Please hate me unholy se.., p.1
Please Hate Me: Unholy Series Book 1, page 1
Please Hate Me
Erin Mersey
Copyright © 2024 by Erin Mersey
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
The story, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious.
Book Cover by Getcovers
Contents
Content warning
Dedication
Prologue
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
23. Chapter 23
24. Chapter 24
25. Chapter 25
26. Chapter 26
27. Chapter 27
28. Chapter 28
29. Chapter 29
30. Chapter 30
31. Chapter 31
32. Chapter 32
33. Chapter 33
34. Chapter 34
35. Chapter 35
36. Chapter 36
37. Chapter 37
38. Chapter 38
39. Chapter 39
40. Chapter 40
41. Chapter 41
42. Chapter 42
43. Chapter 43
44. Chapter 44
45. Chapter 45
46. Chapter 46
47. Chapter 47
48. Chapter 48
49. Epilogue
About the author
Content warning
Dear Reader,
Please note “Please Hate Me” is an MMFFM Polyamorous novel, if this isn’t your thing, please don’t spread her pages. It also contains themes that may not be suitable for all audiences. These themes include but are not limited to BDSM, pregnancy, child abuse, religious trauma, cults, self-harm, acts of violence, murder, verbal abuse, physical abuse, eating disorders, homicide, death, both of a loved one and others, car accidents, house fires, minor transgressions against the LGBTQ+ community, alcohol use, needles, and drug use.
Some of the kinks in this book include but are not limited to degradation, praise, wax play, age play, pain play, exhibitionism, needle play, knife play, and CNC (Consensual nonconsent). The acts in this book, if imitated in real life, can lead to bodily harm. This novel is not meant to be used as a guide for safe sex, and all sexual acts depicted in this novel are performed by consenting adults. This book is intended to be enjoyed by only those 18+.
To all the disaster bisexuals who truly have no type, enjoy.
Prologue
Mason
I have always felt most at home under the calm of night. The dull glow of the frigid moon illuminates me, cleansing my soul. Endless stars speak softly, each one offering a different perspective on the vastness of the universe. Owls sing, crickets chirp, and humans are supposed to be asleep. These small wonders are best enjoyed alone, but on that fateful night, I was surrounded by drunk strangers and loud music.
I gazed out over the crowd, overwhelmed by the carefully contained chaos. A huge mosh pit raged in front of the stage, full of fanatics infected by the rock melodies bleeding forth from enormous speakers. But while they all danced as if they’d never have the chance again, I sat at my high-top table, staring at the night sky.
I desperately wanted to get out of there, but running from a concert wasn’t very fitting of my carefully cultivated public persona. Besides, my dad was holding me captive in VIP, being watched by his bodyguards to make sure I didn’t run. He didn’t care about my safety, of course; that level of concern would require him to act like a father.
No, all he cared about was his image.
I was a rock star’s daughter, and according to him, I needed to act like it. Attend his concerts whenever he and I just so happened to be in the same town, get drunk, sleep with a random dude, and raise a little hell. He wanted my life to mirror his, including my choice of career... But I’d rather be at my flat, reading a book or watching the moon from the comfort of my bedroom window. Anyone who really knew me could tell you that.
Then again, I wasn’t in the habit of letting people get that close to me. Not anymore.
As the pulsating beat of the music resonated in my chest, the enthusiasm of the crowd rubbed me raw. Their energy was contagious, infectious even, but it only reminded me how out of place I felt.
I turned my attention from the floor seats to the bustling VIP area around me, hoping to find a way out of here. If I hopped over the railing in front of my table, I’d fall about six feet and end up in the general admission area. I’d probably break my leg on the way down, so that wasn’t much of an option. If I went left, I’d encounter a beautiful girl with a septum ring and a snake tattoo. Exactly my type. I’d have loved to get her phone number, but I could already see myself tripping over my words and making an ass of myself.
It was better to spare myself the embarrassment.
But if I wanted to avoid her, I’d have to go through the bachelorette party to my right. At least one of them would recognize me, guaranteed. I’d end up on their Instagram stories, and they’d pressure me to stay longer than necessary. Then I’d have to politely explain that I never wanted to talk to any of them again.
And that would be a headache.
I twisted my back to examine the space directly behind me. Past a few more rows of tables lay the private VIP bar—a long, white stretch of counter flanked on either side by my father’s personal goons. Tonight, they posed as bouncers, but their real job was to keep an eye on me. No doubt they’d been instructed not to let me leave before the show was over. But they’d probably look the other way if I walked out on the arm of a one-night stand. So, I scanned the bar once more, this time hoping to find someone to assist me in my exit scheme.
