Hate Sober Read online T.L. Smith (Love Me Duet #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Love Me Duet Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
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“What is it you really want, Gunner?”

“I want everything, Everly. You included.”

“You broke that. You can’t have me, Gunner. You broke us, and I don’t know if I want to go back to the before us either. I was blinded by you, but now I see you.”

“So poetic,” he says while stepping out of the car then coming around to my side and offering me his hand. I brush it away and get out by myself. Walking past him, I can hear his footsteps as he follows me to his house.

It will never be mine.

What was mine he took, and now I can’t ever get it back.

“I’m going to work,” I say, looking back over my shoulder and pushing the front door open. He clenches his teeth at my words and steps up the stairs fast, so his body slams into mine and he pushes me in farther, shutting the door behind him. Looking up, I have to remember to breathe, while watching his angry eyes, which were pissed off before but are now fully black. My hand goes up to touch him, but I quickly yank it back down when I realize I am not that girl anymore. I’m changing, and I am not as blind to him as I was.

“We spoke about this, Everly,” he says through clenched teeth.

I smile up at him. “No, you spoke about it. You don’t want me to work. You want me to be a good little bitch. Well, guess what?” I move closer so he can feel my breath tickling his face. “That is not going to happen.” Turning on my heel, I walk to my bedroom to change. I need to shower and get out of here. Stepping in, I see the room’s a mess, clothes are everywhere, and the bed is disheveled.

This is all very unlike him, his place is always immaculate.

Turning around to face him, he stops just behind me at the door.

There are words on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say them, I don’t know how to.

What do I say?

You, sir, are an asshole. Yeah, good words, but I also want to fuck you. But not your way, more of my way. Nope, that will never work.

Stepping away and keeping my mouth shut, I grab some clothes and step into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. Stripping and stepping under the warm water, I wash my hair as the glass shower door is pulled back and Gunner steps in. Turning to face him, I’m about to yell when I see the wound on his chest. My hand lifts to touch it when I remember he was hurt.

“I would take a thousand of these to have you back.” He says things like that, but then ruins it with other cutting words.

Dropping my hand and turning around, I tell myself not to fall for his wicked ways. It’s a trap, and he already has my heart locked up. If I’m not careful, next will be my body, but first I need to free my heart.

“Everly.” His hand touches my hip and I sigh. He hears it, but he doesn’t see the pain he causes me with his touch. I won’t allow him to see my face. The conflict within me is what is hurting me the most. The ‘I love you,’ and then the need to be set free.

It isn’t fair.

None of this is fair.

“Don’t touch me, Gunner.”

“You are my wife, Everly.”

Quickly finishing washing, I turn to face him. He’s waiting for me to speak, hope blooms in his dark eyes, and I want to squash it all just like he has done to me.

“By. Law. Only. Not in any other form. You lost the right to touch me. You lost the right to have me. You may own my last name, but you don’t own me, Gunner Reid.” I step out and he makes no move to touch me.

“If I can’t have you, then I’ll have to have someone else.”

Wrapping the towel around my body, I smile. It’s forced, but I put on a good show when I look back at him, even when everything inside me is cracking apart.

“You do that. Just don’t think you will ever be touching me again if you do.”

“I can force you, Everly. I know you will love it.”

“You do that then, Gunner. But remember, if you do, it was you who ruined me. It was you who didn’t care for me, and it was you who made me hate you.”

I step out, my hands shaking, knowing he can do just that. He could make me fuck him, and in doing so I might like it—my body, that is. Me, on the other hand, not so much. My mind won’t like it at all.

If he gave me time, instead of throwing me in the deep end and into his kinks, possibilities could have been there. But he didn’t even try. He simply tied me up and expected me to be happy about it.


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