Hate You (Rebel Ink Book 1)

Titch was like a dog with a bone after he assumed that Zach and I had slept together Sunday night. The only thing that managed to get him off my case about it in the end was telling him all about my date tonight. The second I said the words, he looked up to where Zach was most likely still hiding in his room. It was almost as if he knew something I didn’t, but I wasn’t going to ask. It was clear how Zach felt about the mistake that was Saturday night, so I decided it was best left in the past. So what it was the best sex of my life and I felt like we connected in a way I never have with anyone else? So what if he’s all I can damn well think about, even if it is because I want to throttle the arrogant motherfucker. There was never a chance we’d ever be an item, anyway. He’s the bad boy every girl wants to tame, he always has been, and I’m the good girl who for all these years managed to stay the hell away. What happened? Oh yeah, I took my Gran’s advice and decided to be a rebel. Great plan that was, thanks Gran.

I smirk to myself, pulling out a sketchbook I found in a drawer the other day when I was feeling restless. I grab a fine liner and just see where it takes me. I’ve got twenty minutes before my Uber will be here to take me to the place Christian chose for tonight. My nerves for what the night might hold has me getting ready long before necessary just to have something to do. It’s a bar and grill on the other side of town. I’d never heard of it until he texted the name to me, but having since looked it up online, I’m hoping it might be a place I return to.

By the time my phone alerts me to my approaching driver, I sit up straight and stare down at my drawing. It’s a portrait of a guy, with tattoos obviously, but it’s his back as he walks away. He’s looking over his shoulder with a pained expression on his face. Well, if that doesn’t tell me where my head’s at with regards to Zach, then I don’t know what will. Closing the book, I leave it on my coffee table and slip my feet into my shoes.

I didn’t want to look like I’d made too much effort tonight, seeing as I’m not sure I really want this to go anywhere, so after rummaging through my wardrobe for a good ten minutes, I eventually decided on a simple loose black blouse over a pair of grey skinny jeans and finished off with some heavy jewellery and my leather jacket. In an attempt to waste time, I’ve curled my hair and pulled the front section back from my face.

I look in my hall mirror before leaving the flat, and my heart drops a little that I’m not going to find Zach waiting for me at the bar.

Giving myself a talking to, I pull the door open and embark on whatever tonight is going to bring me.

Christian is waiting outside the entrance when I arrive, wearing a black, long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. I’m glad he’s not made any more effort than I have. It settles something inside me. Not that he really needs to dress up. He’s hot, and I already have enough knowledge of his body to know that what’s hiding beneath those clothes is pretty insane too. So why doesn’t he give me the butterflies?

“Biff, you look stunning, as always,” he says, reaching for me and pulling me into him so he can kiss my cheek. A much more gentlemanly move than any he did on Saturday night, that’s for sure.

“I’m so sorry about the other night,” Christian says with a wince once we’re shown to our table and handed menus. “It’s not exactly how I usually tell a woman I’m dating what I do for a living.”

We’re dating?

“Oh… um… It’s fine. I guess it’s better to have it all out in the open.” My cheeks flame at my choice of words. “Shit,” I mutter, covering my eyes with my hand. Could this be any more awkward?

“Still, I hope you enjoyed yourself. I mean, it got you here.” He looks a little smug as he sits back in his seat and runs his eyes over what he can see of me.

“Yeah, I mean, you were good, don’t get me wrong, but—”

“But?” he asks, leaning his elbows on the table like I’m about to give him some serious pointers to up his game.

“It was probably the most mortifying thing I’ve ever experienced. I was saving the bride-to-be. Trust me when I say it’s not the way I usually spend my Saturday nights.”

“Good to know that I was your first.” He winks, and I quietly groan, needing to move on from this mortifying conversation.

“So…” I scramble for something to change the subject to. “I thought you worked at Ted’s.”

“I do, I pick up shifts there when I have free nights.”

“Oh, okay.” I nod, an awkward silence descending over us. We both look down at our menus, pretending that it doesn’t exist. Or at least I’m hoping that’s what he’s doing too.

The waiter thankfully comes over and breaks the weird tension that’s formed.

“So what is it you do?”

Not really wanting to talk about Rebel Ink or anything to do with Zach, I focus on the other part of my life. “I’m currently studying for a Masters degree in fine art.”

“Oh nice, so you can draw? Paint?”

“Yeah, both really. I’m not sure what I’m going to do once it’s finished, but it’s fun for now. I enjoy it.”

“That’s good. Um…”

I knew I should have turned him down on this date. A little voice inside me was screaming that it wasn’t going to go well when he rang and asked. I’m only here because in my head I know it’ll piss Zach off. Not that he even knows about it. Actually, that’s probably not true because Titch will have made sure to tell him.

“This wedding on Saturday. You said you were going to give me the details.”

