Don't Fall For Me : An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Hate to Love Book 1)

by Gigi Black

  I opened my mouth, my tongue darting out and tracing my upper lip.

  “Come on, Hazel,” he growled, slipping his fingers around the back of my neck and twining them into my hair. “Say it, and I’ll do it. I’ll make it come true.”

  You’re insane. This is not… helping anything. It won’t—

  “Fuck you,” I hissed, the combination of arousal and anger driving me over the edge.

  Damien brought his lips down on mine, crushing me to his body, his cock hard and urgent against my silk cocktail dress.

  My eyes rolled back in my head, and heat exploded from my core outward, pressure pulsing through my veins to the tips of my fingers and toes, to the soles of my feet, my palms, and my breasts, the planes of my stomach, and the apex of my pussy.

  No tongue. He’d done that without inserting his tongue into my mouth.

  What was this power he had over me? I wasn’t this girl. I didn’t let people make me feel things.

  “Say it again,” he whispered against my lips. His second hand traced down my side, along the curve of my hip and then up again.

  “Fuck you.”

  Damien pressed me up against the front door with a dull thump. He slid his hands down the front of my dress and cupped my breasts, playing with my nipples, the silk sending shots of pleasure through me.

  The second kiss was deeper than the first, and I opened my mouth to him, allowing him inside. His tongue was warm, wet, persistent then darting back and toying with me.

  I grabbed fistfuls of his suit jacket, ripping him closer, nipping his bottom lip hard. “Fuck you,” I repeated. “Fuck you.”

  “I’m going to make you come right here, right now, in front of the whole fucking street if you don’t get that door open right now.”

  I’d dropped my clutch again, and again he picked it up for me, opening it with sure fingers. He extracted my keys, and I showed him which would let us inside. He inserted it, then pressed me into the door again, dragging kisses over my lips, my cheeks and my neck, using his free hand to grab my ass and bring my leg up and around his hips.

  “Fuck you,” I said, one last time.

  The door opened, and he stopped me from falling into the hall.

  7

  Damien

  Bad, bad, bad, but so fucking good.

  Yeah, this was probably going to mess things up, but I was beyond the point of no return with Hazel. She tore at my jacket, her desperation a turn-on I hadn’t anticipated.

  Once. We’d done this once before, and I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t thought about that time in the years since.

  “Hazel,” I said, against her lips.

  She shook her head frantically, fingers fluttering up to touch my hungry mouth. “Have to be quiet.”

  “Bedroom.” I tapped the front door shut with my foot, returning my lips to her skin, pressing hot, wet trails down her throat.

  Hazel gasped and held back moans, trapping them in her throat to keep from making too much noise.

  We stumbled down the dark hall, her fingers working under my jacket then to my shirt buttons. She fumbled, finally popping the first few free, and worked her fingers underneath the cotton. A sigh of pleasure, of satisfaction at the skin-to-skin contact, escaped her quivering mouth.

  “Bedroom,” I repeated, dragging my teeth over the soft skin of her throat. “Now.”

  She backtracked, opened a door to the right, and stumbled inside. Lights on. Door shut. My fingers on her silk dress. I pulled it up and over, mussing her long, caramel hair. Her pale breasts bounced free, nipples already pink and hard. The slope of her belly led to a single strip of hair trailing down her pussy.

  A road for me to follow with mouth and hands.

  I slipped my fingers between her legs and found her wet and swollen. My cock throbbed insistently against my pants.

  “Fuck, Hazel. Fuck, you’re sexy.” No lies there. Small waist, thick ass, thighs tasty enough to chew on. I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth and worked her pussy with my fingers, dragging her wetness over her clit.

  She gasped and clung to me, tearing at my jacket. She wanted me naked.

  “Not yet,” I muttered, and lowered her onto her bed. I was vaguely aware of the white sheets and a blur of pictures on the wall.

  She lay on the bed, her eyes blazing hatred and desire, her hair spilling across the pillow like threads of spun sugar.

  I stripped off my jacket and tossed it aside then freed myself from the shirt.

