I Do (Hate You) by Sienna Blake
Shell
The Present…
“Why are we handcuffed together?” I shrieked at James.
“Why are you yelling?” He groaned, holding his head. “I am literally less than a meter from you with no chance of escaping. You don’t have to scream.”
“Fine,” I spat out at a slightly lower volume. “Do you mind telling me what the hell happened last night?”
“I would love to tell you what happened last night, but I don’t remember a damn thing.”
“Why are you naked?” I pressed.
“Usually when I’m in bed with you, it’s for an anger bang or kinky—”
“Shut up,” I said, disgusted with myself for setting him up with such an easy dunk on me.
James rolled his eyes, then whimpered as the pain of the movement appeared to shoot through his brain. “Make up your mind. Do you want answers, or do you want me to shut up?”
“Do you have any answers?”
James was quiet for a long minute, like he was combing through his brain, looking for any forgotten details. “Shit, I don’t have answers. You know me, I never get blackout drunk, but I don’t remember anything about last night. Not a single detail.”
“Think harder. I need to know exactly what you did to me last night,” I hissed at him as the sheet slid down again, exposing my left breast.
“I didn’t do a thing to you,” James said, not even bothering to look at my boob that was hanging out before I could pull up the sheet.
“I’m pretty sure that you would have sex with a blowup doll if you found one in your bed, so why would you just go to sleep next to me and not do anything?
“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re getting married tomorrow?”
I had forgotten. I had fucking forgotten my own wedding. Everything that was planned for the next two days flashed before my eyes—family and friends, wedding marches and flower arrangements, champagne and dancing. If anyone found us like this, the wedding would be over before it even started.
The shriek came out of my mouth before I could stop it. I slapped my cuffed hand to my mouth, which of course dragged his cuffed hand along with it and straight onto my boob.
“Get your hand off me,” I said between gritted teeth.
“Oh, please. It’s not like I did it on purpose. Calm down already and quit screaming.”
He was right. It killed me to even think those words, but the best way to keep this hideous secret from getting out was to stay very, very quiet and make a bargain with the man I hated.
“My head hurts too,” I admitted. “But I don’t know where any aspirin is.”
“Maybe you have some under that thing you’re wearing on your head,” James said.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, wondering if the headache was making him hallucinate.
“Not that I’m complaining,” James said with a wink. “It’s hot. Kinky, even. I was just wondering why you were wearing it.”
“Did you just wink at me?” I asked him, as if that was the most pressing issue right now.
“Yup. Check yourself out and you’ll see why.”
I got on my knees on the bed and turned my head to look in the mirror. I didn’t even recognize the person staring back at me. A hot pink wig was falling off my head, glitter was scattered across my cheeks and forehead and a smear of magenta lipstick went from my lower lip to my chin.
“That’s it,” I screamed, dropping the sheet to pull the wig off with both hands. “This is just too fucking weird. Uncuff me right now.”
“Sure thing, Ms. Yelly McScream. Hand me the keys,” he said.
“I don’t have them.”
“Well, neither do I.”
“Bullshit! Where are they?” I yelled.
James winced and held his head even tighter. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t remember cuffing you in the first place, so I don’t see how it’s my fault.”
“There is absolutely no way that I am the one who handcuffed us together,” I said.
“I’m telling you, Shell, it wasn’t me.”
“You are so full of shit!”
“You think if I had the chance to get the fuck away from you that I wouldn’t take it?” James asked, his own voice rising. “I would gnaw my own arm off to get away from you right now if that was humanly possible. If I had something as simple as the key to these stupid handcuffs, I would unlock us right now and run screaming away from you.”
“Would you now?” I asked, my voice cold.
“These aren’t my cuffs, I don’t have the keys and most important of all, you have got to quit screaming, or I will drag your naked ass down the hall to Rupert’s room and see if his creepy bodyguard can hack through the chain. Is that what you want? Think that will start the marriage off right?”
I’m sure he thought that speech would shut me up, but it did the opposite. I started to babble hysterically.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God… I am supposed to get married tomorrow, and I am handcuffed to you and we don’t have the keys!”
I only paused to hyperventilate. James—the unhelpful bastard—just stared at me like I was losing my mind. Which was exactly what was happening but that’s not the point.
“I guess the bouquet could cover up the handcuffs during the ceremony, but what am I supposed to do with you? Shove you under my dress? It would take a Scarlett O’Hara hoopskirt to hide all of you.”
“I don’t think that’s a viable option,” James said cautiously.
“Did you do this to ruin my life?” I shrieked. I was sure he was behind the whole thing since he was so calm.
“Shell, I’m telling you that I didn’t do this. If you want to marry Rupert, then I’m not going to do anything to get in your way.”
James looked sincere. He really did. But I couldn’t believe him. James was a player who would never change his ways. As long as he got laid, he wouldn’t care if he ruined a little thing like a wedding.
How could I have done this? What was wrong with me? I swore that I would never sleep with James again, but here I was naked and handcuffed in a hotel room while my fiancé was sleeping just a few villas away.
“How could I have cheated on Rupert like this?” I asked out loud.
“You didn’t,” James answered curtly. “There’s no way we fooled around last night.”
“I thought you said you didn’t remember anything. How do you know we didn’t have sex?” I whispered “sex” like there was someone hiding under the bed with a tape recorder.
James turned his body toward me and leaned his face close to mine. I was caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze, but I couldn’t make myself look away.
“I just know, okay,” he said.
“How?”
“I know we didn’t have sex because when I fuck a woman, she remembers it,” he practically growled. “If we had done something last night, then you would be sore, satiated and happy.”
His confidence was too much to take. What a bastard. How cocky could one man be? I tried to think of exactly the right words to tell James that he was overestimating his sexual prowess but then I thought of all our morning afters… He was right. His cock was big, and he knew just the right positions to go as deep as possible inside me. I was always deliciously sore after a night with him, tender, swollen and still tingling where he had plunged inside me over and over again.
Not only that, his stamina was unbelievable. James had never cum before I did, not once. He held off on his own pleasure until he made me scream as I climaxed, leading to some pretty long sex marathons. That was another reason I should be sore this morning if we’d had sex, but I wasn’t. I tried to surreptitiously slide my hand under the sheet to touch myself, to see if maybe I was just a little bit…
“What are you doing?” James asked, his eyes on the lump under the sheet that was my uncuffed hand.
“Me? What? Nothing,” I said, hand suddenly stone still in my lap.
“Liar. Are you about to touch yourself to check to see if you’re still tender down there?”
That was exactly what I had been about to do, but I certainly wasn’t going to admit it to him.
“That’s ridiculous! You may think you’re Super Cock or something, but we totally could have had sex last night and I wouldn’t feel anything today. You’re not that good in bed.”
“Oh really? James replied. “You didn’t cum five times the first time we slept together?”
“Oh my God, were you keeping score of how many times I had an orgasm?” I asked, then added a fake laugh.
“Yes, I was. Every goddamn one of them.”