Hate to Want You

by Alisha Rai

I think I’m doing a pretty good job.

  No lurker wears white. You wear black.

  You want to meld into the shadows.

  He ran his hand over his chest. Ugh, why did he have such a hot chest? The moon is full tonight. I wouldn’t be able to meld even if I wore black.

  Her fingers flew. Then you should leave lurking to the professionals. There’s no value in it for amateurs.

  I don’t know. It gets your attention.

  The phone rang, and she hesitated for a beat. He raised his device to his ear and mimed picking up.

  She pressed her lips tight, unable to resist him. “What?” she snapped. “I’m busy.”

  “You don’t look busy.” His voice was low, designed not to carry. His gaze dropped over her body. The flannel shirt covered her arms and up to the tops of her thighs. It wasn’t sexy.

  He looked at her like she was wearing the tiniest of negligees.

  “You look beautiful,” he finished.

  Call her vain, but she absorbed his compliment like a sponge soaking up tiny droplets of water. Livvy was suddenly glad she’d left the top button undone, the upper curves of her breasts visible. “Thanks.”

  “Unbutton that shirt a little more.”

  She regularly wore corsets and miniskirts, but she clutched the lapels of her shirt together like an outraged aunt and glared down at him. “I will not.”

  “Come on. If I’m such a creeper, give me something to creep on.”

  She was tempted to smile, but she controlled her face. “Creepers don’t get rewarded.”

  “Probably a good policy.” Nicholas moved closer, into a brighter patch of moonlight. His lips moved, his husky voice caressing her ear. “I’m sorry I called you dramatic. I want to see you again.”

  She swallowed, hating that leap of happiness. I can give you everything.

  He couldn’t. “You’re seeing me.”

  “I mean see you properly. Not because I’m escorting you to my grandfather or because you’re driving my sister home, but because we want to be in each other’s company.”

  She twisted the button on her shirt. “I don’t see the point in that.”

  “I thought I showed you the point of it in the woods.” He screwed up his face. “Ah, that was not supposed to be a euphemism.”

  Her lips trembled, but she controlled her smile at the unexpectedly silly joke. “Like you said, I’m not good for you.” She wouldn’t be able to forget his words anytime soon. I know you’re not good for me, but I can’t seem to stop wanting you.

  “I did think you were bad for me.”

  She managed to stop herself from showing pain. “Yeah, well, I’m trying to be healthy too, Nicholas.”

  He ran his hand over his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. “I said I did think you were bad for me. Now, though . . . Didn’t you feel better today? After we talked?”

  “Yes.” Until I felt myself latching on to the crumb of a possibility for a future for us. She couldn’t allow herself to do that.

  “I think I need that.”

  “You’ve never liked chatting before.”

  “When we were young, I did. Remember how we’d lay on the ground and talk for hours?”

  “I talked.”

  “You talked more than me. But I talked.”

  She conceded that with a reluctant nod. He’d always been reserved, from the time he was a young boy, but he’d shared a lot with her, even before they started dating.

  He pressed his fist over his heart. “We’ve tried staying away from each other. We tried just fucking each other. It hasn’t gotten me anywhere, and I don’t think it’s helped you either. Maybe we could . . . I don’t know. Try spending time with each other. Talking.”

  She could feel herself weakening, responding to the pleading in his voice. She should hang up, right now. She knew she was too weak where he was concerned.

  She worried that button. “We can’t talk without boning. I think that’s pretty apparent.”

  “So we’ll bone.” He put his hand up when she would have talked. “The sex isn’t the problem. Yeah, what we were doing, our arrangement all those years, that was bad for both of us. We could make things healthier between us. No binging. Guilt-free, rules-free, two consenting adults who respect each other.”

  She pressed her fingertips against the window, so tempted it hurt. Livvy could see the sense in what he was saying. That burden on her shoulders had eased a tiny bit every time they’d honestly engaged with each other.

