Something Like Hate: An Enemies-to-Lovers Billionaire Romance

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Something Like Hate: An Enemies-to-Lovers Billionaire Romance Page 25

by Harloe Rae


  “Oh, since the last one panned out so well for me?”

  I make a show of studying her flashy condo. Seems the jaded siren has a taste for the finer things after all. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  Her scoff is indignant, clearly not appreciating my appraisal. “What’s the deal?”

  “A job offer.”

  “I’m not working for you.” The snark is instant and sharp.

  I lift a finger, tempted to trace the freckles across her twitching nose. “Not for me. I’d like to be partners.”

  “You want to invest in me?”

  “Very much so.” My stomach almost rumbles at the potential of having a slice of her.

  A slight breeze from the air conditioner flutters the auburn strands stuck to her face. “Is that all you want?”

  I don’t bother masking my frown. “Not in the slightest, but it’s all I deserve to request.”

  Vannah is quiet for a moment, the gleam in her eyes suggesting she’s dissecting every syllable I dare to pronounce. “I’m listening.”

  “You go freelance, and I’ll bring the business. No one can do the job better than you. Don’t get stuck under another undeserving thumb.”

  “You’re only suggesting that as a peace offering. I don’t want a handout from you.” Yet her tone has lost its frosty edge.

  “Trust me, sugar. You’ll be earning your keep.”

  “I’m not spreading my legs for you again.” She crosses them for emphasis.

  “You’ve said that before and we know how that turned out.” Is that smug satisfaction in my voice? Well, yes. It certainly is.

  She waves her hands in front of her. “I won’t repeat the same mistakes.”

  Conquering her resistance will be extremely rewarding. The tangy victory is almost teasing my tongue as we speak. “I’d prefer if you keep an open mind.”

  She leans against the plum couch behind her. The scale weighing her options practically pings in the silence. “You shouldn’t go into business with someone you’re interested in.”

  “Is that advice for me or you? Just wondering which one of us would actually allow such limitations to guide our decisions.”

  She huffs at my obvious manipulation tactic. Getting a rise from her is too tempting. “I’ll sleep on it and get back to you.”

  “I’d prefer you sleep on me.”

  Vannah shoves my arm, steering me toward the door. “Don’t test my generosity, Lannie.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, sugar.” I wink at her over my shoulder. “Same time tomorrow?”

  My Aston Martin hugs the curb like a long-lost lover. I returned the rental a few days ago and bought my own. It’s more rewarding to drive this way.

  After throwing the car in park, I slip on my aviators and stride to the sidewalk. The sun is shining on full blast, but there’s a slight bite in the air nipping at my ass. That breeze makes the summer heat docile and friendly, like getting an unsolicited blowjob in the back of a limousine.

  And now I’m thinking about Vannah’s tongue lapping at my dick lollipop-style. I wonder if she’s into giving road head. That gets added to the stack of questions to ask once she’s done hating me.

  Focusing on the temperature is less likely to cause blue balls. August in Minnesota is a frigid bitch compared to Illinois. I bet Chicago is still humping a hundred degrees with no plan of slowing down. At least I’m not drowning in sweat standing outside for longer than two minutes. This weather doesn’t make wearing a suit feel like a prison sentence. Even so, I’m tempted to forgo the layered attire. That’s a habit I’m not looking to break, though. Keeping up appearances to a certain extent is expected.

  I sidle up next to a meter machine and dig out my phone. I text Vannah, we banter for several minutes, I narrow in on her location, and pause for the inevitable clash. This routine is beginning to settle in as a pattern. She makes the task easy by being extremely predictable. The woman who’s still refusing my affections has a lady boner for this frou-frou coffee shop off Hennepin Avenue.

  Me: Good morning, sugar. What’s on your agenda for today?

  Savannah: Cold calling old clients. Same as usual.

  Me: I’m glad you took my freelance suggestion seriously.

  Savannah: I’ll admit you have decent ideas every now and then.

  Me: Such as partnering with me? You could accept my offer.

  Savannah: I’m not that desperate yet.

