Love Drunk

by T. L Smith

  Contents

  Warning

  Blurb

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  PREORDER NOW!

  Also by T.L. Smith

  CAVALIER

  Copyright T.L Smith 2019

  Love Drunk by T.L Smith

  Love Me #1 All Rights Reserved

  This ebook is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. This ebook is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Created with Vellum

  Warning

  This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is intended for adults ONLY. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Cover – RBA

  Edited – Swish Editing

  Edited – Ink Machine Editing

  Proofread - Contagious Edits

  Blurb

  One month, I fell for him.

  Two, I was a goner.

  Three, I was a daydreamer.

  But by the fourth, it was a nightmare.

  Everything came in beats.

  Beat one—fantasy.

  Beat two—admission.

  Beat three—love.

  But it’s the fourth beat that completely ruined me.

  Beat.

  Beat.

  Beat.

  With a shattered heart.

  He was my nightmare.

  Prologue

  His flawless lips are right in my face, his perfect body inches from mine.

  How I adore this man.

  With everything I am.

  Even when I know I shouldn’t.

  His eyes skim my body, roam me with a pleasure that shines so brightly.

  Rough hands touch me. If he wants to claim me again, I will let him.

  I love this man.

  I’m love-drunk on him, and I’m afraid I will never get sober.

  The problem is, I want to be sober. No. I need to be sober.

  “Everly.”

  I briefly close my eyes, taking in that word that captures me, steals me, and makes me drunk, so fucking drunk on him I can’t think clearly.

  His breath’s on my ear now. He’s fast, always so damn fast. I can’t keep up with him.

  “Don’t.” My eyes flash open, and he’s back in front of my face.

  “Don’t what, Everly? Touch you?” His hand cups my sex.

  Tears stream down my face and fall onto my top.

  “Why cry, Everly? I am not hurting you. Yet.”

  I shake my head. “Why?”

  The tears are now streaming so fast it’s like Niagara Falls cascading over my eyelids. He leans in close again. His breath makes me tingle, and he licks my ear then takes my earlobe in his mouth, biting it.

  “I want you. There’s no other excuse.”

  I shake my head and he pulls back. His hand is still firmly on my sex, which he’s touched many, many times.

  I’ve been in love with him now for three months.

  How was I so blind?

  How did I fall so fast?

  “You don’t lie, Gunner. Tell me the truth.” My tears dry as he pulls back and looks me in the eyes. His gorgeous, dark, hypnotic eyes stare at me like they’re seeing right inside my very soul.

  “You can’t handle the truth. And your father won’t tell you the truth either.”

  I scoff and shake my head. “I want it from you. Why can’t you give me the truth?”

  His hand touches his perfect hair—brown with natural blond highlights. It’s flawless. It’s the type of hair women pay big money for, and he’s somehow naturally blessed with it.

  But, as with all blessings—and believe me, he has many—there comes a price.

  I was too late to see the price.

  To see who he really is.

  I’m not sure I even see it all now.

  Pieces. Fragments. Scraps. That’s all I have.

  Just like one drink when you’re an alcoholic. You tell yourself only one more sip, it won’t do anything. But one sip is never enough to quench that thirst.

  He’s like that for me.

  I keep telling myself that one more sip won’t hurt, and that I won’t get drunk on him.

  What a lie.

  I’m always drunk on him.

  Totally and utterly intoxicated by him.

  “Everly.”

  The tears have stopped.

  He’s watching me. Waiting. Unsure.

  “Did you ever love me?”

  His eyes look to the floor for answers that don’t come.

  That hurts when there’s no automatic answer.

  I turn to walk away, but like usual, he grabs my arm and turns me back to him.

  “You know not to speak of that. You know who I am. I have not hidden the fact.”

  I pull my arm free, and this time he lets me. “So many things not to do, not to ask, not to feel.” I throw my hands up in the air.

  His posture shifts, and he stands tall. “I changed for you,” he says through gritted teeth.

  This time, I laugh. “It’s nothing more than what you wanted me to see. Isn’t it?”

  Turning, I walk out the door, hopefully taking my love-drunk heart with me.

  “I love you, Everly. Is that what you want to hear?”

  I stop.

  Turn around.

  I’m out the front now, he’s followed me outside with his shirt open from my hands—having a mind of their own—unbuttoning it while we were inside. My eyes betray me, they can’t help themselves as they drop to see his gorgeous physique.

  “You just want me to stay, Gunner.”

  His hand runs through his mass of curls. Why is he so devastatingly beautiful? It’s really unfair.

