Page 14 of Hostile Cravings (Wicked Cravings #3)

I made my way to the coffee bar that was set up just on the edge of the beach.

Angie didn’t drink coffee. She didn’t like the bitter taste of it, so I ordered my own and a hot tea with almond milk for her, thinking it an odd thing to know about her.

Only then realizing I knew a lot about her.

Over the years, her small habits, her likes and dislikes had rooted into my consciousness.

I didn’t know those things about her brother because I’d never paid attention during my visits, but I’d catalogued Angie’s, putting to memory all the tiny minutia that made up the woman I’d so vehemently despised.

It seemed an odd thing to do with someone I hated.

After a brief walk, I returned to the room, finding the bed empty, the water running in the shower. Sitting on the balcony with my coffee, I waited for Angie to emerge, wishing she’d stayed in bed so I could have crawled back in and held her longer.

Fuck, Ty. What is wrong with you?

The water in the shower turned off but Angie didn’t emerge, taking her time getting ready, time standing on that ankle longer.

If she kept walking on it, she’d damage it more and it would end up more than just a twist. It aggravated me how she insisted on pushing it.

After what seemed forever, the door opened.

By now my irritation with waiting for her had grown, my thoughts of her ankle, of not seeing her when I returned, of being angry at myself for wanting to see her were now a frustration that was brimming for release.

She walked out wearing a tiny blue bikini that barely covered her body.

My jaw dropped like it did each time I saw her in one, but most times I could hide the reaction beneath my hatred for her.

This time, I couldn’t, and my eyes perused each inch of her, the strain in my pants growing worse the more I looked.

The desire to grab her and take her hard against the wall, to rip those delicate pieces of material from her body, roared through me.

“You look like you want to devour me,” she said. “I thought we were back to our animosity today.”

I finally drew my eyes from her body to her face. “We are.”

She’d fixed herself up, the glasses gone, her hair perfectly brushed to frame her face, the makeup back to conceal the things I loved about her. Loved? That was a strong word, one that pissed me off as much as the makeup and the tiny bikini.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked, rising from my seat.

“To the beach. I can rest my foot while I sit in the sun. I’m not spending the entire trip locked in this room with you.”

But damn, how I wanted to keep her locked in with me, to explore every part of her, to taste and touch. Running my hands through my hair, I tried to shut those thoughts up, to stop the craving that had become a hostile takeover to every other emotion I had for Angie.

“You’re not leaving this room in that.”

She laughed, throwing her head back and revealing her graceful neck. “You are not my father, and he lets me out of the house in this. ”

“I don’t do the daddy kink, baby, so get back in that bathroom, wash that shit off your face, and cover your body up.”

She tipped her head, her eyes dark. “Your whores don’t call you daddy? With as bossy as you are, I would have thought they did.”

“I don’t touch whores, bitch.” I’d unintentionally walked closer to her, my anger surfacing with each step. “I don’t need to pay for sex.”

“No, I guess you don’t,” she said, throwing me off because I’d expected her to give me some witty remark. “Regardless, I’m not calling you daddy. It’s not my thing.”

The seductive way she said it destroyed me. I grabbed her hair, twisting my fingers into it and thrusting her against me. “And what is your thing?”

We were playing a game, one that was escalating quickly because we’d unleashed something last night, something we couldn’t put back.

Her breaths were coming out short and strained, each one gripping me with a force I couldn’t resist. “I don’t have a thing.”

I gave her hair a tug, her eyes lighting. “I think you do. You’ve just never had the right man show you what you like.”

Shit, I needed to stop because we were both playing with fire, and I wanted to burn.

“What are we doing, Tyson?” she asked, her brows furrowing.

“Shit, little viper, I think you know what we’re doing.”

There was a gorgeous flush to her cheeks that was fighting to show below her makeup.

I wondered how wet she was, the thought killing me.

Pushing her into the wall, I ran my hand down her body, the temptation to fuck her growing with every bit of warm skin I touched.

I wanted her so badly that it was screaming through me, a primal need to take her, to claim her.

