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

by Gigi Black

  She halted on the stairs, her knuckles white on the polished balustrade. “You arrogant, son of a… you—”

  “So you haven’t fallen for me,” I said, and the knot of tension in my chest eased. If she wasn’t in love with me, then there wasn’t a problem. I followed her up the stairs and stopped behind her. “What’s the problem? I thought, for a second, that you were jealous.”

  “You don’t understand anything.”

  I placed my hand over hers. She flinched.

  “Then help me understand why you would want to back out of such a good deal. Are you really going to jeopardize everything for… what? You still haven’t told me.”

  “Your father is a horrible man.”

  “That’s why you want out? Because you can’t stand Mortimer?” I laughed, my mirth bitter and barely audible. “Welcome to my world.”

  “I don’t want to aid and abet him,” she said, but it smacked of a lie. There was something deeper going on here that she wasn’t telling me.

  She’s fallen for you. That’s got to be it. “If you have feelings for me,” I said, “you need to tell me now.” I nuzzled her neck with my nose. “I won’t touch you if you do. I won’t make it worse for you, because there will be nothing but heartbreak in it for you if that’s the case.”

  “Dickhead.”

  “Tell me why you want out. I can fix it.” I ran my hand up her arm to her neck, brushing her hair back then planting a wet, hot kiss on her flesh. “Is it that you want me still? It’s the sex. You miss it. You wish we’d agreed to thirty days rather than a weekend.”

  “I can’t do this. It’s wrong.”

  “But so right,” I replied. “Do you feel guilty about it?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “The sex isn’t part of the agreement. It’s just a happy coincidence. Remember that.” Another soft kiss.

  What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing, asshole?

  “Were you jealous?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Jealous because you want to fuck me,” I clarified, so she wouldn’t have to admit to being emotionally invested in this. I refused to believe she was. It would be easier if she despised me again. “You hated the thought of me fucking someone else when you want it so bad. Is that right?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” I replied and slipped the ring out of my pocket. “Tell you what, gorgeous.” I took her hand and spun her around to face me. “I will fuck no one else but you for the next thirty days if you stay.”

  “I’m not a whore,” she spat, but her pupils were dilated. The thought of me inside her already planted in her head.

  “That’s not what I’m saying. It’s not part of the contract. No deal involved. It’s a promise between you and me.” I slipped the ring back onto her finger, trying to ignore the quickening pace of my heart at the sight of it there. “I won’t make you jealous again. I won’t let another woman near me. I won’t let that picture enter your mind for the next thirty days.” I grasped her hips and pulled her close, so she could feel my erection. “I will fuck you every morning and every night. I’ll take you in the afternoon. I’ll satisfy you sexually for the next month. My personal ‘thank you’ for helping me out.”

  Hazel’s breaths came in gasps, and her nipples were erect, pricking the silk dress. I flicked one of them idly.

  “We can hate fuck,” I said, chuckling. “Come on, Haze, we’ve always had sexual chemistry. It’s the reason you lost your virginity to me. It’s the reason you’ve been pining after me for years.”

  “I haven’t.” But she didn’t move away.

  “If you want me to satisfy you, I can. Make it easier for you to fake the engagement, wouldn’t it?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Tell me you want to stay.” I wanted her in this house. I wanted to enjoy what was left of this month with her. I could focus on the aftermath later.

  Hazel’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

  “Show me you want to stay.”

  28

  Hazel

  In a crazy way, Damien was right.

  Then again, everything about this situation was crazy, so what had I expected?

  It was a dumbass move to throw away all the “work” we’d put in so far just because I couldn’t handle my envy. And yeah, I liked believing that the jealousy was just for the physical stuff. Maybe, if we got that out of the way, I’d have some clarity.

  Weak. Weak. Weak.

  And scared too.

  I was terrified of walking away from this shitty agreement because it would mean losing everything, and all because I couldn’t keep my emotions in check. I had to come to terms with the fact that my father and sister needed my help, and if I was heartbroken in the process, then so what, right? Who cared?

