding a mile a minute.

  “Too much?”

  Is it obvious on my face? “No,” I squeak, because while it’s much more intense, more intimate, than anything I’ve experienced before, I don’t want him to stop.

  I never want him to stop.

  He hums against my sternum as he moves slowly down my body. “Is it okay if I touch you like this?”

  “Yes.” Definitely yes. I squirm inside the warm, safe circle of his arms, but yeah, it felt good. Surprisingly good. Like I might kick him if he stopped.

  “Don’t think about it. Just feel.”

  Oh, I’m feeling. And reacting. My pussy clenches, demanding to be filled, or licked, or both. Yes, definitely both.

  “This was worth me playing burglar, yes?”

  That reminds me. “You’re lucky, you know. Another day or two and you’d have been out of luck.”

  “Why?” He licks a lazy circle around my belly button, and my eyes roll back in my head.

  This has to be why I share what I say next, because I’m not thinking clearly. He’s worked his way behind all my filters and censors and good girl nonsense, and now I’m going deep in the TMI zone. His finger is circling the inside of my ass cheeks, it’s his own damn fault. “My period’s due later this week. You really should schedule your break-ins in advance.” He bites my belly and I squeal. “You know,” I continue, more breathlessly this time. “To avoid inconveniences.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m not so much of a jerk that I’d call that an inconvenience.” He clearly thinks the label applies in other ways. Maybe it does.

  The sum total of what I know about Cole—really know, truly in my heart—is how right it feels when he’s between my legs. His hands, his head, his cock.

  Right now, it’s his head, and I’m in heaven.

  In the morning? Maybe hell. But it’ll be worth it.

  With his free hand, he squeezes my inside thigh as he presses it up the bed, holding me wide open for his questing tongue. And fingers.

  I whimper as his thumbs stokes over my perineum, sliding into the slippery wetness that proves I like exactly what he’s doing. And then he pulls that moisture back and—

  “Oh!” This time it’s more of a gasp than a whimper as he uses my own arousal to ease his fingertip into my tight rear hole. Just the tip. Just enough to make it burn. The muscles there clench and relax on their own, blooming in arousal, and I wiggle—okay, now I’m wiggling, damn him.

  “Yes,” he mutters, his gaze hooded and heavy, fixed on the spot where he’s just barely penetrating me. “That’s so fucking hot. You are unbelievable, Hailey. You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you?”

  I nod and push against his finger, not even realizing I’m doing it, but as I press, I open for him, and his finger slides slowly into my body. Where nobody has ever been before. I’m going to die, and it’s not from embarrassment, because it feels too good. Intense. Almost painful. Burning, yes. But so damn good, I never want him to stop touching me there. I gasp again, that’s all I’m reduced to now, noises and mewling, as my hands grab at the bed beneath me.

  He dips his head, dark spiky hair covering my view of his mouth as he begins going down on me, but I can feel it. All of it. The licks. The sucks. The swirls that make my legs tremble. He kisses every bit of my pussy, and with each sizzling contact, my world narrows to the push and pull of impending climax. I rock my hips under his face, and at first I try to hold on to the bed, to contain myself, but then I’m sliding my hands into his hair and it’s so much better.

  Restraint is totally the wrong way to go when the man of your dreams is licking your pussy like it’s made of spun sugar.

  And finger-fucking my ass. I can’t forget that. He won’t let me, because as he slowly twists me towards what feels like it’s going to be a heavy, layered orgasm, he’s still talking. Individual words like “tight” and “wet”, “sweet” and “hungry.”

  Then his thumb takes over, sliding deep into my pussy before lazily rolling up and around my clit, a slow slide of thick flesh on lubricated skin. And that frees up his mouth for full-on sentences again, and I die and go to heaven, coming all over his hand as he presses his rough cheek against my thigh and tells me I’m beautiful. “You come so sweet, Hailey. Jesus, I need you.”

  “Take me,” I pant, flopping my hands wide on the bed. I’m boneless, my brain cells scrambled but good, and he could fuck me like a speed demon right now and I wouldn’t care.

  That’s not Cole’s style, though. He grins at me, all feral animal, and ever so slowly slides his hands under my hips and flips me over.

  Like I’m a fucking pancake. Except…yup. I pretty much am.

  This works too. Not sure it’s my best angle, but he likes my butt.