  “Everly.”

  “Stop saying my name,” I yell.

  A door opens and a neighbor sticks her head out.

  “Get back inside,” Gunner says without looking.

  I turn back and see he’s watching me intently.

  “I don’t think I can do this. Thank you, Gunner. Have a good life.”

  The minute I turn, the tears start. They fall hard and fast like a thundering waterfall gushing with force and ferocity.

  My heart is breaking, tearing into shreds. I’m not sure how I’m putting one foot in front of the other. But I am. I am walking away from him. Hopefully leaving the love-drunk part of me behind.

  I walk past the club where it all started. The pla
ce where I met him.

  It’s where my story with him started, so I guess it is fitting it ends so close to it.

  1

  My hands are on the hem of my dress—it’s one of those that creep all the way up and doesn’t stop creeping until your panties are showing. I try my hardest to pull it down, but the minute I walk, it sneaks its way back up to my ass.

  May’s laughing and brushing my hands away as we arrive at the club door. Her dress, on the other hand, doesn’t budge. Somehow it sticks to her like glue. The cocktail dress is made from red velvet and is beautiful. She’s matched it with a pair of sky-high black Louboutin heels. May’s ass is perfect, and the dress shows all her curves with nothing left to the imagination. While my ass, thanks to my mother, is curvy. I have junk in my trunk, that’s for sure.

  “Leave it,” May states while she brushes my hands away again. I run my fingers through my dark hair hoping it doesn’t frizz later on. Puckering my lips together, I smudge the lipstick between my lips that May insisted I wear tonight, after telling me I have the perfect Cupid’s bow lips.

  The bouncer opens the rope to let us in, and May gives him the biggest of smiles she can muster. As she walks past him, her long straight blonde hair sways from side to side.

  I’ve always admired her confidence, it’s something she has in abundance. Where I only have scraps of it left. She sees no harm in flirting and taking a man home with her. I, on the other hand, would have a panic attack thinking he might actually fucking kill me, or something worse. Who knows? Okay, I know what you’re thinking—there’s nothing worse than being killed, but let me tell you, there is.

  I’m no angel.

  My father runs his business a certain way, and some parts of it are considered dangerous. There are things he does which I shouldn’t know about. But it’s hard to keep secrets when men are constantly coming in and out of your house at all hours of the night. Or when you have a bodyguard with you on your way to school. I overheard these men talking sometimes when I was bored and would sneak out of my bedroom. The way they spoke about what they would do to people who didn’t listen or conform still sends shivers down my spine when I think about it all these years later.

  There is definitely worse.

  In some instances, death is the easy way out, and even preferable to the alternative.

  Granted, I stayed far away from everything that was happening around me—and especially from my father’s business—and did my own thing. I only went home on weekends for my obligatory family dinners or Sunday lunches. It was all part of my arrangement with them.

  One of the reasons I now use as an excuse not to visit them, is that I own one of the busiest cafés in my town—the Pink Café. The reason for its name you ask? Yes, it’s pink, and everywhere you look are tones of the color. It is an Instagrammer’s dream to take photographs of themselves by our flowered walls, or in front of my pink heart stands. I’m proud of what I’ve built, and people visit from all over the world to take pictures. And soon, I will have paid my parents back in full. I honestly cannot wait for the day. The pleasure will be so intense, and I’m sure I will be smiling widely when that time arises. To not be indebted to them anymore means I will not have to be surrounded by them and their wishes or demands.

  “I need to change, or better yet, leave,” I say in the most irritated tone I can muster.

  May shakes her head and steps off to grab our free drinks. That confidence of hers is a really good thing when we go out. She’s also been a massive help for the success of my café. Without her large following and constant posts, it wouldn’t be where it is today.

  We move to the end of the bar, sit on two of the stools where it reads ‘No Service,’ and we sip our drinks while May scans the crowd.

  “I’m going to pick someone for you to go up to and introduce yourself. Offer to buy him a drink. And if you do, my next three posts on Insta are all yours.”

  That’s a bargain for me. May has close to a million followers and is growing exponentially. My little pink café has only fifty-thousand, but I’m hungry for more. She will bring in those followers. Every time she posts, my follows go up, and in conjunction with her posts we become busier. It’s a win for me. Her bright blue eyes shine at me knowing full well I’m going to say yes. She’s simply playing mean now by dangling that proverbial carrot in front of me.

  “Move it, because your first post is tomorrow.” May throws her head back and laughs loudly.