  “No one will know. This won’t hurt anyone,” he said quietly. “But it might help us.”

  The second part of their long-standing agreement. One night. No one will know.

  You can’t ever think anything will come of this. No dreaming of weddings or walking hand-in-hand next to a duck pond. He didn’t know everything about her, all the dark and messy things. She’d kept those from him even when they were young. A not-so-tiny, insecure part of her had always feared he wouldn’t want her if he saw it all.

  Plus, if she took her heart out of the equation totally, she could say she didn’t want a relationship with him, not when it meant he’d have to fight his family. She also didn’t want to fight hers, not when she was here to rebuild those ties.

  She was so tired of fighting. “Okay,” she murmured, tracing a circle on the window.

  “Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  A smile split across his face, and her finger jerked. She’d forgotten how breathtakingly handsome Nicholas was when he smiled. “Now will you take off your shirt?”

  Her lips twitched, and she acknowledged the dare in his eyes. He thought she wouldn’t? She wasn’t sure what she’d ever done to give him the idea she was inhibited when it came to her body.

  She tucked the phone between her shoulder and her ear so she could flick open the buttons, appreciating both the flare of heat in his eyes and his increased breathing. When the shirt was open, she ran her hand down the center of her chest, over her belly, and cupped her naked pussy.

  “Come downstairs,” he murmured.

  “I shouldn’t.”

  “You should. What we did in the woods wasn’t enough for you. Come out here and let me take care of that wetness between your thighs.” He hung up before she could reply or agree.

  Because he knew she wouldn’t not come, the bastard. She tossed her phone on the bed and buttoned her shirt as she left the room, creeping through the dark house.

  She went out through the back door and padded barefoot over the grass, barely conscious of the chilly air or the goosebumps it left on her exposed skin. She didn’t see Nicholas at first, jumping when he spoke from the shadows closest to the house. “Come here.”

  She drifted closer to him, the sense of danger making her wetter. “I take it back. Not bad at skulking.”

  “I’ve graduated from lurking to skulking?”

  “It’s a definite upgrade.”

  He hooked his arm around her waist, and in two seconds had her pressed against the vinyl siding of the house. Nicholas’s booted feet came between her bare ones as he crowded her. “Are you cold?”

  “Yes.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Warm me up.”

  He hummed. “You smell so good.”

  “That’s the flowers.” A trellis was right next to her, a few blooms of a fragrant flower from the last remnant of summer still clinging stubbornly to the vine.

  He dipped his head and buried his face against her neck. “No, it’s you. Vanilla and sweetness.” His big fingers quickly manipulated the shirt, opening her to his touch. His hand went to her breasts, fondling the flesh, coaxing the nipples to tight, rigid points. When she reached for his belt buckle, he leaned back, grabbed her wrists, and brought both hands above her head. “Let me,” he whispered, and waited for her nod.

  He kept her wrists up and away, and stroked his fingers down over her stomach, smiling when her muscles tensed. That teasing touch slipped be
tween her legs. He hissed a curse when he found her slippery and wet.

  He pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes trained on her face as she shivered and shook under his leisurely caresses. When she strained closer, he gave her a kiss, but his kisses were as shallow and teasing as the play of his fingers on her clit.

  “Please,” she gasped into his mouth. She twisted her caught hands until they could grasp his, their fingers twining together.

  He drew away, enough so he could speak, his breath puffing against her lips. “Please what?”

  “Harder.”

  He circled her clit and released her hands. “Hold yourself open for me.”

  Trembling, she slid her hand down her body, until her fingers could slide over her pussy. She made a vee of her fingers and spread her lips.

  His hand left her for a second, and then three fingers landed on her clit in a gentle slap. She tilted her head back, crying out, but his big palm was there to capture the sound.

  Her breath came in shallow gasps, and she stared into his dark, merciless eyes. “Do you like this kind of spanking too?”

  She nodded.

