Dynasty (Boys of Winter #1) Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors: Series: Boys of Winter Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 129955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
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Maybe it’s a dark thing. Perhaps I should consider becoming nocturnal, that way I’ll never have to fear the monsters coming out at night.

My eyes flutter closed, and I stare up at the backs of my eyelids, feeling like a complete idiot, but as the memories of hands on my body begin assaulting my mind, my eyes fly back open. I'm not an idiot; I'm a pathetic loser who can’t seem to put the past behind her.

I always thought I was stronger than this. I’ve trolled streets and allowed random men to touch me just to get close enough to kick their asses. So, why does this bother me so much? Probably because they didn’t have my consent. I wasn’t open to being touched, and I sure as hell wasn’t the one in control.

Fuck me. I need therapy.

Getting frustrated with myself, I fly back out of bed and make my way downstairs. Perhaps I’ll watch a movie or three and fall asleep out of pure exhaustion in front of Carver’s ridiculously big theater screen. At least the couches are comfortable.

I trudge down the stairs, cringing with every step as I feel the welcome ache reminding me exactly where the boys had been this afternoon. I stop by the kitchen for a glass of water and am halfway through plonking a few ice cubes in when the glass is ripped right out of my hand and slammed down on the kitchen counter, the final ice cube dropping straight to the ground. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

I stare back at Carver, taking in the fury pulsing out of his eyes and hoping he slips on the stupid ice cube. “The fuck is wrong with you? I’m not going anywhere,” I snap back at him, my eyes dropping to notice he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants that show me everything he’s got working for him.

He scoffs, his eyes raking up and down my body. “I’m not falling for your bullshit. You’re not sneaking out of here again, and I’m not spending another night running all over fucking town trying to save your ass from getting beat. It ain’t happening.”

“Screw you,” I say, reaching past him for my glass of water and briefly considering throwing it all over him. “Look at me, I’m in my fucking pajamas. Besides, I don’t owe you an explanation, especially considering that you’re too much of an asshole to even ask nicely, but if you must know, I came down here to watch a movie.”

Carver watches me closely, and a few seconds pass before understanding dawns in his eyes. He steps in closer, putting his hand at my waist as though he has any right to touch me. “You couldn’t sleep.” I look away, not able to meet his eye and confess again that I can’t be without him. “Why didn’t you come to my room? You could have slept with me. You know I don’t care that you’re there.”

I shake my head, slowly bringing my gaze back to his. “And sleep in the arms of a man who can’t be real with me? No thanks.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he demands, his hand falling from my waist.

“You know exactly what it means. There’s so much left that I need to know about Dynasty, and you’re the one keeping it from me. Cruz and King … they don’t give a shit if I know, I can see it in their eyes. Grayson probably wants me to know just so I’ll fuck off and shut up about it, but you. You’re the one pulling the strings. You’re the one not letting me in, and for that, I can’t trust you.”

Anger burns in his eyes. “After everything I’ve done for you, you still can’t trust me?”

“Not if you’re intentionally keeping something from me. I don’t come from a world where I have the luxury to trust. If you want my trust, then you need to earn it, and hope to whoever the hell you believe in that you don’t fuck it up once it’s there.”

Carver watches me for a minute, his eyes not leaving mine for a second, and when the tension grows too high, I turn and start walking away, only he catches my wrist, forcing me to look back and see the conflict shining in his eyes. “Fine,” he finally says. “I’ll tell you as much as I can without pushing it, but it’s not going to leave you feeling all warm and fuzzy. It’s going to leave you empty, and with even more questions, most of which I won’t answer.”

He gives me a second to think about what he's offering me, and knowing this isn’t going to be easy sends me spiraling into the same confusion I’ve felt since I first came here. So, I do what any other person in my position would do and give a sharp nod. “Okay.”



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