Hate Me or Love Me

by Ella Miles

  I throw the door open to Logan’s apartment, pissed. I spent the last few hours trapped in a world I never wanted to be in. My assistant, Ruby, thought this is what I wanted. And maybe, for a split second, I thought this was exactly what I wanted. But I was wrong. It was complete torture. And my wants have changed.

  I take a step inside and slam the door shut. I head down the hallway to find Victoria.

  Logan steps in front of me with a deep grimace, folding his arms across his chest. “What did you do?” he asks.

  “What did I do? Are you serious? This is your sister’s fault.”

  “I know my sister, and I know you. What did you do?”

  “Move, Logan.”

  “No, not until you talk to me. What happened?”

  The bedroom door cracks open, and Victoria stands there, staring at me with wide eyes and a smirk on her flawless face.

  I cock my head to the side as I look at Victoria, not Logan. “Victoria decided to make me Lily’s new boy toy by pushing me onstage to appear on national TV to discuss a nonexistent relationship with her, effectively deciding what my relationship status will be for at least a year, most likely longer, all so that she could fix Lily’s problems after our client didn’t listen to us.”

  Logan turns and looks at Victoria, who confirms my story with the light in her eyes.

  I pull out the hotel key card and hold it out to Logan. “Pack a bag, and go stay in my hotel room tonight. It’s on me.”

  Logan looks from me to Victoria.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Logan. This is your apartment. You are staying here,” Victoria says.

  I grab Logan’s arm, getting his attention again, and I press the card into the palm of his hand. “You owe me, Logan.”

  Logan frowns. “I don’t owe either of you anything. It’s more like you both owe me plenty.”

  Victoria stands next to him, pulling his attention back to her. “I’m your sister. Do what I say, and stay here. Please.”

  Logan sighs.

  “The hotel is the nicest in the city. You can bring the hottest women back to that room. They will think you are a millionaire. Please.”

  Logan ignores both of us and walks to his bedroom.

  I grab the nape of my neck in frustration.

  “Some friend you are!” I shout in his direction.

  Victoria takes the moment as a win and turns to head back to the guest bedroom. She thinks that, if Logan is here, then we won’t fight. That I’ll just let her be. But she’s very, very wrong.

  I go after her just as Logan opens the door to his bedroom with a bag over his shoulder.

  I grin.

  Victoria’s mouth drops open. “What are you doing?” she asks.

  “I’m going to stay in Carter’s hotel room.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I think you two have a lot of things to work out. I’ve been in the middle of you two for far too long, and I won’t keep doing it.”

  Logan leans toward Victoria’s ear and whispers something that I don’t hear before softly kissing her on the cheek. He glares at me as he walks past me, and then I wait until I hear the front door slam behind him before I turn my attention to Victoria. As much as Logan says that he’s not picking sides, it sure does seem like he might be picking mine from the way he gave in to my demands.

  Victoria crosses her arms and pops her hip out to one side. “Let’s hear it. I don’t have all day. I need to get to work to revamp our entire plan for Lily, and unlike you, I don’t have an assistant I can call to do all my dirty work.”

  I smirk. “Don’t blame me for doing good enough work that allows me to afford an assistant.”

  She shakes her head. “Don’t even act like you do better work than me. I saved us in there.”

  “You saved us?” I run my hand through my hair to keep from strangling her. “You have got to be kidding! You threw me out in front of the cameras because you couldn’t come up with anything better. I did all the work. I came up with the stories about Lily and me being together on the spot. I charmed the crowd. I spent all evening pretending to care about a woman. I did all of the real work.”

  “Fine. You did all of the real work. I’m just taking credit for that work. Just like you did to me earlier.”

  I hate her. But I also want her. I hate how she’s exactly like me. I don’t remember her always being like this, but I also love that she is. I’m afraid I’ve ruined her, turning her heart cold like mine, but maybe I made her that much better.

  “I want to fuck you.”

  She laughs. “I’m not fucking you.”

  I take a step forward until I can tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You sure about that? I’m pretty sure you’ve said that before, and it’s ended in me giving you the best sex of your life.”

  “It wasn’t the best sex of my life.”

  “No? Who was better?”

  Her eyes dart to the side as she thinks about it. Running names through her head, trying to come up with an answer.

  “Andrew. Andrew was better.”

  “When did you date Andrew?”

  “Two years ago.”

  “Why was he the best sex of your life?”

  I see the fight in her eyes. She’s not going to give in to me.

  “I’m not talking about my sex life with you.”

  “Because it isn’t true. I’m the best sex of your life.”

  Victoria’s face blushes bright red. “Because he loved me. That’s why he was the best sex of my life. We were in love.”

  My heart drops at her honesty. I know I’m the best sex she has ever had. Except for Andrew. Even if he was horrible in bed. Even if he had no idea how to kiss her, how to move her body, how to make her forget about everything. Even if he was horrible, he loved her, and that apparently makes all the difference.

  “Well, give me a chance to change your mind. I’m sure you gave Andrew plenty of chances.”

  Victoria walks past me to the kitchen. She opens the fridge and stares inside at the contents. She starts pulling out a carton of eggs and some bread.

