Page 179 of The Way I Hate Him
I rock up and down on him, my legs doing most of the work, the vibration still creating this afterglow of pleasure through my body as he tenses, the vibrator falling to his balls again. His chest tightens beneath me, his cock swells, and then he’s coming, his groan turning into a bite mark on my shoulder as he rides out his orgasm.
It takes a few seconds to come back to earth, but when we do, he switches off the vibrator and tosses it to the side before I drop my legs down, and he wraps his arms around my waist, just under my breasts.
“Fucking hell, Hattie,” he says while squeezing me tight. “I’ll never get enough of your pussy. Never.”
I rest my head against his shoulder, and I’m about to tell him I’ll never get enough of his cock when there’s a knock on my door.
Oh shit.
What time is it?
“Hattie,” Aubree’s voice comes through the door. “I know you’re in there . . . everyone knows you’re in there.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper, forgetting a freaking business is below us.
My sister just heard us.
Customers probably heard us.
The town will soon know what I sound like when I come.
Feral.
Loud.
And out of control.
The freaking humiliation.
“Hattie,” Aubree calls again.
Cheeks heated from embarrassment, I lift from Hayes and rip the comforter off my bed as I walk to the door, feeling his cum start to drip down my leg, just the way he likes it. I wrap the blanket around me and part the door open a smidge.
Smiling nervously, I say, “Uh . . . hey, sis.”
Her expression is flat as she says, “I don’t care what you do in your private time, but during business hours, for the love of God, I don’t need the entertainment of your bedroom extracurricular activities. Got it?”
“Yup. Sorry about that. Lost, uh, track of time.”
“Well, you’re going to apologize to Ethel because she left the store with bright red cheeks and a horrified look on her face.”
Great. Out of all people to hear us, it had to be Ethel. Now the town will think we’re some sex sycophants.
Although, after the past twenty-four hours, maybe we are.
“Sorry,” I say again.
Aubree shakes her head and moves down the stairs without another word. When I shut the door, Hayes wraps his arms around me from behind, not the least bit apologetic.
“They heard us, Hayes.”
“So?” he asks, kissing my neck.
“So . . . people are going to think we’re sex fiends when they talk to Ethel. I mean, I screamed when I came. Actually screamed. My voice is a little hoarse from it.”
“You did. It was really fucking hot.”
“Hayes,” I complain as I turn in his embrace. He pushes down the blanket and pins me against the door.