  It wasn’t like I hadn’t gotten over him before. I could do it again.

  And all it takes for you to do a 180 is a bit of attention from him. Lame.

  I pushed out of Damien’s arms and walked up the stairs, swaying my ass, trying not to trip over my heels. I had to get it together before I lost everything. Rational thought dictated that I did not have enough money to put my father and sister up anywhere or to fix the house.

  Whether I liked it or not, I needed Damien just as much as he needed me. Integrity had gone out of the window the minute I’d penned my name on the dotted line, so what was I hanging onto here? Some memory of the person I’d wanted to become. She’d died the minute the café had been sold. She’d died along with her mother.

  I reached my bedroom and opened the door, clicked on the lights. The king-sized bed beckoned, white sheets pristine, pillows puffy.

  Let go. Let him in.

  Had I gone mad? To flip-flop like this wasn’t like me but… it was him. I kept wanting to be around him, hear his voice, smell his cologne, and my willpower wavered. We’d had sex for an entire weekend. It wasn’t fair.

  “What do you want, Hazel?” Damien stood in the doorway to my room, his shirt halfway open, now, and his pecs and incredible abs on display. His gaze was lidded, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  I slipped my fingers under the silken straps of my dress and removed them from my shoulders. “Come in and close the door.”

  Damien entered and kicked it shut behind him. He circled me like a predator. “You do this, and I’m going to fuck you raw, Hazel. Every day and every night. That what you want?”

  I let the dress fall to my ankles. “Is the door locked?”

  “Does it need to be?” He continued circling. “You afraid someone might walk in on us?”

  “Obviously.”

  He chuckled and went to turn the key. “All or nothing,” he said.

  “I want it all,” I whispered, shaking.

  Damien crossed the room in broad strides. He palmed my breasts, pressed his fingers into my pussy, and fingered me on the spot, bringing thrills of pleasure that I’d barely had a millisecond to anticipate. I cried out, and he silenced me with a kiss, his tongue hot and insistent.

  “Come for me,” he said, into my mouth. “Come for me, right now.”

  And my body obeyed. I closed around his fingers, losing grip on him and the world. He held me upright, sucking on my bottom lip, biting, then carried me backward and practically threw me onto the bed.

  He ripped his shirt open, buttons pinging in every direction, then unzipped his pants and kicked them away. He was completely naked, and it had to be one of my favorite ways to see him. Naked, his tattoos arcing over one shoulder, his dark, coffee-colored eyes sweeping over me. His cock throbbed, moisture gathering at the tip.

  Damien lowered himself to the bed and blew on my pussy, gently. I pulled at the sheets, arching backward, pushing myself up and away, but he grabbed me and dragged me back down.

  He buried his face between my legs and gave me the same treatment I’d gotten just two days prior. My second climax was stronger than the first, exhausting, but I wanted more. One weekend hadn�
��t been enough, and there was something about Damien—I didn’t ever want him to stop when we were together.

  It was the only part of him I could get without him shutting down completely.

  Damien licked a path up my body and sucked one nipple into my mouth, then the other, massaging and squeezing, bringing waves of desire that shouldn’t have been possible after two mind-blowing orgasms.

  He didn’t ask if I was ready this time. He already had the answer in my moans and gasps and silent pleas.

  “I’m yours for the next month,” he said, placing his dick at my entrance. “Happy?”

  “Yes,” I hissed.

  He thrust inside me, one sharp, swift pump that sent me into palpitations. I slapped my hands onto his shoulders, dug my fingernails into his skin.

  “Oh my god.”

  Damien pressed into me, working us into a rhythm that was slow and lustful. It was the type of sex that was supposed to be enjoyed—a slower pace. We didn’t have to rush to climax, and he wanted me to come again. His eyes said it all. He toyed with my hair, grasped my face, kissed me gently, touching me everywhere.