  “I’m not talking to you about having sex again. A momentary lack of judgment led to it in the first place. It was just us trying to release our frustrations with each other. That’s it. We should talk about what you pretending to be Lily’s boyfriend now means.”

  She turns, and I’m standing right in her way.

  She gasps, and I grin.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, looking down at her supplies.

  “Making dinner.”

  I grab the carton of eggs and bread out of her hands. “Eggs and toast aren’t dinner. It’s barely enough food to make breakfast.”

  She snatches the food back out of my hands. “I’m not that hungry, and Logan doesn’t have much food in the fridge.”

  I grin.

  “Will you please move?” she says, clearly annoyed with me.

  “You don’t know how to cook.”

  “I do, too. I just don’t want to spend time cooking when there are other more important things to do, and like I said, Logan doesn’t keep much food in the house.”

  I nod and smugly walk over to the fridge. I quickly scan it before pulling out some chicken, brussels sprouts, lettuce, and carrots. I move to the pantry and pull out some potatoes. Then, I lay them on the counter.

  “Prove it then.”

  She puts her hands on her hips, like she always does when she is mad and wants to make a point. “No. I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

  “Prove to me that you can cook a simple meal, and I’ll stop talking about fucking you. Cook me dinner, and I’ll be a good boy and discuss what your crazy plan is now that I’m pretending to date Lily.”

  She grins. “Fine. What do you want me to make you?”

  “Anything that you want with the ingredients in front of you.”

  She stares at them with wide eyes, not having a clue what to do.

  I laugh. “How about some grilled chick
en with mashed potatoes, roasted brussels sprouts, and a salad with carrots?”

  She nods and then starts opening drawers, pulling out a tiny knife and a cutting board. I take a seat at a bar stool opposite her.

  I hold back a laugh as she pulls out the carrots and begins attempting to chop them without peeling off the skin. Each chop requires the full force of her knife in order to make a slice in the carrot.

  I laugh. I can’t help it.

  I get up and walk behind her, placing my hands on hers. “First, you need to peel the carrots.”

  I reach into the drawer next to her and pull out a peeler. I replace the knife in her hand with the peeler. My hands stay on her hands as I show her how to move the peeler down the carrot. I feel her suck in a breath as I move my head next to hers under the pretext of looking at the carrot.

  I reach back into the drawer and pull out a chef’s knife. I take the peeler out of her hand and replace it with the knife.

  “Then, you can cut the carrot into pieces.” My hand glides over hers as I show her how to properly cut it. I can feel her pulse beating faster in her wrist.

  I take a step back and let her continue by herself. She takes a deep breath as she adjusts to the emptiness.

  “So, what is your grand plan for Lily now?” I ask, leaning on the bar behind her so that I can stare at her body without her judging eyes.

  “Um…what?”

  I grin. She can act like I don’t affect her at all, but it’s a lie.

  “Nothing,” I say, happy not to talk about work right now. It will only make me angry, remembering exactly what she did to me. “You should probably start on the chicken if you want to eat tonight.”

  She gives me a dirty look over her shoulder.

  “Do you want some help?” I ask, crossing my arms.

  “No.”

  She takes the chicken and plops it into a grill pan before putting it on the stove and turning the stove on high.

  She walks back over to her cutting board, and after pulling the brussels sprouts out, she cluelessly stares at them.

  She takes her knife and chops down hard. The brussels sprout goes flying away from her.

  I chuckle.

  “I don’t like brussels sprouts anyway. Let’s just stick to everything else.”

  I grin and nod while I resist helping her again.

  She takes the potatoes, puts them into a pot, covers them with water, and then places it on the stove.

  I snicker.

  “What?”

  “It’s going to take hours to boil the potatoes if you don’t cut them up first.”

  “I knew that.”

  She takes the pot back over to the counter. She pulls the soaking wet potatoes out of the pot and places one on the chopping board. She starts cutting and chops it into tiny pieces.

  I shake my head. She’s one of the smartest, strongest women I’ve ever met. How does she not have a clue as to how to cook?

  I walk behind her again, and she freezes, already anticipating my touch.

  “Need some help?” I ask, keeping my distance.

  “No,” she says stubbornly. She walks to the fridge, searching for something. When she finally finds what she has been looking for, she smiles and pulls it out. “Cheese makes everything better.”

  I shake my head at her as she pulls out some shredded cheese and pops it into her mouth. She’s avoiding my touch, which just makes me want to touch her more.

  I have a dairy intolerance, but I’ll deal with some stomach cramps in order to get what I want.

  I walk over to her and reach into the bag she’s holding. I eat some of the cheese as she watches me with large eyes.

  She tries to walk around me, but I make sure our hands brush against each other.

  She goes back to the cutting board and starts angrily cutting the potatoes again.

  “Ouch!” she yells.

  I’m behind her in two seconds. My arms are around her body as I take her cut finger into my hands. She’s bleeding pretty badly. I pull her hand over to the sink where I turn on the faucet, running cold water, and I begin washing the wound, trying to get the bleeding to stop.

  It takes a few minutes, but it finally stops. I turn the water off, and then I lean down and gently kiss her finger.

