If You Hate Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

“I’d like to say I can’t believe you’re wearing that tonight, but it seems fitting, considering the crowd,” Hammer says.

We’re in Vancouver for an away game. Tristan wanted to fly me out, and I convinced the girls to make a trip of it since the game falls on a Saturday. And it means I get in an unexpected visit with Essie right before the holidays—like a pre-holiday gift.

“You know what they say… If it looks like a bunny, and it dresses like a bunny, and it acts like a bunny…”

“It is a bunny?” Tally says.

Essie’s eyes light up. “He has to fuck you like a bunny.”

“Oh, shit,” Hemi laughs.

“That’s actually genius,” Hammer says.

“I must try this.” Shilpa’s eyes are alight with excitement. “You are opening my eyes to the possibilities.”

“Get ready for some fun times in the bedroom.” I pat her arm.

“Why would you want to be a bunny when you’re Tristan’s girlfriend, and he’s totally in love with you?” Tally asks. Bless her sweet, untainted heart.

“Because sometimes it’s fun to shake things up, and he’ll have to behave himself while we’re out. It’ll be a win-win all the way around. No matter what, we’ll have victory or consolation sexy times.”

“Relationships mystify me.” Tally sips her giant soda.

While it’s typical for me to wear a jersey with STILES and number 44 on the back, it’s unusual for me to have turned that jersey into a dress with a low-cut V neck. I also don’t usually wear thigh-high boots with ridiculous heels. Outfits like these are reserved for the bunnies who attend games and compulsively troll the players’ social media accounts, hoping to figure out what bar they’re going to after. I’ve seen plenty of altered jerseys. I’ve also never forgotten Tristan’s and Flip’s comments before we started hate-fucking each other about how Vancouver has the best bunnies.

Am I secure in my relationship? Absolutely. Tristan worships me. I also know what riles him up.

We have seats at center ice behind the visitors bench tonight, and we get settled as the teams take the ice to warm up. A few minutes in, Tristan comes over to take a drink from his water bottle. When his gaze lands on me, he tips his chin up, like he’s asking me to stand. Which I don’t do because the cameras have caught us interacting and suddenly, we have their attention, as well as what feels like that of the entire arena. But not for long since I’m wearing a Toronto jersey and we’re in Vancouver.

It isn’t until later, when the team files onto the bench, that he’s able to get a load of my outfit, or lack thereof. He gives me a devilish smirk.

“Oh, you are in for it tonight,” Hammer snickers. “It’s a good thing he booked his own room or Flip would be sleeping on my dad’s couch.”

As soon as I agreed to come for the weekend, Tristan booked us a suite in the hotel. It’s ridiculously lavish and has its own separate bathroom and living room. Essie stayed with me last night, and Hemi, Hammer, and Tally have two other rooms on the same floor. Ashish obviously got a room for him and Shilpa. Hopefully they have a fun night, too. Essie’s original plan was to go home tonight, but we convinced her to bring an overnight bag.

It’s an incredible game, and much to Vancouver’s dismay and Toronto’s delight, Tristan scores a goal in the first five minutes of play. After that, Toronto keeps the lead all the way through. At the beginning of the third period, Hollis is on the ice, and Tristan is on the bench. Thirty seconds into his shift, he gets checked into the boards and they pull him from the game, sending Tristan back in. Vancouver gets a two-minute penalty, giving Toronto a power-play advantage.

“I don’t think Hollis will be back on the ice tonight,” Hammer says.

“Yeah, that was a dirty hit,” I agree.

We’ve been waiting for another team to use last season’s injury against him. Hopefully, the trainers are being extra cautious and he’s fine. The power play works to Toronto’s advantage, and Tristan manages an assist while Flip scores a goal in the first minute. They almost score again, but Vancouver’s defense finally wakes up and starts playing. Still, we win five-three, which is amazing.

As expected, we end up at the hotel lobby bar—the location is intentional, even if it means the place is packed with people. Tally can’t join us at a regular bar or nightclub, and we don’t want her to be left out of the festivities. Here she has the entire team and us to watch out for her.

