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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I can see why he’s so fucking conceited now.

He lazily scratches the back of his head as he stalks toward me, not at all trying to cover up any part of his body. I’ve slipped my shorts back on already and I’m busy pulling up a bra strap when he asks, “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” I answer him with a side-eye and bend down to pick up my shirt. Which is torn beyond any hope of repair. The memory makes my pussy clench and the sweet ache only makes me want Dean again. “Well, I guess this is trash now,” I say although it comes out light and humorous more than anything else.

I can feel how my body reacts to his. It’s innate. It’s clear from the way I peek at him through my lashes, the way the heat creeps up into my cheeks and even how my breathing is attuned to his.

Like prey to a hunter … or vice versa.

With him, it’s dangerous because I desperately want to be the prey.

His face scrunches in sympathy. “Sorry about that,” he says, taking the shirt from my hands and letting his strong fingers brush against mine. They’re rough to the touch and send sparks of want through me, even as the soreness between my thighs intensifies by the second. Dean’s damn good at what he does. I’ll give him that.

“You want me to get you a new one?” he asks me.

“Why? So you can rip that one up too?”

“What else am I good for?” he jokes as I shake my head and stare at the ruined fabric in my hands.

“I knew you were bad news,” I say and again it’s meant as a tease, to come out playfully and add to the banter between us.

“You don’t know my story,” he says and his voice comes out hard. No humor, only defensiveness.

I’m caught off guard as I watch him bend down for his shirt. Still completely naked, but he reaches for the shirt first, of all things.

“Really?” I tease him, pretending the tension doesn’t exist. I wait for him to look up at me and that guarded expression still clouds his handsome face. It calls to me differently than before. My fingers itch to touch his jaw. To calm the sadness, but I resist. “Your shirt is what you go for first?” I keep my voice light and he huffs out a breath but lets a smile grow on his face.

“It’s for you,” he tells me as he balls it up and hands it to me. “Since you’re so hell-bent on having me rip another shirt off you.”

The laughter that erupts from me at his response is genuine, as is the warmth that flows through me. He’s bad news for me. He doesn’t get that. It’s all bad news waiting to happen.

“It’s been a while since I’ve smiled this hard,” I confess and then bite back the happiness and honesty in that statement.

“That’s a shame,” Dean says and takes the shirt back before I can accept it. “You’ve got a beautiful smile.” He leaves it hanging there in the air, and I take the bait, reaching out and trying to snatch it from him. A rough chuckle fills the air between us when I miss.

“You want it?” he asks me with a smirk on his face.

Do I want his shirt? I’m in my own damn house. I could go upstairs and put on whatever I want. But do I want his? The one he’s taunting me with? Not to mention the only shirt he has here.

I nod once, feeling my hair tickle my back. The stare between us grows hotter as he takes a half step back, but holds out the shirt. My heart races faster with each passing second and the tips of my fingers glide against one another as he shakes it, as if to say, “Here, it’s all yours.”

I act as fast as I can, reaching for it and tearing it from him, but it’s in vain.

He lets me have it without a fight in the least.

The cotton shirt is bunched in my hands as he drops his to his side and scratches his abs.

“Aw, you’re even prettier when you pout,” he mocks me and I roll my eyes, tossing his shirt carelessly behind him.

“You’re no fun,” I tell him. He takes a large stride toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against his hard chest before I can blink.

“Allie Cat, all you have to do is tell me you want it,” he says as I gasp and reach both my hands up to his bare chest. My blood heats as he lowers his lips to the shell of my ear. “Sometimes it’s fun to take, but we both know how that would end between us,” he whispers, and it sends a chill across my skin.



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