Page 98 of HateMates


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My stomach lets out another growl. “I know, I know. A s’more would be great right about now.” So would the warmth of Tate’s arms. The rumble of his laughter against my chest. What I wouldn’t do to rewind time and not turn on that stupid phone.

He was right. I was a liability. If I’d just listened to him, I wouldn’t be in this position. Does he know I’m missing? That I never made it home? Does he care? Or was he told I was having wild sex with Vince and now hates me even more?

I moan and shift to my side. What if no one comes looking for me? I’m already dead to Harry for blowing off work. Fay…Fay wouldn’t take my silence. She would ask questions. Search for me just so she could kick my ass for being MIA this close to her wedding. I can already picture her kicking Tate’s ass for losing me.

I roll over, taking a sharp breath. Resting on the nightstand is a fresh bouquet of roses. I shoot into a sitting position. He was in here? How? Did I fall asleep? Was I so lost in my thoughts that I blocked out his presence? Chills creep up my arms. God, was he watching me? Did he do anything? I scan my body. My clothes don’t look out of place.

I grab the vase, ready to toss it against the wall but stop. I won’t make the same mistake twice. I quickly gather the stems, ignoring the thorns stabbing into my fingers, and lift them from the glass. Tipping the vase to my mouth, I can’t guzzle the water down fast enough. The wetness soothing my throat is heaven.

When I finish, I drop the flowers back in. Fuck, that was good. My eyes land on the window, and another brilliant idea comes to mind. If I can throw the vase hard enough, it may break the window. Maybe someone will hear my screams for help. Without further thought, I climb off the bed but sway forward, losing my balance. I stumble into the nightstand, hissing as the sharp corner stabs into my side, and crash to the floor. “What the hell?” I try to sit up, but everything spins around me. My hands smack against the floor as another wave of dizziness swarms me.

I blink, trying to focus. A dark shadow looms over me, and I look up, barely able to make out Vince. “What… did you… do?”

“I told you, love. You drink when you earn it. You failed.”

“You… you… drugged me again?”

No, no, no. I can’t—I can’t be unconscious around him. “Vince…” I try to sit up again but slouch onto the floor.

“Lessons, Mindy. Learn from them.”

Everything fades to black.

***

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m an amusement park and you want to sit on my lap for a ride.”

I choke on my coffee. “Wow, a bit full of yourself, don’t you think?”

He cocks his head my way, his sexy grin in place, giving me a glorious view of his mug that reads, “May contain tequila.”

“Wanna make a bet?”

“That I have zero interest in a ride? Sure. Be prepared to lose.”

“I bet you don’t last thirty seconds before you’re riding my cock.”

“Pfft,” I let out, pushing down the excitement of doing just that. “Start the clock, big guy.”

The corner of his mouth curls, and I internally scold myself to stay still. With a predatorial slowness, he leans forward and places his mug on the coffee table. When he pulls back, he loosens his belt and pulls down his zipper. I start reciting all the president’s names in my head so I don’t look down, only getting through the three I remember before my mouth goes dry at his already hard cock.

Dammit.

I should have rethought this bet. I never stood a chance.

He lifts me with ease, and I go willingly. My legs straddle his thick thighs, and with a simple push of my thin panties, he slides inside me. “Start bouncing, babe. Ride starts now.”

Wasting a good, hot cup of Joe is a sin, but I discard it, needing both hands to hold on to the back of the couch to lift myself and slide back down his now slick shaft. “That’s it. Give yourself what you want.”

I’ll get him later for calling me out. Right now, him filling every inch of me, hitting the deepest part of me, is what I want. I rise and fall, high off how he makes me feel. “This would be much more enjoyable if you stopped talking,” I moan, my eyes fluttering closed as he jerks his hips forward.

“Don’t lie to yourself. You love my voice when I’m fucking you.” God, just the sound is turning my nipples into stones.

“I know you do. You admitted it while screaming my name in the shower earlier. If you’re a good little girl, I’ll eat you out while I hum dirty things against your sweet cunt.”

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