Hate F*@k: The Complete Story

by Ainsley Booth

  And her smile gets a little bit bigger. More teasing.

  I spin her around, touching more of her now. She glances back at me over her shoulder, her hair swinging away. I can’t resist the bare neck, and I press my face into her slightly damp skin, tasting her briefly before pulling back. “Another drink?”

  She nods, and I will my dick to hang on, but then she breathes four little words that make my night. “Back at my place?”

  I have her out the door and in my waiting hired car before she can change her mind. I’ve never been more grateful for a privacy screen in my entire life. I tersely give the driver Hailey’s address before slamming the little sliding door shut and hauling her into my lap.

  “Uhhhn,” she mumbles as I jerk her tank top up and her bra down, baring one breast. I kiss her hard on the mouth again before whispering that she needs to be quiet, then I dip my head and suck her nipple into my mouth in a harsh, hungry pull.

  She pants my name, barely more than a breath, and it bounces around us in the quiet of the moving car. Up front, the driver is listening to something. Talk radio, maybe, or an ad. Outside, there’s end of the evening traffic noise.

  But right here, it’s just Hailey and me, my name on her lips and my mouth on her body.

  The nervous tension I’d been feeling is gone now, replaced by something more familiar—the need to possess her, to mark her soul as she’s marked mine.

  “You were beautiful tonight, dancing for me.” I free her other breast and roll the second taut peak over my tongue, savoring the unique taste of her skin and the still fresh scent of her vanilla perfume. “You’re always fucking beautiful.”

  “But you liked the dancing?” she whispers, sliding her hands over my shoulders, her words slurring slightly. “Maybe I’ll be your private dancer when we get up to my place.”

  I chuckle and kiss the inside of her bare arm, pebbled with goosebumps. “Almost there. You want your jacket back on, drunk girl?”

  “Nuh-uh.” She shakes her head vigorously as she fixes her bra and top. “I’m going to take them all off…soon enough anyways.”

  She tips her head to the side, like she’s thinking about the words she just said and wondering if they made sense, and I kiss her cheek, then her mouth, because it’s right there.

  The intoxicated cuteness continues on the slow, hip wiggling climb to her apartment, but as soon as the door closes behind her, she zips into efficiency-mode, going to the stereo on a bookshelf in her living room.

  There she starts rifling through her CDs. She waves her hand over her shoulder. “You should take your clothes off, I might want to violate you after I find this album…”

  I slowly strip off my dress shirt, but I leave my jeans on, and settle on the couch. I like this bossy, drunk Hailey. I’m not going to leave her in charge for long, but as long as she’s got a plan, I’m game to see where it goes.

  She puts on some sultry R&B from the seventies and turns around, right hip cocked and her boobs deliberately on display.

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Seriously? I want to watch you strip for me.”

  “Serious as a heart attack.” She smiles as she slowly unzips her jeans, then stops before I get to see the good stuff. “And I’m not going to strip for you, but if you’re a good boy, and close your peepers, I will dance for you.”

  Her warm, husky laughter surrounds me as I drop my eyelids and tip my head back against the couch. I’ve wanted to see her use the pole for weeks. I’ll take it however she wants to dish it out. The music is a promise of something seriously good—better than good, because Hailey just hopping out of her jeans on a regular night is enough to get me hard.

  She moves closer, warm air swirling around me, but then she’s gone again on another laugh, leaving me a frozen statue of barely contained sexual frustration. She could torture me for hours, but she doesn’t. Fabric rustles, then I hear a soft sound that I assume is her jeans hitting the floor a split second before she breathes the word I’ve been waiting for. “Open.”

  I blink twice, taking her in. She’s wearing my shirt, barely buttoned, and her curvy legs are bare and she’s posed against the pole like a pin-up model.

  Jesus. Blood rushes through my head on its way south to my cock. “Wow.”

  She plumps her lips in a naughty-as-fuck pout as the music changes to something slightly more upbeat—and decidedly dirtier. As the singer sighs and moans her way through a chorus about motions and notions, Hailey steps around the pole, one hand holding on above her head, her body angled out and away. Her hair swings wide as she launches herself into the air, twisting one leg around the pole as she slides down, twirling effortlessly.

