BOOK 1: The Bad Boy's Roommate - EDITING

6. Nightmare

Tried updating last night but I wasn't really in the mood for it. Thanks for getting this story to 100 reads, guys! This chapter isn't my best work, but I just felt like I needed to update. Please vote or comment on this chapter if you enjoy it - don't be afraid to leave some constructive critisism, but please don't just be rude for the sake of it :)

My breathing was quickly becoming ragged as I pulled Reagan as close as he could possibly get. His skin was heating up, and when I touched it, it had that clammy feel to it. I could see the beads of sweat appearing on his forehead as our kiss became even more heated. Finally deciding that we couldn't take any more, we moved over to the bed. Regan wasted no time in pulling off his shirt; he got it over his head and onto the floor within seconds, which only made my stomach churn - he must have had a lot of practice in taking his clothes off.

But we still carried on. Reagan unbuttoned the front of my shirt, becoming a little frustrated with the buttons as his fingers messed around with them individually until he reached the middle of the shirt. In the end, Reagan decided that it would be quicker to just rip the top in half. It fell to the floor in a heap of thin material which shocked me, but made me giggle a little. Reagan raised his eyebrow as he peeked down at the two halves of the top lying helplessly on the floor.

"That was my favourite," I pouted, looking into Reagan's blue eyes which absorbed me completely.

"Shame, I didn't like it that much." Reagan mumbled. The farmiliar smirk that had suddenly become his trademark appeared on his pink lips. I noticed that they were slightly chapped. I should probably offer him my lip balm later. I thought to myself as I lifted my hand up towards his face and traced the bumps on his lips with my index finger. He bit his lip again, preventing me from touching his bottom lip any more.

Slowly, he pushed me backwards onto the duvet, making sure that I was still happy with what was happening. I nodded up at him, smiling warmly as he did so. I'd forgotten all about being mad at him for stealing the money out of my purse, which was funny, as I felt like murdering him a few hours ago; now I just couldn't get enough of him. Reagan rested his weight on his elbows and hovered above me, the grin appearing on his features again. Kicking off his trousers quickly, I eyed up every inch of his body, from his muscular torso, to the way his thighs and calfs were structured so perfectly. Even though his skin was pale, it matched the tone of my skin perfectly. The lights in my bedroom were dim so that he wouldn't be able to see how madly I was blushing right now; my cheeks felt as though they were engulfed by flames when he stared into my hazelnut eyes. He looked into them like he couldn't get enough of them. He looked down at me from above, knowing that now, he was in complete control, and I knew he was loving it. I knew his character from previous schools and encounters with boys, he was the dominant one, the one that I had tried so hard to avoid because I was afraid. I'd always hated when my friends developed crushes on the typical 'bd boys' at my school, but now I could see why they just couldn't stay away. They had that confidence and charisma about them that good boys just didn't have.

My eyes snapped open and I sat upright in my bed. As I turned to my clock, I noted that it was just coming up to 6am. I was annoyed, as it was my day off today, which meant that I should have still been sound asleep, dreaming about something other than Reagan.

I peeled myself off the sheets that were soaked in stone cold sweat and sat on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands. Had I just dreamt that? Or had it actually happened the night before? I had no idea.

Assuming it was just a terrible dream, I grabbed at my dressing gown and pulled on a pair of thick socks. The heating hadn't been very reliable lately, and so Reagan and I had been walking around wrapped up so tightly in bundles of clothes as if we were just about to step out into the Antarctic.

I pulled open my door slowly, checking down the hall to see if Reagan's bedroom door was open. It wasn't, and so realising that he must have still been asleep, I edged myself into the living room and hit the sofa with a thud. I slammed my eyes shut and tried to go back to sleep, hoping that a better dream would come and erase any remnants of the one I had just woken up from. To my disappointment, the flashbacks from the previous dream didn't go away, and were still just as vivid as when I'd first experienced them.

I decided that I needed to do something with myself in order to forget about the hideous dream that had invaded my sleep. As my lectures weren't every day I would have to find another way to occupy myself. I mentally cursed myself for managing to complete that essay a few nights ago, and for keeping up to date with my studies; at least if I was behind on something, I would have something else to focus on. Maybe I could go and ask for some extra work, but I didn't want to look like a complete loser in front of the others.

