If You Hate Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

“Thanks for booking us some ice time. I know you’re busy with training,” Brody says as we unlace our skates. It’s a Saturday morning, and I don’t have to be on the ice with my team until later today.

“I wish I could do it more often. Your wrist shot has really improved since we were on the ice last.” Our dad tries to make it to all of Brody’s practices, but the one-on-one ice time isn’t something he can give.

“Yeah. Hockey camp this summer was great.” He pulls his shirt over his head and unclips his pads, revealing several hickeys on his chest.

“What’s going on here?” I poke one on his collarbone. “You got a girlfriend you haven’t told me about?” I frown at the marks on his stomach. He’s not even eighteen yet.

He ducks his head, and his cheeks flush. “Ah, no. No girlfriend. Just uh…fooled around with a girl at a party.”

I was probably doing the same thing when I was his age, or worse. “She go to your school?”

He shakes his head. “She and her friends come to a lot of our games, and they end up at our parties sometimes.”

“So it was a one-time thing?” I prod. It’s unsettling to think he’s already into meaningless hookups.

He shrugs. “Probably. I, uh…I kinda liked one of her friends, but uh…this girl started chatting me up. Some of them have had sex with, like, half the team. It’s like…” He runs a hand down his face, and his knee bounces a few times. “I don’t know. Kinda fucked up, I guess. But you know what that’s like. Girls are always after you.”

“It can be overwhelming.” And exhausting. Especially with a best friend like Flip.

Brody nods, chewing his bottom lip. “Everyone was hooking up, and she was all over me ’cause my stats are high this year. Plus, she knows you’re my brother. So, yeah. She was kinda pushy and aggressive.” He runs his hands over the bite marks on his abs. “But I got a BJ out of it, so I guess that’s cool, right?”

I don’t know if he’s seeking my approval or what. We have a different relationship. I’m his brother, but I’ve always sort of functioned like a second parent, too, so I feel compelled to keep asking questions. “Were you into her?”

He shrugs again, removing the rest of his gear, apart from his boxer briefs. “She was all right. She just wanted to fuck around.”

“Did you want to fuck around with her?” There’s something off. Maybe it’s the way he can’t quite make eye contact.

“Like I said, I was kinda into her friend, but that’s not gonna happen now, so it’s whatever.” He slaps his thighs. “Anyway, if this can stay between us, that’d be great.”

“Yeah, it can stay between us. You’re being safe, though, right? Using condoms, making sure you have consent?”

“I didn’t have sex with her. She wanted to, but I said I didn’t have a condom, so she blew me instead. I got her off first, though.” He pushes off the bench. “I’m gonna hop in the shower.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

He disappears into a stall and pulls the curtain closed. I’m glad he feels comfortable talking to me. It’s a hard balance, keeping his confidence as his brother, but wanting to make sure our dad isn’t totally out of the loop.

I offer to take him out for lunch, but he has plans to meet a couple of his teammates, so we do drive-thru and I drop him off at home.

“Thanks for hanging out with me this morning, Tris.”

I squeeze his shoulder. “No problem, Brod.”

“I’ll see you next week at my game?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

He hops out of the passenger seat and grabs his gear from the trunk. He raps on the window and waves, turning toward the house.

I roll the window down as he crosses the lawn. “Hey, Brody.”

He pauses. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

He gives me a questioning look. “Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just making sure. Have a good week.”

All the way home, I think about the conversation with my brother. I remember what it was like to be his age, all hormones and testosterone. Someone always wanted to fool around. If I wanted action, I could get it. And even if I didn’t, it was still available. I consider all the times Flip and I have gone to the bar. He buys me a shot and cajoles me into taking someone home. A few times I’ve pawned the girl off on him, if she seemed like she didn’t care who she ended up under. Or if I thought my brand of sex wouldn’t be her jam. Flip is always down for multiple partners.

His antics have been splashed across the internet for everyone to see, including my brother. And I’ve been directly involved since we’ve been playing on the same team, so I’m sure Brody’s seen me doing body shots and who the hell knows what else. He looks up to me. Was he seeking my approval? I really fucking hope not. I’ve never brought anyone home to meet my dad or my brothers because they’ve never lasted long enough. Three months is my cap. I get bored easily, so I always bow out before things get serious.

Later that day, I hit the gym to work out with Dallas and Roman. Flip is with one of his semi-regular hookups. He told me he was pretty sure he could get her to bring a friend along, if I was interested. But I wasn’t. When we’re done, I just want to go home. Huff Beat’s shampoo. Maybe push her buttons if she’s around. Getting a rise out of her is my favorite thing. Though seeing her cry is still shredding me.