  I can’t breathe.

  My shirt. Flashes of white lace underneath. The music. Her damn smile.

  “I’ve been thinking, Cole…” She drops, inch by inch, into the naughtiest squat I’ve ever seen and presses slowly onto her tiptoes before rising and circling the pole again.

  Flying.

  “This thing between us. Maybe I didn’t just want you to be my bad boy fling…” She bites her lip, and I just about lose my mind. Keeping my gaze glued on her painfully slow twirl around the pole, my shirt riding up on her hips, I ease my fly down and wrap my fist around my aching cock. She flips her hair over her shoulder as she glides her left foot up her right leg, stretching her thigh wide open and flashing those impossibly innocent panties at me. “Maybe I like being a little bad, too.”

  Jesus. She’s going to kill me. “Take your panties off.”

  She winks at me. “I will. When I’m ready.”

  “I want to see your pussy.”

  Another slow twirl, and this time when she comes around to face me, her free hand is working on the buttons of my shirt. “Why?”

  “Because it’s beautiful.”

  “Mmm. Try again.”

  “It is,” I growl.

  “What else?”

  “Because it’s mine.” Her lips part and her eyes sparkle. Good. I stand and pace around the coffee table, stopping just short of her. “You’re mine. And if I tell you to show me how much you want me, you’ll do it.”

  She slides her back against the pole, my shirt now fully open. Her breasts and belly jiggle as she works herself up and down, her mouth shiny and wet from her licking her lips. “And if I don’t obey you?”

  I step closer. “You like being punished far too much.”

  “I know,” she breathes as she drops again, one arm stretched above her head, her circled fingers controlling her descent on the pole. She stops with her mouth just inches from my throbbing dick. “It’s so naughty.”

  Fuck. Me.

  “You want this?” I jerk myself in front of her face and she nods, sticking out her tongue to catch a drop of pre-come.

  “Yummy.”

  I curse as I grab the pole above her and drive my cock into her eager mouth. She swallows me straight into her throat, her lips sealing around me as she sucks. Hard.

  It’s too much and not enough at the same time. The perfect wet heat, the soft pulling of her mouth, begging for me to spill myself down her throat.

  “You’re so naughty,” I groan, smoothing my free hand over her hair and then her cheek, ending up with my fingers stroking the soft skin of her throat. “Such a good cocksucker, Hailey. Just for me, on your knees. So hungry for me, aren’t you?”

  She nods as I thrust in and out of her mouth.

  “Take me deep again. I want your nose against my belly, beautiful. God, yes. Like that. Fuck, you’re so perfect, Hailey. Fuuuck-ck.” I hold myself against her face as I come on her tongue in heavy blasts—and she swallows every last drop.

  She holds me in her mouth until my cock stops pulsing, then waits at my feet, eyes glazed as I do up my jeans again.

  “Up, beautiful.” She glides onto her toes, stretching as tall as she can go, and I curl my hand around the back of her neck. “Thank you.”

  Other words pound in my chest, words I can’t bring mysel
f to say just yet. But I feel them. I lick my way into her mouth, kissing her and tasting the faint remainder of myself on her tongue.

  Peeling her panties low on her hip, I stroke my fingertips through her wetness as I keep kissing her. She whimpers as I slowly circle around her clit, her hips shamelessly rocking against my hand.

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “Your mouth.” Barely a whisper, her request makes me hard all over again. “Lick me.”

  “Come with me to Miami,” I murmur against her skin as I kiss her neck. She’s all soft and she smells like vanilla musk and woman. Turned on woman, and I can’t let go of her. Not for a night, not for a weekend.

  “I have to work,” she groans, tipping her head back to give me more skin to lick as I fuck her ruthlessly with my fingers.

  “I bet you have a week of vacation time you have no intention of ever using,” I rumble against her belly as I drop to my knees and strip her out of her panties. “Hold on.”

