The Hatefuc of a Lifetime

Author's note:

Chapter three is here! Again, thank you to everyone who commented on the first two chapters of this story. Chapter 2 was a nice little intermission, but we're back in full force, with a new character that will give Chapter 1's Sarah a run for her money. Hope you all enjoy, chapter 4 is coming soon!

~Alca out.

After a long sleep that I had needed badly, I got out of bed refreshed, showered, shaved and got ready for work. I was a little early, but nobody seemed to take notice as I sat down and hooked up my notebook. I sat back as it booted up and couldn't help but smile. Whatever happened, not much would be able to wipe that stupid, smug grin from my face for a while to come. Unfortunately, unlike my early arrival this morning, the look on my face did not go unnoticed. I was woken up from an interesting daydream by a silky voice coming from the other side of my desk.

"Looks like someone had an interesting weekend."

I tried and failed miserably not to let the sudden shock show on my face. Standing right in front of my desk, with the stealth skills of an experienced ninja, was none other than Chelsea. Or, as some of my less subtle and immature colleagues liked to call her, the office hottie. While I was no fan of the misogynistic tendencies these colleagues would display out of earshot of HR and their superiors, I had to begrudgingly admit they made a good and even understated point. Chelsea was an office hottie if there ever was one, her tight pencil skirt and tidy blouse doing nothing to hide her killer figure, maintained by countless hours of dedication and hard work in the gym and complimented by a beautiful face with a gorgeous smile.

Taking great care to not stare below her mouth, I nodded and replied with some confidence.

"It was pretty great, not gonna lie. How was yours?"

She smiled, it was as radiant as the rest of her.

"From how you're glowing I'd say it was more than pretty great. Mine was great too, thank you for asking. So, who's the lucky lady?"

I laughed out loud, partly because of the absurdity of having this conversation with Chelsea of all people, but mostly because the question took me by surprise. Our conversations had never gone beyond the professional before apart from exchanging pleasantries. Still, she was a colleague and I didn't want to make her uncomfortable, so I replied honestly but subtly.

"Well, considering she hates my guts, I wouldn't exactly call her lucky."

At this statement, Chelsea's eyes widened almost comically and she replied immediately.

"Wait, YOU'RE the ridiculous piece of shit that has no right to be that amazing in the sack?"

Immediately, as if she'd surprised and scandalized herself with that outburst, she slapped her hand in front of her mouth and did her best not to turn bright red, failing miserably. Not that I was faring much better myself. For the third time in as many days, my jaw was hanging comically low. This time however, the coincidence was so staggering that I couldn't find the confidence to reply normally.

"Y-you know Sarah?!"

At this, Chelsea's eyes widened even more, as I had apparently confirmed the suspicion that brought on her sudden outburst. She composed herself, cleared her throat and left the office without saying another word. With my heart pounding in my chest from what was by far the weirdest exchange I had ever had in the office, I tried to forget about what happened and focus on my work, but it was next to impossible. I barely got anything done, and decided to leave as early as I had come in that morning. As I grabbed my stuff and made my way to the parking lot, I saw Chelsea walking towards me, the both of us doing our very best to not acknowledge the other's presence. It was impossible to miss the piece of crumpled paper she pushed in my hand as she passed me, however. I took it with me, held it in my hand the whole way back home and only dared to open and read it when I had parked in my driveway. The note had a phone number and a few short lines scribbled on it.

"For when Sarah is done with you, don't text me before that, never mention this in the office ever."

I stared at the piece of paper in astonishment, wondering what sort of loopy land I had entered. I saved Chelsea's number in my phone and burned the piece of paper for good measure. As she requested, I didn't text her, not even to acknowledge that I had received the information. The next few days, the both of us managed to behave professionally, neither of us acknowledging the earlier conversation had taken place, nor that her number was safely stored in my phone for a potential future booty call. I hadn't heard from Natalie since she called me out of the blue, and ever since Sarah had confirmed the place and time she expected me to be this weekend, I hadn't talked to her either. Because of this, I actually managed to get some work done and left the office on Friday feeling content.

