I Hate You (Waylon University, #3)

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

“I’m not your type, remember?” He never moves his gaze from me. “You were fire in my hands.” My heart clenches. “Don’t say things like that. You don’t mean them!”

Ugh. He’s a sparkly, sexy unicorn. And everyone wants to ride him.

Great. I look down at my paper and decide it’s time to start not caring about this shit.

How can a dude look hot chewing on a stupid piece of gum? I

She smiles and…I think…I think I’d do anything to keep that smile there.

I’ll go first. Mine is lying side by side, looking in her eyes while I fuck her real slow. Her leg is hitched around my hip and my hands are on her ass, doing all the work. She’s saying my name. And when I kiss her ON HER MOUTH, she comes, her pussy squeezing my dick until I can’t resist and come with her.

I have feelings for her, scary fucking feelings that keep me awake at night. Like wanting to burn shit down to make her happy. Like being willing to walk across scorching hot coals just to hold her in my arms. I just need to…forget her.

club. My hair is in beach waves, flowing down the back of the open dress, and there’s a slit on the side that goes up to my bare upper thighs. Basically, I’m freezing my ass off.