“Oh right. I mean, don’t feel like you need to come just because I mentioned it,” I ramble in the hope he might change his mind.

“I wouldn’t want to leave you without a date. I’ve got no work for Saturday right now, so your offer is as good as any. Plus you mentioned a free bar, right?”

“Yep.”

“Tell me more then.”

I rattle off all the details about the hotel the entire day is being held in, and he agrees that he’ll pick me up so we can travel together. If it weren’t for knowing that Zach’s going to be there, then I might have told him not to bother, but my need for revenge keeps me moving forward with the plan. He needs to know that I know who he is and what secrets he’s keeping.

“I hope they’ve booked a decent DJ. The last few weddings I’ve been to have been horrendous.”

“Well, actually…” I rattle off the guy’s name that Harrison and Summer have booked, and Christian’s eyes light up. By the time our dinner comes it seems we’ve found at least one thing in common: our music taste. That conversation lasts us through to dessert.

“Do you fancy going to see a band I know? They’re playing down in Camden tonight.”

If he’d have asked me this during the first thirty minutes of this ‘date’ then I’d have quite adamantly said no, but things have most definitely turned around so I find myself agreeing and sliding from the booth after he insists on paying.

Unbelievably, by the time our Uber pulls up outside my building sometime before two AM, I’ve actually had a really great night with Christian. The band he took me to see were incredible, and he even introduced me to them once they’d finished their set and we sat together drinking until about twenty minutes ago when we called it a night.

“Thanks for tonight. It’s been fun,” I say, looking over to find him already staring at me. My stomach twists. I hope he’s not expecting an invite up to my flat. We might have had a good time together, but one mistake in the bedroom in a week is enough for me.

“It has. So…” he trails off, as if that invite is going to come next.

I ignore the slight disappointment that darkens his eyes when I say something completely different. “So you’ll pick me up at ten thirty on Saturday, right?” The service is at eleven thirty, so that should get us there in plenty of time. Danni has tried convincing me to get a room and stay the Friday night as well as the Saturday, but the second I discovered I was working for Zach, I point-blank refused. Saturday night was always going to be harder to get out of, but as it turns out, I want to be there to watch the fireworks.

“Oh yeah, right.”

“I’m staying the night at the hotel, sharing with my friend,” I add before any other idea enters his head. It’s a lie—we have separate rooms booked—but he doesn’t need to know that. “So you’ll need to get yourself home. Is that okay? I can pay for your car.”

“Oh no, t-that’s totally fine. I’ll see you Saturday then.” His eyes bounce between mine and my lips, but I’m not going there. My head’s already messed up with one man who shouldn’t be up there. I don’t need two duelling.

I say a goodbye, step from the car and give a little wave. I don’t need him walking me up to my door, that’s for sure.

I pull my phone from my bag as I climb the stairs. I’d told Danni about meeting Christian tonight, so I already know I’ve got at least one message sitting on it, asking how it went and if I got lucky. When I wake it up, I find I’ve actually got five messages, although when I open them, there’s only one asking about my date. The other four are inappropriate gifs.

I’m busy replying and digging around in the bottom of my bag for my keys, so I don’t bother looking up when I get to my flat. I’m very quick to do so, however, when instead of coming to a stop in front of my door, I crash straight into a very hard and very warm body.

“Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I scream, his hands gripping my upper arms to steady me as my phone goes skidding across the tiled floor, probably shattering into a million pieces. I narrow my eyes at him, waiting for him to explain himself. My breath catches at the dark and haunted look in his eyes, but I refuse to say any more until I know why he’s waiting here for me like a fucking stalker.

I don’t have to wait much longer, because his hand finds the back of my head and his lips slam down on my own. His tongue is almost instantly in my mouth, searching out mine and demanding it joins in.

My back hits the doorframe as he takes the keys from my hands and fumbles about for the lock. At no point does he take his lips from mine, yet somehow he manages to find the right key and open the door.

He begins to guide me inside with his hands on my waist and his dark blue eyes boring down into mine, rendering me speechless and not allowing me a chance to think properly. He bends down at the last minute and retrieves my phone from the floor before dropping it into my bag. Then his focus is purely on me once again.

The front door slams closed as he kicks it shut, both his hands sliding up my body, pushing my jacket off. It lands on the floor with a thud, and he continues until his fingers twist in my hair and tug, allowing him the access to my neck he wants. He bites on the exact spot he did before, and a bolt of heat heads straight for my core. My stomach summersaults in a way it’s not done all night while I’ve been with Christian, making it even more obvious that there’s nothing between us. Nothing like this, anyway.

“Oh god,” I whimper when he palms my breast and pinches my nipple through the fabric.

My breaths come out in needy pants as his hands roam, desperate to find some skin. He backs us into the kitchen, and as my back hits the counter, his fingers slip under my blouse, finding the heated skin of my stomach.