  Me: I’ll wear you down.

  Savannah: And I look forward to watching you try.

  It’s been a week since I dropped the bomb about opening a Minneapolis branch for Global Winters. Vannah has yet to swallow the juicy bait I’m dangling like a limp dick. That thought stops me short. Maybe I should improve my presentation.

  In the meantime, I’ve been chasing her sexy ass to no avail. The term stalking has such a negative connotation. I’m merely trying to drop myself in her path whenever possible. That makes it harder for her to pretend I don’t exist and escape my semi-sweet advances. Years of sitting on top of the food chain have inflated my confidence to the brim. Through my skewed sense of reality, it would appear impossible for her to forget about me. I know better, though. Vannah will continue to ignore me simply out of spite.

  I catch sight of her at the end of the block and jog to catch up. Her ass is held captive in a pencil skirt that’s tight enough to reveal zero panty lines. She sways her hips in a hypnotic strut that has my feet tripping over themselves. An overhead awning casts shadows across her red hair, setting the strands on fire. The sight has me completely enamored. As if I wasn’t far enough gone already. I have no doubt my tongue is dragging across the concrete as I eliminate the remaining distance between us.

  As if sensing my presence, she spins on her heel and pins me with a glare. “Why are you following me?”

  “That’s a silly question, Savannah. After I dumped my emotions all over you, it’s sufficient to assume you’re stuck with me.” Am I bordering on pathetic? Maybe. Do I care about softening the sharp edges on my image? Not for the woman currently frowning at me.

  “Don’t you have a company to run?”

  “Yes,” I supply with a casual grin. Those flippant expressions are another thing I’m finding easier to reveal where this woman is concerned. “The sooner you agree to help me, the faster I can get started on the expansion.”

  “Is this an elaborate scheme to get me in your clutches?” Vannah narrows her eyes.

  I whip off my sunglasses so she can see the honestly in mine. This isn’t the first time she’s doubt my intentions. I’m certain it won’t be the last. “I’ve determined that lying, cheating, and stealing aren’t going to do me any favors.”

  “Damn straight,” she agrees.

  A large group approaches from the crosswalk, shoving us closer together. I use the opportunity to take a liberty by ghosting a thumb along her jaw. “This is a convenient way to keep me local while we work out our differences.”

  “Which could take months.” She flutters her lashes when I grunt. “There are plenty of other steps you can accomplish before buying a building.”

  “I’m not interested in doing any of that.”

  “Must be nice having billionaire status to fall back on when you’re just schlepping the streets bothering an unsuspecting woman who’s trying to go about her schedule.” She’s the only person who can get away with railing on me. At every opportunity, she uses that leverage to her advantage. I allow it because she’s proven to be a special case.

  Another easy smile tugs at my mouth. “It certainly allows for flexibility when needed.”

  Vannah parks a fist on her cocked hip, probably frustrated that she hasn’t successfully ruffled my feathers. “What are you doing chasing me around town all hours of the day?”

  I tuck some hair behind her ear. “Priorities.”

  Her breath hitches, the sound more arousing than a fist pumping my cock. Then she takes it one step farther by leaning into my touch. The urge to steal
a kiss gnaws at me.

  Vannah shuffles her feet, our toes nudging. “Careful, Mr. Winters. I might mistake you for a closet romantic.”

  “Can I be a dirty one?” Her floral scent feeds my lungs as I draw in a long breath. I could get high off her if she’d allow it.

  “As if there’s another choice.”

  An invitation like that isn’t meant to be wasted. I’ve come to discover compliments go much farther than insults with her. Who would’ve thought, huh? That’s a lesson the old man forgot to teach me.

  I eliminate the narrow gap still separating us with a palm against her ass. The embrace is intimate, one for lovers. I no longer want to fight that implication. People should believe we’re a couple. I’m finding comfort in the visual we portray. I bend low enough to dust my mouth over the shell of her ear.