  I shut my eyes and let the sensations wash over me.

  Damien turned me onto my side and bit down on my neck, pumping a little quicker, his dick so hard and thick that it started hurting a little. But he didn’t stop, didn’t come, and his fingers found my clit.

  I was incredibly sensitive from the last two times, but I didn’t want him to stop. He played me with gently at first, then insistently, and I grabbed a pillow and pressed it over my face to mask the screams from my third orgasm.

  My legs and arms trembled, and my body went limp and weak.

  “Don’t give up on me yet, gorgeous.” Damien slipped out of me, giving me a break from the onslaught of pleasure. “I told you, I’m yours for thirty days. Shit, maybe you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. I’m not going to stop until you’ve come so many times you can’t remember your own name.”

  “I’m almost there already,” I stammered.

  There was nothing sexier than the laugh that came next. Maybe the sex was this good because I’d been crazy jealous at the sight of him with another woman?

  “You’re going to come on my face,” he said. “And I’m going to come in your mouth. That sound good to you?”

  “Really good.” I’d never been that big on giving head, but with him it was different. His pleasure only made mine sweeter, and I couldn’t think of a better way to finish him off than with my mouth. It would bring a weird sense of achievement.

  He lay down then gestured for me to turn around and get on top of him, so that my pussy was in his face, and his dick was in mine.

  “That’s it,” Damien said. “Fuck yeah.” He slapped my ass cheeks then slipped an arm around me and pulled my lower, so that my pussy was on his lips. He suckled on my clit then tongue-fucked me, casually. “Suck my dick, gorgeous.”

  I lifted his thick shaft and put my lips around the mushroom tip, doubting how wide my mouth could stretch. He was huge, and an ache started in my jaw.

  Damien’s tongue lavished my pussy with pleasure, and I did the same for him, sucking his cock and working his shaft with my hand, focusing most of my attention on his head. The ache didn’t bother me. All I wanted was more of him, and I continued, rocking back and forth on his face, sucking and spitting, moaning for all I was worth.

  “Jesus. Holy fuck, Hazel. That’s good.”

  Pride and excitement thrummed through me, and I kept working him. I wanted him to come. I wanted to taste him and to know that I’d done this. I’d made him lose it, just like he made me lose it.

  Damien tensed underneath me. “I’m coming,” he said, with a mouthful of my pussy.

  He throbbed in my mouth, and I lost control too, shaking, moaning, swallowing, and pulsing. The sensations were too exquisite.

  After, Damien lifted me gently. He helped me turn around then placed me on the bed, my head on the pillow. He covered me up with a blanket, kissed my temple, and left the room, the door shutting with a click behind him.

  I was alone again, spent from the sex, the doubts creeping at the corners of my mind.

  29

  Damien

  One week later…

  “We can’t keep doing this,” Hazel whispered in the gloom, her head still resting on my chest. “We have to get some sleep. And you can’t stay in my room.”

  She said that every morning at around about this time, after we’d spent all night lost in each other’s bodies, panting and heaving and wet. I fucking loved it because it just meant we’d be doing it again tonight.

  And that I had the entire day to toy with her. Tease her when others were in the room, with sly looks, smiles, brushes. There was something so fucking hot about not being able to do anything in front of her family.

  Because Hazel was insistent that they didn’t find out about the “engagement.” She believed her father’s heart would be broken when it ended.

  “How much do you really enjoy sleep?” I asked, rolling her over, trapping her underneath me. I took her lips, parted them gently, and tasted her for the thousandth time tonight. It hadn’t gotten old. If anything, my desire for her had grown stronger.

  Fuck alone knew what I’d do when the engagement was over.

  Whack off to pictures of her?

  “I enjoy sleep,” she said, breathlessly, after the kiss finally ended, “as much as the next person.”

  “Not enough to stop.”

  “How do you know?” Hazel pouted, and it was nothing short of adorable. “I might stop right now. I might just tell you that it’s time for you to leave before someone discovers you here.”

