The Way I Hate Him (Almond Bay, #1)

by Meghan Quinn

“Maybe you’ll stop lying to me . . . to yourself.”

“You smell like electric sunshine.” “Electric sunshine?”

“Radiance with a zing, like soft summer meadows zapped by lightning. Like a sweet combination of fire and rain. Soft and edgy. Bright and dark all in one.”

“How many women have you said that to?”

say, “None. That was for you and you alone.”

“You should go back to bed.” “Why’s that?” she asks. “It’s not safe for you out here.” “Maybe I don’t want safe.”

“Or maybe I want to do something dangerous for once.”

“I’m trouble,” I say. “Good,” she replies

“Are you wearing anything under my sweatshirt, Hattie?” She shakes her head. “I’m not.”

“You planned this, didn’t you? Putting on my sweatshirt, knowing it would make me feel possessive, not wearing anything under it because it would make me feel unhinged. This was all thought out so you could manipulate your way into my goddamn bed.” “I thought you didn’t want me in your bed.”

“You know goddamn well that was a lie.”

“You’re so hard.” She wiggles her butt against me, turning me on even more.

“Don’t do that,” I say, keeping her hips still. For the love of God, don’t do that. “Afraid you might fuck me?” “Afraid I might destroy you,”

“Tell me to stop,” I whisper. “No,” she says. “No, I want this. Please don’t stop.”

And when she stares up at me, I feel this demanding need to crash my mouth against hers. To claim her.

Mark her.

“If I allowed myself to touch you, you’d beg too.” “I don’t beg . . . ever,” I say.

“Sixty seconds. We see who moans first in sixty seconds, point proven.”

“You want to try to turn each other on in sixty seconds to prove a goddamn point?”

“Yeah,” she says, a smile on her lips. “Scared?” “No, worried about you, though. You wo...

“Do you feel that?” I press her in even closer. “Do you feel what you did to me?” “Y-yes,”

“I could use your help with oiling his skin.” “Oi-oiling?”

I hate him so much for being that attractive. I hate him for bringing me into his life because I was doing fine without him. I hate he won’t even look at me the way I wish he would.

And I hate that even though he’s broken me a few times, I still very much want him. Especially at this moment.

He’s made me desperate for him.

“Don’t do that,”

“Do what?” “Bite the corner of your mouth like that.”

“I wasn’t doing it on purpose.” “Well, don’t.”

“Because it’s hot.”

I’ve become hopelessly attached to this man, something I truly didn’t expect.

“It was a job,” he says softly as a tear rolls down my cheek. He wipes it away from my cheek and repeats, “That’s all it was, Hattie. It was a job.” “I know,” I say. “Then why are you crying?”

“You don’t care about me, Hayes. So please don’t pretend that you do.” “That’s where you’re wrong. I care about you more than I should.” “Stop.”

“She tried to make a move, but I stopped it . . . because of you.”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you, Hattie.”

“I can’t do this. I can’t be the asshole you want me to be. Not when . . . not when I...

“Just . . . stop. I can’t do this, Hayes. I can’t hear you say things like that, but turn me down and grope another woman right...

“What do you want me to say, Hattie? That I got an erection while on camera? Yes, I did. I got fucking hard, but only because the entire time, I was picturing you under me, not her.”

“Because you’d lose that relationship with your brother, with your sister, and I’m going to tell you right now, Hattie, I’m not fucking worth it.”

“What if . . . what if I think you’re worth it?”

“If I gave myself the opportunity to give you what you wanted, what I want, I’d dismantle every thought you ever had of being with a man. I’d break you. Then I’d slowly worship every inch of your heavenly body until you realized that no other man will ever give you the unequivocal pleasure I’ll give you. There’d be no going back for you.”

“And despite desperately wanting to bury my dick so far between your legs, I won’t. I won’t fucking break you. Because, Hattie, it would fucking break me too.”

“I fucking do, Hattie.” His voice grows soft. “I care far too much about you than I should.” “Is that why you dedicated your song to me tonight?” “Yes,”

“I am. Trust me, if circumstances were different, you wouldn’t be frustrated with me.” “What would I be?” I ask. His voice grows dark as he says, “You’d be full of me.”

“How full?”

“Fuller than you’ve ever been, that’s for damn sure.” “Show me,”

“You know I can’t, Hattie. I can’t cross that line.” “B...

I don’t want his guilt. I want him. All of him. His hands. His kisses. His heart.

“I don’t want you to be here for me. I don’t want you near me, not when . . . not when I can’t have you.”

“Trust me, Hattie, you have me in every fucking way. Whether you want to believe it or not.”

“Fuck . . . I like you, Hattie.”