Hate to Love You

by Jennifer Sucevic

  I’d like nothing better than to hustle her sweet little ass out of here.

  What am I going to do when it’s time for this farce to end?

  The possibility that our relationship could shift back to the kind of interaction we used to have scares the crap out of me. I like where we are, what’s slowly developing between us. I’ll fully admit to taking advantage of the situation with Reed. I saw a way in, and I took it. Can’t blame a guy for going after what he wants.

  And I wanted Natalie.

  Only now do I realize just how much I want to keep her.

  Every time I see that girl, I find myself holding my breath, waiting for her to pull the plug on this fake relationship.

  I can’t allow that to happen. I have to figure out something fast otherwise she’ll cut me loose and move on without so much as batting her eyelashes. Natalie isn’t like any girl I’ve ever met. She intrigues the hell out of me. She challenges me at every turn.

  And fuck…she’s so smart. God, that’s sexy. She doesn’t give a crap about all the meaningless social bullshit. She doesn’t get wrapped up in it like most of the girls I know.

  I lean down and whisper in her ear, “You ready to get out of here?”

  I don’t care where we go or what we do, but I’m done sharing for the evening. I want Natalie to myself.

  She glances up, and our gazes collide. Her eyes are bright and shiny. She looks happy and relaxed. The way her lips curve…Something undefinable shoots through me, punching me right in the gut, nearly knocking the breath from my lungs.

  “Yeah, let’s go.”

  Has she ever looked at me like that?

  It’s addictive. There’s not much I wouldn’t do to have her stare at me like that every damn day.

  Those thoughts filtering through my brain are the precise moment when I realize I’m in deep with this girl. Acknowledging those feelings should terrify me. Oddly enough, it doesn’t. It feels right. As if something has fallen into place.

  The ride back to her apartment is a quiet one. I have no idea how to go about winning Natalie over. For the first time in my life, I don’t have a game plan in mind. I’m flying by the seat of my pants. And it’s scary as fuck.

  Once I turn into her building’s lot, I park the truck and cut the engine.

  She turns toward me. “Are you coming up?”

  “Yeah. But only for a few minutes.” With the way I feel, it’s probably not a good idea for me to stay. I want this girl too much. I can’t remember when I’ve wanted someone more.

  It only takes a few minutes until we’re inside her apartment. She hangs up her jacket and lays her purse on a small table by the door.

  “Want something to drink?” she asks, heading to the kitchen and filling up a glass of water. She downs half of it.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen Natalie have more than a drink. Maybe two. Tonight, she’s had two or three shots and just as many drinks. She’s not drunk, but she’s definitely buzzed. Maybe a little more than that. Wherever that happy place is between the two, that’s where Natalie is hanging.

  I’m happy that I could make her birthday a good one. Especially considering that it’s the first one since the divorce.

  I settle on the couch and watch as she kicks off her heels and runs her fingers through the long strands of her hair. Her dark waves tumble around her shoulders. There’s a glint in her eyes as a smile curves her lips. Her hips sway as she walks toward me. I’m mesmerized by the sight of her.

  “I had a great time.” Placing her hands on my shoulders, she straddles my lap. “Thank you for dinner. For everything. You have no idea what it means to me.”

  Our faces are scant inches apart. My breath catches, becoming trapped in my lungs. For the first time in my life, I have to think about releasing the air from my body and sucking it back in again. It’s just as scary as it is exhilarating.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She leans forward and presses her lips against mine. A sizzle of electricity zips through me at the contact. I want to grab hold of Natalie with both hands and never let go, but I have no idea if she wants me the same way. I’m afraid she likes the way I make her feel but she doesn’t actually like me. All I can hope is that what I’m feeling isn’t totally one-sided, that she feels the chemistry and the growing feelings and friendship, as well.

  It doesn’t escape me that this is the first time Natalie has initiated physical contact between us. It takes everything I have inside not to haul her body against mine. Not to run my hands greedily over every inch of her.

  But I don’t.

  I want her to set and control the pace.

  The kiss that unfolds between us is deliberate and measured. She takes her time nibbling at my mouth. Sucking on the top and then the bottom. Pressing kisses against the corners. Her arms twine around my neck, pulling me closer.

  When her tongue licks at the seam of my lips, I open. Her fingers tunnel through my hair, tugging at the strands. There must be an invisible thread running from my hair to my dick. Every time she tugs, my cock twitches in response.

  Her tongue strokes mine before she draws it into her mouth. The urge to flip her over and take what I want pounds through me until it’s all I can think about.

  Natalie sits back and searches my eyes, the glassiness shining brightly in hers. “I want to sleep with you, Brody.”

  Hearing those words fall from her lips makes my cock stiffen. If I was hard before, I’m like steel now.

  Her hands are still tangled in my hair. I feel the pull of it against my scalp.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I groan, unable to believe I’m turning her down.

  Her brows beetle together. “Why?”

  “Because you’ve had too much to drink.” I stroke my fingers over her cheek. “I don’t want you having regrets in the morning.”

  Given the way I feel, I don’t think I could deal with that.

  She purses her lips. It’s the most adorable thing ever.

