The Anti-Fan and the Idol – My Summer in Seoul Read Online Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, New Adult, Novella, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 36143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
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I look down.

“Fuck!” I quickly shove my hand in front of my hardening dick. I mean, seriously. Over a high-five? Really? I can’t leave without running into Jisoo, and I can’t turn around because of Ah-Ri. “Help!”

“I like women.” Haneul laughs harder.

“Not like that, you bastard. And you know it!” I grit my teeth. “Distract Jisoo.”

He slowly gets to his feet. “Fine, but you owe me. Oh, and we will be talking about this later.”

“Not if I can help it,” I grumble.

Footfalls sound behind me.

Shit. Ah-Ri is coming out of the booth.

She’s going to see my boner and think that what we did is all it takes to turn me on. Which I guess is maybe semi-true but not typical. And, hell, she’s probably going to faint.

I’m going to make my bandmate faint in shock and horror on day two of rehearsal.

I quickly look around for an escape when Haneul gets Jisoo’s attention and leads her to the corner.

I bolt toward the door and hear Ah-Ri say my name.

“Be right back.” I don’t look back.

I kick open the door and run to the bathroom down the hall, thanking the universe that it’s close.

I lock myself in one of the stalls and look down. “You’ve got to be shitting me!”

Sure, it’s been a while.

Like two years since I’ve even had a random one-night stand.

I’ve been busy, though!

Really, really, really busy.

I can either stay in the stall until my body calms down or take care of the situation so it doesn’t happen again today.

Especially during dance rehearsal.

I never should have let my thoughts go there with Ah-Ri. From here on out, I need to be laser focused. No wondering about her skin or taste or anything even remotely romantic.

I pull my sweatpants down and grip myself. Damn, it feels good—too good. I lean my other hand against the stall and pump up and down my length. My body trembles.

And, of course, as I jack myself…

I see her face.

My teeth clench.

Her hands.

Her singing.

Her mouth.

Before I know it, I’m spilling into my hand, the toilet, and narrowly miss my legs.

I’m panting, standing there feeling guilty as hell.

And the worst part?

I don’t think it’s going to be my last time having to do this.

Shit.

Chapter Six

Ah-Ri

Jisoo barely said two words to me but was at least nice when I met her at the studio. Apparently, there are plans for all of us to go to the apartment and have our first group dinner tonight.

Though given the way Ryan’s been treating me since this morning, I’m wondering if it’s a setup so he can push me off the building.

He’s been completely opposite what he was like earlier at the studio. Everything I do with the choreography is wrong, to the point where he keeps stopping the music.

“Again.” His chest heaves and sweat pours down his face.

I take my position next to him and do the eight count. I spin around him, ending up in front of him. I roll my hips. His hands go there, gripping me so softly I’m confused. He spins me around and slides through my legs—it’s the part of the song where he’s rapping. He comes back toward me. I’m in perfect sync with him when he grabs me from behind again and rolls our bodies together.

I gasp at how lightly he’s holding me.

Now it’s my turn to stop the music. “I’m not going to break.”

“What?” He snags a towel and wipes his face. “What the hell do you mean?”

“The choreography is going to look like shit if you’re afraid to touch me.” I put my hands on my hips. “Look, I know I’m not your favorite person in the world, but I thought we were at least making progress.”

He sneers and tosses the towel. “You thought wrong.”

I knew I shouldn’t have trusted those easy smiles in the booth or the teasing; he was just happy that he was getting what he wanted.

Another body to fill the group, one who doesn’t suck.

My chest cracks a bit as he ignores me and starts typing away on his phone as if he doesn’t even care about me enough to listen.

“Whatever,” I grumble. “Just grab me harder. Otherwise, we won’t be able to sell the song or the choreography and it will look weak.”

He puts his phone away. “Maybe if you stopped messing up—”

“Shut up, Ryan.” I turn the music back on and wait for him to join me.

He looks pissed.

When it’s time for him to grab me, he jerks my body against his so hard I nearly stumble. I can feel every sweaty inch of him.

Maybe not the best idea I’ve ever had.

He’s all heated muscle under that loose T-shirt.

His right hand splays across my stomach as our hips move in sync. He leans in. I see his reflection in the mirror. I’m in great shape, yet I’m out of breath.


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