One Week Hating You: One Week Series Book 2 (standalone)

by Roya Carmen

She shakes her head and stares at the ground for the longest time. “I just don’t want either of you to get hurt. You two have a lot of history… it could get complicated.”

  I refuse to think about that. It won’t get complicated because I won’t let it. I just want to be bold and take what I want, for once in my life.

  “Can you give me his phone number?”

  She cocks a brow. “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  She gives me the number and I input it into my contacts.

  She downs another swig of her Gatorade. “But don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

  Am I being stupid? I’m just horny. I text Corrie, because if anyone will understand, it’s her.

  I’m in trouble. I so badly want to sleep with Blake. What should I do?

  She replies instantly.

  Go for it! I’m so jealous!

  I grab a moist towelette from my purse and freshen up my lady bits. I fluff my hair a little and touch up my lipstick. As soon as Momma steps out for a walk, I look around to make sure no one’s watching, and I quickly reach behind me and grab a pack of condoms. I’ve had my eyes on these ones for the last hour; Trojan Magnum BareSkins. My heart is hammering as I tear the packaging open, and dig one out and swiftly tuck it in the pocket of my skirt. I tuck the box quietly away in my purse. I ring the condoms in quickly before Momma catches me, my heart still pounding and my fingers shaking all the while. I may be sex-starved, but I’m not a thief.

  I exhale a long breath and settle back on the stool. The doorbell clangs and I say hello to a customer, a nice elderly man with a kind friendly smile. If only he knew what was on my mind.

  As soon as Momma comes back, I excuse myself and grab a magazine off the shelf. “I’m going out back for a while, to take a breather.”

  She eyes me with suspicion. “You haven’t taken up smoking, have you?”

  I laugh. “Nope. I just want to read this trash mag. These are my guilty pleasure.”

  She smiles. “Mine too.”

  I walk away smiling. Gossip mags are not my guilty pleasure. Blake Taylor is.

  I text Blake with shaky fingers. I might be acting bold, but I’m still pretty nervous.

  Get over here right now, and finish what you’ve started. Waiting in the storage room.

  My heart practically stops when I tap on the small green arrow. I can’t believe I just did that. I hope it doesn’t backfire.

  This could destroy me.

  17

  I STARE AT MY PHONE, waiting for a reply… anything. I don’t care if he rejects me, as long as he doesn’t leave me hanging.

  There’s nothing. I draw in a long breath, trying to calm myself. He’s coming. I know he is. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. I could feel it in his touch, in the ragged tempo of his breathing. I felt it the other night in his bed.

  Maybe he’s playing with me again. The man does love to play games.

  The anticipation only makes it more intense. I sit on a stack of Gatorade cases, and flip through the magazine. I can’t focus long enough to read anything. Faces. Familiar faces, pretty faces. Fancy dresses, gorgeous hair. Headlines and joke bubbles. I don’t really see any of it. I keep flipping feverishly, my heart beating about a mile a minute.

  I check my phone – it’s been ten minutes. What was I thinking? I should have never—

  The door swings open, and there he is. He’s just as he was earlier, but flushed and breathless. His cocky smirk is gone, replaced by dark eyes and a very intense expression.

  I drop the magazine and stand. I’m nervous and not quite sure how to act. This bold, sexy siren act is new to me. I’m not exactly an expert at seduction. Although, from the look in his eyes, I don’t think I’ll need to do much.

  His dark gaze lingers on me as he closes the door quietly behind him.

  I’m breathless when I say, “You… you said you wanted to have me over the cases.”

  A slow wicked smiles stretches across his beautiful face. “I did.”

  I was kind of hoping that he would just jump me as soon as he saw me, but he’s making me work for it. He’s playing with me again.

  Okay, I’m game. It’s my first time playing, but I’m sure I’ll pick it up quickly enough. I’ve seen enough movies and sexy scenes in Grey’s Anatomy. I tilt my head to the side in what I hope is a very seductive pose.

  He smiles.

