I Do (Hate You) by Sienna Blake

Shell

Then…

 

 

Logan and Talia’s Real Wedding

 

 

It was hard to hurl insults while keeping a huge smile on my face, but I still managed.

“Slow down, asshole. You’re walking up the aisle, not running away after one of your hit-and-run sexual encounters,” I hissed at James even as I nodded my head at my Aunt Tillie, who sat in the front row dabbing her eyes.

“Enjoy the walk up the aisle now, you harpy. I can’t imagine any man willing to actually marry you,” he retorted while still grinning, giving my brother a thumbs up as he stood in front of us at the altar.

“Fuck you.”

“Again? I knew you’d be back and begging for more,” he quipped. “And it was you who ran away after we had sex in Logan and Talia’s wedding suite, not me.”

“It was you who told me to get out of there,” I said out loud, then added in my mind, And you didn’t come after me like I’d hoped you would.

James whispered, “Looking sharp,” as we walked past Lane, who gave us an approving look from the second row. James added to me in an even lower voice, “Let’s just try to get through this day as best man and bridesmaid without killing each other, okay? We just have to walk down the aisle, smile for the photos, make it through one dance, then never see each other again. Do you think you can do that?”

"I can if you can,” I said as we split at the altar. I turned to see the bride enter. Talia was so beautiful that I almost forgot how much I hated James. Almost.

A few hours and a few stiff drinks later, I remembered exactly how much I hated him. We were dancing together with the rest of the bridal party as the photographer swirled around us all, snapping shots while we pretended to enjoy ourselves.

“That was a terrible toast,” I told James.

“It was an awesome toast,” he countered. “The entire room was laughing!”

“All the men were. A wedding toast isn’t supposed to be naughty. It’s supposed to be elegant and lovely and talk about romance and—”

“Will you just quit pretending that you are Little Miss Innocent?” James asked. I tried to jerk away but he held me tight, then swirled me around in a practiced dance move. “You seem to forget that I have fucked you nine ways from Sunday, including bending you over in a hot tub while you screamed for me to go deeper and pump harder, so I think you can save this little act for someone else.”

“I hate you,” I said, meaning it.

“I hate you too. But all we have to do is get through this one dance and we’ll be done. I’ll never touch you again,” he said. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes. God, yes. I can’t believe I ever had sex with you in the first place,” I said, meeting his eyes. “In my brother’s hotel room, even.”

“Technically, in his hotel en suite,” James said, his hand sliding a little lower down the bare back of my silky bridesmaid dress.

“Yeah, well, technically, on the counter of the en suite,” I said, trying to cover up my shiver of attraction with a snarky comment. “And then again in the tub. And the…” My voice trailed off.

By his sharp look, I knew I wasn’t fooling him. I waited for a rude comeback, but he only hummed along with the song which I knew Talia had picked specifically for the romantic lyrics. I tried to ignore the singer’s crooned words about enduring love and devotion and avoid James’s eyes, but I failed at both.

“Just tell me one thing and I swear I’ll drop it,” he whispered close to my ear.

“What?” I growled.

“I know you hate me, but you have to admit that sex was insanely hot, right? And don’t lie.”

I wanted to lie. I almost did. But in the end, I whispered, “So what if it was? It’s never happening again.”

 

 

Five minutes later…

 

“You still hate me, right?”

“Absolutely.”

James pushed me up against a rack in the coat room and slid his hands up under my long dress. I could feel his cock already rock hard between us.

“But you’re still going to fuck me, right?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

I yanked off his belt and he ripped off my tiny panties. We went at it right there in the coat room. Neither of us cared when we knocked a huge rack over. James picked me up and pushed me against the wall, thrusting inside me in one swift move.

We paused long enough to groan into each other’s mouths.

The sex was raw and dirty and so, so wrong. There were no rose petals or chocolate or hot tubs, it was just two people hate fucking in a closet.

I had never had sex that good in my life.

“Still hate me?” he whispered in my ear as he thrust himself so deep inside me that I gasped.

“More than anything,” I groaned out. “Now shut up and make me cum with that huge cock.”