“You hate me,” she said, a desperateness to her voice. “Passionately. ”

She was trying to stop this, fighting it just like I was. I searched her eyes, seeing that confusion in them again.

“I do. Despise is a better word for it.”

“Then walk away, Ty. Walk away now.”

But I didn’t want to. As much as I hated her, that craving for her was one I could no longer fight.

“Please.” The desperate plea in her voice stopped me. “Hate me, despise me, insult me, but don’t do this. We can’t.”

She was right. We couldn’t because it might fracture us and the fear that it would was enough to drown me.

“Why?” I wanted to hear her say it, to confirm that she felt the same way.

She swallowed. “Because it would shatter us, and then what would we be? I know what we are now, Tyson. But I don’t know what this would do to us.”

I took my hand from her hip, releasing her and rolling my neck. “Go take that fucking make-up off and I’ll take you to the beach.”

“I’m not taking it?—”

I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the bathroom, letting my anger overtake the jumble of emotions that were brewing like a deadly storm in me. Shoving her to the sink, I stood as a barrier to the door, my arms crossed.

“Wash the shit off, now.”

“You’re a prick.”

“That’s better, wench. Now take it off so I can see those damned freckles.” I’d slipped, trying to be an asshole and letting the reason come out.

She put her hands on the sink and looked at me in the mirror. My eyes ran the length of her body, thinking how perfectly her ass was sticking out, begging for me to take her by the hips and pound into her while I watched her fall apart in the mirror.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my eyes glued to her ass. As if she read the situation, she straightened up and turned the water on .

“You could have asked nicely,” she grumbled. “You don’t always have to be such an aggressive shithead.”

“I am an aggressive shithead. I thought you knew that.” I tore my eyes from her ass, trying to calm the pressure in my pants that had me aching.

“I do. You should leave, Tyson.” She was wiping her face down with a small cloth, the makeup stripped away with each swipe of her hand.

Turning my attention to her supplies that were scattered around the sink, I said, “No.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’d think with as hard as you are right now, you wouldn’t want to see me bend over again.”

I froze, peering over at her. She wore a playful, teasing smile before she turned the water on and bent over again. This time, she pushed her ass out further, leaning so close to the counter that it was protruding enticingly.

“You do that shit on purpose. Like you want my cock sinking into that.” She splashed water on her face, but stopped at my words. “How wet are you, baby?”

Shit, why had I asked that and why had the thought made me even harder?

“Wet enough to soak these bottoms,” she said without missing a beat before she returned to washing her face.

I didn’t move, knowing I wouldn’t be able to walk if I tried. When had our nasty insults turned to flirty sexual banter?

“But we’re enemies,” she continued, lathering up her face. “And since you hate me, these soaked bottoms will stay soaked until another man satisfies me.”

She rinsed her face, then blotted it dry as my rage returned, the thought of another man reaping the benefits of what I’d sewn slashing through me like a rusty knife.

I walked behind her, running my hand over her ass before pulling her flush against me.

She let out a low moan as her back met the bulge in my pants.

My hands moved to her hips, then over the front of her bikini, noticing the smoothness underneath.

Damn, she was smooth and my dick lurched.

The corner of her mouth lifted into a sly grin until I dipped my finger under the material. Her body tensed, her eyes on mine.

“No man is going to take what’s mine,” I growled, my other hand running up her stomach.

“But I’m not yours, Tyson. We hate each other.” The raspy sound of her voice gave away her true emotions.

“You are mine. I told you, your father sold you off to me for protection. This may be a fake marriage, but make no mistake, you’re mine, Angie, and I will tear down any man who touches what’s mine.”

Her head dropped to my shoulder, and I slipped my finger lower, sinking into her wetness and knowing I’d just pushed us to a breaking point.

“Do you want me to stop?” I asked against her ear.

“Do you want to stop?” she countered, her hand wrapping around my head, her fingers threading through my hair.

“Fuck, baby, never.”

