Hating You, Loving You

by Crystal Kaswell

  In one swift motion, she climbs on top of me.

  Her knees plant outside my thighs.

  Her eyes fix on mine.

  "You look so good in this thing." Her fingertips skim my neck as she undoes the knot of my tie. "But I still need to destroy it."

  "Destroy it?"

  "Are you negotiating?"

  "Say I am?"

  "Take off your clothes if you don't want them destroyed."

  "Oh?"

  She nods as she undoes my top button. Her fingers linger on my neck. My chest. My collarbones. "I need you naked."

  "Why's that?"

  "Uh-huh. No sass. I'm too tired for that."

  "If you're tired, we can just cuddle."

  She's quick about unbuttoning my shirt. "No."

  "No?"

  She nods. "I'll get the combat boots if that's what it takes."

  I laugh. "You're dedicated."

  "Too much talking." She pushes my suit jacket off my shoulders. Then the shirt. "Not enough sex."

  My lips curl into a smile.

  Her cheeks flush. "What?"

  "Just thinking about how much I love you."

  "I love you too. And, really, I can't wait to discuss that subject more." She shifts her hips backward to give herself room to undo my belt. "After I fuck you senseless."

  Fuck, I love everything about her.

  My palm goes to her cheek.

  She leans into the touch with a soft sigh. It's equal parts I love you too and hurry up and fuck me.

  She does away with her strapless bra.

  I ditch my slacks.

  Then the boxers.

  She kisses me hard as she wraps her fingers around my cock.

  Fuck.

  Her lips part to make way for my tongue.

  She pumps me harder.

  Kisses deeper.

  I toy with her until she's groaning against my lips.

  Then I bring my hands to her ass, hold her body against mine as I scoot backward.

  She stares into my eyes as she pushes her thong off her ass.

  I help her slide it to her feet.

  Trace a line up the inside of her leg.

  Higher and higher and higher.

  There.

  My fingertips skim her clit.

  Her nails sink into the sheets.

  I love watching anticipation spill over Chloe's expression, but I don't have the patience for it today.

  I need her coming.

  My hands go to her hips. "Sit on my face."

  She crawls up the bed, turns, plants her knees outside my cheeks backward.

  Fuck.

  My girlfriend is brilliant.

  I dig my fingers into the flesh of her ass. Bring her cunt to my lips.

  Tease her with a soft flick of my tongue.

  Her nails scrape my chest. My stomach. My hips.

  She claws harder with every tease.

  Gets closer.

  Until—

  Fuck.

  Her thumb brushes my piercing.

  She wraps her hand around me. Pumps me hard as I lick her.

  Pleasure floods my senses.

  Then she lowers her body onto mine.

  Brings that gorgeous mouth to my cock.

  Toys with my piercing with her tongue.

  And my conscious thoughts flee at an alarming rate.

  She's too good at working that thing.

  I'm gonna come way too fast.

  She does it a little harder.

  Harder.

  My balls tighten.

  The fluorescent light and low hum of the air-conditioning fades into one blur of Chloe.

  She groans against my cock.

  Presses her thighs into my cheeks.

  Writhes against my lips.

  I hold her in place as I work her.

  With every breath, I lose track of another thought. But I don't need thoughts. My body knows what it's doing.

  It needs her pleasure.

  Period.

  I find that spot where she needs me and lick her harder.

  She takes me deeper.

  There's something fucking beautiful about this, the two of us pushing each other to the edge.

  But with the next flick of her tongue, I lose interest in poetry.

  I lose interest in everything but making her come.

  And coming inside her.

  I pull back enough to groan. "Get on your stomach."

  She pushes herself up, but I don't give her time to get into position. I wrap my arms around her waist. Pin her to the bed.

  Her breath catches in her throat. "Fuck." She looks back at me, daring me to split her in half.

  I hold her in place as I tease her.

  My cock strains against her.

  With one quick motion, I fill her.

  "Mmmm." Her legs spread wider. Her groan gets louder.

  I sink into our position, her back against my chest, her ass against my pelvis, her thighs against my hips.

  She arches her back to meet me.

  Fuck, that feels good.

  Like it's where I belong.

  But it's not enough.

  I need her coming too.

  My fingers dig into her hips. "Touch yourself. I want to feel you come."

  "Dean…" She shifts to her right to make room for her hand.

  I wrap my arm around her chest.

  Pull her closer.

  There's no space between us. All of her is against all of me.

  She's all mine.

  And I'm all hers.

  She turns back. Brings her lips to mine.

  I kiss her as I pump into her.

  She rocks her hips with mine.

  Strokes herself.

  Pushes herself right to the edge.

  She pulls back to groan. "Fuck. Dean." Her fingers curl into the white cotton sheets. "Dean."

  My name rolls off her lips again and again.

  Her cunt pulses around me as she comes.

  Fuck, that feels good.

  I lose track of everything but her flesh against mine.

  A few more thrusts and I'm there.

  I groan her name as I come inside her.

  Pleasure floods my pelvis. It spreads through my stomach and thighs. It turns my world to pure ecstasy.

