Love and Hate

Monique Alexander is ripping into her lawyer, voice raw, company on the line. Lose the business, lose everything. Quinn Wilde steps inside the door. The lawyer’s still stammering excuses on the receiver; Monique slams it down mid-sentence. She rounds on Quinn, teeth bared. Quinn asks for quiet. Wrong answer. Monique lunges, fingers digging into Quinn’s shoulders, shoving, holding, desperate for control. Quinn shoves back. They slam into the couch in a twisting knot of limbs. Monique snaps, drives her mouth over Quinn’s before she can think. The kiss is all heat and panic. Quinn shoves her away, demands an answer, gets none. Then their mouths crash together again. Clothes shred. Hands claw. Hate and want tangle until breathing stops making sense. Both women hiss the same words—I hate you—against wet lips, then fuck like they’re starving and forgiveness might be in the climax. Business survives. Fury burns out. Nothing’s settled except the ache between their legs.