“Nineteen feels really far away.” She sips her mocktail.

“Eighteen is around the corner.” Hemi gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“A kid in my school can get fake IDs,” she says wistfully.

“The headline on that one wouldn’t be the best,” Hemi replies.

“Or the paperwork for me,” Shilpa adds.

“Yeah. I know. A girl can dream, though.” She sighs.

The team shows up soon after, and with them, a ridiculous number of thirsty bunnies.

Tristan makes a beeline for our table, his gaze electric in a way I feel between my legs. He’s wearing a charcoal gray suit with a team tie. He looks entirely too fuckable for his own good. This is the third in a stretch of four away games. While regular video calls and mutual self-gratification sessions help ease the sting of separation, flying out here has helped quell the ache of his absence.

I don’t have a chance to exit the booth before he reaches me. He cups my cheek for a moment, thumb skimming my chin as he adjusts his palm and it comes to rest against my throat. He leans in and brushes his nose against mine. “I’m going to do filthy things to you later.”

“I missed you, too.”

“This outfit is drawing way too much attention,” he grinds out.

I grin. “That was the plan.”

“Figured as much. I’m guessing you won’t let me take you up to the room now.”

My smile widens. “It’s like you know me.”

“Game fucking on, Bea.” He slants his mouth over mine and gives me a panty-melting kiss.

“Geez, get a room,” Hemi mutters.

“That’s borderline obscene,” Hammer observes.

“No one’s ever kissed me like that,” Tally whispers.

“I am learning all the things,” Shilpa declares.

“Who wants to place bets that their next-door neighbors will be calling in a noise complaint tonight?” Essie says.

“Better yet, they call the police because they think someone is being murdered,” Hemi adds.

“Oh, yeah, that’s totally possible. I’ve heard them from the hallway before,” Hammer says.

Tristan tears his mouth from mine and smirks. “Bea can be vocal.”

“This is true,” Hammer agrees.

“You sure you don’t want to come upstairs now? I’ll go easier on you later if you let me take the edge off now,” Tristan whispers.

“I’ll take my chances,” I murmur.

“You get the flowers I left for you?” he asks.

I nod. “And the veggie basket and cake.”

“Good. I’ll be back for you later.” He releases me and nods at the girls. “Ladies.”

They all say hello, and then he heads to the bar.

“Every interaction is like extended foreplay for you two, isn’t it?” Hammer observes.

I sip my drink and ogle him from across the room. “We haven’t seen each other in almost a week.”

“You’re kind of couple goals. I want to find someone who wants me with the same intensity as he wants you,” Essie says.

“He’s definitely good for my ego,” I reply.

Flip stops by our table. “What’s up with the outfit?”

The girls snicker.

“Just trying to blend in.”

He gives me a confused look. “Pretty sure it’s having the opposite effect.” He scans the table. “Anyone need anything?” His gaze lands on Tally’s empty glass. “Tals, you want another Coke?”

Her eyes flare, and she ducks her head as her cheeks flush. “I’m okay. Thanks, though.”

“All right. You girls stay out of trouble.” He heads for a table full of players, including a couple of rookies.

“Seems like he’s mostly over what happened the other week, eh?” Hammer muses.

“What happened the other week?” Hemi asks.

Hammer’s eyes go wide. “Shit, sorry.”

I wave off her apology. “It’s fine. I stayed over at Tristan’s, and we thought Flip wasn’t coming home. He walked in when things were happening. On the kitchen counter.”

“Cucumber-salad things?” Tally asks on a whisper.

“Seriously. Hell is going to have a special place for us in it.” Hemi sighs.

“I enjoy cucumber salad,” Shilpa says.

Essie laughs.

Tally’s cheeks flush, but she’s grinning.

I shrug. “Sort of serves him right for all the times I had to listen to him boning randoms while I was living there.”

“Truth.” Essie clinks her glass against mine.