  I reach under my skirt and pull at the band of my panties. As soon as my fingers make contact with the fabric, I remember what I’m wearing; pink and black polka-dot bikini briefs. Not as sexy as a black lace thong, but they’ll do. I don’t pull my gaze away from his as I slowly peel them down over my thighs.

  His smile fades and his lips part. He wants this as much as I do. The way he’s looking at me makes me even more aroused. If he walks away from me, I might just die of unquenched desire.

  My hair brushes the floor as I bend down and peel my panties over my ankles and pumps. When I look up at him again, he’s leaning in closer and his eyes have softened.

  I smile up at him, panties in a ball in my right hand. With my left, I reach into my pocket and pull out the condom. I swallow hard and even though I desperately want to tear my gaze away from him, I don’t. My voice cracks a little when I say softly, “I know you’re dying to fuck me, Blake. Here’s your chance. You won’t get another one.”

  My pulse races, threatening to run away from me.

  He closes his eyes for a long second. When he opens them again, they’re full of want. “I do.” He closes the distance between us and reaches for my hand. He takes my panties and brings them to his nose. He inhales them deeply and smiles, the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen. He inches closer and I think he’s going to kiss me, but he reaches for my other hand. He studies the condom and smirks. “You remembered… Magnums.”

  I smile. Yes, I remembered that he’s bigger than most.

  He slips the condom into his pocket, and cups my face in his large rough hands. He’s still holding my panties in his hand, the fabric pressed against my cheek. I get lost in the intensity of his kiss for a moment, in the taste of his sweet mouth, in his breath on my skin. Our tongues dance and our mouths search, familiar but also new. His kiss is not the same one I remember.

  I reluctantly pull away and a flicker of confusion crosses his features. “Just once,” I tell him. “We’re doing this only once,” I clarify. “I just need to get you out of my system.”

  He smiles. “I need to get you out of my system too.” He presses his hot mouth on my neck and drives me wild.

  “You are such a tease,” I whisper. “Why did you do that to me?”

  His laughter vibrates against my skin. “Payback,” he says. “That was tougher on me than it was on you, Freckles. I was so fucking hard.”

  I close my eyes and reach down. “You still are.”

  “I’m not wasting it this time,” he groans. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

  He leans in to kiss me again, but I stop him. “No kissing,” I say.

  He cocks a brow, confused.

  “This is just sex,” I tell him. “It’s what you like, right? Casual no-strings-attached sex?”

  He’s speechless, studying me with dark eyes.

  “You don’t have to worry about me clinging,” I tell him. “I’m out of here in three days.”

  Emotion flickers across his face, it almost looks like disappointment, or it could just be confusion. I reach down and toy with the fly of his pants. “I just want a good fuck.”

  He’s still speechless, absolutely shocked. I’m not the same sweet Maeve I used to be, but I think he likes it.

  Finally, he manages to speak, “Wow, you surprise me, Freckles.”

  I bite my lip. “I guess I’m not the good girl you thought I was.” I free him from his boxers and he’s everything I remember and more. He pulls at my hair and draws me closer in for a kiss. I push him away again, and turn from him. “Just fucking,” I remind him as I press my palms on the tower o
f stacked cases. He presses himself against me, his erection pushed up against my ass. I want this so much, I can’t stand it. “Take me right here, like you wanted…” I breathe.

  He presses his mouth on my shoulder. “I can’t… not here.”

  I jerk around. “What?!” I’m not letting him do this to me again. No way in hell.

  He smiles and presses a hand against the door. “This door only locks from the outside. Do you really want your mom to walk in on us again?”

  I’m so fucking turned on, I don’t care.

  I’m brought back to that cold winter night, ages ago. I was completely naked on my bed, and his head was between my legs. He was shirtless but still had his jeans on. We got carried away, and I didn’t have a lock on my door. He was pleasuring me orally for the first time. He’d told me I would like it when I first objected, and I did. I loved it. It was amazing. Until…

  Momma walked in on us.

  I cringe every time I think about it.