This feeling lasted about as long as the walk to my car did, as I immediately noticed Chelsea's car parked right next to mine, the hood opened, with Chelsea herself staring at it in frustration. I looked up to the sky as if some sort of higher being would provide me with instructions on how to proceed, but of course, nothing came. As I thought about it for a few seconds, I realized that if our conversation hadn't taken place, if she hadn't given me her number, I would have offered my help, so that's what I decided to do.

"What's wrong with it?"

As she looked up and saw me, I didn't miss the mixture of panic and frustration showing on her face. Like me, she was probably thinking about the same non-existent deities I had been wondering about just a few seconds ago.

"I think it's just a dead battery, though I'm completely sure I didn't leave the lights on or anything. It's never given me trouble before."

I smiled, this was something I might actually be able to assist with, which meant I wouldn't have to leave her hanging.

"I have a set of starter cables in my trunk, want to see if we can get it to work?"

The relief was audible in both her face and her voice as she answered quickly, "Seriously? Of course you do, uhm, I mean, yeah, please, if that fixes it you're my hero! I was about to call a tow company and I was not looking forward to that bill."

I opened my trunk and dug through my stuff to find the cables, taking them out and handing them to her so I had my hands free to pop my hood.

"Let's hold off on calling me a hero until we see if this actually does the trick, I really don't want to get your hopes up."

Inwardly thanking my dad over and over for teaching me how to do this as a teen, I hooked up the cables to our batteries. As I stepped into my car to start the ignition, Chelsea did the same. She waited a few seconds before attempting, but as she twisted her key in vain half a dozen times, both of us realized this wasn't about a dead battery. Dejected, Chelsea got out of her car.

"Well, thanks for trying, but it seems like I have to call the towing company after all."

I looked at her car, a MK V VW Golf, and wondered if the fuse box was still in the same spot as it had been in my old MK III.

"Can I try one more thing before you call them?"

She looked at me, not wanting to get her hopes up again, and answered with a sigh.

"Sure, might as well give it a shot if you know something else."

I nodded and got into the driver's seat of her car, taking note of how clean it was. Unfortunately, the fuse box was not in the same spot, but a quick search on my phone provided me with the trick to open it, as well as the fuse number responsible for the ignition. I pulled it out and saw it was burned out. I checked the glove compartment, but there were no spare fuses, so I decided to take out one of the less important fuses and stuck it in the ignition slot. I pressed the brake and turned the key, and the engine sprung to life immediately.

While doing all of this, Chelsea had been looking at me curiously, wondering what I was doing to her car. She squealed in excitement when the engine turned on, throwing her arms around me and thanking me with excitement.

"How did you know that was the problem?!"

Despite myself, I grinned sheepishly.

"I used to have a MKIII with some custom extras that I built in myself and I would burn through fuses like nobody's business. I've gotten used to considering an issue with those before anything else."

She laughed at that statement, then looked at me seriously.

"Okay, but you have to let me buy you a drink after this, I can't just shake your hand and let you go home after you literally saved my night."

My eyes widened just a little bit, and I responded, "Of course you can, I'm happy to help, but I won't say no to a drink!"

As I put my jumper cables back in the trunk and we closed the hoods of our respective cars, we agreed to meet up at one of the local bars at 8PM, one we knew wasn't frequented by our co-workers. Despite our intention to platonically have a drink, neither of us wanted to spark any office gossip. Platonic intentions aside, however, I showered and put on fresh clothes before leaving. Chelsea always looked immaculate in the office, I could only imagine the effort she put in privately and I didn't want to show up looking like I came straight from the office. When I entered the bar at exactly 8PM and saw her waiting for me in one of the booths, I had to stop my jaw from dropping yet again. Instead of her pencil skirt and blouse, she had put on a form fitting emerald green dress and let her hair down in what seemed like endless waves. Her make-up looked just as subtle as it did in the office, but it still made her shine in a way I had never seen before. She would give Sarah a run for her money when it came to looks, no wonder they were apparently friends.