  Once I've spilled every drop, I untangle our bodies and collapse next to her.

  She nestles into my chest.

  We lie like that until we catch our breath.

  And then for a little longer.

  She looks up at me with those almond eyes.

  I rest my palm on her cheek. Rub her temple with my thumb. "Shower with me."

  "Mmm. Yes." Her lips curl into a smile. "Get it warm for me."

  "You know I love when you're bossy."

  She pushes herself up. "You're ruining the moment."

  No. The moment is perfect like this.

  "Just shut up, okay?"

  "Yes ma'am."

  She laughs. "You're the worst."

  "Thanks." I slide off the bed.

  She shoots me that trademarked you're ridiculous and I love it look of hers.

  Fuck, I love the way she looks at me.

  I love those almond eyes. That wide smile. The shooting star across her hip.

  I love every fucking thing about her.

  I even love the four different kinds of black eyeliner on the sink.

  And the dozen shampoos in the shower.

  I turn the knob until the water is just right.

  Something catches my eye. A flash of movement in the bedroom.

  Both doors are open a crack. I can just barely make out the dresser.

  Chloe pulls open her drawer. Grabs the white tank top she sleeps in.

  Moves to the bottom drawer.

  My drawer.

  Shit.

  She paws through my drawer, moving past pair after pair of jean.

  She freezes.

  That must be it.

  Slowly, she pulls out the ring b
ox.

  Her eyes go wide as she flips it open.

  I couldn't ask for her mom's ring—Mark beat me to that—but the ring I got is perfect for her. A round stone on a platinum band.

  She slips the ring onto her left ring finger. Holds it up to catch every ounce of light.

  Squeals the way she does when she perfects a tattoo mock-up.

  Turns toward the hall.

  I push the door closed just in time.

  The water is hot as hell. Or maybe that's all the warmth flowing though my veins.

  Her footsteps pad the hallway.

  She slips into the bathroom with a goofy smile.

  Fuck, it hits me everywhere.

  I'm over the moon.

  It's nearly impossible to keep a poker face, but I manage. "What got into you?"

  "You did. Or did you forget?"

  My smile spreads over my cheeks. "Sunshine, that was terrible."

  "You do better."

  "I can't. You worked me too hard."

  "Mhmm." She wraps her arms around my waist. Traces circles on my skin with her ring finger. "Just thinking… I love you so much."

  "I love you too."

  "Now get in the shower."

  "Yes ma'am."

  "I don't mean it like that." She drops her voice to that I'm obviously talking about sex tone.

  "You sure?"

  She pulls back with a laugh. "Can you even… ahem… this soon?"

  "No. But I have hands."

  "Oh."

  I raise a brow.

  "Okay… maybe I'll get a little bossy."

  "Maybe?"

  "If you're into it."

  I step into the shower and offer her my hand. "Sunshine, you know the drill. Your wish is my command."

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  Brendon

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  Kaylee plants her palms on the table. Her cheeks spread to her ears. They're pink. Then red. She's laughing so hard her tits are shaking.

  Damn, that tight blue dress, the same blue as her glasses.

  She looks amazing, like the sweet, innocent angel she is and like the sex goddess I'm desperate to unleash.

  But I still hate that scrap of fabric with every fiber of my being.

  I hate every ounce of air between us.

  Every flint of wood in this table.

  Every guy here looking at her the way I am.

  Fuck, if I don't get ahold of myself, I'm going to break a few arms. And maybe my hand. And I can't exactly finish Alex's back piece at nine a.m. tomorrow with broken fingers.

  Em wraps her arms around Kaylee.

  Kaylee laughs, pushing her long blond hair behind her ears and gathering it at one shoulder.

  Her eyes flit around the room.

  They catch mine.

  They scream I'm about to wish for you to take me to your room.

  Or maybe that's in my head.

  Today is the day.

  She's no longer a temptation that can get me locked up. Just a temptation that can rip away everything that matters to me.

  Em leans in to whisper in her ear. I know my sister. I know exactly what she's saying. Wish for someone to fuck tonight.

  Not happening.

  Not as long as I'm here.

  I hate to be a cunt-blocker, really, I do, but there's no way Kaylee is taking home anyone on my watch.

  I have no idea how she's managed to stay single this long.

  She's beautiful. Smart. Funny. Kind. And innocent... fuck, the way her cheeks are blushing.

  The way she's leaning over the table, letting her eyelids fall together, parting her lips...

  I could teach her so many things.

  I could teach her everything.

  But I can't.

  She's my sister's best friend.

  And as much as Em is a brat, she's all the family I've got.

  These two are the most important people in my life.

  My cock is going to have to cool it.

  It's not getting anywhere near Kaylee.

  I plant on the Kelly green deck chair, the one under the old lamp with the too yellow bulb.

  Even though we're in one of the most crowded cities in Southern California, the beach is empty. Still. All the voices and laughter are coming from the house. The roar of the ocean isn't enough to muffle the party.

  I should head inside and kick out Emma's friends. Insist on driving Kaylee back to her place. Lecture both of them about drinking too much.

