Follow Me Always (Follow Me #3) Read Online Helen Hardt

Categories Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Follow Me Series by Helen Hardt
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 91862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
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“Fine,” I finally relent. “I’ll…email him. Or text him. I won’t call him.”

“That’s a start. Thanks, Skye.”

“If this turns into something worse, I’m coming after you,” I say.

“Got it. You can punch me in the nose or something.”

I can’t help a short laugh. What the heck can I ever do to Ben Black? A big fat lot of nothing. “Don’t think I won’t.”

“I absolutely think you will. I knew from the first time we met that Braden had met his match. I think that might be part of the problem here.”

“Problem?”

“You’re too much alike. That’s what attracted him to you in the first place.”

Again, he’s not wrong. Braden admitted he was drawn to my need for control. Almost as if he wanted to break me. And I allowed it. I gave him my control, which led to the most amazing things I’d ever experienced.

But maybe…

Maybe he doesn’t actually want ultimate control over me.

Maybe that part of him is an illusion.

And maybe he’s finding that out for himself now. Maybe that’s what has him confused.

I’m near home. Even as the cabbie drives, I sit on the edge of my seat as my rural home comes into view. Green. Kansas is so green compared to Boston. Cornfields line each side of the county road.

“This has been interesting, Ben,” I say, “but I have to go. I’m almost home.”

“Got it. Just think about what I said, okay?”

“Sure. I said I’d text him.” Of course, I didn’t say when.

I’ll think about it. Could I do anything about it? Not really. I’m not about to go begging to Braden for him to take me back. As much as I want to be with him, as much as I love him, I’ll never beg for anything.

“Good. Have a nice time at home, Skye.”

“I will. And Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“If you get a chance, tell Braden…”

“Yeah? Tell him what?”

“Just tell him I said hi.”

“Okay. Will do. Bye.”

I shove my phone back in my purse as the cab parks. Will Ben tell Braden I said hi? If he does, he’ll also have to tell him he called me, which may not go over well.

“Thanks so much.” I pay the cab driver and take the luggage he pulled out of the trunk for me.

Then I draw in a deep breath.

I’m home. My birthplace.

Time to figure out who I truly am.

Time to figure out why that neck binding is so important to me.

I smile and turn the knob on the front door. I know it’s open, as we’ve never locked our doors. We live in the safest place on the planet.

I walk in.

And my jaw nearly drops to the floor.

Chapter Nine

My mother sits on the blue sofa in our small living room. My father sits in his old leather recliner.

They have a visitor.

In the faded brocade armchair sits Braden Black.

My flesh freezes, and my fingers release my suitcase. It drops to the floor with a loud thud and topples onto its side.

“Honey!” Mom rises and pulls me into a hug. “What are you doing here?”

A few seconds lapse before my voice works. “I live here. At least I used to. What’s his excuse?”

“Mr. Black… Er…Braden called earlier today and asked if he could come by.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were in a relationship, Skye?” my father queries.

“Because I’m not in one,” I say.

Braden clears his throat then, rises, and walks toward me. “I realize how this may look.”

How this may look? My feelings are a whirlwind inside me. Am I happy to see him? Angry at his presumptuousness? A little of both. Mostly I’m perplexed. That word he loves so much.

Not much perplexes me, Skye.

“It looks like you’re spying on me,” I reply.

“Why would your boyfriend spy on you?” Mom asks.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say adamantly. “He’s a thirty-five-year-old man, and I don’t have a clue what he’s doing here.”

“He came to meet us,” Dad says.

“Without bothering to tell me,” I say.

“I was in the area,” Braden says, “so naturally, I thought I’d stop by to say hello to your parents.”

“Braden, what the—”

“Come with me.” He ushers me back out the front door. Then, “What are you doing here?”

“Uh…I think I already made that clear. I live here.”

“You don’t. Your home is in Boston.”

“My parents’ home is my home. That’s what they’ve always told me. I sure as hell have a lot more right to be here than you do. What the fuck, Braden?”

“I didn’t mean for you to find out. Why are you here?”

I whip my hands to my hips. “I don’t have to explain that to you, but you sure have to explain it to me. What are you doing in my parents’ house?”

He sears me with that sapphire-blue gaze. That gaze that says, “Don’t test me, Skye.” Well, too late for any of that. He can no longer punish me.


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