  I stand there waiting and watching for her to settle back down before she makes her choice. This is my chance—I will be able to go home after this and there is nothing more I want right now than my comfy bed and a book. I tap my heels waiting for her to settle the fuck down and pick.

  Once she stops her cackling, May’s eyes scan the dance floor and stop. I watch her line of sight and smile. May would never want me to be with anyone who wasn’t photo-worthy, and this man is definitely in that category. Well, of what I can see of him anyway.

  He has brown-blond hair with touches of light, which is curly and tied back in a low ponytail with a few curls straying out to the side. He’s tall and has quite a few women crowding around him. A few men, too. All of them seem to look up at him as if he’s the center of attention. He probably is, let’s make no mistake about that.

  “That one. Go. Say hello.”

  I turn my attention back to May, raise an eyebrow, and smile. I still haven’t seen his face because his back is to me.

  Her smile is more like a gloating smirk. “Yes, him. The one with the fuck-me hair tied back. Go.” She shoos me, but before I turn to walk away, I ask, “Just hello, right? And three posts, if I do?”

  She nods with a smile. “Yes. Now move it before one of the other women beat you to it and claim his ass.”

  I turn, pull my dress down, and make my way through the throng of people. As I reach him, a girl who’s standing next to him looks me up and down, then dismisses me as if I’m nothing. I turn back to look at May, who’s eagerly watching me. Taking a deep breath, I give myself a little pep talk and tell myself I can do this. He’s just a man, and I interact with people all day at my little café, so saying hello isn’t going to kill me.

  Facing him, I almost stop breathing. It literally feels like everything’s knocked out of me, including my breath. He’s facing me, watching me, and waiting for me to turn back around. His dark eyes bore into mine, and it takes everything in me to not take a step back and slowly retreat away. It’s not simply that his eyes are dark, there’s something else held in them too. Like he could eat me alive if he so pleased. And that thought is scary.

  “We have enough company. Thank you,” one of the girls says. Her hand is on his chest, but he isn’t touching her. In fact, he isn’t touching any of them now I come to notice.

  Removing my eyes from her, I look back to see him assessing me. He’s waiting to see what I’ll do. He still hasn’t uttered a word to me, and I haven’t garnered enough confidence to let any words leave my mouth.

  This was a stupid idea.

  I shouldn’t have let May talk me into this.

  Stupid Instagram. Stupid May and her damn posts.

  Deciding this isn’t worth my embarrassment, I go to turn, to walk away, but something in the way he watches me, makes me open my mouth and speak. “I came over to say hello.”

  What the fuck!

  Seriously… what the fuck!

  Who even says that?

  My back is straight, when really all I want to do is groan ever so loudly and cover my face with my hands in embarrassment. My eyes dart back up to his. He’s still watching me, and even in the dark lighting I can see he’s amused, just as I see his eyes are darker than everyone else’s. The music blares so loudly, and I hope that it’s loud enough for my words to be drowned out and that he didn’t hear me. But knowing my luck, and the look of amusement he’s throwing my way, I would say it’s a big fat no.

  “Hello.”

  His voice startles me. I didn’t expect h
im to speak. And neither did the two girls hanging by his side because they both look up at him with hopeful expressions. Then they turn their evil eyes to me when they realize he’s only looking at me.

  “Who wears a yellow dress! You do realize yellow is so last season.”

  He doesn’t look at the girl who spoke. In fact, he stands still, staring at me as if he doesn’t hear the words spewing out of her disgusting mouth as she’s stationary next to him.

  “Goodbye,” I say, but managing a smile. This isn’t worth my time. No guy with evil spawns hanging off of him is worth my time or effort. I’ve done what I said I would do, and I better get my damn posts. I spin on my high-as-fuck heels and spot May standing in the same place I left her. The damn woman’s laughing, and as I come closer, I snatch the drink from her hand and down it all in one gulp.

  “That was awful. No more of that shit. Do you hear me? No more.”

  She takes the glass back from my hand.

  “And is this dress really that bad?” I look down at myself, pleading with her for the truth.

  May looks me up and down. “You look banging. Fuck! I would fuck you if I batted for the other team.”

  “Well, okay.”

  She turns, ordering us more drinks, and speaks over her shoulder, “He’s mighty fine though, right?”

  I giggle like a schoolgirl at her words. “That he is.”

  “I bet he likes to strangle his women. I read about that. It’s supposedly the new thing which has some sort of euphoric effect and can give you intense orgasms. Do you like to be strangled, Ev?” When she turns to face me there are now two drinks in her hands.