Book Stand To Read In Bed Novels & Stories

One side of the bed was indented, the pillow still holding the faint impression of a head. Min’s gaze was drawn to the bedside table. A half-empty glass of water stood next to a worn leather-bound book and a bottle of expensive, unbranded lotion. He walked to the table on legs that felt like they were made of jelly. He reached out, his fingers hovering over the book, before his attention was caught by the source of the scent.

Not even his room was that clean. By the nightstand, there were two candle stands with big candles on them that had been lit a couple of times before, judging by the burnt mark on the top and wax on the sides. There was a reading table by the window that had a few books neatly stacked up together in alphabetical order and one that was opened. A tea table in the room had two chairs and very ripe fruits on the table. The room was spotlessly clean. It was small but manageable. He entered the room, set his sleeping bird on the nightstand, and sat on the bed. The bed was soft like feathers, his body moved onto the bed. With his eyes, half closed he enjoyed the nice feeling of the bed on his back.

I sighed. His black loungewear contrasted with the cream-colored bedsheets. I walked over, gently plucked the book from his grasp, and held it up with mock disapproval. I sat beside him and suggested, "Instead of reading, how about I tell you a bedtime story?" Amusement flickered in his eyes. "That drink is hitting you pretty hard," he said with a smirk tugging at his lips. I waved away his comment and patted my thigh invitingly. "Come on, it will put you to sleep fast! Don always liked to rest his head on my lap, and often fell asleep like that..."

I nodded and walked away. I made good on my decision to bring the laptop stand to Alexa. I found the stand buried under a pile of old files. It was a sturdy, adjustable model—perfect for someone who needed to work from bed. I also grabbed a solid, slanting pillow that would help prop her head up without straining her neck. When I returned to Alexa’s ward, I found her trying to type on her laptop, the device perched precariously on her lap. She looked up as I approached, her eyes lighting up when she saw what I was carrying.

After that, I have a light dinner, then drift to sleep with a book in my hand. My body jerks awake to find my room dimly lit, the only source of light being the bedside lamp on the nightstand to my left. I tilt my head, rubbing my eyes as I see him sitting with his legs crossed, my book in his hand. Why is he reading it? I question myself as I sit up in bed. “You’re awake,” he says, shutting the book and placing it on the small table beside him. He pushes a bag towards me with his foot, and I think it’s a dream.

Like someone exhaling from a long sleep. I closed the book gently, my fingers rested on the leather cover. Then I stood and placed it on the shelf in my room, between a cracked mug with a cartoon pancreas on it and a worn copy of my anatomy textbook. I decided to bask in the moment, enjoy it as much s I could and try not to think of anything bad.

Flushing with heat, I said, the feeling of being silly standing with the oversized clothes that once belonged to him was bursting within me with each passing moment. "You apologize for everything, and when it is no need to," He said before returning the book on its rightful place with the other stacks of books on the small nightstand on the corner before his long legs started striding towards the ante bathroom. Standing utterly alone in the large room, I did not know what else to do. Was I to wait for him? sleep? Where? Surely, not in the large bed. I was not going to sleep on it with him. Was I? Walking around the room in confusion and bewilderment, I stopped before the small nightstand whe

He stood for a moment, scanning his eyes all around the neatly arranged room. “What could she have in store for me?” He mumbled underneath his breath as he walked towards the queen sized bed which was covered with a pure white sheet. The bed was empty and he looked at the shelf beside the bed which had a few books. He picked one of the books and flipped through the pages quickly. “She loves reading,” he said with a smile. “Her study,” he said again with his eyes looking at the left side of the room where a bookshelf was standing. He walked over to the study room, looking at the pieces of papers scattered on the table.

He had a large bed built of dark wood, and it was easily the most expensive piece in the room. Abby couldn't stop herself from wondering what it would be like to be in that bed with him. She flushed, biting the inside of her cheek. Running a hand down the comforter, she smiled at how soft it was. So he likes nice bedding. She could appreciate a man who understood the importance of high-thread counts. The right side table had some books, an empty glass, and a pair of reading glasses. Abby read the titles of the books—all nonfiction about wars or horses—and wandered around the rest of the room.

He mutters with a tamed flush, not the wild ones I've been seeing on his lips recently. "Yes," I say with a nod. I'm left in my bra and panties, he gathers my clothes and places it on the large bedside table close to us where some books are on top. "Who has these books, you?" My curious mind prompts me to ask. "Yes, I did drop them there the last time I came here." I look at the study shelves at the extreme, with books filled. Bookworms, just like me, love having some books in their bedroom, so when they are bored, they can easily reach out to it without having to go to the library.