  “I told you,” he whispers in my ear as he looms beside me, his erection pulsing heavy against my hip. “I need you, and not for a quick fuck. I don’t want to just take you. I need you writhing beneath me. I need you digging your heels in my ass, fucking back at me as I sink balls deep into your hot, wet, delicious pussy.”

  “Okay,” I breathe, not entirely sure how that’s going to happen because boneless.

  “We’ve got all night,” he says, laughing under his breath at me.

  I smile despite myself. “You don’t need to sleep?”

  “An hour or two, maybe. If I get my fill of you.” He kisses my shoulder, then sinks his teeth gently into the fleshy part of my back as he trails his hand down my spine, his fingertips the only point of barely-touching contact on my skin. Smoothing his palm over my ass, he lifts his torso up as if by magic—or impressive abs, because he has those in an eight-pack—and keeps stroking down my legs, raising a trail of goosebumps in his wake. My pussy clenches at the promise of more. “I love how soft you are here,” he says, curving his fingers to the extra-fleshy part at the top of my generally heavy thighs. “Spread.”

  One word, and I instantly comply. But instead of thrusting his fingers inside me, or teasing my sensitive, still nerve-twitchy flesh, he just cups my pussy in his big hand and lifts my pelvis into the air. I scramble onto my knees, keeping my cheek pressed against the bed.

  He settles behind me, those hands spread across my butt. I wish I had some lube. I wish I was the type of girl to look over my shoulder and say, “Hey, I’ve got lube in the top drawer of my dresser. Feel free to fuck me in the ass.”

  But I’m not that girl. I’m not a prude, not anymore, but I don’t have lube on demand and my sex talk is going to need a few practice rounds before I’m tossing out the backdoor invite with ease. So instead, I wiggle my butt.

  And Cole laughs.

  This I can do.

  “That was fun,” I whisper, loud enough that he can hear me, but quiet enough that my voice doesn’t waver and crack.

  He sucks in a breath. “You have no idea how much I want to do more to you, Hailey.”

  “Tell me.” I close my eyes and arch my bottom into his touch.

  Instead of detailing all the depraved acts on his mind, he drags the head of his erection through my wetness, my swollen labia parting for him as he presses into me, just an inch. Just enough to stretch me around his girth and make me want more. “This, for one thing.” He strokes in and out, shallow thrusts that have me arching for more. “And this.” Deeper now. Harder. “I want to tie you up. Cuff your hands behind your back so I can hold on to them as I fuck you like this.”

  “What else?” I pant
the question, eager for more.

  “Everything. I want you to ride my lap as I pull your hair and suck on those pretty pink nipples.”

  I groan at that image, and Cole pulls me up onto my hands, then higher, so I’m unsteadily on my knees, but he’s got me, one of his forearms banded around my torso beneath my aching breasts. He drives his cock up and into me, this angle sharper and more intense than before. And his other hand is twisting in my hair.

  Pulling.

  I whimper, and he nips at my earlobe. “Sweet Hailey likes to be fucked hard, doesn’t she?”

  I nod. I do. “By you. Only you.”

  “Because you’re mine.”

  My breath hitches in my throat. “Yes.”

  “I like to play games with you. It’s unbelievably sexy because you are sexy. But don’t use games to put distance between us, beautiful.”

  “No….” He’s literally inside me. The distancing will come later. By him. Not me. I’m just trying to hang on to my hat.

  He grunts in my ear. “Too late. Time for the good girl to get her punishment.”

  Oh. I try—fail—to suppress a grin, because that sounds awesome.

  “It’s hardly punishment if you enjoy it,” he growls, pinching my nipple at the same time.

  I lean into his hand, making him cup my entire breast, as much as he can hold. Inside me, he’s still moving, slow drags in and out of my slick pussy that make it hard to think. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do that I wouldn’t like,” I sigh, rolling my head back against his shoulder. His grip tightens on me and he flexes his cock deep inside me, reminding me just how full he makes me.

  How empty I am when we’re not doing this. So there is a way he can hurt me.

  “Don’t leave me again for weeks,” I whisper, and I try to turn my face to look at him, but he jerks me forward, tumbling us both onto the bed. He slips out of me as we fall, his cock slapping the inside of my thigh with a wet, taunting whack. I growl at him, and he wraps his hand around my jaw, his thumb playing at my bottom lip.