Read Not In My Wildest Dreams (Dream Series) for Free Online Page B

breathing in the air from my cigarette would make them sick. My whole family smoked and we’re all fine. But the look on Rebecca’s face said she was not going to back down.
    “Um, sorry,” I muttered, shoving the pack back into my pocket. Fuck! Now I had to find a way to quit. This whole New York thing was just getting better and better.
    “And, I’m not sure what ideas you may have socked away in your head, but there will be no sex. So, if your overactive eighteen year old brain has any designs in that arena, you can turn your cute ass around and get out.”
    “Yes. I mean no. I mean, I wasn’t thinking that at all. I mean you’re beautiful and what guy wouldn’t want to—but, no. I like brunettes anyway.”
    A bizarre smirk hit her lips, which she quickly tucked away, resuming her stonewall face.
    “Your room is the first door on the right. The bathroom is across the hall from there. Keep your bathroom clean, and the toilet seat down.”
    Yes, sir!
    “Can I get you a drink?” she offered, pointing behind me to a long table loaded with every kind of liquor you could imagine.
    Okay, I have whiplash now. Scolding me and barking orders one minute and offering me a drink the next? Is this what it’s going to be like living with her?
    “Um, I guess, yeah? What have you got?”
    “Whatever you’d like,” she said, knocking back the rest of her martini. She sauntered over and started to make herself another one. The song on the record changed and now Donna Summer was belting Bad Girls, and Rebecca was in full rockin’ mode acting like Ms. Summer herself, oblivious to me.
    I grabbed a can of Budweiser from the tiny fridge under the table that held all the booze and headed off to check out my new room. I was about to say something to Rebecca, but she was in her own little world.
    As far as bedrooms went, this one was good. I mean real good. It was much like the rest of the place, modern and clean lines. But where the living room was whites and light color woods, this room was dark woods and creams. The bed was on a solid dark-wood box, and looked to be very sturdy. I dropped my bag on the floor next to the matching dresser and set the can of beer on the bedside table. I laid down on the very comfortable bed for a minute and considered my incredibly weird last few months.
    I had been a stock boy in the grocery store of a town where I didn’t get the most respect, due to my family’s status of less than smart kids, and a couple of bitches. Some chick sees me and gives me this crazy notion to come out to New York City and try modeling. I’m knocked down for a few months while bussing tables and fixing shit in a crappy motel. I finally got a break which lead to an offer to stay with a model who seemed perhaps more than a little off-balance. Now, here I was in a very chic place, and being pushed around by said off-balance woman. Seemed like a fucking wild dream. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wake up or not.

CHAPTER 7

    N ot sure how much time passed, but I had apparently fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Rebecca was at the door calling my name. I sat up and rubbed my face.
    “Yeah? What? I’m up,” I said, trying to adjust my sight to the now dark room and light spilling in from the hallway.
    “Next time, use a coaster. Please,” she said, marching over to the bedside table, picking up the beer can, and wiping the ring of water off.
    “Yeah, sure. ‘Course. Sorry,” I stammered. Why was I letting this girl intimidate me? Oh yeah, she was nearly as tall as I was, a successful model with a bank account to match, and knew how to throw her weight around. And it was her place.
    “I’m ordering take out. Do you like Chinese? Or pizza?” she asked, a hand perched on her hip.
    “Um, whatever you want,” I answered, dragging myself out of bed.
    “Fine. Chinese it is,” she said, and walked out.
    What was this chick’s problem? She offered me a place to stay, and was being a total bitch. I