I started off by having a shower, washing my hair, shaving and trying to cleanse myself physically of the nightmarish thoughts. Despite scrubbing my skin until it was literally sore and blotchy with red spots, cleaning myself didn't seem to have any effect on my mental state. In the end I gave up and hopped out of the shower to dry myself off, wrapping a towel around myself and shivvering as my feet hit the cold tiles.

I couldn't be bothered with my looks today, and so decided on wearing just a simple grey hoodie with skinny jeans. I covered my long, messy hair with a beanie hat, not caring that it was a little frayed and dull from where I'd worn it so much last Winter. I finally emerged out of my room a few hours later, after tidying and scrubbing it from top to bottom. I also changed my bedding and threw that into the washing machine, along with a few dirty items of clothing that had been strewn across the floor not long ago.

I was exhausted after all the cleaning and took a well earned break for lunch. I hadn't checked my phone in a while, and decided that I needed to get out of the house and agreed to meet Brianna in Starbucks in a few hours time. I wasn't going to mention the dream to her. I never wanted to speak of that to anyone; it was just too humiliating.

Reagan finally dragged himself out of bed while I was eating lunch, which was a challenge in itself, as I wasn't able to look him in the eye like usual. I cringed as flashbacks of my dream riddled my mind.

"You know, Princess, the first sign of madness is constant cleaning." Reagan laughed. He nodded his head towards the bright yellow gloves that my hands were covered with. I was currently scrubbing the floor in an attempt to keep myself occupied. If I did any more cleaning today, the house would literally be sparkling.

"Who says I'm going mad? Maybe I just wanna take pride in my home, unlike some people," I spat back, continuing with my chores. Reagan strolled across the area that I'd just cleaned and I could hear him laugh under his breath. He knew exactly how to get to me, but I tried my best to ignore him as I carried on, going back over the area that I'd spent ages on, cleaning away the footprints Reagan had left behind him.

Reagan chuckled again, pulling his duvet over to the sofa and wrapping himself up in it. He pulled a bowl of pasta off the table where he had just set it and placed it on his lap, scoffing it down in record time; I'd never seen anyone eat so fast.

I soon realised that I was staring, and forced myself to look away when Reagan caught my eye. I watched as he raised his eyebrow at me from the corner of my eye and bit the inside of my lip, trying my best not to laugh as I was trying to act as though I hadn't seen him. I hated when people made me laugh when I was trying my best to stay mad at them.

"Why don't you come and join me? You look like you need a break, anyway." Reagan proposed. I shook my head and dumped the sponge in the bucket of soapy water that was beside me on the floor.

"I'm alright, thanks. I've got to finish this, anyways." I mumbled, more to myself than to Reagan. Hearing myself turn down his offer out loud made me a little stronger on the inside, as I felt like someone inside of me was screaming to join him on the sofa. But I wouldn't. I had sworn to him and to myself that I wasn't going to fall for him. I knew he was just acting nice so that I thought he had turned a corner, but I wasn't going to back down that easily

"Whatever you say, Princess. I just hope that one day I can get you on your hands and knees for me as easily as you have gotten on them today."

I spluttered, choking on my own saliva. My eyes widened as I looked over at Reagan, who was now looking smugly into his bowl of half finished pasta. When he raised his head again, he was wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at me. The whole thing made me want to hurl.

"Get over yourself, jerk." I snapped. Reagan roared with laughter then, kicking his feet up from the sofa, grabbing his stomach. He wiped his eye once he'd finished laughing. I just sat on the floor with an eyebrow raised. My face spelt out really?

"Oh, Princess. Just give it some time." half of Reagan's mouth was turned up in a cheeky smile which actually made my insides melt a little. On the outside, I was acting as pissed off at him as I could get. "They're always like this in the beginning, but then they just can't keep away." he added.

Reagan switched on the TV then and seemed to forget his little suggestion. Maybe he was genuine, and maybe he had a real interest in me. But the other half of me realised that he must have gone through this with every girl he'd ever dated or hooked up with. He wasn't ever 'interested' in anyone, he just acted like he was so he would get what he wanted. He'd soon give up and move on to someone else when he realised that I really wasn't into him.

I resumed with my cleaning, thinking about something else than Reagan for a change, because to be quite honest, my own thoughts were beginning to make me dizzy. Luckily, Reagan didn't say anything, and I completely forgot he was there, until he stood up from the sofa and stepped over the area of the floor that I'd just cleaned. As he left the room, I threw the sponge in the direction of the door, slumping into a sitting position and gritting my teeth, preventing myself from shouting out any insults from behind him. He just wanted the attention, and I wasn't going to give him that.