  His lip curled up, and he delivered tap after tap, alternating with lazy fingering, speeding his motions up when she grew grasping and greedy.

  He captured her cries with his lips when she came, making sure no one could hear them. When she was finished, he drew away and carefully buttoned her shirt. Then he dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Come to my place tomorrow.”

  He’d just spanked and finger-fucked her, but that innocent, careless kiss was what made her blush.

  Intimate.

  No. Talking was fine. Putting their past to rest was fine. Dreaming of more was not. She shook her head. “Not your place. Someone might see.”

  His lips compressed, but he only said, “Right. I’ll text you a location then.”

  His thumb stroked over her cheek, the caress making her feel temporarily cared for and protected.

  She shivered. That was the key word. She couldn’t lose sight of that qualifier. Temporary.

  Chapter 16

  LIVVY BLEW on the surface of the hot coffee she held, the silence of the café calming her. She’d only stopped by Kane’s after hours to pick up some of the day’s excess sandwiches for dinner—she’d officially given up on navigating the kitchen at home—but she was glad she’d accepted Sadia’s offer of a cup while her sister-in-law got the food together.

  Livvy took a sip, a frightening level of contentment filling her. For most of her adult life, Livvy hadn’t been able to experience happiness without pain. Guilt and sadness and darkness were like a fine overlay on her entire life, a veil with the power to tarnish anything good that came her way.

  For the past week, though, every night she’d spent with Nicholas had been simply . . . happy.

  There had been a little twinge when she’d snuck out to see him. A prick when she had to creep back into her mother’s house or lie about having a shift at work. A wince when she drove up to another hotel room. A trickle when she grew relieved that her mother was rapidly improving in stability and mobility so she didn’t feel so bad about not being home when she wasn’t working.

  Other than that, though, she was wallowing in this extended-pleasure portion of her Nicholas Pleasure/Pain Cycle.

  They didn’t just fuck, though—Livvy shifted in her seat, wincing a bit—yes, there was definitely fucking happening. When they were finished, she snuggled into his arms, her head on his chest, and they would talk.

  They spent most of their time discussing the things they’d done separate from their shared history, tip-toeing around their families and the company. The places she’d been, the things she’d seen, how she’d grown her skills and business while moving constantly. He’d traveled internationally quite a bit, while she’d never gone farther than Canada. They’d had the money for it when she was a kid, but her mother had been terrified of long flights.

  She listened quietly as he told her about Paris, and then badgered him about his visit to the Louvre, forcing him to recount in excruciating detail every exhibit he could remember.

  She’d ached when he’d drowsily pressed a kiss to the top of her head and murmured, “You should go there sometime.”

  She’d go, maybe. But not with him, and she wanted his perspective on every painting and sculpture.

  The first night, she’d woken up after they’d fallen asleep, certain he’d left the hotel room. But, no, there he’d been next to her. She’d been so relieved she hadn’t even minded the way his big body had sprawled across the majority of the bed. She hadn’t minded, but she’d still nudged him until he rolled over with an annoyed mutter, giving her more space. It was the principle, after all.

  She’d contemplated leaving, but finally decided against it, marking another subtle shift in their relationship. They left together now, no one around in the predawn hour to catch them.

  Livvy was no dummy. She knew what was coming. There was pain on the horizon.

  She’d deal with it. It would be hard, and possibly bad, but this was worth it.

  Her best friend bustled out of the kitchen and dropped a tray in front of her. Livvy eyed the tower of sandwiches and baked goods covered by cling wrap. “You weren’t kidding. That’s a lot of leftovers.”

  “Business was slow today.” Sadia placed two plates in front of them and sank into the seat with a sigh. “Here, grab a bite before you leave.”

  Sadia looked as tidy and sensible as ever, in her jeans and T-shirt and sneakers, but there was an air of weariness about her. “You doing okay?” Livvy asked.

  “Oh yes. Of course.” Sadia nudged aside the plastic wrap, picked up a scone from the tray, and started to crumble it on her plate.