  “You’re exquisite, Savannah. The hold you have on me is boundless and permanent. I’m haunted by memories you refuse to repeat. When your skin flushes scarlet as I enter you. The call you give at the peak of pleasure. A mere gleam from your gaze tangling me in knots. Satin touches against my flesh. Our bodies recognizing what we weren’t ready to accept.” I curl my palm around her nape, squeezing gently. She purrs and tips her head skyward. Our lips are close enough to brush. “I’ll never tire of this chase.”

  As if suddenly realizing who I am and where we are, Vannah pulls away. The loss is like an ice bath. She jabs a finger into my chest, widening her eyes when I flex and effectively deflect the attack. “A tiger doesn’t suddenly start wearing spots. You can’t just wake up one morning and decide to be a different person.”

  I grab her wrist, twinging our hands together. “I certainly can if it’s been a long time coming. You’ll never believe me unless you grant yourself permission.”

  Green eyes skewer into mine, searching for several moments. There’s no deceit to be found. Nothing dishonorable or treacherous. It might come as a shock after months of viewing only hateful objectives. I only want to reflect my genuine devotion.

  “Fine,” she relents on a sigh. “I’ll go on a date with you. It doesn’t mean anything, though. Mostly I just want you off my back.”

  “And on your front instead?”

  Vannah’s harsh mask cracks, allowing a grin to peek through. “You can be quite funny.”

  With a bent knuckle, I trace the blush on her cheek. “With a captivated audience, I’m inspired to be much more than that.”

  “I’m only agreeing to an innocent outing. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

  The victory is still mine to gain. I almost shout for all to hear—stupid as that might be. This girl turns me into a fool. I don’t mind a single iota. “Does this mean I’m still a member of The Haters Club?”

  She bites her bottom lip. “We might not be enemies forever.”

  “That’s the fantasy keeping me up at night.” I wink at her, and she groans. Might as well push my luck. “Can I join you for coffee?”

  The odds that she’ll agree are about fifty-fifty. She squints at me, weighing the bets rolling in. “Will that count as our date?”

  I snort. “Not a chance.”

  A slim brow quirks at me. “Then what are you suggesting?”

  “Baseball,” I blurt.

  “Do you already have the tickets?” Her features crease further. “You assumed I’d be convinced.”

  I shrug while studying the traffic bottlenecked at the intersection. “We’ll get them at the stadium.”

  “Those leftover seats are most often nosebleeds.”

  “I’m not interested in the game, Savannah. Only the company I have every intention to keep matters.”

  Vannah is quiet for a moment, her lips twisting to one side. Then a wide smile replaces the pucker. “I have a better idea.”

  Landon crosses his arms while stabbing me with a glare. Well, I assume he’s glaring. It’s impossible to tell behind those mirrored shades. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  I lift my foot onto the small tire. Stilettos will make this a real adventure. “Afraid not, Lannie. These bad boys belong to us for the next two hours.”

  The early afternoon crowd at Lake Calhoun is thriving with energy. That thrum soaks into my bare arms and I let out a long sigh. Between the sun glittering on the water’s surface to the cheerful chatter from everyone walking by, my mood is getting a bright boost. The grump hovering in my periphery only increases that bump.

  “I’m not getting on that.” His upper lip curls at the Segway parked next to mine.

  “Throwing in the towel so soon? Had I known all it would take is a ridiculous mode of transportation, this little charade could’ve ended days ago.”

  “You’re only doing this to make me look stupid.” He can’t prove that, but it’s one hundred percent true.

  That’s right—Landon Winters is being reduced to common folk status. Oh, how the mighty fall indeed. He should be blaming himself for giving me free rein.

  A giggle tickles my throat. “I don’t see the issue.”

  He frowns. “There has to be a more dignified path back into your good graces.”

  “Afraid not.” I have the courtesy to wince.

  “Savannah.” His tone borders on pleading. For him, anyway.

  “Lannie,” I retort.

  “Let’s go to Hawaii instead.”

  I pause at that extremely lofty—and ostentatious—counteroffer. The ocean mist spritzing my face would be quite refreshing. Damn, that’s tempting. Then the bubble bursts when I refocus on our current surroundings. He’s not sweeping me off my heels that easily.