And that’s when I saw him: an enormous man wearing a ten-gallon hat and cowboy boots. Country guys weren’t usually my type, but I was a sucker for tall men... And this guy had to be almost seven feet. He turned away from the bar, a beer in his hand and a smile on his face, and then his gaze met mine.
Our eyes held for a moment, and I could sense a spark of curiosity. Something was intriguing about him, different from the usual crowd surrounding me. With a silent nod, he approached my table, his confident stride cutting through the sea of metal tables and chairs.
His warm smile widened as he approached, and I swore I saw a dimple under his facial hair.
“Mind if I join you?”
His voice was impossibly deep, radiating with the charm of a southern gentleman.
“Be my guest.” I gestured to the empty chair across from me.
He blinked twice, taken aback by my reaction.
“Sorry… I wasn’t expectin’ to hear English.”
“Then why’d you speak it first?” I tilted my head, a sly smile twisting at my lips.
“Force’a habit.”
He settled into the chair, his broad frame commanding attention even in the dimly lit venue. Excited whispers rose from the bachelorette party as some of the girls took notice of my new date. Hopefully they’d keep their distance— I wasn’t nearly attractive enough to keep this guy’s attention if one of them decided to approach.
With the man now closer, I could see his features more clearly. His amber eyes were deep and soulful, and the stage lights flashing across his cheeks revealed a smattering of freckles. He had a strong jawline framed by a short ginger beard, and few matching curls had escaped from the worn cowboy hat that sat atop his head. His midsection looked rather soft, but his arms were thick with muscles that rippled with every movement.
In short, he was coming home with me tonight. I’d make sure of it.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone?” he questioned, taking a sip of his beer.
‘Pretty’ was hardly a word I’d use to describe myself, but that wasn’t a conversation for a stranger. Plus, if I argued with him, I might lose my ticket out of here.
“Concerts aren’t really my thing,” I admitted.
“Well then, we’re two peas in a pod. This ain’t really my thing either.”
I could have guessed that just by looking at his boot-cut blue jeans, but I wasn’t going to be rude to him. Instead, I just laughed.
“Oh, yeah? Then why are you here? VIP tickets aren’t cheap.”
“Few of my colleagues are into this stuff, and they were worried I’d get myself into trouble, so they stuck me up here.”
His impossibly broad shoulders squared, and his expression soured like he’d bitten into a lemon.
“I’m a... public speaker, of sorts. A preacher, to be more accurate. I’m more or less the face of the organization, so they can be kinda... overprotective.”
“Wow. So… you’re a religious man?”
God dammit.
My exit strategy depend ed on finding someone willing to have a one-night stand, and a religious guy probably wouldn’t be into that. Worse than that, my head was already swimming with fantasies of him doing unholy things to me. It was hard not to feel a little let down.
“Yes... and no.” He took a swig of his beer. “I believe the Lord has a plan for us all. I believe Jesus Christ died for our sins, and I strive to live by His teachings. But...”
He took another drink.
“I’m not exactly a model student.”
That statement caused me to perk up a little.
“In what way?” I asked, trying to sound like I wasn’t mentally undressing him.
“I’ve got a boyfriend back home. And a girlfriend. Homosexuality and polyamory are both sins, in the eyes of the church.” He took another gulp and finished his beer.
I felt for him. I had known I wasn’t straight for a long time and was even in a polyamorous relationship in high school. But when my music career took off a few years ago, I was terrified to come out publicly.
Most of my fans were open-minded, but I still had people calling me hateful names and telling me I was going to hell. And that was hard enough to deal with— I couldn’t even imagine the kind of hatred he’d face as a gay religious figure.
“You should never feel ashamed of who you are... or who you love,” I told him.
He smiled bitterly. “Thank you for saying that.”
There was a lull in conversation as we took in the sounds of the concert. After a while the band began playing a slower song, and the crowd became a sea of lighters and phone flashlights.
“So... what are your partners like?” I asked, not really caring to listen to my dad sing a song he wrote about my mother before I was born, back when the two didn’t hate each other.
The mystery man smiled and looked toward the sky.
“My girlfriend’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met. She pushes everyone around her to chase their dreams and live their best lives. She’s a COO, and she handles the business end of our farm.”
“And your boyfriend?”
“He’s a bit of a hothead. Can’t keep himself off of drugs, either. After everything he’s been through, I can’t blame him. But it hurts my heart to see him that way.” The man cleared his throat. “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about your life. You with anybody?”
I squirmed under the weight of his question.
“My fiancé and I broke up a while ago. She... was only interested in me because of the life I could provide… I’m actually terrible with relationships.”
Why was I telling him this? He was a stranger, but even with that, he felt safe.
“How so? I can’t imagine a tiny little thing like you bein’ mean to anyone.” He laughed.