  I bite my lip. “You’re right.” I reach down for my crumpled panties on the floor.

  “Wait a second,” he says and pulls me back to him. “We’re not done. There’s no way I’m not fucking you right now. I don’t care if the whole town is standing outside that door.”

  “But…”

  He swings me around and bends me over the old chest freezer by the door. “Right here is perfect,” he groans. “I can reach the door from here.”

  I jerk my head around. He has a hand flat on the door, and the other one is on my ass. I melt into him as he hikes up my flowy cotton skirt over my back.

  He strokes me softly. “Fuck, I love your ass.” He bends down and takes a soft bite. I jolt, stunned. He slides a finger between my legs and it feels like heaven. I close my eyes, never wanting this feeling to end. Peter has never made me feel quite this way. Not once in the seven years we shared.

  One time, I said. I’ll want more. I already know this.

  “You’re so fucking wet,” he growls. “I’m going to ask you this once, and only once because I want to make sure this is really what you want.” He leans into me, and his weight crushes me against the freezer. His hot mouth is on my ear. “You want me to fuck you, Freckles? Like this?”

  “Y-yes…” I moan, and I hate myself for sounding so pathetic, for wanting him so much.

  He toys with the condom and a few long seconds later, he runs a finger along my sex again. I arch my back and press my rear against his hand. “Eager girl,” he breathes. “You be patient.”

  He presses his mouth against the back of my head and sinks into me very slowly. I’m surprised by the gentleness with which he takes me. “Is this okay?” he whispers.

  “Yes…” I breathe. He feels so damn good. Why does he feel so damn good? I’ll want this again, I just know it.

  My hands claw at the edge of the old freezer. He presses his mouth against my ear. “Do you want to take a picture? I’m sure this would drive Parker insane with jealousy.”

  I bite down a laugh and squeeze my eyes shut as he pushes harder into me. Every thrust brings me closer. One hand still pressed on the door, he brings his other one to my sex. The sensation of clitoral stimulation mixed with him inside me drives me wild. I close my eyes and get lost in it. There’s nothing in the world but the both of us. As I reach my climax, my moans are muffled into my forearm. He pushes harder into me, hard enough for my ribs to feel it. One or two hard pushes, and a soft groan escapes him as he reaches his own release.

  He leans into me once more and presses his mouth on my shoulder. “I can’t believe I’ve finally had you,” he says. “You’re everything I imagined.”

  I smile and pull from his hold. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” I say, determined to not let him see just how much he rocked my world. I reach for my crumpled panties on the floor, and slip them on over my shoes. When I turn around, his fly is done up, and he looks just as he did before, but satisfied.

  “You sure you don’t want to do that again someday?” he teases, a hand still on the door.

  “Positive,” I lie. Of course I want to do this again. That was probably the best orgasm I’ve ever had.

  “Okay, listen…” he says. “I’ll leave first. I’ll grab a case of Pepsi, and just act casual as I walk out… just another day at the office.”

  I smile.

  “And you wait about a minute to leave.” He scratches at his stubble. “And do something with your hair. You look thoroughly fucked. You’re a dead-giveaway.”

  I smile. “Will do.” I press down the folds of my skirt and run a hand through my long locks.

  “Okay, see ya.” He gives me a quick wave, and he’s out the door.

  I reach for my purse and trash mag, and ready myself for my walk of shame.

  “Where in the heavens have you been,” Momma asks, her nose buried in a paperback Harlequin. “I almost sent a search party out to look for you.”

  I smile nervously – can she tell? Thankfully, she seems pretty engrossed in her book. “I kind of got lost in the celebrity gossip. Sorry.”

  “No worries,” she says as another customer walks in. She cocks a brow when she finally looks at me. “You look different…” she says.

  Oh no… busted.

  “You look flushed,” she says. “You sure you’re not coming down with something? It’s that time of year… did you get your flu shot yet?”

  I bite my lip. “No.”

  She shakes her head. “Well, you better get on that,” she says and turns to our customer.