  Her pupils dilated, and she bit her bottom lip, tracing my abs with her gaze. She lingered on the tattoos arcing over my shoulder and left pec, squirming, her legs kicking out.

  I lay on top of her, pinning her wrists above her head, and feasted on the soft skin on the underside of her chin. I devoured her neck next, palming her breasts, pressing them together and moving down her body to suck them into my mouth.

  She gasped and shuddered. “Stop teasing me.”

  “Quiet,” I grunted and nipped her precious skin.

  “I can’t.”

  “You’re going to be good and quiet, Hazel, and you’ll do as I say. I’m going to take you to the edge and bring you back again before I let you come. And if you scream...” I scraped my stubble over her sensitive skin.

  She trembled. “Please. I want you inside me.” She colored, her hands escaping my grasp. She brought them to her face.

  “Don’t cover yourself,” I said. “Your face is perfect, Hazel.”

  She showed me her pink cheeks, her eyes, hazy with desire.

  “Good.” I licked and kissed a path down her stomach, dipping my tongue into her shallow belly button and drawing goosebumps from her skin. I toyed with her, suckling on her hips and then the insides of her thighs, wetting her everywhere except for her mound until she was dripping so much she’d already wet the sheets.

  She’d never forget tonight. I’d make sure of it. It would haunt her fantasies, her dreams, and her days for the rest of her life. She would know that I’d claimed her utterly and that no man could ever measure up.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  I parted her legs and found her swollen and waiting. A finger spread across her clit brought her hand to her mouth. She bit down on the back of it, lifting herself slightly, her breasts shaking, her body practically fucking singing for me.

  She’d shucked off fear and hesitation and was totally free. The demand for pleasure leaked from every pore, and I was more than happy to oblige.

  I slipped two fingers inside her and brought my lips to her clit.

  She whined.

  I flicked my tongue over her. “Quiet, Hazel.”

  She nodded frantically, her mouth still covering lips that were red and raw from our kissing.

  “Stay quiet, and I won’t stop.” A threat and a promise.

  Another nod, glittering emerald eyes wide.

  I sucked on her, making noises that drove me crazy, pressing my fingers in and out of her, finding the rhythm that brought the most tremors, the most gasps and head tosses. She grabbed the pillow and pulled it over her face, noises escaping her throat.

  When she got too loud, I stopped, and she’d fall as quiet as the grave.

  The pillow fell away, and her expression grew wild. She grabbed the top of my head, gyrating her pussy against my tongue. She threw her head back, her mouth dropping open, her throat working around a silent scream.

  Her heat closed around my fingers, massaging as she reached that peak. She came down on the other side gasping for breath.

  Before she could think, I stripped off my pants, bringing my cock out, thick and heavy in my hand. I fished a condom out of my wallet, tore it open with my teeth, then slid it on. The latex strained to cover my dick.

  “It’s not going to fit,” Hazel whispered, wide-eyed.

  And here I was thinking I couldn’t get any more fucking turned on. My dick throbbed, pre-cum gathering in the tip of the rubber.

  I grabbed her legs and pushed them to her shoulders
, then brought my dick to her entrance. I met her gaze. “Ready?”

  “Yes. Now. Please.” The words were choked.

  I entered her, the velvet silk of her walls muted by the condom. She cried out, and I covered her mouth, working my dick inside her, the pleasure of her soft, supple body against the hardness of mine driving me to the edge, nearly instantly.

  I held onto my sanity, my thumbs biting into the meat of her thighs, my lips finding hers again. Her tongue was desperate, massaging, wanting more of me, as much as she could get.

  Hazel would have everything she wanted and more.

  I flipped her over onto her front then brought her to her knees, pounding into her fast then bringing the pace to a slow burn. I reached between her legs and found her clit, brushing my fingers over it again and again.

  Hazel’s second climax was as vicious as the first, and the pressure of her tightening around my hungry cock was almost too much to take. But this wasn’t how I wanted it to end.