Looks like the powers that be are on my side because she’s in the shower when I get to the condo. Things have been weird since we fucked. And then there was the ice cream freak-out. She’s been avoiding me since that happened. I fucking hate it.

I grab the jug of orange juice from the fridge and a box of crackers and climb the ladder to the loft. I turn on the TV, set up the gaming console, and put the headset on. I’ll occupy myself until she comes up.

I’m in the middle of a level when a pillow hits me in the side of the head. It knocks off the headphones, and I drop the controller. My player dies in a hail of gunfire as Beat shrieks.

“What the hell are you doing up here?” Her body is wrapped in a towel—a regular bath one, not the sheets that act like a dress. It means most of her toned, curvy legs are on display.

“Been a while since I’ve heard that sound. Usually it’s from me spanking your pussy, though.” Oh yeah, I’m bringing my asshole A-game.

“You scared the shit out of me! Why didn’t you answer when I called?”

“I didn’t hear you.” I motion to the headphones. “And was playing a video game. In my loft.”

She clutches her towel to her chest. “Don’t worry. I’ll be out by the end of September.”

I don’t want her to move into another shitty apartment because she can’t get away from me fast enough. But instead of saying something normal, I act like the dick I am. “Can’t handle facing your bad decision every day, eh?” That has to be the reason she’s avoiding me like the plague. Not that I blame her. I’d do the same if I were in her shoes.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Tristan, stop throwing it in my face every time I see you.”

“You’re doing a good job of throwing it in mine.” Running away every time I’m home. Evade. Dodge. Hide.

“What are you talking about?”

“You already said you regret it.” It’s a real kick in the balls. I should regret it. Hell, I want to. It’d be easier if I felt the same way. But all I want is more. I can’t tell her that, though. She’ll use it against me.

Her brow furrows. “We haven’t even had a conversation about it since it happened.”

I cross my arms. “Sure we did. The evening after.”

Bea’s nose scrunches up, and she rubs her temple. She’s so fucking cute when she’s frustrated. “You were being a dick. You said once was enough! Why would I want to be anywhere near you after you told me I’m a bad lay?”

“You said you regretted it!” I push to my feet. “I asked if you were regretting your decision already, and you said, ‘Of course I am.’” I should get out of here. This conversation isn’t going anywhere good. She’s naked under that towel, and I’m two seconds away from admitting all I can think about is getting her under me again.

She shakes her head.

“That’s exactly what you said,” I snap.

She flails her hand. She’s getting heated again. I can deal with that better than I can the fucking silence, surprisingly. “Yeah, but not because I regretted the actual sex,” she counters. “All we do is argue. And in case you were unaware, you’re kind of a giant asshole. It’s pretty damn conflicting.”

“So you don’t regret the sex?” I don’t like the wave of relief that washes over me.

She narrows her eyes and tips her head. “Why are you pushing this so hard? Why do you even care? You think I’m annoying.”

“You drive me up the fucking wall, Beat.” But not because I find her annoying. After holding her in my arms the other day, I stopped hating that she’s living here. It’s the opposite now, actually. She’s smart and funny and driven. She’s helpful and thoughtful and so fucking kind. I don’t deserve any part of her, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting her, and that’s what’s making me feel like I’m losing my mind. I close the distance between us and clench my fists so I don’t do something stupid like take her face in my hands and kiss her again.

She tips her chin up, defiant. “The feeling is entirely mutual.” But I see hurt lurking under the surface. I wonder if that’s what made her cry the other day. Maybe she’s taking my admission out of context.

“I hate that you smell so fucking good all the time.”

“I hate your ridiculous body and your rock-solid ass,” she fires back.

“Every time you wear those tiny sleep shorts, I want to yank them off, throw you over my lap, spank that luscious ass, and finger-fuck you until you come.”

“Oh, God.” She grips her towel tighter and rubs her legs together. “I hate that I want that, too.” Her teeth sink into her plush bottom lip.

“I hate that every time you bite your lip, all I can think about is how they felt wrapped around my cock, and I really hate that you can deep throat like a fucking champ.” She got on her knees for me after Flip left. It was a fucking revelation.

“I was actually impressed with myself,” she says, managing a smile. “Your dick is huge. Which I hate, by the way. Especially when you’re filling me with it. Were filling me. Past tense. ’Cause it was a one-time thing.”

“Just that one time.” I nod. “You want to know what I hate the most?”

“That you still want to fuck me, even though I annoy the shit out of you?”

“Exactly.” Wanting her compromises everything. It’s dangerous and bad, and I’ll ruin her, if she lets me.

Her nostrils flare, and her gaze drops to my mouth.

“Screw it.” She grabs the back of my neck and pulls my mouth to hers.