“It worked out the way you needed it to, anyway,” Hammer adds.

“Exactly.”

The day after that happened, Tristan started looking at condos in my neighborhood. There was a penthouse for sale in the building across the street. He set up a walk-through and put an offer in. He moves in the new year, and Flip will take over the mortgage for the current condo. The increased revenue from his investments will more than cover what Tristan used to pay each month.

It means we’ll have much-needed privacy, and he can fuck me with cucumbers any damn time he wants.

An hour later, I have to use the bathroom. On my way back to the table, I run into Tristan.

He wraps his arms around me and drops his head, nose pressed into my hair, lips ghosting the column of my throat until they brush my ear. “You do realize the longer you make me wait to get you up to the room, the longer I’ll make you wait for an orgasm, right?”

“I love it when you threaten me with a good time.”

“Tell the girls you need to call it a night, and I won’t keep you on the edge the way you’ve done me for the past two hours.”

“Just let me say good night.”

He narrows his eyes.

I pat his chest. “I’ll be back in five.”

I hug all the girls good night. Hammer’s gone to grab a round of drinks. I spot her at the bar, getting chatted up by some random guy. She flips her hair over her shoulder.

“Check it out,” I say to Hemi.

She follows my gaze. “Roman went up to his room ten minutes ago.”

“What about Hollis? Is he still here to play bodyguard?” I ask.

We scan the bar together.

“There he is, nine o’clock.” Hemi tips her chin in his direction.

He’s standing with Dallas, Ashish, and Shilpa.

I head back to Tristan, who’s leaning casually against the bar. But his gaze is all fiery promises.

He tips his chin at Dallas, Ashish, and Shilpa as we pass.

Hollis isn’t with them anymore. I assume he’s gone to manage the situation with Hammer and the flirty guy. But she’s still talking to him—she’s only half paying attention to what he’s saying, though. I follow her gaze to the elevators, where Hollis is. The doors open, but before he steps over the threshold he glances back. I swear, for a second, a hint of longing crosses his face. Then he disappears inside the elevator, and the doors close behind him.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?” Tristan asks.

“Nothing. Never mind. Let’s go up to the room so you can make me regret wearing this.”

Two guys join us in the elevator, and Tristan slings his arm over my shoulder and pulls me in close. He kisses my temple. They get off on the twelfth floor. We’re on the fifty-third. As soon as we’re alone, he presses me against the mirrored wall. One hand circles my throat, the other finds its way between my legs.

His eyes flare when he skims bare flesh. “Where are your panties?”

“My purse.”

He withdraws his hand and holds it out. “Give them to me.”

I retrieve them and drop them into his open palm.

He rubs the crotch between his fingers. “They’re soaked. Did you take care of yourself in the bathroom? I’ll know if you’re lying,” he warns.

I shake my head.

He glances above the doors. We have twenty floors to go. He lifts the hem of my jersey dress and edges a foot between mine, widening my stance. Tristan drags a single finger up the inside of my right thigh, then brings it to his lips and licks the pad. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re dripping wet. Does the idea of getting fucked like a naughty little bunny excite you?”

I bite my lip and nod.

We’re at the fortieth floor now.

“We should stop the leak before you make a mess all over the elevator floor.”

For a second, I’m confused, until he drags my damp panties up the inside of my thigh, then pushes them inside me.

“Oh my fucking God,” I whisper-moan.

His lip curls in a salacious smile as he fills me with my panties. The elevator dings our arrival at the fifty-third floor as he tucks away the last of the fabric and pulls my dress back into place. He laces our fingers, and we stroll leisurely down the hall.

I’m vibrating with anticipation.

The second we’re inside the room, Tristan pins me against the door. His mouth covers mine in a searing kiss, and I try to hook one of my legs around his.

“You think I’m going to let you rub that greedy pussy of yours all over my thigh?” His nose brushes mine as he traps my legs between his. He pushes his hips into me, his erection pressed against my stomach.