“Then don’t.” Her consent barreled through me like a storm I couldn’t stop, and I plunged my finger into her. Her body quivered in my hands as she cried out.

I tore at her top, her breasts freeing as I swept my finger over her clit.

Her nipple puckered below my hand, and I took it between my fingers, watching her in the mirror.

Seeing how she fell further with each twist I made.

Her stomach was shaking, her breathing so rapid it was destroying me.

My eyes remained fixed on her as my finger thrust back into her.

Her back arched, sending my finger further.

She was dripping, and I suddenly wanted her wrapped around me.

She pushed her breast further into my hand and I pinched her nipple, seeing her eyes roll back as her head pressed into my shoulder.

The sight riveted me, and I could barely contain myself while I watched her clenching her legs around my hand.

Her fingers pulled at my hair, and I dropped my mouth to her neck, running my lips over it before I looked back into the mirror.

“Look at yourself, Anj. You’re gorgeous coming on my fingers.”

Her moan was hoarse, and she pushed down on my fingers.

Our eyes locked and as I drove a second finger into her, she shattered, her climax hitting her, her body tightening around them.

A series of convulsions coursed through her, and I couldn't take my eyes from how sexy she looked. Her cry was feral and, knowing I couldn’t hold back any longer, I answered its call, pulling my fingers from her and jerking her hips back before freeing my hard-on.

I pushed her bikini aside and thrust into her, the sensation coursing through my body and gripping every part of me. Years of need for her, covered by hatred and anger, converged in an unrelenting need to have her fall apart for me again and to break with her as I filled her.

Yanking her hips further back, I shoved her head down to the sink, the aggression pounding through me each time she thrust her hips back to meet me.

The mirror was extensive enough for me to watch, to see her face as she lifted her head, pushing against my hold on her, her eyes meeting mine.

They were needy and lust-filled and I thrust harder, twisting her hair in my fingers and pulling.

She moaned, a sound that pummeled through me, encouraging the storm to surge as her body quaked around me.

She was so close, and I was about to come, my desire for her too intense to hold back any longer.

But I fought my release. I wanted to watch how her body moved with mine, to see the ecstasy on her face, that hunger that burned in her eyes. I pulled her hair so hard her body arched into my chest .

“Come for me again, little viper.” I barely recognized my voice. She had me so turned on I was struggling not to come yet.

Her eyes blazed as I continued to thrust into her, bringing my fingers back to her clit, my other hand returning to taunt her nipple more. Her nipples were fantastic. They were so hard my mouth was salivating with the need to suck on them.

“Tyson,” she cried as I moved my hand up her neck, shoving her head against my chest again.

I tightened slightly, not wanting to hurt her.

It was hard to hold back because I was aggressive, and I didn’t think she’d ever experienced a man like me.

Her body trembled and mine responded, cresting to the edge of release.

Slamming her back down, I grabbed her hips, my fingers digging into her flesh, and watched her in the mirror.

“That’s it, baby, come for me.”

She cried out, her body gripping me so hard I could no longer contain my control over it.

“Fuck I’m gonna come,” I said hoarsely. I started to pull out, intent to splatter her back since I’d been too lost in the moment to think about protection. But she pushed into me. My eyes met hers.

“Fill me, Tyson,” she screamed through her climax. “I need to have you inside of me.”

I’d spotted the birth control on the counter, and she’d told me she always used protection, but I hadn’t come inside of a woman since I’d been a foolish teenager.

The thought of it was enough to push me over the edge and I slammed into her harder, sensing her climax peak, her muscles bearing down on me and coaxing my release, which tore through me.

It was so intense that it shook me to the core, my body shaking with hers, her cry mingling with my grunts until I dropped my hands from her hips and leaned on the counter.

I didn’t think I’d ever come so intensely, and seeing her come with me in the mirror had only added to that intensity.

Her eyes met mine as I slid from her and I realized what we’d just done, the step we’d just taken.

The one uncontrollable move now changing us to something other than two people who despised each other.

But I didn’t know what it had changed us to or if we could ever go back because going forward was an unknown neither of us was prepared to face.