  Christ…What’s this chick doing to me?

  “Will you at least stay the night?”

  Sleep in a bed next to her, but somehow resist the temptation of her body? I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do that. I’ve spent many years indulging my urges by gorging on women and booze. Whatever pleasure I wanted, I took.

  “Please?”

  “Okay,” I grind out against my better judgment. “I’ll stay.” Even though it’s a lousy idea, I’m unable to deny her what she wants. “But we’re not having sex,” I reiterate firmly.

  Not in a million years did I ever think those words would come out of my mouth.

  Looking pleased, she hops off my lap and holds out her hand. I slip my fingers into hers, and she tugs me to my feet before towing me to her room.

  A queen-sized bed with a turquoise comforter takes up most of the square footage. A mirrored nightstand sits next to it and a matching dresser is shoved against the far wall. There’s a framed picture of Natalie and her parents on the nightstand. She looks like she’s just a kid in it.

  Everything in here is neat and more girly than I would have expected. Is it possible that under Natalie’s hard candy shell lies a soft nougat filling?

  It’s an interesting concept.

  I pick up the silver-framed picture of her and her parents. This is the first time I’m seeing a photograph of her father. When I’d met Karen, I’d thought Natalie bore a striking resemblance to her, but now I see that she also looks a lot like her father. They both have the same dark hair and eyes. She’s a perfect mix of the two.

  “Did your dad call to wish you a happy birthday?” I ask out of curiosity.

  The lazy smile falters from her lips as a cloud passes over her eyes. “He texted when I didn’t pick up his call.”

  “Are you going to talk to him anytime soon? Try working things out?” I know she was pissed after the night at the restaurant. What I feel for Natalie isn’t just physical. I wa
nt her to open up and let me in.

  Which is yet another first for me. I’ve never made an effort to know a girl. Sex was all I was looking for. The women were interchangeable. There’s been more than a few times that I’ve been buried balls-deep in a chick and couldn’t remember her name.

  I’m not proud of it. But whatever is happening with Natalie is different. It’s light-years away from some nameless one-night stand where I’m just dipping my wick and blowing my wad.

  Natalie shrugs. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  She fingers the hem of her sweater. In one swift movement, she yanks it over her head and tosses it to the floor, standing in front of me in a silky black bra with white cherries printed on it. My mouth dries as I greedily take her in.

  That bra…

  It’s entirely possible my tongue is hanging out of my mouth and I’m drooling.

  Racking my brain, I try to pick up the thread of our conversation. Right…Her dad. “Maybe you need to give him another chance to make things right.” The more I stare at her, the harder it becomes to concentrate on the discussion I’m forcing us to have.

  Her fingers hover over the waistband of her jeans before slipping the metal disk from its hole and pushing the material down her hips and thighs. She bends at the waist, and her long, wavy hair falls like a curtain around her as she removes the denim and her socks.

  I want to sift my fingers through all those soft strands and gather them up in my hands. It doesn’t take much effort to conjure up an image of Natalie on her knees, pouty lips wrapped around my thick cock.

  When she straightens, revealing skimpy panties that match the bra, I hiss out a breath.

  Motherfucker!

  I knew this wasn’t a good idea and I was right.

  She slips the thin black straps off her shoulders and asks, “Do you really want to continue talking about my dad?”

  Ummm…

  “No,” I mutter.

  “Good.” She reaches around and unhooks the bra. The material slides down her arms and falls away from her chest before dropping to the floor. “Because he’s the last thing I want to think about right now. Especially after having such an amazing night.”

  My eyes are fastened to her breasts. We’re talking utter perfection. Firm and perky with tiny, blush-colored nipples. My fingers ache to play with them.

  She slips her fingers under the elastic band of her panties and starts to slide them over her hips.

  “Leave them on!” I shout, breaking the silence.

  Her eyes widen, and her fingers freeze. “What?”

  My heart feels like it’s going to explode right out of my chest. “Leave them on,” I grind between clenched teeth.

  She cocks her head, her brows drawing together in confusion. “You don’t want me to take my underwear off?”

  I shove my hands into the back pockets of my jeans and shake my head. “Nope.” Fuck no. I’m barely keeping it together as it is.

  If she removes the thin scrap of material barring her sweet pussy from me, I’m done. Right now, I have the best intentions in the world. But if those are gone…all bets are off. There’s no way I’ll be able to resist her.

  This girl is my kryptonite. She always has been. I just never realized it until now.

  Natalie shrugs and turns toward the bed. My eyes drop to her barely-covered ass. I have to bite back a groan.

  I yank my T-shirt over my head and throw it to the floor before tearing my jeans from my body. When I’m in nothing more than a pair of black boxer briefs, Natalie’s eyes rove hungrily over the length of me and I feel my dick harden to the point of pain.

  “Not taking off your boxers?” she asks.

  They stay on no matter what.

  “Nope.” Much safer this way.

  Once we slide between the sheets, I pull Natalie into my arms. She rests her head on my chest. Her breasts are crushed against me. I push the hair away from her face as our legs tangle.

  Even though it feels like the tip of my dick is going to explode, a strange kind of contentment washes over me. This is the first time we’ve laid together in bed, but already I know it’s a feeling I’ll never get enough of.

