Give Me the Bad Boy – A Darker Romance Collection Read Online Jenika Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy Tags Authors: Jenika Snow Advertisement

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I knew he didn’t.

Sure, he wanted my body as payment, but he’d given me no time frame, hadn’t even asked for details about what I was going through with Ricky. All he knew was the generic situation I’d explained.

But Cameron didn’t seem like the type of man to go against what he said.

And that scares the shit out of me.

I felt my eyelids grow heavy, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. I was exhausted, but my nerves were shot, the worry of life, of the situation I was in wearing me down so much I couldn’t breathe. I was drowning, and there was no life raft, no one who would pull me out of the deep end and save my life.

I shifted, rolled over onto my back, and stared at the ceiling. The stain to the right of me was from a leak in the above apartment, the brown circle spread wide. I stared at it, tracing the edges of it with my gaze. The place was liable to cave on me at any moment, just snuff my life out as if it meant nothing.

And maybe it didn’t. Maybe in the end it was just me trying to pretend I could survive.

I exhaled, not wanting my thoughts to go down that dark path.

I was Cameron’s. He’d help me, get me out of the situation with Ricky, but the cost, the payment I was giving to him would be so much more. It would suck me dry, corrupt my very soul. I closed my eyes, but I knew sleep wouldn’t come. My mind was moving too fast, my thoughts too consuming.

I felt myself relax further on the shitty bed I was on, the mattress probably having seen more ass, more disgust than I cared to think about.

And then I heard a soft sound come from the living room. It was a click, this little tick of a noise that seemed so loud, so menacing.

I sat up, reaching down beside the bed without taking my eyes off my bedroom door. It was cracked open, and the thought that maybe I should have shut it completely played through my mind. But it wouldn’t have made a difference. There was no lock on my bedroom door, and if someone wanted in, they’d just have to slam their shoulder into it for the weak old-ass door to break open.

I felt the handle of the bat slide along my hand, and I curled my fingers around it. Moving slowly, trying to be silent, I lifted the bat up. I pushed the blanket off me, swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and when the mattress creaked, I grimaced. My heart seemed to still, my breathing stopped, and I stared at the door. I expected someone to come bursting in at that moment, but the silence stretched on. I wasn’t a fool to think I had imagined the sound, not in this apartment building, not in the situation I was in with Ricky.

I shifted on the bed another inch, hearing that damn mattress creak again. I was frozen, my mouth tight, dry. And then the bedroom door swung open, someone kicking it in so hard it slammed against the wall, the doorknob crushing the plaster. I screamed out of instinct and fell to my knees. I had the baseball bat in my hand still, the wood feeling warm under in my hold. I scrambled to get up, because being in this submissive position wouldn’t be good for me, would only make me more of a victim than I’d already be.

But someone grabbed hold of my hair and yanked me up. The bat was wrenched from my hold, and I saw scuffed-up boots in my vision. My head was cocked back, tears now in my eyes, the pain twisting me up.

“Brad, no need to scuff up the merchandise.”

The man tossed me to the center of the room, and I landed hard on my hands and knees. I tried to get up, but a hand on my shoulder kept me down. I turned and stared into the eyes of a man I’d hoped to never see again.

Ricky.

“I realize I’m early in collecting payment, but I decided I’d get more bang for my buck if the payment was you.” He grinned, a depraved sight, a smile that told me what he’d use me for would ruin me, would break me.

But I’ll still be alive, suffering, wishing for death because my life will be nothing more than a vessel for another’s pleasure.

“I need more time,” I said, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference, knowing the deal was for Cameron to handle this. But I grasped on to anything, something.

“Time isn’t what I’m good at giving, baby.” He took a step closer, and I held my breath, watching him. “And let’s be honest.” He cocked his head to the side. “You weren’t going to repay me. You couldn’t. The moment you came into my place of business you thought I’d let you off the hook.” He grinned again. “You knew”—he got down on his haunches.—“the moment that money touched your fingers that your body would be used in ways you never knew possible. Deep down there was no doubt that you’d be fucked so hard the only thing you’d know for certain was that you were crying.” He stood again, looked around my apartment, and tsked. “What a fucking shithole. I’ll be doing you a favor.”

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