The Nature of Cruelty Read Online Free L.H. Cosway

Categories Genre: College, Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 120326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
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“I love you,” he whispers, taking my earlobe into his mouth and sucking on it slowly.

“Somebody’s going to see,” I tell him, worried but still unable to break away.

I turn in his arms to hug him from the front, my breasts straining against his chest. When I rest my head next to his heart, he sighs softly.

“Let’s get out of here. I want to take you to dinner.”

“Dinner sounds good,” I say, breathing in his scent.

His fingers press into my ribs with need just before he pulls away and drags me back to my desk. He begins shoving my books inside my bag for me, then pauses, breathing deeply, and turns to face me.

“I’m sorry. I’m being too pushy, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re fine. But I can pack up my own things.” I laugh.

He steps away and allows me to finish, rubbing his hand up and down my back as I do. I practically vibrate with joy at how comforting his touch is. “How are you feeling these days? You been sick at all?”

There’s such concern in his voice that it takes me a moment to reply. “I’ve been good…health-wise, anyway.”

“And otherwise?” he asks quietly, rubbing more tenderly now.

“Otherwise, I’m kind of shitty.”

His answering chuckle is full of affection. “Otherwise, I’ve been kind of shitty, too.”

We leave campus, and Robert takes me to a fancy restaurant on Dawson Street. He seems very interested to hear about my thesis and what I’m writing it on. I explain the topic to him, but I’m too embarrassed to let him know how my experiences with him inspired me. By the perceptive look in his eyes, I’d say he’s guessed that part for himself anyway.

He tells me all about his film studies course and how interesting he’s finding it as we eat a delicious meal.

Afterwards Robert offers to bring me to see the new apartment he’s going to be moving into. When we get there, I find it’s a brand-new building with lots of tall, leafy trees on the grounds. Robert’s place is on the fourth floor. It’s big but empty, the only item of furniture being a dark brown leather sofa.

“I’m, uh, working on making it my own,” he says, chagrined. “I still have to get a bed, and basically everything else, as you can see.”

“It’s nice. I can see you being happy here.”

He smiles and nods, but there’s something missing in his eyes.

I walk over to the window, liking how the trees make for a pleasant view outside.

“You’re welcome to stay whenever you like. I mean, if you’re ever studying late in the library and miss the last train, you can have the couch.”

I swallow, turning to him and acknowledging the generous offer. It would be nice to have a crash pad close to college.

“Thanks,” I whisper as we stare at each other across the empty apartment.

Exiting the building, we walk back to where he parked his car. It’s late, so I agree to let him drive me home instead of dropping me off at the station. It’s a quiet, contemplative sort of drive. I keep sensing him sneaking quick glances at me every couple of minutes, as though he’s overjoyed just to have me here in his car alone.

We’re almost home when I get the overwhelming urge to escape the silence that’s chock-full of unspoken emotional words I’m not brave enough to speak, so I turn the radio on low. A DJ’s voice fills the speakers before one of my favourite songs in recent months comes on, “Anything Could Happen” by Ellie Goulding. It has this really uplifting beat that always manages to cheer me. If a fairy ever wrote a pop song, this is exactly what it would sound like.

Without thinking, I close my eyes and begin singing along quietly to the lyrics. Somewhere in between Robert takes my fingers in his. When the song is over, I open my eyes and see that the car has stopped. We’re parked outside Liz’s house. Robert reaches forward to turn off the radio, and then he pushes the button to draw down his window. It’s dark out, and all I can hear are the waves from the beach as they crash against the shore.

“I love hearing you sing,” he whispers, his voice tender.

Both our heads rest against the backs of our seats, our faces turned to one another. We stay locked in the moment, our gazes connected. I breathe out and he breathes my air in, a symbol of how vitally we need one another.

Suddenly flustered, I draw my fingers from his and pick up my bag. “It’s late. I’d better get home before Mum sends out a search party.”

He stops me and grabs the bag from my hands. “Not yet, please. Come take a walk with me. It’s a beautiful night.”

Unable to say no when he looks at me like that, I nod and slip out of the car. He walks around to my side, draping his coat over my shoulders and taking my hand again. Even though it’s mid-October, the nights haven’t gotten too cold yet. The air is crisp and fresh, full of the salty smell of the sea. We walk down the sandy path to the beach, where it’s blissfully empty, the two of us the only people around for miles.

I sit down on the sand, pulling Robert’s coat snug around me. It smells of him, filling my senses and setting my body alight with awareness. He lowers himself down beside me. I stare straight ahead, watching the dark sea and allowing my hands to drift in the sand, feeling the grains fall through my fingers.

“Do you know, when you walked into Sasha’s kitchen at the start of the summer, I had no clue what way to be around you,” he says, voice soft.

I glance up at him and smile. “That’s funny, because I felt the exact same way.”

His expression grows warm. “I felt like a complete arsehole calling you ‘Tampon’ like I did when we were at school, but I suppose I was just falling back into the bully role, the only role I knew. Then when I paid you compliments, I saw how something sparked behind your eyes, surprise and a tiny sliver of happiness. It was like I’d been waiting my entire life to see that spark. In a split second I realised how easy it was to be nice to you, when all along I’d thought it would be difficult, that it simply wasn’t in my nature to be kind. I had it so twisted. Cruelty is easy, and it breeds only misery. Kindness is harder, and you have to be brave to give it. To be cruel, you can stay closed off from everyone, wear a mask, but to be kind, in essence, to show love, you have to make yourself vulnerable, show your true self to someone and open yourself up to rejection.”


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