The Love Hater: Chapter 28

A fun and splashy bathtime is followed by Sullivan insisting on making dinner for us all again. Molly’s not even finished her dessert before the first of many yawns begin.

“She’s had a busy couple of days. Swimming with Halliday, chasing Monty around,” he says, reaching over to stroke her head. “Haven’t you, Sweetheart?”

Molly stays quiet, confirmation in itself that she’s ready to pass out.

“I’m going to take her to bed,” Sullivan says, rising from his seat at the island, before lifting her out of hers. “Stay until I’m back?”

“Sure. Good night, Molly.” I blow her a kiss, earning myself a sleepy smile over Sullivan’s shoulder as he carries her from the room.

Sullivan didn’t need to ask, it’s become our routine that I always stay, at least until Molly’s asleep, just in case he gets a work call and needs me to take over. Not that he ever has. Storytime with Molly is something he’s reluctant to hand over to me. It’s his special time with her and he wants to protect that. Something about that makes me like him even more.

Everything he does with Molly seems to make me like him more.

“Oh God. This could be a really bad idea,” I murmur as I tidy up alone, waiting for him to return.

I load the dishwasher, then wander over to the piano, running my hand along it and admiring the photo of him and Molly on top of it.

“Sinclair put it there.”

I look up as he re-enters the room. He wasn’t gone long; Molly must have gone straight to sleep.

“You don’t have many photos,” I say, more a question than an observation.

“I know.” He walks over and looks at the photograph. “After they died I took a lot down. Seeing them every day made it harder. But maybe it’s time I put some up again.”

“Maybe,” I agree.

I don’t think I’d ever be able to take the photograph of my mother down from my bedside cabinet. I love seeing her smile every day, as a reminder that I had her once. But we all deal with grief in different ways, and I can’t judge Sullivan for what he’s needed to do in order to cope with his.

He clears his throat. “You know my mother was having an affair before she died? With her childhood love.”

I don’t say anything to confirm I already knew. He doesn’t need reminding that one Google search of his name, and all of his family’s tragic past comes up for the world to read about.

“The guy came back to New York recently. I paid him a visit with my uncle and a couple of our security team.”

“You did?”

His profile is rigid as he keeps his attention fixed on the photograph and my gut twists at what that could mean.

“I didn’t hurt him, Tate. But I damn well wanted to.”

I breathe in and let it out slowly, the knots in my gut loosening in relief that he hasn’t put himself in danger of legal repercussions because of this man.

“That must have been tough. Seeing him.”

“It was. I hate him for what he did to my father. He didn’t find out about their affair until after she was gone. He’s lived with questions ever since. One’s he can never get answers to. And then this guy walks back into our lives more than two years later and churns everything up again with some flimsy story he’s concocted about their deaths. All just lies with no proof. That much was obvious when we paid him a visit. I think he just wanted to cause us all pain again out of bitterness that she was never going to leave my father for him.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sullivan’s eyes pinch at the corners, and he inhales slowly before tipping his head back and blowing out a deep sigh toward the ceiling. “Thanks, Tate.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

The question is pointless, I know it is. I can’t possibly have anything to offer, other than listening if Sullivan wishes to talk to me.

He lowers his head, his gaze capturing mine, and runs his tongue over his teeth like he’s contemplating whatever it is he’s thinking about saying.

“Go on,” I encourage.

His attention drops over my uniform, roaming over my hips and breasts.

“You could let me kiss you again.”

“You want to kiss me?”

“More than anything.”

I twist my head to one side and study him with a smile. “You ask so nicely, yet in business I know you’re a man who takes what he wants.”

He steps closer. “That’s business.”

“So what’s this?” I slowly wave my finger between our chests.

His gaze heats as he looks down at me. “This is me spending time with the woman I can’t stop thinking about… You know I can’t stop, right?” He hitches one of those sinful brows.

I search his eyes, wanting to dive into them and swim alongside every sexy husked word that leaves his lips. But a niggling part of me is still reluctant.

“Why? I’m⁠—”

“Magnificent,” he breathes, reaching up and taking hold of my chin gently, tilting it so I have to maintain eye contact with him and can’t shy away.

I wet my lips. “That’s a very specific word.”

His eyes narrow with intensity. “I feel a very specific way around you.”

He mirrors my movements, wetting his own lips slowly as he runs the pad of his thumb along my lower one.

“You don’t care who I am. You stand up to me when I’m an asshole. And you’re gentle and sweet when I’m not.” He dips his thumb inside my parted lips, just a fraction, so it grazes the tip of my tongue. “You treat my daughter like she’s precious.”

“She is,” I breathe.

“I know.” He smiles softly and I’m blindsided by how rare and beautiful he looks when he lets his guard down.

“It’s the first thing I noticed about you. Not your hair.” He tucks a strand behind my ear. “Not your eyes. Not your…” His gaze rolls down my body, drinking in my cleavage. “… not your… that’s a lie. I noticed your curves in that tight little uniform, how could I not?”