  “All better. I should get a Band-Aid for that,” I say, trying to ignore her beating heart and how she looks at me like I just saved her life instead of just healing her finger that would have healed without my assistance.

  I sweep past her, but she grabs on to my shirt, stopping me.

  She narrows her gorgeous eyes at me as she peers into mine. I don’t know what she’s doing. I don’t know what she’s thinking. Her hand moves slowly up my body until it reaches my neck, and then she pulls my neck down until she cautiously kisses me on the lips.

  My hands grab her face as I deepen the kiss. Her kisses say so much that I know she would never tell me with her words. They say, You were right. They say, I’m sorry. They say, Thank you.

  She pulls away, realizing what she just did, as she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. She doesn’t say anything. She just stands there, looking at me.

  “I’ll go get a Band-Aid,” I say, keeping my promise not to talk about having sex with her again.

  I walk quickly to the bathroom, and after searching for a couple of minutes, I come back with a Band-Aid in hand.

  “Found one,” I say as I return to her in the kitchen.

  She hasn’t moved an inch since I left. She’s clearly lost in her own thoughts when I walk back over to her.

  I open the Band-Aid and then take her hand in mine. I place the Band-Aid on her finger.

  I lean my head down to kiss her finger again because I can’t pass up that opportunity when she grabs my face and kisses me hard again with a force I wasn’t expecting.

  I stutter backward as I wrap her in my arms and kiss her back.

  “I hate you,” she says, breaking from the kiss.

  “I know.” I pull her bottom lip into my mouth, needing this more than she knows.

  “And you hate me.”

  I nod.

  “Good. Just so we understand that this changes nothing.”

  I grin. She’s very, very wrong about that. This changes everything. If the first time was a mistake and the second time was a bigger mistake, then the third time is a choice. It means that, despite how mad she is at me, she wants this more.

  She grabs my shirt, ripping it open, just like I did to her earlier. Her eyes devour my hard body.

  “Damn it,” she says.

  “What?”

  “Why does your body have to be so hot? I’ve spent a week with you, and I haven’t seen you work out once. You shouldn’t be this good-looking.”

  I give her my sexiest grin before I kiss her neck. I grab the hem of her shirt and lift it over her head.

  I take a step back to really look at her body. “Talk about hot bodies.”

  She blushes, and I love it.

  “You’ve been a naughty girl,” I say, grabbing her hips and pulling her back toward me.

  “Yeah? How?” She moans against my lips as her soft lips kiss me again.

  I grab the sweatpants that she changed into and push them down her body. I turn her around and slap her hard on the ass. “You forced me to pretend to date a woman who isn’t you.”

  I slap her again, and she yelps.

  She turns her face toward me as she bites her lip. “Does that mean that I have to be punished?”

  My eyes deepen with that thought. “Yes.”

  She bites her lip harder but I realize it’s not because I turn her on. It’s because she is stifling a laugh.

  “You think it’s funny that I want to punish you?”

  She turns around and swallows as she takes a step away. “Yes.”

  We both make our move at the same time. She runs, and I chase after her.

  She doesn’t make it far before I grab her body, pulling her back to me. She grabs the ch
eese and begins throwing it at me, trying to get me to let her go. I grab her hand and eat the cheese out of it to get her to stop. I suck each of her fingers into my mouth, and she melts.

  I should punish her. Make her pay for hurting me. But that would mean not having sex with her. And that would punish me.

  Instead, I reach around her back and undo her bra, watching as her plump breasts show themselves to me again. She grabs her panties and pushes them down, and then she’s naked, standing in the kitchen.

  I groan at the sight of her. Her body is glorious. Her skin is smooth, her boobs are delicious, and her smooth stomach leads down to the tightest pussy.

  Her entire body distracts me with thoughts of what I can do with her. Fuck her on the counter, in the living room, or in a bed. Claim her mouth, her pussy, her ass. I want it all.

  I look into her eyes though, and I see something there that I didn’t see before. Fear.

  “Why?” I ask, wanting to know why she pushed me into Lily.

  She sucks in a breath as I slowly undo my pants and remove them along with my boxers and shirt.

  “Because I was scared.”

  I grab her and lift her onto the counter, needing her here and now. I need to look into her eyes when she comes. I need to understand everything about her.

  My cock hardens as I kiss her. I push against her and then stop, resting my hands on her thighs.

  She grabs my face, trying to pull me to her again.

  “I need to go get a condom,” I say, hating myself for not having a ready stash on hand.

  “No, you don’t.”

  My eyes light up at the thought of fucking her without a condom.

  I grab on to her and start kissing her again as I push my cock at her entrance. She swats me away.

  “What?” I ask.

  She looks in the direction of her sweatpants. I grin as I reach down and pick them up off the floor. I dig through the pockets and find a condom, holding it up to her lips.

  “Now, tell me, why do you have a condom in your sweatpants? You weren’t planning on seducing me when I got home, were you?”

  She bites her lip. “No.”

  I rip the condom open, roll it onto my cock, and then thrust inside her.

  “Liar.”

  Her nails dig roughly into my back as I thrust. I just can’t figure out if she is pulling me closer or pushing me away as I fuck her.