You Might Be Bad For Me Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
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“It’s my mother,” I tell him and struggle to confess to him that every time I drift to sleep, I relive the hell that existed before she died. Every memory I’ve shut away and buried with her is back. “I feel crazy because the nightmares are so real.” I can feel myself breaking down and the moment Sebastian notices, both of his hands are on me. One on my thigh, rubbing back and forth and the other on my shoulder. I’m in a sleep shirt that comes down to my knees, my legs covered by the blanket. His right hand though is touching my bare skin. The rough pad of his thumb rubs soothing circles against my collarbone and I lean into it. I’ve never felt the need to be touched so gently before. The need to be held.

If I had even a hint that he’d still respect me after, I’d climb into his lap right now.

“It’s all right.” His voice is strong, but also frustrated and it reminds me of that day back in high school. He’s barely keeping it together as he takes me in.

“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to do other than apologize. “I don’t want to be this way,” I plead with him to understand. “I think when I drank the--”

“It’s not the sweets. It’s what’s going on around us. This shit is bringing up old memories. The drug is just a knockoff pharmaceutical. Most people don’t even know about it. It’s like any other sleep med, Chlo. A friend gave it to me to sell, but no one buys sleep meds off the street.”

“You don’t understand,” I tell him.

“Make me understand.”

I think long and hard about exactly how to explain it. It’s not an old memory. These terrors are so real and lifelike, they don’t leave me when I wake up. “I’m scared,” is all I can say, and the confession comes out as a whisper.

“I want you to come spend the night with me,” Sebastian speaks like it’s a request, but it’s not. I can hear it in his voice and along with the shock is something else.

Desperation.

I can’t move, thinking I’ve misheard him. All I can do is stare into his eyes and listen to every single beat of my heart.

“It’s in my best interest to keep an eye on you,” he tells me slowly and then licks his lower lip. It’s slow and sensual but there’s something else there like he can’t quite figure something out. “You look like you could use some company. It’ll do us both good.”

He gives me five minutes to gather a few things. It hardly takes me that long as I toss my toiletries on top of a stack of folded clean clothes and grab my purse. That’s it. I don’t bother with anything else.

We’re not driving far, but even so, the car ride is quiet in a way that absorbs my every thought. Sebastian Black… and me. Maybe one day I’ll wake up and all of this will be a dream. Or maybe one day, he’ll come with me and we can run away from this nightmare.

“Haven’t you ever thought about leaving?” I let the internal thought wander to my lips as I rest my cheek against the car window. The hum of the engine and the gentle vibrations threaten to lure me to sleep, but I fight it.

“You don't think I want to leave too?” he asks me, taking his eyes from the road to look at me. I don’t answer, I just take him in, right here at this moment. The strength that is Sebastian Black, veiled with the secret that he’d rather run away. My heart hurts for him in this instant; I always thought he ran this city and that he thrived because of it. How foolish I was. I realize that now as he tells me, “When you figure out where you're going to run to, let me know.”

SEBASTIAN

I didn’t even think to be embarrassed or ashamed until Chloe stopped in the foyer. All I was thinking was that I was done leaving her alone. I don’t have a good feeling about any of this shit and I just want to keep her close. I never considered what she’d think of my place though. Or what she’d think of me.

“Welcome home,” I tell her as I toss my keys onto the skinny kitchen counter next to the pile of unopened mail I got yesterday.

There’s a sofa, a coffee table, and a TV. Nothing else in this room. It’s never looked bare before, until now. It’s never felt like it was lacking in any way until I see Chloe not moving from where she is.

The sofa came with throw pillows I didn’t like, so I tossed them out, but there’s a standard bed pillow and an old blanket in a heap on the far end of the sofa. That’s where Carter sleeps when he needs a place to crash.



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