I groan as I grip his hair and try to pull his mouth back to mine. He tips his chin up and looks down at me through hooded lids. “Get my cock out.”

I abandon his hair and find his belt. With shaking hands, I free the clasp, pop the button, and drag the zipper down. Tristan makes a deep, needy sound when I slide my hand into his boxer briefs and wrap my fingers around his erection. I free it from the black fabric and stroke from base to tip.

He steps back and arches a brow. “It’s not going to suck itself, is it?”

I drop to my knees on the plush carpet and lick up the length, then cover the head with my lips, running my tongue around the crown, sliding over the weeping slit at the tip.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts.

I pop off long enough to ask, “Am I the best bunny?” Then wrap my lips around him and roll my tongue around the head.

He pulls me off long enough to ask, “Is that what you want? For me to treat you like a bunny?”

“Your only bunny,” I clarify.

“I fucking love you, Bea. More than anything,” he declares.

“I love you, too. But tonight, I want you to fuck me like a toy.”

He blinks a couple of times. Blows out a long breath. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“You know my limits,” I assure him.

And he does. Every time, he pushes me right to the edge, and I love every freaking minute of it. I want to drop a hand between my thighs and rub my clit, but I know if I do, I’ll be delaying my release. Instead, I grip his base and cup his balls in my other hand as I bob up and down on his cock. I hum and moan and make loud slurping sounds. When I pop off, I spit on the head and rub it over my lips before I take him into my mouth again, deeper with every pass.

He gathers my hair in his hands and wraps it around his fist. His other palm settles against the soft space under my chin and tips it up. “You gonna take it all like a good little bunny?”

I make an affirmative sound, and he holds my head still, hips pulling back and snapping forward. The head hits the back of my throat, and I gag. I grip my thighs, determined not to grab his in a wordless request to temper his pace. He pulls back and gives me a moment to find my composure and my breath. And then he thrusts again. This time I’m ready.

“That’s it. So fucking good.” His thumb sweeps along the contour of my bottom lip.

He finds a rhythm, holding my head in place while he fucks my mouth, and I moan around his cock, make all the noises I know he loves, drooling all over him. When he comes, I swallow it down. Spit runs down my chin and my neck. My eyes are watering, and I’m on edge and desperate for release, but aware I’ll get it when he’s ready to give it.

He bends to kiss me. It’s sloppy and wet, but he doesn’t seem to care. “You okay with hard and dirty?” he asks.

“Yes, please,” I whisper.

“Such a sweet little bunny, aren’t you?”

A moment later, I’m on my back on the plush carpet in the middle of the living room. From where I’m lying, I can see the roses he had sent to the room for my arrival. My knees end up at my chest, and he licks up the length of me and latches onto my clit. I almost lose my mind at the sensation of it all. Every time I think I’m about to tip over the edge, he stops. And then starts the same torment over again. My panties are still tucked inside me.

He latches back onto my clit, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, and at the same time, he eases a finger inside. He hooks the lacy fabric and tugs as he sucks, and I go careening over the edge into bliss. As I’m coming down from the high, he shoves his fingers into my mouth and pulls my panties free with his teeth. He drops them on the carpet and replaces them with his fingers, making the orgasm feel endless.

He flips me over on my stomach and brackets my legs with his. My cheek is pressed against the plush carpet.

He kisses my temple and orders, “Open.”

I part my lips, and my panties end up in my mouth. And then he slides into me.

I’m so fucking wet. And already coming again. He slips his palm under my cheek so I don’t end up with rug burn on my face and fucks me into the floor. My nipples scrape the carpet, and I taste my own desire as I moan around my panties. As far as dirty fucks go, this absolutely takes the cake.

“I love you.” His lips brush my cheek. “So fucking much.”

I make a noise around my panties.

He pulls them free so I can speak.

“I love you, too.”

On the next thrust, he pulls back, flips me over, and fills me again.

When I come this time, it’s with his eyes on mine, his hands framing my face, and his love for me a mantra on his lips.