I made my way to the booth and gave her another friendly hug, but she surprised me by kissing me on the cheek. As we sat down and ordered the first round of drinks, a dry white wine for me and a rosé for her, I realized that I only had three possible avenues of conversation. Her car, our job, and Sarah. My first instinct was to compliment her outfit, but I didn't want her to get the idea that I thought this was a date. I stopped myself in my tracks then and there, I was overthinking again. I had gotten here by just doing what felt right, and I just had to continue doing so.

"I have to be honest, you look absolutely gorgeous, I am floored, wow."

She laughed, her loose hair accentuating her beautiful smile even more so than normal.

"I saw you try not to let your jaw drop as you came in, thank you, that's really nice of you to say! And right back at you, you always look really presentable at work, but it looks like you still went the extra mile tonight. Am I that special?"

I almost choked on my drink. Was she trying to lure me into a trap? I decided honesty was still the best policy.

"You seemed like the type to make an effort wherever she goes, which is something we have in common. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't look shabby compared to you."

She smiled sweetly while taking a sip of her wine, apparently that had been the right answer.

"Well, look at mister profiler, anything else you want to tell me about myself that you learned at first glance?"

I smirked. "Nope, just that, we haven't ever really talked beyond the professional stuff."

She nodded. "You're right, we haven't, so imagine my surprise when I learn that you don't just know my good friend Sarah, but you, how should I put it, escorted her out of a party last week. Now, I know my friend, she's going to stop hooking up with you eventually. Not because she gets bored, but because she gets too attached and she doesn't like getting attached. So, I find out that the guy she's been absolutely gushing about for days, don't tell her I said that by the way, is a colleague of mine! One of the very, very few colleagues in our backwards company that is always respectful and never says anything untoward, but from what I hear is an absolute demon in the bedroom? I got to have some of that, so I slipped him a note with my number and a courtesy request to stay professional and not text me until my friend inevitably dumps him, fully expecting him to break both those rules, but no! In fact, I had to make a conscious effort not to be flustered whenever I was around you, but you made it look fucking easy! For a minute, I thought you hadn't gotten or read the note, or that you weren't interested. You did get the note, right?"

I nodded and let her continue her speech, bewildered at how, for some reason, everything just seemed to be coming my way lately.

"You did, and you followed my request to the letter, not one attempt at flirting, not one remark, not even a wink or a nod, and not a single text. So, naturally, I call Sarah to ask what's wrong with you, and, much like I'm doing now, she goes off on a rant of her own! Would you like to know what she said?"

I smile, "Would it make a difference if I said no?"

She almost looked annoyed. "Of course not, she said you're a great guy but you're such a goddamn stickler for the rules. You're so annoyingly, obviously respectful, always seeming to be in perfect control of any situation even when by all rights you should be completely panicking, and she absolutely loathes you for it. She. Hates. Your. Guts. She can't stand you, and then you go and give her the absolute best fuck of her life, forcing her to say good things about you, great things even, she hyped you up like nobody's business, and she hated every second of it. You ruined that poor girl, absolutely ruined her. And you know what I think?"

I didn't even ask the question this time, I just gently waved for her to continue.

"I think she ruined you too. I think you weren't even consciously trying to be extra respectful of my wishes, I think you're just scared to death that you won't have another opportunity to fuck her."

At this, my smile widened as far as it could go, breaking out into a broad grin.

"You, my dear Chelsea, are absolutely dead on the money. I'm not saying I wouldn't have respected your wishes otherwise, I probably wouldn't have texted you and I would've stayed professional, but you're right, I was thinking about Sarah and not wanting to ruin my future chances the whole time."

At this, Chelsea laughed. "God, I can see why she hates you. But I'm not her, I've always been able to read other people better than she has. You are ecstatic about all the things Sarah apparently told me about you, but you're panicking about where I'm going with this, aren't you?"

I nodded.

"Good. Now that we have that cleared up, let me tell you about the real reason I asked you to have a drink with me, and why I'm really wearing this dress and spent the better part of an hour on my hair and make-up. I want you to ruin me just like you ruined Sarah, and I want you to do it tonight. I want you to take me home, your pl ace or mine, I don't care, but I want you to fuck me like you fucked her."