  I brought her onto her back again, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. I kissed her, bracing my arms either side of her head, working my shaft deep and allowing myself to focus on her smell, her taste, the sensation of her nipples brushing against my chest.

  My balls tightened, and my thrusting grew wild and uncontrollable. I filled the condom in five long squirts, driven by the thought of filling her without the barrier.

  “Fuck,” I muttered. “Fuck.” I kissed her a final time then grasped the base of the rubber and drew out of her.

  Hazel’s skin was dewy with sweat, but she hid her body from me under the sheets, eyes blazing with angry heat again.

  “Bathroom?” I asked.

  She pointed to the door and then right.

  I grabbed my clothing and headed out of the room, quiet so I wouldn’t wake her old man. Five minutes later, I was back in Hazel’s room, the condom disposed of and my clothes back on. She was dressed too--wearing a loose T-shirt that hid all the delicious curves I’d just enjoyed.

  “You need to leave,” she said, immediately. “This was a mistake.”

  I brought out my shit-eating grin. “Was it? The wet spot on your bed begs to differ.” I laughed, raising my hands at her outraged hiss. “All right, gorgeous. I’ll leave.”

  She scrambled off the bed and followed me to the front door, like she was afraid I’d hide out in the fucking hall closet and jump out in the middle of the night with a “surprise!” She’d clearly forgotten who I was.

  I didn’t chase women. I didn’t need to.

  “You can’t come back here ever again,” she said. “This was just... a... it was nothing.” Her lips parted, and her tongue darted out, wetting them.

  Quickly, before I could regret it, I brought my mouth to hers and gave her one last parting kiss.

  I drew back, leaving her breathing ragged. “What are you doing?” she growled. “What are you...?”

  “Just something to remember me by.” And then I was gone, down the front steps and into the waiting SUV. She stood on the front step, glowering at me as the car pulled off.

  Likely, Hazel believed it was the last time she’d ever see me. Little did she know, this was only the beginning.

  8

  Hazel

  If I kicked myself any harder over what had happened last night, I’d morph into a donkey or a horse or... shit, I couldn’t even come up with a good metaphor for how I felt.

  I’d let Damien have his way with my body and mind, and I had enjoyed it. I had enjoyed every second. The aftermath was distilled fury at myself for making the idiotic choice to let him into the house in the first place.

  He had told me to “say it,” and I had spat the words out, loud and clear. “Fuck you.”

  I’d never be able to cuss again without getting turned on.

  “Bullshit,” I murmured.

  It was the start of a long shift at work, but there hadn’t been any delivery calls yet, so I hung out while customers traipsed in and ordered pizzas of every size and type. Deep dish pepperoni was the most popular.

  Damien’s order.

  This was ridiculous.

  I didn’t want him. Didn’t even like him as a person.

  I sat at one of the corner tables with its checked tablecloth with a notepad, tapping my pen against it. The plan was to forget Damien and to come up with a way to save McCutcheon’s Café. Yeah, my dad had technically already sold it, but I hadn’t studied business management only to lose my dream restaurant.

  “Yo, Hazel!” Jessa waved from the counter. “Can you cover for me for like five minutes? I need to use the little bitches’ room.”

  “Sure.” It would give me a break from beating myself up and going around in circles over the business plan I’d been drawing up to take to the bank.

  I shifted into friendly “how may I help you” gear and positioned myself behind the counter in the Pieslice—one of many outlets across the city and country. It ate at me that I worked here, rather than in the café, but I had to suck it up and do what I could to support Dad and try to scrabble the capital together to get a loan.

  I served a few customers, gave them their order numbers, and put the orders through, my mind wandering back to the café then to Damien then to the café again.

  You have to stop thinking about him.

  Besides, I wouldn’t be seeing him again.

  “Hey!” My sister appeared in front of the counter, dark circles under her eyes and her blonde hair tied back in a messy bun. She had a vicious hickey on her neck. “Are you ignoring my calls?”

  “I’m at work, Kara,” I replied, waspishly. “I’m not ignoring them. I’m just not seeing them.”

