Page 142 of The Way I Hate Him
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“I’d like to,” he says, sincerity ringing through his tone. “That’s not something you should do alone, and if you haven’t noticed, I have some experience fixing rooms.”
I chuckle. “Is that going to be something on your résumé now?”
“Might as well add it.” He smiles and then brings his hands to my thighs. He rubs his palms along my skin. “So would I be able to take you out on a date sometime?”
“I think we can arrange that.”
“Yeah?”
I nod. “Yeah. As Ryland said, I need some fun in my life.”
“I can provide the fun. I can provide whatever you want.”
I tug on the collar of his shirt playfully. “So all those times you turned me down, it really was because of Ryland?”
“Yes, Hattie. Trust me, I was fucking burning for you.”
My smile grows wider. “Oh my God, wait until I tell Maggie that. She’s going to be so jealous.”
He laughs and then brings me down on the couch so my back is on the leather, and I’m staring up at him. He pushes a strand of hair out of my face as he lightly presses another kiss to my lips. “I will say this. We’re not working on that bedroom until you clean up my fucking living room. The papers are making my skin itch.”
“Why didn’t you clean them yourself?”
“You made the mess,” he says, his nose sliding up the column of my neck, the feel of him so close, making my nipples hard. “You clean it up yourself.”
“Where’s the chivalry in that?”
“No chivalry when I was paying you to do a job. A job you didn’t finish.”
“Because my boss was a maniac, demanding coffee at seven in the morning.”
He kisses my jaw, my cheek, my nose. “A task you never completed correctly.”
“Should have fired me then,” I say as I bring my hand up to his face, in disbelief that this is happening right now. That I’m allowed to touch him, kiss him, feel him without guilt swarming me.
“And miss out on being able to see your fuckable ass in those bike shorts every day?”
My eyes widen. “Fuckable ass?”
He smirks and then pushes off me. “I have a lot to teach you, Hattie.”
Oh dear God.
* * *
“Tell me how this is fair?”Hayes asks as he digs into the sack of fan mail and places them in front of us. “This is your job.”
“But isn’t it more fun when we do it together?”
“No,” he deadpans, causing me to laugh. “I prefer to watch you do it.”
“These are your fans, Hayes.” I pull out a letter and another naked picture falls out, this one from one of his serial fans. The tenth naked picture from this particular lady. I flash him the picture. “You need to appreciate them.”
He swats the picture down. “You’re doing this just to torture me.”
“No, I think we should spend more time together, and if you happen to help me with this task while spending time with me, then it’s a win-win.”
