Bradford Bastard (Bradford Bastard #1) Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Bradford Bastard Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 119230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
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Another minute passes before she finishes in the shower, and I listen as she wraps a towel around her tight little body and grips the door handle. Anticipation pulses through my veins, every passing second making me hold my breath until the door finally opens and she steps out.

Her soft gasp fills the room as she sees the deep red words on the mirror staring back at her.

DO YOU THINK ABOUT ME WHEN YOU CUM?

“That fucking ass—”

“Watch it, Killjoy. You wouldn’t want to say anything that’ll get you in trouble now, would you?”

She spins around, her eyes wide as she clutches her towel tighter. “What the hell are you doing in here?” she demands, her cheeks flushing with the most stunning blush. “I thought we covered the whole coming into my room uninvited thing.”

Getting up from her bed, I cross her room and put myself right in front of her, reaching up and fingering a loose strand of blonde hair that curls from the water of her shower. “I came to get you,” I tell her. “There’s a party, but it seems that you’re having more fun here by yourself.”

“What’s the matter, Tanner? Jealous?”

I lean into her, my hand gripping her waist and pulling her in rough against my chest. Her stare meets mine and I hold her captive, loving the way she gasps and pants for breath, just as affected by me as I am by her. “Immensely.”

Her cheeks flush again and she pulls back from me. “Seriously though, what are you doing here?”

“I’m taking you to the track,” I tell her, moving across to her closet and pushing through the door before tearing open her underwear drawer and pulling out the smallest thong I can possibly find. I toss it toward her, and she fumbles to catch it without dropping her towel. “I’m racing and I want you there. And then as soon as I’ve defended my title, I’m spending the rest of the night showing you just how fucking good it gets.”

Bri scoffs and moves into the closet before shoving me out of the way and dropping the thong back in. “I’m not going to the party. I’m glad you won your game, and I’m sure you’ll win your race too, but you and me in the same room together is dangerous.”

Finding a black lace bra, I pull it out and shove it toward her before searching through the rest of her drawers and finding an old band tee and a pair of ripped jeans that I know curves around her ass in all the right places.

“Get dressed, Brielle,” I say, turning toward her and meeting her stare. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not, so you can either dress yourself and come willingly—”

“Or?” she cuts me off.

“Or I will more than happily tear that towel off your sexy as fuck body and dress you myself. Don’t think for one second I won’t throw you over my shoulder and drag you there kicking and screaming. I’m not leaving here without you, and I’m not missing my race either, so take your pick.”

Brielle glares at me, and I see the exact moment she gives in. “Fine,” she mutters before jamming her hand against my chest and pushing me out of her closet.

High on the adrenaline of getting my way, I lumber toward her bed and drop down again, knowing it won’t be a long wait. I’ve seen her getting ready for school in the mornings and it takes her all of three seconds to race through her morning routine, though as a general rule, she’s always running late.

She emerges from the closet a few minutes later, dressed in the outfit I’d chosen for her, looking good enough to eat … fuck, maybe that’s exactly what I’ll do.

She crosses the room to the full-length mirror, studiously ignoring the words blocking her view as she grabs a tube of mascara and brushes it along her thick lashes. She’s fucking captivating. I can’t look away.

She doesn’t apply any more makeup and I’m glad. She doesn’t need it. She’s so fucking stunning that it knocks the oxygen right out of my lungs every time I see her.

Before I know it, we’re out the door and she’s making her way toward her piece of shit Civic. “Nah,” I laugh, pulling the keys out of her hand and shoving them deep into my pocket.

She just stands there, watching me straddle my bike as though she’s never seen one before. “There’s no way in hell I’m about to get on that with you.”

A grin pulls at the corners of my lips as I hold my helmet out to her. “I wasn’t kidding, Killjoy. Either get your ass on my bike, or I’ll put you there myself, and trust me, throwing you around is only going to make me want you more.”


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