We both make irritated sounds. I yank off the towel wrapped around her head and toss it on the floor, spearing my hands through her wet, tangled hair, angling her head so I can get inside her mouth. She tastes like mint. I spin her around and walk her backward to the futon. She grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head. I tug her towel free, then cup her breasts and dip down to roughly suck her nipples.

We’re frantic hands and teeth and tongues, trying to touch every inch of each other.

“I don’t think I can keep my hands off of you,” I admit as I shove the coffee table out of the way and drop to my knees. “Sit down.”

She spreads the towel out and drops onto it. “We should set some ground rules.”

“This stops when you move out.” Maybe she’ll stick around longer if my dick continues to be involved. Lord knows my personality is sorely lacking. I drop my head and lick up the length of her sex, groaning as the taste of her hits my tongue.

“Fuck, that’s good.” She bows off the couch and shoves her hands into my hair. “No feelings. This is about fucking. I just got out of a relationship and neither of us needs the complication.”

I suck her clit and smile when she shrieks. “I don’t do relationships, so you don’t have to worry about me getting attached.”

She scoffs. “We don’t even like each other. Obviously we won’t get attached.”

“You like my cock well enough.” I circle her entrance with a finger.

“Why are you still talking?”

“Flip can’t know.” I palm her tit. I can’t have sex with her if I’m dead. And Flip will definitely kill me if he finds out. That thought alone should give me pause, but it just makes me more desperate.

“Never. This stays between us,” she agrees.

We both nod, and I ease one finger inside her. So soft, and warm, and tight.

Bea moans. “I should not be this close to coming already. It’s not normal. What’s wrong with us?”

“I don’t know, but being ignored for the past week has been a fucking nightmare.”

“Good. Serves you right for saying I’m a forgettable fuck.”

“I was talking shit. It pisses me off that I can’t stop thinking about the sounds you make when you’re about to come.”

“Stop being an asshole and use more fingers.” She covers the hand currently kneading her breast and moves it to circle her throat. “I liked it when you did this last time.” She pulses around my finger.

I am so, so fucked.

I rise and loom over her, my palm wrapped around her delicate throat, thumb and finger pressing into the hinge of her jaw. “Like this?”

She nods, and her fingers drift along the back of my hand, then drop to palm the breast I just released. “Yeah.”

“Why do you have to be so fucking perfect?” I cover her mouth with mine as I slide three fingers into her pussy. She moans and rolls her hips.

I break the kiss and let my lips skim her cheek until I reach her ear. I nuzzle into her hair, fingers rubbing inside her. “You think I’m gonna let you come all over my fingers?”

She grabs my wrist and grinds down on my hand. “I’m so close.”

“I know.” I pull my fingers free and slap her clit. “But not yet.”

She arches and whimpers, throat pressing against my palm as I hold her in place.

“God, I hate you.” She groans.

“Yeah, but you love my cock.” I stroke along the edge of her jaw and explain why I’m being an asshole. “I want to be in you when you come.”

“Condom?” she asks.

I pull my wallet out and flip it open. Find the single condom and pass it to her. While she tears the wrapper open, I pop the button on my jeans, unzip the fly, and shove my boxers and pants down enough to free my cock.

My fingers flex around her throat as she rolls it down my length. I sink to my knees, run the head over her clit, line myself up, and watch as my cock disappears inside her.

“Oh my God. Oh, God,” she whimpers, eyes falling closed. Her legs are already shaking, an orgasm imminent.

I sweep my thumb along her bottom lip. “Look at me, Bea.”

Her eyes pop open as I pull out, all the way to the ridge, then push back in, slowly. Because I’m savoring this. At least for a few minutes. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“So are you,” she whispers.

“I’m really glad you don’t regret me, even though I gave you every reason to,” I admit.

“I tried, but I couldn’t.”

“I didn’t.” I should. For so many reasons.

Her eyes flutter shut when I pull out again.

“Nuh-uh,” I counter. “Eyes on me.”

They lock on mine, lust heavy.

“Who’s fucking you, Bea?” This time I thrust hard, and her body jerks.

“You are.” She clenches as the first orgasm rolls through her.

“Who’s making you come?” I brush my lips over hers.

“You.” She arches and stiffens.

“That’s right. This pussy is mine.”

“Oh, God.” Her eyes roll up, and she struggles to focus on me. “I hate that you make me feel so good.”

“Is that why you’re coming all over my cock again?” I pound into her, the orgasm still rolling through her, making goose bumps rise along her skin and a sheen of sweat breaks across her shoulders.

“Your mouth is filthy.” She moans through a full-body shudder.

“You love it.”

“I really do. It’s so annoying.” She pulls my mouth to hers, and I let her.

I want to absorb all the good parts of her. I want more of this, more of her.

And today I bought myself some time to get her out of my system. Hopefully it’ll be enough.