Hate Me Loving You
X-----X-----X
"We mistakenly assume that if our partners love us they will react and behave in certain ways - the ways we react and behave when we love someone." --John Gray
X-----X-----X
"Your hair…"
Sawyer arched one shapely brow, the look in his eyes clearly indicating his opinion on the subject, and the expression made her feel as though she had something ridiculous marring her features. She resisted the urge to look into a mirror.
"My hair…" He repeated slowly, almost as though he were annoyed and decidedly skeptic, "And what about my hair, Sweetness?"
Kate stared into his cobalt-blue eyes, a sense of fortitude in her own forest-green ones. "I don't like it," She stated simply, fingering the straggly golden strands of hair that dangled haphazardly over his face.
Sawyer turned his face away from her, grinning, as he chuckled—it was a guttural, masculine resonance that spilled forth all throughout the small tent in which they shared, vibrating with that alluringly deep southern drawl. His display of amusement was so evident that any passerby would've overheard it.
But Kate didn't care. Her insides purred fondly at the sound, and happily she cuddled against Sawyer's solid chest without thinking, unable to suppress the almost dreamy sigh of sensual content. This was how she wanted it—it had been how she'd wanted it the moment she'd met Sawyer, the moment she had kissed him, the moment she had fell madly in lust with the hateful redneck.
Every fleeting glance, every small brush of bare flesh they had shared, every kiss, every opportunity where she was savoring his tempting presence, had all not been enough. It was barely enough. It had never been enough. He was like a drug that one would have to consume completely to attain the full pleasure of its effect. But even as she had wanted all of him, she tried so badly to occupy herself with little things, desperate enough to amuse herself with the resident superhero doctor of the island. She had tried so badly to deny the temptation, guiltily feeding her hunger with small conversations and unassuming excuses to touch him. But it still hadn't been enough. Her addiction only grew, and she was unable to stop it, unable to keep herself from feeding and tending to her innermost desires. And she hated it—she hated that she was being controlled by something so horrible. And yet she loved it all the same, loved that she was being manipulated by something that felt sounbelievably fun.
And somehow she had known all along that she was going to find herself half-naked in Sawyer's moderately cozy little tent, embraced within the comforts of his brawny bare arms for many, many nights.
She'd never been so complete in her life.
The drug that was Sawyer the Red-necked Conman was taking its full affect. She was high, and was content at knowing that her feet would never touch the sandy floor again.
The coo that found its way through Kate's lips was new to Sawyer, and it intrigued him. He grinned faintly, the traces of alluring dimples materializing around the corners of his mouth.
"It's too long, and messy," Kate mumbled against the crook of Sawyers neck, the warmth of her breath brushing teasingly against his flesh, making the hairs at the nape of his neck jolt upright. Kate had always had that affect on him, the feeling of a dirty boy playing with innocent fire. He was always very fond of that feeling.
Just like a woman to be all tidy-like… "Mmm-hmm," He murmured tiredly, unable to retort at that point under such enthralling sensual influence from the woman. His head fell limply against the comforters behind him.
"And your smile…"
This made Sawyer lift his head off the roll of makeshift pillows almost immediately, looking down at her with his brows drawn together in rather irritated skepticism. "My smile?" He repeated, his tone just faintly hostile. "That's impossible."
Kate's expression remained matter-of-factly resolute. She nodded once, cheerfully even. "I hate it. It makes it so hard not to tackle you to the ground and just ravish you right there in public. You should stop smiling at me often in front of the others. People are going to get suspicious."
Sawyer grinned, and those alluring dimples stretched handsomely around the corners of his lips yet again. Kate kissed them helplessly, unable to resist the urge. He kissed her forehead in return, brushing his lips against the bare flesh with a lingering tenderness that made Kate's hormones shudder like a teenage schoolgirl's.
He seemed to have that affect on her, overpowering her with the slightest portrayal of sensual affection, making her feel dazed, as though his very touch was like a dizzying and wonderful drug that infected her like pebbles of gooseflesh across her delicate skin.
