More Than Hate You (More Than Words)

I want to believe she’s in the same place I am—tempted when she shouldn’t be. Hooked despite the fact it’s not smart. Willing to make a deal with even the devil to stay together a bit longer.

Sliding my free hand down her torso, I cup her hip and pull her into me, grinding against her again and swallowing her delicious gasp.

Fuck, this is getting hot fast. I’ve had sex with nameless women who don’t turn me on half as much as merely kissing Sloan. Our chemistry is insane, torquing up every nerve in my body until I’m aware of only her.

I need more.

“Baby,” I murmur, fitting my hand under her top and gliding my fingertip up her abdomen, over her ribs, up, up, until I’m reaching for her breast. “Let me make you feel so good.”

Sloan wraps firm fingers around my wrist and stops me before I cup the full weight of her in my hand. “Even if I let you tonight, where would that leave us tomorrow? I won’t surrender anything to you, not my drive, not my will, not my body. And definitely not my heart,” she vows, eyes burning. “And don’t call me baby, especially not when it’s obvious your allegiance will always be to Evan Cook.”

April 18

After a long, restless night on Sloan’s sofa, I wake to a warm spring day, turned suddenly chillier by the fact she’s barely speaking to me.

Is she mad that I kissed her last night? The way she’s avoiding my gaze, no. If I had to guess, she’s mad at herself for liking it. For almost giving in to me.

By the time we reach the office, I’m even more convinced my plan is the right one. I’m impatient as hell to finish putting it in place. So close…

As soon as we’re settled in the rented suite with coffee brewed and laptops on, she turns to me. “What’s left to analyze before you can give me your assessment? We have to start making positive changes now.”

She needs something to do. She wants to be an active part of what she hopes will be Reservoir’s recovery. But I think she also wants to make the heroic moves so that her father might finally acknowledge her contribution—and maybe even her.

I’m not ready to tell her that saving Reservoir is almost hopeless without a cash influx.

“Well, my first recommendation is to—”

Her phone rings, interrupting me. She picks it up, then visibly stiffens. “Shane is calling me.”

Her expression tells me that’s not a normal occurrence.

“I told you he’s coming for you.”

She looks tense as she rises, crosses the room, and answers. “Sloan O’Neill.”

I can’t hear the other end of the conversation, but the whole thing lasts under thirty seconds. She’s visibly pale when she finally murmurs, “Of course.”

“What did he want?” I ask once she hangs up.

“To see me in his office in ten minutes.”

My gut tightens. I have a bad feeling about this. “I’ll go with you.”

“You can’t; someone might recognize you. Besides, you don’t have any power at Reservoir.” She shakes her head, grabbing her purse and fishing out her car keys. “I need to handle this alone. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Baby…” I stand and approach her. “You’re strong. And you’re better than him.”

A worried furrow appears between her brows. Anxiousness pours off her. “With Shane, that actually works against me.”

Then she’s gone. I swear under my breath, mostly because she’s right, and watch through the window overlooking the parking lot as she climbs into her car and drives off.

Now I’m alone. I can finally call Evan and privately work out the financial details to finalize my plan.

But I hesitate. Once I do this, I won’t simply be putting everything into motion, I’ll most likely be putting the final nail in Reservoir’s coffin.

And Sloan might genuinely hate me.

It’s obvious your allegiance will always be to Evan Cook.