  I smile – the woman doesn’t have a clue.

  18

  THESE VIOLENT DELIGHTS have violent ends. And in their triumph die, like fire and powder. Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey. – William Shakespeare – Romeo and Juliet

  Dear Journal,

  Remember all those long journal entries about my virginity? So much ink wasted on the subject. Will we? Or won’t we? Am I ready? Or should I wait?

  I was sure Blake would be my first. I was so in love. He was my first love, and I couldn’t imagine ever liking someone else as much as I liked him. Such is teenage passion, I guess.

  My first time was fine. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great. I’d heard from friends that it can hurt the first time, and it did, a little. To be fair to Peter, the first time is never fireworks for a woman. He was a very sweet and gentle lover, and the night itself was amazing.

  I’ve never told you about that night. I’m not sure why I didn’t feel the need to share with you. I suppose I was pretty busy at the time, with school projects and exams, and frat parties. You and I barely had a relationship during those years.

  Peter did everything right. He got us a romantic room in a quaint Bed & Breakfast. We had a romantic dinner and shared a bottle of red wine. I was a little tipsy, very relaxed. We came together in the big fluffy romantic bed, and he undressed me slowly, kissing every inch of my body. He made me feel loved and desired. He didn’t bring me to orgasm with penetration and I hadn’t expected him to. Shortly after, he touched me and made me come. We cuddled and watched an episode of Friends.

  It was perfect.

  But it was nothing like my first time with Blake.

  Yes, Blake and I finally made love. After all these years. Well, I can’t quite say we ‘made love’. We fucked. And it was mind-blowing.

  Peter is like a cup of my favorite tea; nice and sweet, hits the spot, something I look forward to. Blake is like heroin. Addictive, filthy, bad. Something I wish I didn’t crave. I’ve never done heroin but I’ve seen the movie Trainspotting. Blake Taylor is my heroin.

  It was nothing like I’d imagined my first time with Blake would be. I’d always thought it would be in my fluffy pink bed, and soft and slow. Instead, it took place in a dark storage room, surrounded by store merchandise. I was bent over an old rusty freezer, and taken from behind, brought to climax while Momma was sitting not far away, reading a trashy novel.

  I loved every single second of it.

>   And now I want more. I wish I didn’t. I wish I didn’t crave him like a drug. I want him inside me again. It’s all I can think about. I should have never gone there. I should have known he’d have this effect on me. I should have known I wouldn’t want just one hit. He’s all I’ve thought about for the past twenty-four hours. I wonder if he’s thinking about me. That kind of wild wanton sex is probably something he gets every week, a different tramp every time, I’m sure.

  We did use protection. I wasn’t that foolish. I’m still on the pill but I know that Blake is a player – I didn’t want to take any chances.

  Should I just ignore him, go home in two days, and forget all about him? I’m sure once I’m back home, he won’t consume my every thought.

  Or should I have another hit or two? Just once or twice more. Enjoy him, and then go home and forget all about him.

  I’ve already gone there. What’s once or twice more?

  But no. Absolutely not.

  All I need to do is to steer clear of the man. I’m only here for two more days.

  Easy-peasy.

  Later, Journal.

  M

  I fall into his arms in one fell swoop. I’ve missed him so much. He hugs me tightly, too tightly.

  “You’re crushing me,” I mumble into his large chest. He’s so much bigger than me. It wasn’t always the case, but he now towers over me.

  He pulls away with a wide grin. “Sorry, Sis.”

  “It’s so nice to see you, Tim.” My eyes are brimming with tears. “I’m sorry I don’t come over more often.”

  He shrugs. “It’s okay… you’re busy.” He hasn’t changed at all; still handsome as always, and quiet and soft spoken. He’s the only one who inherited our dad’s light green eyes. They’re striking against his dark complexion – he’s the kind of man who doesn’t go unnoticed when he goes out, but he rarely goes out, a true recluse like our father was.

  “Still holed up in the garage all the time?” I ask.

  He smiles. “Well, someone’s gotta fix those cars.”