I Swear I Still Hate Him (Atlas Lawson) novel Chapter 99

Chapter 99

Emery’s POV

It was a freaking miracle I didn’t wake up with a hangover from hell. Just a dull throb in the back of my head, not enough to ruin my life, but definitely enough to remind me I was a little too friendly with tequila last night.

The only issue?

I couldn’t remember most of it.

Bits and pieces floated in my brain like puzzle pieces I hadn’t clicked together yet. I remembered my girls. Laughter. Singing One Direction at the top of our lungs. And…

I froze.

That warmth. That heat. That very-much-not-a-body-pillow arm currently wrapped tightly around my waist.

Oh. My. God.

I felt his chest pressed against my back, his steady breathing brushing my shoulder, and before I could stop myself, before logic or dignity could step in, my stupid cheeks stretched into a smile so big I could’ve split my face.

Why the hell are you smiling like an idiot?

Ugh. I had no self-control. Zero.

Still, I risked a peek over my shoulder.

Atlas.

Eyes still shut, lashes far too long for a man (seriously, rude), nose sharp and perfect, lips parted just enough to make my heart stutter. His stubble had grown out overnight, peppering his jaw and making him look so damn good I forgot how to blink.

Beard Atlas… now that was a dangerous thought.

My eyes wandered lower, his bare chest rising and falling slowly, and yeah, there was no saving me.

“I can feel you staring,” he murmured, voice low and raspy from sleep, the kind of voice that could make a girl give up all her brain cells.

I blinked. “I wasn’t…”

“What were you thinking about?” he asked, still not opening his eyes.

I swallowed. “How sexy you’d look with a beard.”

I

That got one eye open. He raised a brow lazily, smirking. “Oh, really? Should I grow one?”

I tilted my head like I was considering it, but internally I was spiraling. A bearded Atlas would be like… illegal levels of hot. The kind of hot that would have girls, and probably professors, falling all over him.

Yeah. Absolutely not.

“Hmm… maybe someday. Like when you’re a hot dad or something,” I teased. “But for now, I like you like

this.”

He smirked and tugged me closer, our foreheads almost touching. “So I’m hot now?”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t act like you didn’t already know that, Narcissus.”

He leaned in, eyes dropping to my lips.

My heart full-on paused. But right before he kissed me, I panicked and slapped my hand over his mouth.

He blinked, confused. “Mmmph?”

“I haven’t freshened up yet,” I mumbled, mortified. “You do not want this morning breath smoke, trust me.”

But Atlas?

He just gave me that smug devil smile behind my hand… and then licked it.

Like, actually licked my palm.

“Dude!” I gasped, half horrified, half insanely turned on. “That’s disgusting!”

He laughed under his breath, and before I could yank my hand back, he slipped it away gently and leaned in again, this time with no hesitation. His lips brushed against mine, soft and slow, and I swear I forgot how to breathe. I sighed into the kiss like my body had been waiting for it all night. My hand found the back of his neck. His fingers slid up my spine.

And just like that, I was gone. Completely, hopelessly, kiss-drunk on Atlas freaking Lawson.

“Do you have any idea how badly you tortured me last night?” Atlas murmured, his voice thick with heat as his lips brushed along the curve of my neck.

A low sound escaped me, somewhere between a sigh and a groan. My brain? Not fully online yet.

“I… I did?” I asked, already melting into him.

“Oh wow,” he chuckled low, the vibration rumbling through me. “She doesn’t even recall.” He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his own dark and dangerous. “Emery, fuck…if I weren’t such a gentleman, I would’ve ruined you last night. Bent you over, spread you wide, fucked you so hard you’d be screaming my name into the mattress until the sun came up.”

The mental image hit me hard. My thighs clenched on instinct, the pressure doing little to ease the pleasure coursing through my body. God, I wished he hadn’t been a gentleman. I wished he’d pinned me down and

taken everything.

He eased back, breath coming out in heavy pants, eyes raking over me like he was starving. His sweats were tented obscenely, morning wood mixed with pure, barely-leashed hunger. The outline of him was so thick and obvious it made my mouth water..god, he looked hot, his jaw clenched. His eyes were dark, intense, locked on me like I was the last glass of water in a desert. He exhaled hard through his nose, then sat back a little, his gray sweatpants doing a terrible job of hiding how not chill he was.

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