  But I'm not in the mood to play Dad today. I'm tired of playing Dad, period. Emma and I never got along, not exactly, but we used to have a rapport. We were a team. A you're annoying, but not quite as annoying as Mom or Dad team, but we were still a fucking team.

  Now, the majority of my relationship is lecturing her and yelling some equivalent of go to your room.

  And her yelling back you're not my dad.

  I force myself to look out at the ocean.

  It's beautiful. Dark water. Soft sand. Stars bright enough to shine against the black sky but dulled by light pollution all the same.

  None of it distracts me.

  None of the eight million things going on in my life distract me.

  I need a way to get Kaylee out of my head. I've tried everything—work, play, other women, fucking myself, not fucking myself.

  Nothing helps.

  I pull out my sketchbook and flick my pen a few times. A few more. My warm up sketch is a messy abstract shape. It means something, I'm sure, but I don't have a clue what that is.

  I turn the page. Outline the octopus going on Will's bicep tomorrow afternoon. Attempt to fill in the shading.

  The details don't come. The only image in my mind is Kaylee. The brightness in her green eyes, the smile spreading over her pink lips, that coy hip tilt. Like she knows how badly I want my hands on those hips.

  Like she's going to roll that dress up her thighs, plant her palms on the table, and shoot me a please, fuck me now look.

  I don't need a tattoo mockup.

  I need her naked in my bed.

  "Hey." The side door slides open and Kaylee steps outside. Her steps aren't soft the way they normally are.

  They're messy. Quick.

  Her eyes are brighter than normal.

  Bolder.

  She plants on the lounge chair, next to me. Her thigh presses against mine. Her fingers skim the edges of my sketchbook.

  She leans over my shoulder, pressing her chest against my arm, looking up at me with those doe eyes. "Can I see?"

  Not the sketchbook. The shit I have in here, of her, will terrify her. Kaylee is sweet. Innocent. I haven't asked, but I'd bet—I have bet Dean—she's a virgin.

  My cock rouses at the thought of being the first inside her. Fuck, my lips, my tongue, my fingers—every part of me wants to be her first.

  Not happening.

  "You looking for a nautical tattoo?" I shoot back.

  Her smile spreads over her cheeks. "Maybe. What do you suggest?"

  I drag my fingertips over her shoulder, drawing the shape that best suits her. It's a bad idea, touching her like this. It's doing shit to me.

  And from the way her eyelids are pressing together and her lips are parting with a sigh, I'm pretty sure it's doing shit to her.

  Fuck, I need a thousand cold showers.

  Even if Kaylee wasn't Em's best friend, she's a sweet girl. Someone who deserves a nice guy. A guy who can give her a normal life. Not an asshole who destroys everything he touches.

  Even so, I trace the outline of a would-be tattoo u
p to the tip of her shoulder. "A mermaid."

  "I like it."

  "I know. You've seen The Little Mermaid a thousand times."

  "At least two thousand." She looks up at me. "What do you say? Right now? I'm finally old enough to sign the form."

  "Okay." I take her hand and pull her to her feet. "Let's walk to the shop. One topless mermaid."

  Her eyes go wide. She stammers, presses her toes together. The plastic of her heels clicks. Her teeth sink into her lip. "I, uh..."

  "Hate having your bluff called?"

  "No, I just... I need to think about it a little more."

  "Bullshit." I can't help but smile. She's adorable flustered.

  "No, just regular... uh... that isn't why I came out here."

  I arch a brow.

  She scoots toward me. It's a tiny movement. Soft. More like the Kaylee I know. The sober one.

  "Well, it's my birthday." Her fingers curl around my wrist. "And I want a birthday kiss."

  How about a birthday fuck? How about a birthday coming on my face until my lips are numb?

  "I only give birthday spankings." My voice is steady even though my heart is pounding against my chest. Fuck, the thought of bending Kaylee over that table and—

  "Okay." She presses her lips together. "Let's go. Right here, right now."

  "You can handle eighteen?"

  She nods.

  She can't, but it's tempting anyway...

  "Let's go, Brendon." She takes my hand and places it on her hip. Her eyes meet mine. They bore into mine. They demand every thought in my head. Or at least all the ones about stripping her naked. "Or did I call your bluff?"

  "Bend over and plant your hands on the glass if you want to find out." She is calling my bluff. And now I'm calling hers.

  Only this is one time—

  My sister saves me from my filthy thoughts. She bounces out the door, throws her arms around Kaylee, and pulls her from her seat. "Stop hiding from all the guys at the party."

  "Your brother is a guy."

  Emma scoffs. Her nose scrunches. It lights up her dark eyes—the same deep brown as mine. She runs her fingers through her violet hair and just barely restrains herself from rolling her eyes.

  Kaylee's fingers brush the back of my hand as she turns toward Emma. "Sorry, Em, but it's undeniable. Just look at him."

  Emma sticks out her tongue and mouths gross. "Mr. Look What a Brooding Bad Boy I Am will be here tomorrow." She grabs Kaylee's hand and pulls her toward the door. "These other guys won't." Emma looks to me. "You don't have to stay and supervise."