You know,” she stammered, resenting the way her body reacted to his touch with fireworks and songbirds, “I kind of hate you sometimes.”“If that’s code for ‘I want to fuck you until I can’t walk straight’, then I kind of hate you, too.

She shouldn’t be this close to Cole, not alone, not even when she was pissed beyond belief. It was too dangerous, since she had yet to find a cure for I-hate-you-but-I-want-to-fuck-your-brains-out-itis.