  She grips her hands tighter around the pole and watches, eyes dark and pleading, as I lift one of her legs and then the other, draping them over my shoulder.

  “Ahhh,” she cries out as I press my hands under her ass and lift her hips, bringing her pussy to my mouth.

  “Tell me you’ll ask for a day or two off and I’ll make you come.”

  “Mmmm.” She rolls her hips and I twist my face, kissing her inner thigh. “Cole!”

  “Promise me you’ll ask, beautiful. Say it, and you can have my tongue buried deep inside you.”

  “And if I don’t?” she asks, gasping as I puff hot air on her exposed cunt.

  I groan regretfully, enjoying this way more than I should. “Then I might need to put you down and go find some ice cream.”

  “Won’t you be busy with work?”

  “Little bit. Lots of time to lie on the beach with you. It’s not Hawaii, but it’s not here, either.”

  “Not here sounds good.” She tips her hips again, and I lick her almost where she wants it. Almost. Not quite. She growls at me.

  “Hey, growling is my thing.”

  “Licking my pussy is your thing, and you’re not doing it!”

  “Miami.”

  “Yes. Damn you, yes.” Before she can protest again, I close my mouth over her cunt and show her in a filthy kiss how grateful I am she’s bowed to my will.

  Usually I take my time. Fuck that shit. I want her come on my face and I want it now. I want this orgasm, then I’m carrying her to her bed, where she’s going to come again on my dick. Make me come inside her, and then I’ll hold her until she’s ready for me to do it all over again.

  I’m a fucking beast, devouring her, and she’s humping against my face, desperate for more.

  “Come on, Hailey,” I croon as I slide two fingers deep inside her. “You’ve got the tightest, sweetest pussy. Jesus, yes, come for me.”

  She clenches my fingers as I part her pussy lips, giving me more space to lap up her slippery sweetness. Her scent, the swollen plumpness of her cunt, the little moans as she grinds against me…it’s the best thing in the entire world.

  As soon as she explodes, pussy fluttering and legs shaking, I have her in my arms.

  I lay her on her bed, spreading her luscious legs so I can be inside her, and she wraps herself around me, pulling me in deep.

  I say it then, the secret I’ve kept inside. I say it so quietly she doesn’t hear me, I’m sure of it, because she doesn’t react.

  “I love you,” I breathe into her hair as she digs her heels into my ass. She moans my name and I thrust again, this time the words just in my heart. She kisses me as I pin her down, fucking her harder and faster until we come together in a sticky, perfect mess.

  —thirteen—

  Hailey

  For someone raised in a wealthy family, I don’t have a lot of experience flying on private airplanes, and it’s pretty sweet. We’re twenty minutes away from landing outside Miami, I have a happy buzz from some very expensive champagne, and I’m sitting sideways in the comfiest chair ever while Cole’s rubbing my feet. The flight attendant just cleared our plates and left us with warm, wet hand towels.

  “This might just be heaven,” I muse out loud, giving him a lopsided grin.

  My big, bad, scary beast flashes a happy smile right back at me. We haven’t worked out all our issues—haven’t talked about what comes next, or later on down the road, but I’m not thinking too hard about that. I’m just happy that I’ve let myself have him, for now or for however long he’ll have me, and I’m not overthinking it.

  Too much.

  I mean, I worry. He’s insane, and something is happening at work, something huge and dark that makes him restless. It’s why we’re going to Miami, but he keeps saying he just has a couple of meetings. And when I showed him my bikini, he promised to make them as short as possible.

  Three days away from Washington. Away from my family and press that recognizes me and mostly away from work.

  This foot rub is just the beginning of what is going to be the best weekend ever.

  Cole lifts my right leg, smoothing his big, rough palm up the back of my calf.

  “Stop looking up my skirt,” I grumble.

  “Stop wearing bright blue panties that scream ‘rip me off’.”

  “We don’t have enough time…” I whisper the denial at the same time as he tugs the fabric aside, totally revealing me for a liar. I’m aching for his touch, my sex swollen and wet, and we both know it won’t take long to get me off.