I looked at her, there was no humor in her face, she was absolutely serious and determined about this, it was no joke, no lure, no taunt, she wanted this. I opened my mouth but she put her hand on it before I could even utter a single syllable.

"Don't you fucking dare ask me why. Do you want me to hate you the way Sarah does? I already think you're annoying. You're not actually perfect, you're just as flawed and insecure as anyone else, but for some reason you have the ability to read and deduct situations in your head really quickly and by sheer dumb luck you make the right decision most of the time. By asking me why, you're going to force me to admit that I'm jealous, jealous of Sarah for getting fucked by a guy who knows what he's doing, who knows how to respect boundaries, who's not creepy. Admitting that is just another ego boost for you that you don't need, you have too much of an ego as it is, even though you hide it under a mask of faux innocence and modesty. And before you start thinking of reasons not to fuck me, Sarah's fine with it, she's going to fuck you again, she told me as much, and she doesn't care if you fuck me in between. We're good with sharing, and I've already tendered my resignation earlier this week, I've gotten a far better offer to work at that new tech startup two blocks away. So in three weeks we'll no longer be colleagues, but we will be fuckbuddies. Unless you think of another bullshit objection on the spot?"

I gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her soft hand away from her mouth, figuring the time for tact had long passed.

"I got nothing, you're absolutely stunning and even though I can't stand the fact that they call you the office hottie, part of the reason why is because I think it's a gross understatement of how sexy you really are. I'll go pay for the drinks now and text you my address in the meantime, see you there?"

She smirked victoriously as we both stood up and I made my way to the bar. "And here I thought I'd have to use my trump card."

I stopped in my tracks and looked back. "You had a trump card?"

Still smirking, she opened her phone and hit play on a voice note she had apparently received from Sarah before I arrived at the bar. It started playing and immediately, Sarah's voice filled the space between us.

"Listen up, you prick, I've got a spa day planned with Chelsea tomorrow, and she better tell me all about how sore she feels after you made her cum her brains out all night, or I'll never fuck you again, you got it?"

I laughed out loud, unable to help myself. "That is a horrible trump card."

At this, her eyes widened. "Really? Why? You don't like being threatened?"

I laughed, turning around to pay for the drinks as I answered with confidence. "I don't mind, but there's no way in hell she'd follow through on the threat."

She didn't reply, she just laughed and shook her head as she walked outside to her car, and I texted her the address as I paid for the drinks, only for the bartender to laugh at me as he explained Chelsea had told him to put it all on her tab before I arrived. The dumbfounded look I gave him seemed to amuse him to no end, and he wished me a good weekend as I left. As I walked outside, I saw Chelsea leaning against her car, smirking at me.

"Cheeky little minx."

She winked, "It's your fault for assuming I'd let you pay for the drinks. I told you, your ego is unchecked, you just manage to hide it really well. Luckily for you..."

As she talked, she stood up straight and made her way towards me, the sound of her heels clicking on the pavement almost drowned out by my heart pounding in my ears as she came closer and I could smell her perfume. She brought her mouth up to my ear and her hand down below my waist and softly whispered, "I really enjoy breaking an unchecked ego, and that's exactly what I'm going to do." As she whispered, her hand grabbed my package through my pants squeezing it harder with every word. "So get in your car and lead the way so I can get started on knocking you down a peg or two."

Slowly, I started to smile, with the smile soon turning into a grin. What a night, no, what a week this was turning out to be. I was still clueless how everything seemed to just come my way all of a sudden, but I was going to make the most of this. If Chelsea wanted to play this game, I was going to play it with her. Without a warning, or even giving her the slightest inclination that I noticed her squeezing my quickly hardening cock, I moved my hand down her back, her tight ass and put it on the back of her thigh. I bent down my knees a little bit to reach, then pulled her up and against me, turning around swiftly to push her back up against my car. I looked at her piercing hazel eyes, her lips just inches from mine. My grin was gone and so was hers, she looked like she was fighting the urge to bite her lip as I felt her toned legs tighten around my waist. Finally, I answered her last statement.