Loathe Me, Love Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance by Mandy Huey

Author:Mandy Huey [Huey, Mandy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-03-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8:

The Next Morning

I wake in Annabeth’s bed, naked and alone.

As I sit up, the previous night flashes through my mind. Images of our limbs intertwining and Annabeth’s beautiful face contorted with pleasure floods my thoughts. I’m instantly exhilarated.

All this time, Annabeth thought she was flirting, while I thought she hated me. Typical of me to expect a woman to be instantly charmed by my smile and status. I’m so used to women wanting me or wanting something from me. It wasn’t until last night that I realized how exhausted I was from doing what others wanted instead of reaching for what I actually wanted—craved, in fact.

I look around the room for something to wear, then remember my room is across the hall. I tiptoe to my bag, find a pair of sweatpants, and slip them on. As I inch down the stairs, I hear Annabeth humming while the smell of bacon wafts toward me from the dining room table.

As I approach her from behind, I notice she’s wearing that baggy UCLA Berkeley sweatshirt… and nothing else. The shirt reaches just below her butt, her cheeks peeking through as she reaches for a mug on a high shelf. Lord help me, she is stunning.

She jumps as I wrap my arms around her and inhale her neck. She turns around and runs her hands through my bedhead.

“Morning, gorgeous.” She says.

“Morning.” I kiss her, bending her back and lifting her thigh. She pushes me away and shakes her finger.

“Not fair.” I gesture to her outfit and lean back on the kitchen island.

“I could say the same thing.” She points at my pants, my sculpted hip bones stretching out over the waistband.

She winks at me and turns back to the scrambled eggs on the stove.

“But I’m hungry.” I whine.

“Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Not for breakfast,” I whisper in her ear as I approach her again.

She tries to turn around again, but I don’t let her. Instead, I spin her, pressing our bodies onto the kitchen island. I reach under her sweatshirt and gently rub her between her thighs. She exhales loudly, still trying to face me, but I have her pinned between me and the counter.

“Well, if you’re really that hungry...” she trails off and reaches behind her and into my pants, stroking me. I growl loudly, and before I know it, I’ve spread her legs, bent her over, and slipped inside her. She gasps every time I thrust, and we both finish so quickly that I collapse on top of her, both of us lazily lying face down on the cold granite countertop.

“Okay, Scott. If we’re going to keep this up, I’m going to need to refuel.” She props herself upward and shoos me away as she turns back to her eggs. “They’re burnt.”

“No, they’re just well done.” I say, looking over her shoulder at the once golden eggs, now brown. “They look great. Let’s eat!”

But before I can move, Annabeth turns around, wraps her arms around me, and buries her face in my chest, breathing me in.

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