I Do (Hate You) by Sienna Blake

James

The Present…

 

 

“Go put your pants on,” Shell demanded.

“Were you this bossy when you told me to take them off?” I asked.

“Wait, do you actually remember something from last night?”

“No, but I remember the time in another bridal suite when you were so hot and bothered that you practically ripped my pants off me. I guess I was just assuming. Or hoping.”

“Shut up and go find your pants,” she said, poking me in the chest with her free hand.

“Okay,” I said and got out of bed, dragging her along with me by the handcuff.

“Waaaaaait!” she squealed as she slid across the silk sheets, clutching the sheet to cover her own naked body and leaving a streak of cheek glitter in her wake.

I stopped when she was hanging upside down on the side of the bed.

“Yes?”

“You did that on purpose, you asshole,” she said, trying to right herself with just her legs as she clutched the sheet to her boobs.

“You told me to go find my pants, and I see a pile of material in the corner that looks like the jeans I had on last night. Do you want me to go get them or not? You really need to make up your mind.”

Shell spun upright and stood next to me. “Fine. Let’s go get them. I see a pile right next to them that looks like the dress I had on.”

She stumbled when her foot caught in the king-size sheet and I slid my free hand around her waist to keep her from hitting the floor. It took a second for her to get her footing back, enough time for me to notice that my hand had actually gone under her sheet and my bare hand was on her lower back and I had pulled her to me, her head buried in my chest.

I could feel her breathing get a little faster, I hoped from excitement.

She cleared her throat. “You can let me go of me now.”

I released her and we took the last few steps together and awkwardly bent over to get our ripped clothing.

“Why do you think it’s wet?” she asked.

“Another ‘fling’ in the jacuzzi?” I stepped back quickly from the look she gave me. “Too soon?”

I guess she hadn’t forgotten my “fling” comments from Talia and Logan’s bridal suite.

“I don’t need your flirting or your teasing or any crude comments right now, James. We need to figure out what happened last night, get out of these handcuffs, and make sure none of the dozens of our friends here at the hotel find us like this.”

“Oh, is that all?” I sassed. All three of those tasks seemed impossible right now.

“Actually, it’s not all. Could you put on some damn clothes?”

“I don’t think I can,” I said, holding up the shredded pile of denim that used to be my pants and the pieces of white linen that twelve hours ago had been a shirt. “You must really, really have wanted me naked last night to have ripped these clothes like this. Have you been working out? That’s not easy.”

I reached over to feel her bicep with my free hand, but she swatted it away with her cuffed one, which dragged my hand with it and it popped her chin. That made her so mad that she slapped me with her free hand which made her drop the sheet. Of course that made me stare at her perfect naked body.

“Don’t look!”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before,” I reasoned.

She grabbed the sheet and held it against her with her elbows while awkwardly slapping her hand over her eyes. “And get some clothes on, James!”

I let out a snort. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked.”

“I am getting married tomorrow. It is not okay for me to see your naked body. Or otherwise. Your clothes are obviously not usable anymore, so I will find something for you to put on. Follow me to my suitcase, please.”

Still keeping her eyes closed, Shell used her free hand to wrap the sheet around her before turning around and walking us across the room to her giant suitcase. We passed a mirror as we walked, and I saw her checking me out before her eyes came back up to my face. I wiggled my fingers at her and blew her a kiss. She rolled her eyes, then shifted her gaze to her own reflection.

“Oh no. I’m missing an earring,” she said, clearly upset.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” I said automatically.

“These were an engagement present from Rupert, and they are irreplaceable,” she said in a curt little tone that sounded exactly like Rupert.

I shrugged, wanting to insult her fiancé but knowing it would just piss her off. I mean it was really hot when Shell was mad across the room, but I thought I’d be pushing it now that I was chained to her. She pulled out a pair of shorts and a bikini halter top from her suitcase. “Okay, I’m dropping the sheet. Don’t look.”

I looked.

“I said don’t look!”

“Fine.” I turned my back to her which seemed to make her happy. She didn’t realize I was watching her reflection in the mirror as she dropped her sheet.

Fuuuuuuck, her body was stunning. She had a little bit of color on her fair skin, and I could see her tan lines, showing she must have the world’s tiniest of thong bikinis. She pulled on the top, awkwardly snaking it around our cuffed hands and then tied the top part around her neck.

She still hadn’t noticed that I was surreptitiously looking at her in the mirror. I tried to be as still as possible so I wouldn’t catch her eye. The only thing moving was my cuffed hand as she tugged it when she leaned over to pull on her shorts.

As she bent over, I saw her turn to me and check me out. Not just a little glance. She dragged her eyes over me, stopping at my legs and ass and back and shoulders, then back to my ass. Shell Skye, you can pretend not to be attracted to me all you want but you are fucking the hell out of me with your eyes right now. She glanced at my face in the mirror. I looked away before she could catch me staring but I’m sure she was wondering why I was grinning big.

As I stared at the wall and waited for her to finish, I wondered what it was about Shell that made me want her so badly. My motto had always been “Hit it and quit it.” No matter how much I wanted a woman, no matter how hot her body was or how adventurous she was in bed, after I’d had her, I lost interest.

Shell was different. I knew every part of that body, I’d licked and sucked and fucked every part too, but it just made me want her more.

She was gorgeous, had an amazing body and was a crazy, wild, adventurous lover. But so were plenty of women in my past. What made her different?

Before I could come up with an answer, Shell said, “You can turn around.”

I knew she’d picked the outfit because she could slide it over our cuffed hands, but it was cute and unique with just enough sass to draw your eye.

“That little outfit looks great on you,” I said, making her blush.

“Thank you. I designed and made it myself,” she said, looking shy all of a sudden, which was ridiculous since we were naked, handcuffed and had spent the night together doing God knows what.

“Do you make any men’s clothing?” I asked.

“Well, not exactly,” she said, holding up a colorful skirt with a bold flower pattern.

“That’s a sarong,” I said.

“Think of it as a kilt. Men wear kilts,” she replied, a devilish smile on her lips.

“This man doesn’t.”

“Today you are!”

“No. Absolutely not,” I said, taking a step back, but she stepped with me.

“Listen, we have got to get out of this room and go track down the handcuff keys or a hacksaw or something and you have got to cover up that big schlong of yours. You just have to. Your jeans are cut to ribbons, you can’t fit in my shorts and this is your only option. Just. Do. It.”

“Okay, fine,” I said. “On one condition.”

“What?” she snapped.

“You tell me how big my schlong is again.”

“It’s huge. Massive. King Kong size. Bigger than the Empire State Building,” she said, sounding bored. “Is that good enough?”

“Yup,” I said and wrapped the sarong around me, letting her tie it at the waist.

Don’t judge. If a woman tells you that you have a King Kong dick, you do whatever the hell she tells you to.