  “That’s very generous, but I want to show you my city.” I stick my bottom lip out, letting a slight wobble take effect. My pout is capable of making grown men crumble. I’ve witnessed it on several occasions.

  Landon’s thumb rubs at my protruding plea. “It’s cute when you steal my lines.”

  “I’ve learned from the best.”

  He drags his aviators down the bridge of his nose. The sole purpose is so that I can watch him ogle me. “Your attire can hardly be considered appropriate for traipsing around on a motorized stick horse.”

  I glance down at my designer skirt and towering pumps. “Do you have a problem with my outfit?”

  His mouth crooks into a devilish smirk. “Not at all. In fact, I’m interested in seeing how it looks scattered on the floor.”

  With a tsk, I boop him on the nose. “You’re not getting out of this.”

  He nips at my finger. “I prefer to explore all avenues before conceding.”

  “Our rental window is ticking. Stop stalling and put on your helmet.” I pass him a shiny dome for his melon.

  Landon makes no move to put it on, scowling as if the sight alone offends him. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  “Me either, to be honest. I was mostly kidding, but we’re invested now.”

  “This wouldn’t be happening if I didn’t love you.”

  I freeze as that word rolls from his tongue like the most tender caress. “What’s that now?”

  His snort pings off my shock. “Oh, please, Savannah. As if you weren’t aware by now.”

  “You love me.” I state that as an indisputable fact. It sounds better than peanut butter mixed with chocolate.

  “Shut up and kiss me.” He grips my chin and tugs until our lips connect.

  But that isn’t nearly enough.

  Landon hauls me against his chest with an arm banded around my waist. I fall into him, tangling my legs with his. My palms land on his shoulders, digging in as he exhales a growl. He grips a palmful of my ass, clutching tight in possession. I moan into his mouth while clawing at him. It’s been too long since I’ve tasted his special blend, all minty fresh and mine.

  His tongue goads mine into a knotty battle as we drift deeper into this lustful haze. I want to really feel him without all these pesky clothes in the way. As if reading my mind, he bunches more fabric in his hand. The heated air whispering across my upper thigh snaps me from the f
og.

  I detach from him with a gasp. “You’re too sexy with all those smooth moves.”

  “That was nothing, sugar. I’m just getting warmed up.” He leans in for another kiss.

  I dodge his lips. “Quit distracting me.”

  “But I’ve missed you.” The twinkle in his gaze is almost my undoing.

  There are enough wits remaining in my erratic mind to consider ditching this half-baked idea and find somewhere suitable to get naked. But we’re committed, dammit. If we happen to pause for a pitstop after five minutes, that’s totally acceptable.

  The sun chooses that moment to send a streak directly into my eyes. I lift a palm to shield my gaze while continuing to gawk at him. “You really love me?”

  “Yes.” Landon murmurs the confirmation against my mouth. “I would’ve told you last week had I known confessing my love would get this reaction.”

  “Maybe you should’ve.” I wiggle impossibly closer, crushing his evident arousal between us.

  He thrusts forward. “Does this mean I’m off the Segway hook?”

  “Nope.” I pop my lips around the word.

  His forehead rests against mine. “Damn, I was confident you’d be ready to consummate our relationship at the earliest convenience.”

  “We’ll get to that point very soon. Also,” I peek up at him from under my lashes, “I might love you too.”

  I’ve been denying the inevitable long enough. It’s best to put us both out of our misery and admit the truth. Landon Winters—by some strange miracle I haven’t grasped yet—has captured my heart. I didn’t see this coming.

  He was right about the line between loathing and lust being super thin. Then I went and fell in love.

  With a long exhale, he brushes our noses together. “You don’t sound convincing.”

  “Don’t ruin the moment.” I bounce on my toes to kiss him again. “I love you, Lannie. Not sure exactly when it happened, or how. You snuck up on me when I least expected to fall. I’m not used to being blinded with a positive twist. You’re proving to be a game-changer.”

  His restless pursuit is endearing, albeit a tad stalkerish. I’m choosing to view it as determination and proof that he’s committed.

 

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