  Natalie closes her eyes and sighs as if she’s just as happy as I am. “Tonight meant a lot to me. Thank you.”

  I sift my fingers through her hair. “You’re welcome.”

  I’ve never cared enough about someone else to want to make them happy. The way Natalie looked at me tonight with light shining in her eyes…I want more of it.

  I want her to always look at me like that.

  Now I just have to figure out a way to make it happen.

  Should be easy enough, right?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Natalie

  My first realization as I drift into consciousness is that I’m not alone. I’m plastered against a warm body. With my eyes closed, I trail my fingers over a muscular chest and tight, washboard abs. I crack an eye open. It’s still early. The sun is just starting to stretch its fingers across the eastern horizon.

  Brody and I are so tangled together that I’m not sure where he begins and I end. My head rests against his chest. The steady rise and fall of it soothes me. The rhythm could easily lull me back to sleep if I let it. Instead of allowing that to happen, I lift my head and glimpse his stubble-covered jawline. A bolt of awareness shoots through me and explodes in my core.

  One look.

  That’s all it takes to send lust and need careening through my system.

  At every turn, he surprises me. I’ve always taken Brody for a manwhore, and yet I’d offered myself up on a silver platter last night and he refused to lay a finger on me. He wouldn’t allow me to take off my panties. He did nothing more than hold me in his arms the entire night.

  And I’ve never slept better.

  I feel like I’ve spent the last couple of years protecting myself. Building walls and keeping people out. Reed may have bruised my ego, but he didn’t break my heart. After last night and the surprise birthday dinner Brody planned…I think I’m falling for him. My heart clenches as that thought flashes through my brain.

  How can this be happening?

  Sitting up, I study him more carefully. This is really the first opportunity I’ve had to look my fill. If he caught me staring like this, I’d never hear the end of it. Brody has a massive ego. I’m surprised he’s able to stand upright with it.

  It’s not that I didn’t realize Brody was good looking before—you’d have to be blind not to notice how smoking-hot he is—but he’s even more so than I allowed myself to acknowledge. A mop of tawny hair streaked with gold brushes his broad shoulders. Heavy eyebrows arch across a strong forehead. And thick eyelashes feather against chiseled cheekbones that flank a long, straight nose and full, kissable lips.

  And those dimples.

  Don’t even get me started on them. They’re nowhere in sight at the moment, but every time he grins, my panties melt.

  I’m beginning to suspect that all the dislike I’d harbored for him was really lust and longing masquerading as aversion. I’d convinced myself that Brody was nothing more than a dumb jock coasting through college, screwing his way through the female population at Whitmore while helping to bring home three National Championships.

  I never bothered to scratch beneath the surface. And now that I have, I realize there’s so much more to Brody than I allowed myself to believe.

  More shocking than that, I actually like the man I’m discovering him to be.

  I blink as that thought resonates through my brain.

  What am I supposed to do about this?

  It’s not like this is a real relationship. Brody did me a favor by protecting me from Reed and the ugliness he’d hurtled at me. At some point, this farce will end and we’ll go our separate ways. Our relationship will revert back to what it was before this started.

  Is that what I want?

  I…don’t know. I’m not sure about anything anymore.

  But what I d
o know is that I want him.

  I stare at my hand as it rests against the hard ridges of his abdominals. He’s touched me. Several times, in fact…Hello, library. But I haven’t dared to do the same. I’ve held back. But I’m done doing that.

  Isn’t it about time I explore his body just as thoroughly as he’s explored mine?

  My belly trembles in anticipation.

  I slide my hand lower, slipping it beneath the elastic band of his boxer briefs. My heart trips as I trail my fingers over the hot length of him. Already he’s hard. I guess the rumors are true—the man is definitely more than a handful. Gripping his cock, I slowly slide my palm over his thick shaft.

  Brody arches against me. A groan slides from his lips and his eyes jerk open, colliding with mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Brody

  I’m having the hottest freaking dream ever. We’re talking the stuff wet dreams are made of. Natalie is fisting my dick, pumping me slowly. My balls stir in response.

  Only…it’s not a dream. She really is stroking my cock.

  My eyes spring open, and I blink furiously, trying to focus. The first thing I see is Natalie leaning over me. The blankets have been pushed aside, and her hand is inside my boxers.

  “Morning.” An innocent smile curves her lips. “Sleep good?”

  Her tone is so fucking nonchalant. Like we’re just shooting the shit and her hand isn’t wrapped around my cock for the first time, making me impossibly hard.

  I blink a few more times, wondering if maybe I’m still dreaming. If so, this is the best dream I’ve had in a while. Unable to resist, I reach out and cup her warm breast. Her nipple pebbles in my hand. Goddamn, but I love her nipples.

  Nope, definitely not a dream.

  She leans over and presses her mouth against mine. I nip her bottom lip with my teeth and pull. If she keeps touching me like this, I’m going to blow my load. That’s not something I’ve done since high school. Sophomore year, to be exact. Before I got laid on a regular basis. I don’t even want to talk about how humiliating of an experience that was.