"Tell ya what, Freckles—I'll stop grinnin' at ya, if you start wearing shorts instead of those annoying little cargo pants. Deal?"
Kate shifted onto her side, propping herself on one elbow to look down at him in the eye. Her expression was painfully skeptic. "I don't think that it would do any good for the situation if we were both unbelievably horny." Somewhere deep inside, she was disappointed at her own words. She just doesn't know it yet, Sawyer assured himself.
He sighed theatrically, as though he had just lost something that would most certainly be sourly missed. "Depends on what you define 'good' as, Freckles." He pulled her closer to his chest suggestively, smoothing his hand down her bare back and letting his fingers pause to fiddle at the rather frilly lace of her underwear. "It'd certainly be good for me…and you…the both of us." Kate squirmed, and he withdrew obediently.
Suddenly, she chuckled, a beguiling purr that vibrated against his flesh and oozed into his ears like a beautiful spell. "Now, where was I?"
"You were countin' down the many things you hate 'bout me, Darlin'. Please, do continue," Sawyer informed with a dazed yawn.
"Oh…" Kate giggled again, and his flesh tingled impulsively at the sound. "Well, there's your sense of fashion…"
"What?" Sawyer could feel her lips grin against his neck. It was his turn to prop himself on one elbow. He stared down at her, his brows drawn together, square jaws set into another skeptic frown.
Kate looked up at him with a playful sense of supposed innocence, her smile still present, broader even. "Oh c'mon! You're the only one who's ever worn that ridiculous mustard-yellow chemise with its ugly rainbow print. I can't believe you actually stand wearing that. It's hideous!"
"You weren't complaining when you ripped it off of me last night…" Sawyer informed thoughtfully, his mouth contorting into a grimace that suspiciously resembled a rather sulky pout. But for a man of his stature—not to mention his outright rugged gorgeousness—Kate knew it was almost impossible. Bad-boys with off-the-charts sex appeal made it seem awkward to have themselves considered within the same level as cuteness.
Kate thought it was cute anyway. "Yes, well…I was just glad it was off you," she explained in a sumptuous purr, her lips slowly pulling back in a truly wicked grin, and Sawyer's boxers seemed to tighten wistfully.
"I had no choice in the damn matter, Freckles!" Sawyer explained indignantly, his pride stopping himself from kissing the younger woman with the aggressive passion that his boxers had intended for, "I'm a big man. A big man. You can't expect to find anything stylish in my size anywhere around this damn island. When's that matter to ya anyways? Ya ain't so tidy yourself—"
Go on, thought Kate with another wicked grin. Name something you don't love about me. I dare you. "You know you love the way I dress."
"Pfft! Always flaunting those supple hooters of yours in those sexy little A-tops and tight shirts. Drives me crazy I tell ya!" Sawyer concluded matter-of-factly.
"But what kind of crazy, I wonder?" Kate grinned suggestively. Sawyer could barely remain stubborn, his anger faltering at the very sight of her. Kate shook her head, dismissing the rhetorical question with a fond smile, and continued, "At any rate, that's exactly why I'm not going to wear tight little short-shorts." She laughed as Sawyer's face slumped into an expression of utter disappointment.
"I hate that you're such a wise-ass," he grumbled.
Kate smiled happily in return. "That's one thing you don't seem too fond of, yes," she agreed easily.
"There's that…and the fact that you're as stubborn as a mule," Sawyer admitted, irate.
Kate kissed his frown fondly. And when she withdrew, she concluded, "and I really, really hate that I love you so damn much, Sawyer…"
END
-----
Author's Blurb: My first ever Skate fic, and also my first fic that I've decided to post in this account. :) Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! And if this had to have a timeline, I'd say a night before the whole Sawyer-gets-a-haircut-by-Kate episode. It's a conspiracy I tell you! I bet their already knocking each other up and just make it look like their not. They're fooling everyone by pretending they hate each other and are total assholes... Hence the creation of this fic! ;D
Rayz