  “Hold this,” he whispers right back, a wolfish expression on his face as he wraps my fingers around the embarassingly damp crotch of my underwear. I grip it tightly, watching from under heavy eyelids as he presses my thighs further apart, putting me on display for him.

  Over his shoulder, I see a shadow move in the hallway to the galley kitchen where the flight attendant has been this whole time.

  “I think someone’s watching,” I whisper, a nervous thrill rocketing through me.

  “Is that a problem?” Cole asks, his voice low and rumbly. He doesn’t look back, or up at me.

  “No,” I breathe, surprising myself. I’m not sure if I like it for me, or for him. “Do you like that idea?”

  He slides first two, then three fingers into me, stretching me wide. “Only if you do.”

  “Just watching?” My voice cracks as he strokes me inside, rubbing my G-spot with each thrust of his hand.

  “Definitely.” He glances up at me, his face all seriousness now. “I don’t think I’d share well. Not when it comes to you. This pussy is all mine.”

  “Okay.”

  He smiles at me, pure sex now, as he twists his hand, bringing his thumb to my clit. “Let her see you come, Hailey. Let her see how much you like riding my hand. Let her see how fucking beautiful you are, spread open like this.”

  I arch my back, rocking my pelvis against his thumb. “That feels so good.”

  “It looks good.” He leans over me, taking my mouth in a kiss. “Come on, beautiful. Feel even better.”

  “I do,” I pant as the screws twist inside me. Higher and higher I climb, rocking against his thumb, pushed by the insistent rhythm of his fingers deep inside my body.

  “I’m going to fuck your ass tonight, Hailey.” Cole’s breath is coming as fast and hard as mine now, and this is just for us. His words are just for me. “I’m going to finger you like this, in your ass, until you’re loose and ready for me, and then I’m going to fill you with my come. I’m going to mark you as mine, everywhere.”

  That visual burns me up, because I know what that feels like now.

  When he came inside me the first time, I hadn’t expected how long it would still be running out of me.

  Or how hot I’d get when I thought about it after the fact.

  “I am yours,” I whisper. “Always.”

  “Love that, beautiful.” He nips at my lip. “Love that so much. God, look at you. Glazed eyes. Wet pussy. My good girl…” His voice dri
fts as I seize around him, coming hard and fast in the end.

  He kisses me again, over and over again as he cleans me up. I wriggle out of those bright blue panties that started it all, because they’re soaked.

  “Your turn,” I murmur, reaching for the erection straining at the front of his cargo pants.

  He snags my hand and brings my fingers to his mouth. “No time now. Besides, I told you. I’ve got plans for you later.”

  “I can’t wait.” We exchange a secret smile as the pilot’s voice crackles through the intercom, instructing us we’re about to begin our descent and we should buckle up.

  Once we land, the jet rolls right up to the small airport office. We step onto the portable staircase, Cole first. I stop at the top, tipping my face to the sunshine.

  “It’s so lovely and warm,” I gush at the bottom as Cole takes my hand.

  “I should have a car waiting on the other side of the building,” he says, grinning. Behind us, a staff person collects our bags and follows along.

  I’m painfully aware of the fact that I’m not wearing any underwear, and as we step into the modern glass building, the air-conditioning brushing against my bare skin everywhere, I squeeze Cole’s hand. “I just need to freshen up a minute, okay?”

  We’re almost at the concierge desk, and I blush when the pretty dark-haired woman behind the counter looks at me. Can she tell? God, I need to get better at this good girl/dirty girl routine.

  Cole waves his hand and the cart behind us stops. I snag my carry-on bag, which has an emergency change of clothes in it, and dart into the ladies room, which is just as nice as the rest of the private airport—two big stalls and a shared sink area.

  Just in case my boyfriend might get any ideas in the car ride, I swap out the jean skirt I was wearing for a pair of white capris that go just as well with the turquoise tank top I’ve got on under my linen jacket.

  Back at the sink, I pull out my make-up bag. I’m retouching my lipstick when the concierge lady comes in.