“Arms up,” he groans in my ears, and I’m powerless but to do as he says.

The fabric is gone and on the floor in a flash, as is my bra not a second later. My breasts are heavy as they’re released, but he takes their weight, sucking one nipple and then the other into his mouth, his eyes on mine the entire time.

I somehow manage to find some sense in all this madness. “We shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be here.”

“And you shouldn’t have been on a date.” His lips trail down my stomach until he’s on his haunches in front of me. He makes quick work of popping open my jeans and pulling both them and my knickers off my legs. My shoes come off too and drop to the floor with a bang.

“Fuck, I need you on my tongue.”

“Oh god. Oh god,” I chant as he runs his finger through my wetness.

“I think we’ve already determined that I’m not him.”

“T-that’s right, You’re… you’re the fucking devil.”

The smirk he graces me with tells me that he fucking loves it too. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Tell me, Kitten. Was it him that made you this wet? Or was it me?”

The temptation to lie is high, but when I open my mouth the truth falls out. “You. Only you.”

“Right answer, Pussy Cat.”

He lifts me so I’m sitting on my counter. The cold marble bites into my arse, but the warmth of his hands brushing down my thighs is a welcome distraction.

“Lie back.” I do as he instructs and wince when my back hits the cold.

He parts my legs and blows a stream of air against my exposed centre. I shudder from that alone.

“It’s only been three days, Kitten. You that desperate for me already?”

“Zach, please,” I beg, desperate to feel him against me once again. “I need your mouth on me now.” A part of me thinks he’s just come to punish me and that he’ll leave without ever really touching me, but thankfully I’m wrong because the tip of his tongue connects with me and I cry out in delight as his teeth graze over my clit.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I cry, my hands finding his hair and dragging him closer.

He eats at me like a man possessed, licking, sucking and biting like he’s been starved of me. My back arches against the counter as I get closer and closer to my release.

Sliding two fingers deep inside me, he stretches me open and finds my g-spot. He teases it relentlessly with his fingertips while assaulting my clit with his tongue and teeth. In seconds I’m racing towards the light as it begins to flash behind my eyes.

“Zach, fuck. Zach, Zach, Zach,” I cry, my release crashing into me, halting my breaths and pulling every single one of my muscles tight as I fly. “Fuuuuuuk,” I groan as my body convulses beneath his touch.

My skin’s covered in a sheen of sweat and my lungs push out ragged breaths as I come down from the high. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Zach stands, a smug as fuck smirk on his face, but I’m so dazed that I don’t give about shit how proud he is right now. All I know is that I need more. That might have been earth-shattering, but it was only the starter. I can see that in his eyes.

His hands go to his fly and in seconds he’s got his hard cock in his hand. He strokes a few times, the muscles in his neck straining with his need to push inside me. The sight of how much he needs me right now makes me feel more empowered than I think I ever have.

I bite down on my bottom lip as I watch him, wondering what’s keeping him.

“What’s wrong? Changed your mind?” I tilt my head to the side, taunting him. He’s standing there fully dressed while I’m stripped bare on my kitchen worktop, yet right now I feel like the one with all the power.

“Never.” He thrusts forward and fills me. I cry out at the invasion and he stills to give me a second before dragging my arse over the edge of the counter, pulling almost all the way out, and slamming back into me.

He’s so deep. So fucking deep it makes my head spin.

“Fuck,” he grunts, feeling it too.

His fingers dig into the flesh of my arse, and the sting of pain tells me that I’ll have his prints bruised there in the morning. A reminder of yet another mistake when it comes to this infuriating man between my legs.

Sweat beads his brow as he continues to fuck me into oblivion. The finesse he showed the other night has long gone. He’s just a frenzy of thrusts and grunts as he pushes us both towards the releases we need.

“Come, Kitten,” he demands. “Come. Now.” My muscles contract on cue as he roars his release, his cock twitching deep inside me, leaving me full of his seed.

Almost immediately he pulls out of me and slides my body so my arse is back on the counter. His palms land either side of my thighs and he hangs his head, his eyes squeezed shut tightly.

“Zach?” I ask softly, running my fingers through the hair that’s fallen onto his brow.

“Don’t,” he barks, backing away and looking anywhere but at me.

“Zach,” I warn, knowing what’s about to happen but ready to beg it doesn’t, even though I know it’s probably the wrong thing to do.

“You’re mine, Pussy Cat. You need to remember that.” With that warning hanging heavy in the air, he storms from my flat.

The slam from the door makes my body jolt. Pushing myself up, I look around, trying to make sense of what just happened.

He knew I had a date. He waited for me to get home and fucked me like an animal, claiming that I’m his, yet he doesn’t want me. Not really.

I sit there for the longest time in a puddle of our own making before I eventually drag my aching body towards my shower to once again wash the scent of him from my skin.