Tempting Bad Read Online M. Robinson

Categories Genre: Angst, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
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“Because you’re a heartless motherfucker who won’t take my brother’s cock back.”

“Christine…”

She smiled and patted my head. “I’m just playing.”

The night proceeded without a hitch. Everyone was having a great time except for me; I couldn’t stop thinking about Landon.

The party was winding down and the caterers needed to be paid.

“I’m sorry, I can’t find the check that my mom left me. Can you give me a few minutes? I’ll go try to find my dad’s checkbook.”

They nodded so I went into my dad’s office, rummaging around his desk and paperwork to no avail. I looked everywhere and couldn’t find it. I was about to call him when I remembered the safe he had hidden behind the Picasso painting. After several attempts of unlocking it, I guessed the code. It was my parents’ wedding anniversary.

How quaint…

I opened it, and found the checks right on top. When I pulled them out, there was metallic lettering that caught my eye. I grabbed it; it was a business card. I had never seen it before. It was black with silver lettering on it; it read VIP. I flipped it over; there was a phone number and address, and nothing else.

“That’s weird.” I placed it back in its place and left everything as I had found it.

I paid the caterers and sent them on their way. The house was still packed with people and I tried to have a good time with my friends, but I couldn’t help the plaguing thoughts of the card I had seen. I excused myself from my friends and went to the front of my house, where it was quiet and I could be alone.

I reached for my cell phone in my back pocket and Googled, VIP.

What I found would forever change my life…

In every aspect of the word.

Beautiful women…

Companionship…

Treasured jewels…

My phone slipped out of my hand in disbelief, and as I picked it up, I stared at the cracked screen with a picture of my family. The irony was not lost on me.

I ran.

I grabbed my car keys and drove.

I left my party.

I left my friends.

I left my family.

I drove to the only place that could save me; to the only person that felt like home to me.

Landon.

It was late and I didn’t want to wake him, I wanted to crawl into his bed with him, into his arms and have him hold me, tell me that everything was going to be okay. I was going to tell him that I loved him and that I wanted to be with him. That I always had. Everything was different now; I didn’t want to be like my parents. I wanted to be happy. I wanted my own life with my own experiences and my own decisions. I wasn’t going to let their choices govern my feelings anymore.

I drove with my heart on my sleeve and my stomach in my throat; I found the hidden key under the urn and let myself in. I quietly crept up the stairs toward his bedroom and that’s when I heard him.

He wasn’t alone.

I watched for the second time in my short life, another man that I loved with everything—with all my heart—fuck some other woman in front of me. I shook my head, wanting to break free of the memories that held me together with a padded lock, but I couldn’t.

They were all the same.

Even Landon.

It was as if he felt me because moments later, he looked over at me, not expecting to see me. His face showed every emotion in a matter of seconds, the very same emotions I was sure I had just shared with him, without him even seeing it.

I stepped back.

“Fuck, Brooke!” he shouted, pulling out his wet cock, from her.

“Landon,” she yelled back at him. “Who is this?”

I inherently smiled. “She doesn’t know who I am?”

“Of course not! Why are you here? I’m his girlfriend.”

It was like taking a bullet to the heart. My love for him was splattered all over his bedroom walls, smearing its way down, right along with my dignity and pride.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t… I didn’t… I gotta go.” I turned and ran out of there so fast you would think I was on fire.

He caught me around my waist when I was mere feet away from my car. I turned myself around and went at him. I hit him with everything I could conjure up.

I hit him like he was my father.

I hit him like he was my mother.

I hit him like he was the meaning of the word love displayed in front of me.

I hit him like I hated him.

I hit him for every thrust I saw and witnessed.

I hit him for every emotion that was pouring out of me, leaving me dead and bleeding.

I hit him like he was my worst enemy.


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