Page 92 of Hate To Love You


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I don’t know Masey and I don’t know Thom, but I’m pretty sure I know who the asshole is in this scenario. “I’m sure it’s not.”

Ninety-nine times out of a hundred when some guy tells a girl that she sucks in the sack, it’s not her issue. But Thom is probably one of those without a self-reflective bone in his body and he can’t see how he contributed to their lackluster sex life. I’m not expecting Masey to be the best lay ever. But I doubt she actually needs more than a few orgasms and a confidence boost.

“Even so, she wants to know what she could be doing better.”

If Masey is looking for pointers, that’s easy enough. “No problem. Anything else?”

“There’s a guy back home, apparently. Her hot neighbor. He asked her out right before she left home, and they plan to get together when she returns. Not that she thinks they’ll hop into the sack right away, but…better to be prepared, you know. Other than that?” Harlow shakes her head. “She’s not looking for more than a good time tonight, so don’t worry she’ll turn into a clinging vine.”

Somehow, Harlow’s assurance makes me even more uncomfortable. But she’s merely asking me to help a friend in need, so I let it go. “Got it.”

“Great. Just…be nice. I know you will. But she’s been through a lot with Thom. Even though she’s glued herself back together, she’s more fragile than she lets on.”

It’s not a problem since I’m not usually an asshole. “Absolutely.”

“I appreciate you doing this. If you’ll send her off in the morning with a loopy grin, I’ll be eternally grateful.”

“One loopy grin, coming right up,” I reassure her. “If you’d like, I’ll make sure she’s bow-legged, too.”

Harlow flashes me a megawatt smile. “That would be great! I knew there was a reason you’re my favorite brother-in-law.”

“I’m your only brother-in-law.”

“Details.” She gives me a playful wave of her hand. “Anyway, she wanted me to assure you that if you don’t find her attractive, there won’t be any hard feelings. Buy her a drink and tell her you’re busy tonight after all. Just do it gently.”

At this point, I can’t picture that. Masey sounds like she needs TLC, and my sudden misgivings aside, I need to get laid after a five-month dry spell. It’s not a match made in heaven, but we can make it work for a night. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem. I’m assuming that if she doesn’t find me attractive, she’ll let me down easy, too?”

“Sure.” Harlow shakes her head. “But that won’t be an issue.”

“Why do you say that?”

She leans in with a conspiratorial whisper. “I showed her your picture. I think I had to wipe the drool off her chin.”

“Well, at least she has good taste,” I quip. “Got one of her? I haven’t seen—”

A woman walks into my line of vision, a mere dozen feet away. Instantly, she ends my speech, stops my heart, and makes my dick jerk like a divining rod in her direction. She’s got reddish-brown curls that sway around her shoulders, a delicate profile, lush lashes that fan the palest porcelain cheeks, a red bow of a mouth that nearly has me crying for relief, and curves for days under her clinging, va-voom red dress.

“Holy shit,” I mutter.

Harlow turns and follows my line of vision. When her gaze lands on the brunette, she flashes a smile. “Masey!”

ABOUT SEDUCING THE ENEMY

Just how far will he go to take his pound of flesh from her?

I’m Jett, self-made billionaire.

I’ve achieved everything I’ve ever set my mind to—except revenge.

Eight years ago, my best friend stole my multimillion dollar idea…

After I fell for his little sister.

He made a fortune.

And she stabbed me in the back.

Now he’s in financial straits, while I’m richer than I ever dreamed.

So I made Whitney a bargain: forty million dollars in exchange for a week of her body.

But now that she’s in my bed, animosity may not be all I’m feeling…

Enjoy this Forbidden Confession. HEA guaranteed!

CHAPTER ONE

Dallas

4 p.m.

Jett

She’s late.

Maybe she’s not coming, asshole.

That’s a distinct possibility.

What did you expect? You’re the enemy.

I am, and she’s too smart not to realize I’m springing a trap. She also knows I’m powerful enough to destroy her and all she holds dear.

But I’d rather not. Does she know that, too?

I shove the thought away. What’s in Whitney Chancellor’s mind—and heart—now shouldn’t matter. She made a choice, and I’m going to make her regret it.

You made a choice, too. And she probably hates your fucking guts for it.

But that doesn’t change anything. If she doesn’t show today, I’ll keep coming at her. I have ways to bend her to my will.

She will give me what I want.

I tap an impatient thumb on the charred wood of the handscraped bar. The faux-rustic room is designed to be a “laid-back” watering hole, but since it sits in the middle of a horribly pretentious hotel in an exclusive, five-star part of town, I’m calling bullshit.

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