  After careful deliberation, Livvy went with a cookie. She bit into it, chewed, and swallowed. “Huh. Did Rick change the recipe?”

  “Why? Is something wrong?”

  Livvy raised an eyebrow at the sharpness in the question. “No. It tastes a little different, is all.”

  Sadia cleared her throat. “I made that batch, actually.”

  Weird. Sadia was no baker. “Is Rick out sick?”

  “No. He, um, retired.”

  “What?” That was huge news. Rick had been at the café for as long as she could remember. The menu he’d crafted was small but his emphasis on fresh ingredients had helped endear the place to locals.

  Sadia continued crumbling the scone. “He wanted to spend more time with his grandkids.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Right about the time you got back.”

  “And you’ve been doing all the cooking since?”

  Sadia shrugged.

  If Sadia was playing chef as well as manager, that meant she was probably waking up before the sun to get into the kitchen. How was she even functioning? “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “Mom and Aunt Maile know. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. You had so much on your plate.”

  “And you don’t?” Guilt crawled through Livvy. “I’m the worst friend.”

  Sadia cocked her head. “How’s that?”

  “I should have known something was up with you. I think I did know, but I wanted to give you space.”

  “You’re not psychic, and I do like space.” Sadia’s smile was faint. “Let’s save some time and energy and agree not to feel bad about silly things. I know you love me.”

  Livvy bumped her knee against her friend’s. “I do love you. I’d like to help.”

  “Have you been hiding your cooking skills all this time?” Sadia asked hopefully.

  “Unless you count omelettes, no.”

  “Yeah. Me neither.” Sadia looked down at her plate. Her best friend’s shoulders slumped infinitesimally.

  Which was basically a full-on wail of despair from anyone else. “Oh, Sadia.”

  She rubbed her forehead. “It’s fine. I’ll find someone soon. I can’t afford not to.”

  “That sounds dire,
” Livvy said cautiously.

  Sadia’s exhale was loud. “When Paul died, I discovered he’d taken out a couple of loans.”

  “Big loans?”

  “Big enough. Oh, we were fine while he was alive. I know it’s not what he’d planned on doing with his life, but Paul was good at running the café. He knew the business and he had that magnetic personality, you know?” Sadia blinked, hard. “People wanted to be around him.”

  Livvy placed her hand on her sister-in-law’s shoulder and handed her a napkin, her sinuses feeling a little tickle. Sadia was so stoic, it was easy to forget she’d lost her husband not too long ago. “He did. I’m sorry.”

  Sadia wiped her eyes. “I’m not Paul. I’m not a business genius or a magnetic person.”

  “I have savings—” Livyy began, but Sadia shook her head.

  “I can’t take money from you.”

  “I’m family, as you like to point out. And those are my brother’s debts.”

  “And now they’re mine,” Sadia said quietly. “Mine to deal with. Just because I didn’t know about them is no reason for you to have to hand over your life savings.”

  She thought about Nicholas’s offer. Livvy hated feeling so useless. “What if I could get you more than market value for the café?”

  For a second, Sadia looked tempted, but then she shook her head. “What would I do if I didn’t have this place? I have a high school degree and no real skills. I can’t move, and take Kareem away from your mom and my sisters and his cousins. My choices are limited.”

  “I want to help you.”

  “You are.” Sadia pressed her hand over Livvy’s and squeezed. “You’re here.”

  “I’m going to leave soon.” She said it more for herself than for Sadia.

  “I know.” Sadia lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t mean you’re here physically. Being able to see you like this, for a day or a week or a month, is great, but I meant you’re here.” She indicated her heart. “I’m always in your pocket and you’re always in mine, aren’t you?”

  Livvy swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Always.”

  “Plus, I’m going to assume I’ll see you more now, right?”

  “Yes.” She wouldn’t be able to stay away for another decade, no matter what happened with Nicholas. She needed these connections far too much.