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“I know that you don’t want to be with a woman who hates you.”
She gasps quietly as I pull her down onto me again, fucking her slow and deep, my heart a steady constant in my heavy chest.
“You don’t hate me.” I kiss her neck, and she drops her head back, her throat constricting beneath my lips as she swallows.
“I do.” She whimpers as I ease back, then immediately pull her straight back down onto me. I curse softly as she stretches around me, taking every inch.
“We’re way past hate now, Mads.” I tilt my chin up, holding her eyes as she gazes back at me. “If this is hate, then I never need to fall in love.”
She cups my face in her hands. Her eyes shine in the dark as she searches mine like she’s trying to find answers.
Then she kisses me again.
She doesn’t stop kissing me until I come inside her, setting off her own orgasm. She holds my gaze and whispers my name between kisses. She kisses me through all of it, through everything, until I’m hard inside her once more and we start all over again.
We spend our last night together, hating each other over and over. And every time I kiss her, I swear I taste salt on my lips.
She’s wrong.
This is going to hurt like fuck.
It already does.
Chapter 20
Maddy
“Areyoulookingforwardto seeing your parents?”
I rest my head against the plush seat on Logan’s private jet while we wait to take off and turn to where he’s sitting next to me. He’s wearing a navy-blue suit today with brown Italian brogues and a green tie that matches his eyes. His light brown hair touches his collar where it’s grown longer during our trip.
He’s every inch Logan Rich, billionaire tycoon, leaning his elbows on his knees as he frowns at his laptop screen on the table in front of us.
The man I’ve looked at for years, but never really seen.
After last night, we both moved on autopilot, packing, and leaving the island, catching the boat to the mainland where Logan’s driver picked us up and brought us to the airport. Logan didn’t kiss me again. He didn’t force me to talk about what happened last night. To acknowledge the tenderness that crept between us. It feels like the blues at the end of a wonderful holiday. When you realize it’s time to step back into reality.
That’s all this is, this blue, sinking feeling in my stomach as I watched him effortlessly slip back into work mode when we boarded his jet. It’s a blip. A tinge of bittersweetness that real life starts again today. I’ve spent weeks in one of the most beautiful countries on earth with a man I hated with every fiber of my being when we left London. And who I’m returning home being, not friends exactly, not… well, not anything. But not hating either.
My hate for Logan Rich stayed in Italy when I packed my suitcase this morning. When I packed the program from the opera, the green gown, the silk lingerie, and the monogrammed slippers. And in its place, there’s an acceptance. I may never forget all those years I felt miserable and blamed Logan for. But I see now that it wasn’t as black and white as I thought. He made mistakes. But he isn’t cruel on purpose. All the times I’ve shouted at him, screamed that I hate him, he’s never said it back once. He’s never told me I had no right to feel the way I felt. He didn’t dismiss it.
He apologized.
If this trip taught me something, then it’s that Logan Rich isn’t afraid to admit when he’s wrong. And if he can do it, then I owe it to him to try too.
He glances at me with a smile. “I’m looking forward to seeing Dad now that he won’t be talking about weddings.”
“You two are close, aren’t you?”
His smile widens, and he chuckles, looking back at his laptop. “When he isn’t coming up with wild ideas, yeah.”
I turn to look out of the window at the morning sun on the airstrip. I never saw Logan talking to his dad on this trip. His mum twice, but never his dad. Drew said they usually talk multiple times a day.
“Well, I hope you sort it all out. He’s just acting out of misplaced love. It’s what dads do.”
“If only that were true in every case,” he mumbles.
I look back at him with a frown but don’t ask what he means. Now isn’t the time to get into a heavy conversation with him. It’sneverthe time to get into a heavy conversation with him. It only makes things more complicated when they don’t need to be. Like me, him, and this trip. It was a release from years of built-up hatred, culminating in sex. That’s all.