His lips curl into a hint of a smirk as a small laugh dances past my lips.

“But I only noticed. The way you spoke to Molly when you dusted that rabbit onto her drink, that’s when I looked. Really damn looked.”

A tingle runs up my spine.

“You’re so natural with her. So genuine. I didn’t want to look, Tate. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away, even if that meant…”

“Meant?” I inhale slowly as he cups my face.

“Meant letting you get close to Molly… close to me.”

“It’s natural for a father to be protective, Sullivan.”

His eyes pinch. “She saved me. She’s my reason for everything.”

“I understand.”

“And that’s another reason I can’t stop looking at you…” He dips his head and his breath fans over my lips. “Now, please, let me fucking kiss you.”

My core clenches at the deep groan of relief that leaves Sullivan’s throat when I nod my agreement. But before he can slant his lips over mine, I rise up and press mine to his, loving the way he sucks in a surprised breath as we connect.

Our kiss starts off slow and sensual, full of unspoken promises and teases of what’s to come.

I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck, inhaling the scent of his aftershave on warm skin. It’s a scent I know I’ll recognize anywhere for the rest of my life. One that’s so uniquely him—a confident sexy man who knows how to turn me inside out with pleasure.

“Tate,” he murmurs into my mouth, making my core clench with need. “Baby…”

That single word is husky and rough, weighted with desire and pure carnal need. And I know from now on I’ll melt whenever he calls me it.

He sinks into me, angling my face in his hands so he can kiss me deeply, taking his time to slide his tongue against mine until I’m practically panting into his mouth. His erection digs into my stomach, and I grind against it.

“Fuck, yeah,” he hisses, teasing my lower lip between his teeth.

He kisses me again, then pulls away with a groan, creating a gap between our bodies. His lids hood as he looks down at me.

“Sit on the stool.”

I glance at the piano stool. “That one?”

“There’s only one stool here, Tate,” he rasps, hitching a brow. “Sit. On. It.”

I perch on the cool buttoned leather cushion and look at him as he tilts my chin up and leans down to press a lingering kiss to my mouth.

“I’ve been dreaming of having you sit here while I make you come,” he says darkly.

He drops to the floor and slides my skirt up my thighs.

“Lift,” he instructs.

I glance toward the hallway where Molly’s bedroom is. “Sull⁠—”

“I turned the monitor on. I’ll know if she gets out of bed.”

He hooks his thumbs underneath the edges of my panties.

I lift my hips for him, allowing him to slide the black lace all the way down my legs. He holds the fabric up to his face, and my wetness gleams on it.

My breath hitches as Sullivan extends his tongue and licks the fabric. “Fuck, Tate. Do you have any idea…” He shakes his head, balling the fabric in his hand, and turning his attention back to me.

“Any idea what?” I breathe as he pushes my skirt higher, exposing my pussy.

He presses a kiss directly to it and pauses to inhale before pressing another, longer one against me.

I whimper and part my thighs wider, needing to feel him closer.

“Any idea what you do to me?” he rasps, shoving my skirt so high that it bunches around my waist.

He slips his hands around my knees and yanks me forward on the stool.

“Wider,” he growls. “Wide enough that I can taste your cunt the way I need to.”

His words send a shot of molten heat hurtling through my veins, and I part my legs as far as I can, leaning against the piano for support.

“Fuck,” Sullivan groans as he pushes his head between my legs and licks me from my asshole to my clit.

I cry out and grab his hair. My back hits the piano keys and a deep crash of notes blare out.

“Open those eyes, Tate. You’re going to watch this.”

I peel open my heavy lids and look at him on his knees at my feet. His blue eyes spark as he holds my eyes and eats me out with rich groans, sliding his tongue over me, kissing me, and lapping up each new wave of wetness that my body creates.

He’s making me so insanely wet that my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

He grips my thighs and holds them wide, massaging the sensitive skin with his thumbs.

“Don’t you dare hold back,” he groans. “I want you to drown me in it.”

He sucks on my clit and slides two fingers inside me, curling them toward my G-spot.

I cry out, corkscrewing his hair and making him grunt.

Wet sounds echo between us as my body greedily sucks him in, his arm flexing with each thrust as he finger-fucks me until I’m gasping.

“That’s it, Baby.” He tongues my clit and squeezes the flesh on my thigh with one hand.

He groans against my soaked flesh, pushing his whole face into me and twisting it side to side as he eats me out savagely, pushing me right to my limit.

Any concerns I had over them once being referred to as ‘thunder thighs’ vanish as Sullivan looks at me like he’s a man on the edge, barely holding back from throwing me to the ground and fucking me into next year.

As if reading my thoughts, he holds my eyes and growls, “I always loved a good storm, Baby.”

I come in a sudden rush, my cry a breathy squeal as my body spasms around his fingers and a new surge of wetness spills over them.

“Fuck, so pretty when you come.”

