Hate me

Aspen

Holy shit. 

Adrenaline courses through my veins as I head back to the dressing room. 

I can’t believe I just did that. However, if there was ever a night to be bold, this was it because it’s packed. 

“Damn, girl,” Heather says when I open the door of the dressing room. “There’s not a dry seat in the house after that little performance.” 

After placing my bag of money on the counter, I put my bra on. “Well, hopefully it paid off—”

“You can’t go back there,” Bubba the security guard shouts before the door of the dressing room swings open.

My mouth drops when Knox rushes inside, looking like a deranged psychopath as his gaze lands on me. 

“What the hell are you—”

I don’t get to finish my statement because Knox picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder like some kind of unhinged caveman. 

“Are you crazy?” I slap his back when he turns to walk out of the room. 

“Do you know him?” Heather calls out as we pass the counter and I reach for my cardigan. 

“Should I call the police?” Bubba asks, sidestepping Knox as he leaves the room. 

No, you should fucking stop him. Then again, now that I’ve seen Knox fight…it wouldn’t end well for poor Bubba. 

“He’s my stepbrother,” I settle on because the club has a strict rule against boyfriends being here. 

Not that Knox is my boyfriend. 

He’s nothing to me. He made that perfectly clear the other night. 

“Put me down,” I demand, but the asshole ignores me as he trudges down the hallway. 

At least he’s headed for the back exit instead of trekking through the club.  

I try squirming out of his arms, but that only makes his hold on me tighten. “Jesus. Are you deaf? Put me d—”

“No,” Knox growls. “You’re done.” 

He can’t be serious. 

“My shift doesn’t end for another two hours. I need to go back inside.” 

He shoves open the door leading to the back lot. “You no longer work here. You’re fucking done.” 

For a moment I swear I must be hearing things because none of this makes any sense. “You’re kidding, right?”

I jolt when I feel his palm slap my bare ass. 

Holy hell. Did he just spank me like I’m a child? 

“Does that feel like I’m kidding? Or do you need another one?” 

I can’t help but laugh because he’s acting and talking like a crazy person. 

My laughter only makes him slap my other ass cheek. 

I punch the back of his thigh. “Quit spanking me, asshole.” I pinch him for good measure. “And put me down. Now.” 

To my surprise, he obliges, setting me down in front of his jeep.

I quickly put on the only article of clothing I was able to grab and button it. 

“What the hell is your problem?”

His sharp features twist and he blows out a ragged breath, almost like he’s surrendering to something beyond his control. 

His voice is low and guttural when he finally speaks. “I want to fuck you again.” 

I stare at him in disbelief because that was the last thing I expected him to say. However, if he thinks dragging me out of my job in a jealous rage and proclaiming that he wants to fuck me again is going to change anything between us, he’s even crazier than I thought. 

I shake my head, teetering on the verge of either laughing or crying because everything about this exchange—about us—is insane. 

“You had your chance to do more than fuck me,” I remind him, spi

I’ve barely taken two steps when he snatches my arm and hauls me back to him. 

“Leave me alone, Knox.” 

His free hand slides down the length of my torso. “I can’t.” 

He’s so full of shit. “Can’t or won’t?” 

He grabs my hip with one hand and takes hold of my waist with the other. I can feel his erection pressing into my backside. “Both.”

My head feels heavy and my eyes burn with unshed tears as he unbuttons my sweater and squeezes my tit through my bra. 

His rejection hurt…more than any other time he’s set out to cause me pain. 

I was ready and willing to take the plunge with him. 

All he had to do was be honest with me. 

But he couldn’t. 

“Stop.” 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he grabs the back of my neck, turning my face up to meet his before he kisses me like I’m the air he needs to breathe in order to survive. 

He explores every inch of my mouth, leaving no stone unturned. 

I feel the armor I’ve built around me begin to crumble like cheap plywood with every hungry stroke of his tongue. 

I faintly register the sound of his jeep door opening before he tears his mouth away and bends me over the backseat.

I hate that he has this much control over me. 

That he can hurt me so much, yet I still crave him. 

I dig my nails into the seat, desperate to hold on to some semblance of control as he yanks my panties down my legs. 

“No.” 

The sound of him tugging down his zipper has my blood pressure climbing and my nipples pebbling.

I hiss when he spreads my ass cheeks and holds them open—exposing all of me—before I feel the head of his cock nudge my entrance. “Tell me you don’t want this.” 

 “I don’t want to want this,” I whisper, the last of my willpower shattering like glass. 

Because everything was so much easier when I hated him. 

His gruff voice cuts through the air. “That makes two of us.” 

With that, he pushes forward until he’s buried deep inside me.

“Fuck.” 

His thrusts are fast and brutal—punishing—yet rewarding at the same time.

I scratch at the seat, tearing the upholstery as he gives it to me exactly the way I need it. 

 “I hate you,” I croak out, because I can’t tell him how I really feel. 

I can’t tell him that he drives me crazy and he’s a psychopath, but I feel like he’s the only one on this earth who actually gets me. 

I can’t tell him I never felt for Leo even a fraction of what I feel for him…and I’m petrified I never will with anyone else. 

Reaching around, he strums my clit like it’s his personal instrument, causing little shocks of electricity to pulse through my body. 

“That’s it, Stray.” He circles his hips before pumping them faster. “Give me what I fucking want.”

Pleasure spikes through me and my orgasm strengthens like a brewing storm as he wrenches it from me. 

A deep, throaty groan tears out of him, the carnal sound reverberating in my chest as liquid heat fills my pussy.  

I can’t tell him that even if he killed Candi and Shadow…my heart would still try to find a way to excuse it. 

Despite my brain and conscience knowing better. 

Tears spring to my eyes as I fight to catch my breath. 

I have to know the truth. 

“Did you kill them?” I choke out, and for once I almost hope he doesn’t answer, because I don’t want to lose him again. 

His voice is so low I almost don’t hear it. 

“No.”