  I reached for her lampshade on the bedside table and switched it on. The flare of light made her squint and upped her sexy-adorable factor by 100 percent.

  She squirmed and threw a hand over her breasts, as if I hadn’t seen them, sucked them, and titty-fucked them already. “What are you doing? Trying to blind me?”

  “Trying to see you. You’re at your best when I can see, hear, smell, and taste you.”

  “You’re at your cockiest always.”

  “That’s what you like about me.” I winked, and planted a kiss on her nose. “But you’re right. I should leave. It’s six a.m.”

  “What?!” She tried sitting up and promptly rammed her forehead into my chin.

  “Jesus,” I grunted and rubbed my jaw. “What are you made of, granite?”

  “It’s six?” She clasped a hand over her head, squeezing one eye shut. “My dad will wake up soon. He might already be awake. How can it be six? What did you do?”

  “I sent Father Time a naked Snap and he told me whatever I wish is his command,” I replied.

  “Not funny.”

  I lifted a finger and thumb. “A little funny.”

  Hazel rolled away from me and ran for her robe. She nearly slipped on the carpet but caught herself on the dresser, ass jiggling enticingly.

  “Easy, there,” I said. “Don’t break anything.”

  “Like what? There’s nothing breakable in here.” Hazel tugged on the robe and tied it, hiding the perfect slopes of her breasts from view.

  “I meant you, dingus.”

  She flipped me off then pointed to the door. “You’d better evacuate before they find you here. I can’t believe it’s almost six. Damn sun-eliminating curtain thingies! They block out all the light.”

  I flashed her a grin then got up and stretched, lazily.

  “Damien.”

  I pulled on my pants and shirt then headed for the door but paused on the way there. “Shit, I forgot something.”

  “What?”

  I grabbed her, brought her close, and planted one last kiss on her lips. She practically curled into me, and I left her breathless and wanting.

  A shower and a change of clothes later, and I was down in the kitchen, practically suckling on the espresso machine’s spout. Christ, I was tired. All worth it, though.

/>   Between the bouts of incredible fucking, Hazel had exposed more of herself to me. Told me about the first time she’d realized she’d had a crush on me, about her mother’s passing—I’d heard about it through the grapevine, but the pain in her voice had brought me close to opening up to her about my shit.

  Couldn’t do that, though. Couldn’t take it too far.

  “You look like hell,” Kara said, from her spot at the gleaming kitchen island. “And that says a lot coming from me.” Hazel’s sister looked like she’d been dragged backward out of a bush.

  “Tired from work?” I asked. “I heard you got another audition.”

  Kara yawned. “Yeah. You could say that.”

  Hazel entered the room, her arm around her father, and guided him to the island. She helped him onto a stool, shaking her head at me when I offered help.

  “Morning, Mr. McCutcheon. How are you?”

  The old man was gaunt—a shadow of who he’d been back in the day and waning more and more each day. It was alarming, and Hazel’s faux upbeat attitude didn’t help. Neither did the chemo.

  “Oh, I’m just fine.”

  “Hungry?” Hazel asked. “I can fix you some oatmeal, Dad.”

  “No, Nut, I’m not hungry this morning.”

  Kara sighed and pushed off from the table. “I need to sleep. Catch y’all on the flipside.” She trudged out of the kitchen, pulling down a glittery skirt that barely covered her ass cheeks.

  Something weird was going on there, but I didn’t have the inclination to figure out what it was. My father had called to ask for a meeting—hopefully, that didn’t mean he’d decided to move up the board meeting. I was happy with the thirty-day agreement.

  Maybe I can convince Hazel to stay here for a little longer afterward.

  I’d already held off on telling her that her father’s house was ready for them to move back. It was easier having her here. Besides, it made the whole fiancée deal seem more real to Mortimer.

  “So, what are your plans for the day?” Hazel’s dad asked, leaning an elbow on the table. He pressed his hand to his forehead.