I can’t control my expression. My forehead is bunched up tight, my mouth working out gasp after gasp, and my eyes… they’re held in place by a devilish blue gaze full of filthy intent.

“Sullivan,” I gasp, my lungs clawing in deep breaths in order to cope with the blinding pleasure that’s taken me out like a bat to the knees. “Oh my God, Sullivan.”

Notes wring out from the piano as I grip onto his hair and keep coming around his fingers. I can’t stop. It’s like one orgasm has been pushed into another, then another.

“Look at you,” Sullivan groans. “Fucking look at you.”

I jerk and fall into another ripple of needy clenches around his fingers before my orgasms begin to subside.

Sullivan keeps kissing me leisurely, over and over, murmuring about how good I taste as I catch my breath.

“That was…” I pant.

“Can you take a bit more?” His eyes swim with lust as he tongues my clit again, making a soft whimper fall from my lips.

“Y-yes.”

He slides his fingers from inside me, holding my eyes as he sucks them clean. My legs tremble, and he holds out a hand, helping me to my feet. He kisses me without warning, scrunching up a handful of my hair as he pulls me close and groans softly, filling my mouth with my own taste.

“So delicious,” he rasps, letting his lips linger over mine for a beat.

I curl my fingers around his as he leads me to the new sofa and turns to face me, pulling me into another heady kiss.

The sound of his belt buckle and zipper being undone has my thighs clenching in anticipation.

“So damn sexy,” he growls, kissing me again before dropping to the sofa and pulling me down to straddle him.

“I love your curves.” He runs his hands up my thighs and grips my hips, circling me over the straining dick that’s fighting to get out of his pants.

I bite my lower lip at how big and hard he is.

He tips his head back against the cushion, his dark gaze intent on me as I reach between us and push his pants down out of the way, freeing his cock. I rub myself up and down it, smearing it in my wetness.

“Ride me,” he whispers.

“You want me to ride you?” I whisper back, leaning in to kiss him lightly on his flushed lips, loving the way his voice has taken on a rough, pleading edge.

“Fuck, yeah. Slide down onto it, Baby.”

I hold his eyes as I position the slick head of him against me. Sullivan’s pupils dilate, and his teeth sink into his lower lip in a long hiss as I take every inch of him slowly, until I’m full and fluttering around him.

“Damn,” he rasps.

His fingers flex on my hips, and he eases me up, then pulls me back onto him with a groan. I rest my forearms on his shoulders as we work together, rocking and grinding.

“So fucking good.” He grunts, lifting his hips each time so his balls meet my skin.

“So, so good,” I agree, circling down onto him, loving the way he feels filling me.

He tears open my shirt, unhooking the front fastening of my bra.

“Damn, Baby,” he growls, watching my breasts spill free.

He pulls me to him, pinning himself between me and the sofa as he drags his tongue over each breast and kisses the swells of skin.

“Keep going,” he groans, leaving me to take over our pace.

He cups my breasts, kneading and stroking them as his mouth slides all over them, kissing, sucking, and biting.

My nipple throbs as he sucks it, and arousal runs from me and over his cock that’s buried inside me.

“Tate,” he groans. “Fuck.”

I grip his shoulders tighter, using them as an anchor so I can ride him harder. Each time I slide down, the coiling pressure in my core winds tighter.

“Sullivan, I’m going to come,” I whimper.

“Yeah, you are. I can feel your cunt getting wetter. Let me have it, Baby.”

His filthy words only make me clench harder around him.

“Good girl,” he hisses as I squeeze him.

His hands drop to my ass and his lips slide up my windpipe in rough kisses as I arch up, chasing my release.

“Fuck. Let it go. Let me feel it.”

I dig my nails into his shoulders as I come. It’s just as hard as when I came on his mouth, but this time I have more to grip onto. My body clenches around his thick length as it slides in and out of me with growing urgency.

“I can feel you coming on me, Tate. Fuck, you make me lose my goddamn mind,” Sullivan grits, his grasp moving to hold my hips with bruising force as he thrusts faster.

His entire torso stiffens and his cock swells inside me.

“Tate,” he growls, coming hard.

He drags me up and down his cock, slick heat slipping all over where we join as we both succumb to our orgasms with rough need and wring out every tiny bit of pleasure we can from them.

“Jesus.” Sullivan drops his head back against the sofa cushion, his grip softening on me.

I pant, trying to catch my breath as the corners of his lips curl. His dark lashes fan out over his hooded lids as he gazes at me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, seeming intent to just sit and look at me.

I reach up and trace one of his dark brows with the tip of one finger.

“I could say the same about you.”

“Stay,” he breathes.

“What?”

He licks his lips, eyes intent on mine. And even though his gaze is soft and filled with bliss, there’s a deadly seriousness beneath the surface.

“I want you in my bed all night.”

“What about Molly? What if she wakes up?”

“Let me worry about that,” he says.

He leans forward, capturing my lips in a soft kiss.

“Stay.”