  “Someone’s in a bitchy mood, sheesh. What crawled down your throat and laid a turd?”

  “Such a way with words,” I said. “Mind keeping your voice down? There are customers waiting for their orders, and I doubt they want to hear about… turds while they’re waiting.”

  The woman at the table closest to us, a redhead and with sharp blue eyes, stared at Kara, her lips twitching like she was about to bust a rib laughing.

  Kara stuck her tongue out at me. “You’re in a shitty mood today. Let me guess, Damien Eat Your Heart Out Woods got to you.”

  “Kara.”

  “He did,” my sister said, laughing. “Man, I knew that would happen the minute I laid eyes on the guy. I remember how obsessed you were with him back in high school.”

  I’d never told her about the kidnap of my virginity nor the destruction of my heart.

  “So…? What happened?” she asked. “Did you, you know.” She wriggled her eyebrows at me. “Do the nasty dance? The horizontal bop and jive? Or was it more of a… hmm, how do I put this? Gag reflex test? Know what I meant?”

  “I think the pizza menu knows what you mean at this point,” I replied, cringing at that same redhead who now had a hand in front of her mouth to keep from showing either her mirth or disgust. “Let’s take it down a notch, shall we?”

  “Did someone say gag reflex?” Jessa arrived to take over.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. I wasn’t a prude, but there was a time and a place, and also, I never wanted to discuss Damien with my sister. Hell, with anyone. The more I talked about it, the more real it became.

  I circled the counter and escorted my sister away from it and Jessa’s inquisitive streak.

  “What are you even doing here?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  “Oh, that doesn’t start until next week,” Kara replied, giggling and pointing at the love bite on her neck. “Good thing too, right? Then again, they can cover this up with makeup. You’d be amazed at what you can get away with when—”

  “What happened last night?” I asked. “With you and Timmy?” I hadn’t figured Kara was the settling down type, but she’d been solid with her boyfriend.

  “He cheated on me,” Kara replied. “So I broke it off with him and decided to have a little fun of my own.”

  “That’s terri
ble, Ka.”

  “Nah, it’s OK. Seriously, sis, you’re too… deep with all that emotional stuff. You need to chill. Sex is sex. Fun is fun.” She slung an arm around my shoulder and squeezed me tight to her side. “I just came over to say thanks for coming to celebrate with me last night.”

  Liar. She’d come to find out what had happened with Damien.

  “Yeah, it was nice.” And now I was the liar. Watching my sister get with some rando dude wasn’t high on my list of things to do on a Friday night.

  “How nice?” Kara asked. “Like… what happened with you and Damien?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh, please!” She practically shrieked it, and I shushed her. “You were practically in love with the guy back in the day. There’s no way nothing happened last night. I can see it on your face. You’ve got this self-satisfied glow combined with…” Kara leaned in and sniffed me. “Yep, the stench of guilt. You boinked him.”

  Ultimately, a better description than the “horizontal bop and jive” but still mortifying. I wasn’t a sexual prude, it was just Damien. He could get anyone he wanted and I hadn’t wanted to fall into that category again. “Nope. You’re wrong. Nothing happened.”

  “Nothing happened?” Kara asked, looking past me and out the glass windows of the Pieslice.

  “Yes. Nothing happened.”

  “So, you’re never going to see him again?” A sneaky smile had appeared on my sister’s lips. “Like never ever?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Generally, when you boink a guy, and it’s a really good reaming, he wants to see you again. You know, for round two.”

  “I swear to god if you don’t stop talking like that, my skin is going to cringe right off my body.”

  “Keep your skin on, sis,” Kara said. “Damien’s going to be weirded out if you don’t.” She blew me a kiss then headed for the door. I turned, opening my mouth to tell her what a weirdo she was, but caught sight of a glinting black SUV outside.

  My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  Damien stood outside the Pieslice, dressed in his usual suit and tie, his head tipped to one side, sunlight painting his strong jawline and devilish dark eyes. He raised an eyebrow at me and beckoned.