And he did.

I screamed so loudly with the intense pleasure that James slapped his hand over my mouth. I doubted anyone could hear us. They were all focused on the dancing and the music and the cake. And besides, I think wool coats make one hell of a sound barrier. A few more powerful thrusts and he joined me in ecstasy, moaning into my hair.

After a moment, he pulled back and looked at me, his eyes still filled with lust. “That was amazing.”

“But it can’t happen again,” I said, rearranging my dress.

James gave me a look.

“What?” I asked.

 

 

Ten minutes later…

 

“Shut up,” I said and shoved James on the bed of his suite. “I have other ideas for your mouth.”

I crawled on top of him and pulled off my dress, completely naked except for the three-inch heels and my jewelry. I straddled his face on my knees and stroked my clit while he plunged his tongue deep inside me, grabbing my thighs to move me closer to his mouth.

When he stopped to take a breath, he said, “God, I love it when you play with yourself. It is the biggest turn on and…”

I didn’t hear the rest of his sentence because I had already reached the first of many orgasms that I would have that night. This was my family hotel and I knew just how thick the walls were so I didn’t hold back on my screams of pleasure.

When I could move again, I crawled off of him and gave him a long, deep kiss, the taste of my pussy fresh on his tongue. I sat up and started pulling at his clothes, taking off his jacket, his shirt, his pants, until finally I had him naked as I got to my knees. I took the time to take a nice long look at him.

His body was perfect. Those wide shoulders that made him look like a linebacker, his defined pecs, just above a stomach so tight you could see every single one of his abdominal muscles. James was leaning back on the bed now, his beautiful manhood erect and pointing toward the ceiling. If I had looked this closely at it the night we first made love, I might have been too afraid to continue. It was big. Very big. I wondered how it would feel in my mouth.

I leaned over and licked the tip and he moaned loudly, his mouth open with desire. He was so large that I wasn’t sure how much of it I could take. I grabbed the bottom of his shaft with both hands while I licked and swirled my tongue around the tip.

As he moaned louder, I slid my tongue down, filling my mouth with him. He took my hair and pulled it to the side so he could watch as I sucked on him and cupped his balls, rubbing them with my thumbs.

When I pulled back to look at him, James said, “I have this fantasy where I cum all over your body and watch you lick it off, but right now I want to be inside you.”

“Fuck, yes,” I said and collapsed back on the bed, exhausted from the blow job. James flipped over on top of me and slowly pushed himself inside.

He took my hands and pinned them over my head while I wrapped my legs around his waist. We increased the pace, me driving up to meet him as he thrusted harder and harder. The sex we’d had before was amazing, but this was completely unbridled and hotter than anything I could imagine. James let go of my hands when I was about to orgasm. I grabbed his ass and plunged him even deeper inside of me, screaming his name when the wave of heat ripped through me.

That sent him over the edge. He moaned, “Oh God, Shell” before he shuddered and buried his head in my hair, holding his weight on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush me below him.

We lay there in a tangle of sweaty sheets, not saying a word before we both drifted off to sleep, sated and happy.

The sunlight coming through a crack in the blackout shades woke me up the next morning. I looked down to see that James and I were still wrapped together, my head on his wide chest, his hand cupping my ass. I was wet and sore and had that satisfied feeling of having been well fucked then cuddled. I smiled, thinking how handsome he looked, his dark brown hair messy and in his face, his lips parted as he slept.

Then I remembered what this must have been to him, what it should be to both of us. Just two people who hated each other getting our rocks off at a wedding. I was probably fuck number #23 for the week.

I slowly slid his hand off my ass. He grumbled a little but never woke up. Then I slid off his chest and almost laughed out loud when I noticed that I’d never taken off my shoes. I guess they don’t call them “fuck me pumps” for nothing.

I found my dress on the floor and silently put it back on, giving James one last look. As much as I wanted to ask him what he wanted from room service or see if he wanted to go hang out at the pool, I knew spending the day with me was the last thing he’d say yes to.

I could wish all day, every day for him to be different but a leopard never changes its spots.

And a player never gives up the game.