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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Carver watches me a second longer before finally letting out a breath and indicating with a nod of his head to follow. “Come,” he says, his tone filled with authority. He starts walking away, and I quickly follow him, keeping close behind him as he slowly walks through the house.

For a brief moment, I wonder if he’s taking me to some secret room that holds all the answers. Maybe I’m going to get a full rundown of everything Dynasty, complete with a slideshow presentation. But when he reaches the front foyer and curls his fingers around the handle, I pause. Where the fuck is he taking me?

“Are you coming?” Carver asks, looking back at me when I don’t walk through the door.

“Where are we going?”

He doesn’t respond, just simply walks out the door, leaving it wide open and making it clear as day that I can either go with him now and find out what I’ve been dying to know, or I can run back up to my room where I can sleep with my monsters in the dark.

I hurry out the door.

I catch up to him on the stairs and ignore the smug expression that crosses his handsome face when the cool night breeze hits my skin. Instantly I regret racing out of my room in nothing but a loose crop, a pair of cotton booty shorts, and bare feet.

We get to the bottom of the stairs and I fold my arms over my chest, trying to keep warm. I glance at Carver, assuming that he’s about to give me some kind of instructions, or at least a hint of what the hell is going on, but after meeting his hard stare, he just keeps walking.

I let out a sigh and follow him in silence, the tension growing between us with each step, or maybe it’s just because with each step I take, my feet only seem to freeze just a little bit more.

We reach the top of his driveway and I watch closely as he enters the code 0225, instantly committing it to memory. The gate slowly slides open, and as I stand on the spot waiting for the fucker, my feet seem to scream against the cold driveway. When I look at Carver, I realize that he’s also barefoot and probably suffering just as much as I am.

We finally get through the gate and I follow his lead as he turns to the right and starts walking down the long path. I glance back over my shoulder, having expected to turn the other way toward the main road, but I keep quiet and let him lead, hoping that he’s not about to lead me into a trap and regret my decision to give him a chance.

The further we walk, the louder the silence gets, and as the tension grows, I find myself forgetting about the cold and thinking about that number—0225. Is it just a number, or is there some kind of significance? Maybe a date? The 25th of February. I wonder if that’s his birthday, maybe his parents’ anniversary or something like that. Either way, the number is now etched into my brain like a cheesy song from the nineties.

My mind wanders with endless possibilities. By the time we reach the massive house at the end of the road, I’m convinced that 0225 is the date that Carver lost his virginity. Possibly to a thirty-three-year-old sugar baby who was looking for a good screw before going home to pretend her sixty-year-old husband can satisfy her in bed.

“What are we doing here?” I ask as Carver enters the code for the massive gates out front, again entering the same numbers—0225—and really messing with my head. I could have sworn the code that Cruz entered into the gate last week was different. Maybe they’ve changed it, or perhaps all the boys have separate codes to identify who’s entering. That makes more sense.

The gate slides back and Carver makes a ridiculous little gesture, offering for me to go in first. If it were coming from Cruz or King, I’d laugh and skip past them as though I was royalty. But coming from Carver, it seems like a challenge, almost like an insult. So, I keep my head high and walk through to the impressive property at the end of the street.

We make our way to the front door, and just as Cruz had done when we first came here, Carver enters the code for the door and welcomes himself in.

I follow in behind him, instantly letting out a relieved sigh as the warmth of the house immediately begins seeping back into my body. “Okay,” I ask Carver as he walks deeper into the grand foyer. “Why the hell do you all have codes for this house when it’s obviously not yours, and why the hell do you guys keep making me break in here?”


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