I Do (Hate You) by Sienna Blake

James

“Don’t look,” Shell demanded while we stood there in the bathroom.

“I’m not looking.”

“You’re looking!”

“My eyes are completely closed!”

She balled up her fist and went to punch me and I ducked out of the way.

“If your eyes are completely closed, then how did you know I was about to punch you?”

Dammit. Yeah, okay, I was looking.

“Fine,” I said and closed my eyes all the way.

I listened to the rustle of her clothes sliding down her body and hitting the floor. It was almost as erotic as watching her get undressed. She yanked me forward as she got in the shower. I opened my eyes when she pulled the curtain closed.

A stream of hot water hit my cuffed arm, which had been pulled into the shower with her. I did my best not to picture what Shell looked like naked just on the other side of the curtain, but I had her body memorized. She gave a little sound of pleasure as she stood under the hot water. I couldn’t help but picture it hitting her naked breasts and running down the curves of her body. When the scent of lavender soap wafted up on a cloud of steam, I knew that Shell was slathering herself with body wash. I bit my free hand so I wouldn’t let out a groan.

I tried to replace images of her naked, wet body with ones of her big angry brother punching me in the face. That’s exactly what would happen if we gave in and had sex. I had given him my word that I would leave Shell alone, and I knew it would destroy our friendship but dammit, this was just too much for one man to bear.

“Hey, I need you…” Shell said from the shower.

Fuck, sorry, Logan. This is happening!

Then Shell finished the sentence. “…to help me wash my hair. I can’t do it with one hand.”

Dammit.

“You know, this would be a lot easier if you just let me come in there. I’m pretty dirty too,” I said.

She chucked a wet washcloth over the curtain. “You’re a dude. You can make do with that.”

I rubbed my hair and face with the little towel. By the red streak left behind, I realized that I still had a substantial amount of hot sauce on me.

“What’s that?” I yelped out when something gooey hit my hand in the shower.

“That’s the shampoo. I squirted it out onto our cuffed hands and now we just need to rub it in.”

Her hand guided mine to her hair. I helped rub in the shampoo and lather it up. I’d never washed a woman’s hair before and the sensuality of it hit me like a slap. After a few minutes of my foamy hands rubbing her hair, I couldn’t help but say, “You know, I could help you wash the rest of you. There’s no reason we have to limit this to your hair.”

“That’s a sweet offer,” she snarked. “But I’m good. It’s bad enough that I’m getting married in less than twenty-four hours and I’m naked and handcuffed to you. I wouldn’t have done this to Rupert when we were just dating, much less engaged.”

She said it with a breezy, easy manner, but I suddenly felt serious. “Why did you never want to date me?”

“Whoa. Where did that come from?”

“Just answer the question, Shell.”

After a pause, she said, “You are the world’s biggest bachelor and after that first night together, I knew you’d never want commitment. You told me it was a ‘fling’ and tried to hustle me out of the room. If that’s how you felt after amazing sex, then I was pretty sure you’d disappear completely after our first argument as a couple.”

“I didn’t want you to leave.”

I felt Shell go still and our cuffed hands dropped to her thigh. “That is complete bullshit. You practically threw me out of that hotel room.”

“There’s a good reason for that,” I said.

“Why? Because you’re a player who’s nailed half the female population of Australia?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Fuck you, James.”

“Listen. What I mean is Logan said that I couldn’t date you because I was a player. He said someone with my history with women couldn’t be trusted with his baby sister. Logan wanted a stable guy who wouldn’t break your heart because I just wanted a little fling. But you’ve always been more than just a fling to me.”

The water turned off and Shell pulled open the curtain. Her body was wet and rosy from the hot shower. I took it all in before spotting her angry face.

“Give me a towel,” she demanded.

I handed her a fluffy white cotton towel. She wrapped it around herself, leaving only her wet shoulders and the tops of her breasts exposed.

“This conversation isn’t helping anything. You just need to drop it, James.”

She stepped out of the shower toward me, but I didn’t move. And I didn’t drop it.

“Do you love Rupert?”

“What kind of question is that?” she demanded.

“One that I think you need to ask yourself. Do you love Rupert?”

She turned to look at me, shivering as the air cooled and hit her wet skin. I held my breath waiting for her to answer. If she told me “yes,” I promised myself that I wouldn’t say another word about it.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. All Shell said was, “Rupert is safe and steady and handsome, and he always takes care of me. I can’t imagine ever doubting him or worrying about his past.”

I nodded, unable to speak standing this close to her, wanting her so much. When I regained my voice, I said in a low voice, “Shell, I am so sorry.”

“For what?” she whispered.

“This.”

I closed the gap between us, sliding my free hand to the side of her face and slowly, gently kissing her. I slid my other hand behind her back, pulling hers along with it. For a moment, Shell’s other hand came up beside me and hovered in the air like she was trying to decide whether to listen to her body or her brain.

It must only have been a second or two, but it felt like I stood there a year while she decided what she wanted. Finally, I felt her hovering hand slide to my ass and pull me closer as her mouth parted and her tongue found mine.

We stayed wrapped like that as I walked backward across the bathroom and into the bedroom. When the back of my knees hit the bed, she pulled at my shirt with her free hand, and I was just about to rip her towel off when someone knocked on the door.

“Who could that be?” she asked, pulling her mouth from mine.

“Probably room service just here to pick up the leftover trays. They’ll go away,” I said as I tried to unbutton my shorts one-handed.

“We should answer it,” she said, growing still even as I nibbled her ear.

“Ignore it!” I said, but then I looked at her face, and I could tell she was having a silent freak-out about cheating on her fiancé.

“Just go answer it and I’ll hide behind the door. If it’s room service, then you tell them to go away,” she whispered as the door banged again.

“And then I can rip that towel off of you?”

“Just go answer the door,” Shell said, trying to reposition her towel while pushing me toward the door.

I stomped along beside her, vowing to punch the dude who was there to take the tray or turn down the bed or whatever dumb hotel shit was happening. Shell positioned herself behind the door and gave me a nod and I pulled it open, ready to blast whatever little dweeb who would be standing there in a hotel uniform.

It was no hotel worker in a uniform.

It was Rupert’s personal assistant Natazia wearing a blue silk robe hanging open to reveal a lace push-up bra and panties over thigh-high stockings and high heels.

What the fuck?