It took me a second to realize he was trying to make me laugh and not making fun of me.
“Ah, well, no.” I looked away, placing a hand on my neck as I twirled a strand of hair that had broken free of my ponytail. Fidgeting was an awful nervous habit of mine.
“I just scare people away, or run to prevent them from hurting me,” I continued.
“They can’t hurt you if you hurt yourself first.”
“That’s a really good way to put it… hey, I’m sorry for ruining the conversation.” We were supposed to end up fucking, not sharing feelings.
He waved me off. “Ain’t a thing to be sorry for. There’s nothing better than venting to someone you’ll never see again.”
I tried to come up with a witty response, but my words failed me as I realized just how cold the venue was. I hugged my arms to my chest, silently cursing myself for deciding not to wear long sleeves.
“Ah, where are my manners? You must be freezing.” The man rose from his chair, removed the jacket from his enormous shoulders, and wrapped it around my body. His hand lingered on my shoulder for just a moment too long, causing my heart to race.
“You don’t have to give me this. I’m fine.”
Despite my protest, I discreetly sniffed the worn leather. It smelled like manly musk mixed with some smoky cologne I couldn’t place.
“I can’t sit by while a lady is shivering.” He had a twinkle in his eye, and I was sure he was about to kiss me.
But just then, a powerful chord signaled the beginning of a new song, causing us both to jump. We looked at each other for a moment, and he swallowed hard before reaching forward and resting his hand on my leg.
“Would you like to move somewhere quieter?” he asked.
Mission accomplished.
Chapter 1
Mason
Six months later…
I shifted uncomfortably in a rigid airport seat while a million fucking noises all fought for my attention. Hurried footsteps, rolling suitcases, receipt printers, bags of chips, distant announcements, and, most notably, the crying baby across the aisle from me. His mother looked exhausted. She rocked her son diligently as he wailed his little lungs out.
The sight made me look down at my own swollen stomach. I placed a hand on the curve and wrinkled my nose. Should I offer to help the woman? Or would that do more harm than good?
“Mason, is everything alright?” A voice called from my headphones.
I had almost forgotten I was video chatting with my boyfriend. Sebastian’s face filled the screen as I lifted the phone, his warm smile instantly putting me at ease. The corners of his eyes crinkled as his arctic gaze bore into mine. In moments like these, I realized how lucky I was to have him in my life—the one person who would never abandon me, no matter the circumstance.
Sebastian and I had originally met during my first stint in America. I was dating his brother at the time, but Sebastian was convinced that I was meant to be with him. I spent years rejecting him, even after I moved to France. The fact that he still wanted me after all that was proof that he would always be there for me.
“There’s my princess.” He cradled his head in his hand, his fingers gently entwined in his cropped sunny-blonde hair. It was a familiar gesture that never failed to make me melt. I just wished his affection wasn’t based on obsession. It’d be nice if someone actually loved me, but that thought was neither here nor there.
I forced an award-winning smile at his words. Right now, I needed him.
A soft fluttering in my abdomen drew my attention as my daughter kicked at my palm.
We needed him.
“Hey, are you sure it’s okay with Lucian’s partner that I’m moving in?”
Was it even okay with Lucian?
“Do you need proof?” Sebastian snorted.
“If you wouldn’t mind...” I watched the blood rush to my cheeks in the self-view, filling the spaces between my freckles. “I think this pregnancy is driving me a little crazy.”
He shook his head. “You’re not crazy—you’re too considerate. It’s a good thing.”
His camera jostled as he stood up, sending my view into a disarray of colors before settling on an unflattering angle that showcased his blonde hair and a view of the ceiling. It was nice to see how comfortable he was with me.
My thoughts wandered to Sebastian’s current living situation, which I knew little about apart from the fact that he was renting an apartment within Lucian’s partner’s home. And that it was, in his words, nice, but that description left me with more questions than answers about a residence that would soon become my new temporary abode.
Curiosity sparked within me, and I couldn’t help but imagine the sprawling halls and opulent rooms that might await me. Would there be sunlit nooks filled with cozy reading chairs? Or perhaps a grand staircase leading to a balcony overlooking a serene garden? My imagination painted vivid pictures, blending reality and whimsy.
Lost in my musings, I shifted in my seat. It was thrilling to think about the new life that awaited me within those walls—the shared laughter, the late-night conversations, and the sense of belonging that would blossom within those hallowed spaces.
Once again, I was brought back to reality by Sebastian’s voice.
“Lucky!” he called.
I knew what was about to happen. He was talking to his brother, which meant Lucian needed to respond. And if we were going to live under the same roof, I had to be prepared to see him–prepared to not totally melt the second his dark gaze fixed on me.
