Short Bed Time Stories For Adults Novels & Stories

After tucking her in and covering her with the comforter, Iliana spoke. "I want a bed-time story mother." "Your father will read one to you. Adam, please read our little dart a bed-time story." Brenda said as both Iliana and Brenda made puppy faces at Adam. "You know I can't refuse you both when you make such faces." Adam said as Brenda and Iliana started laughing. "Okay, okay, be quiet and let this father tell you both an amazing bed time story." "Yes father." "Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a beautiful princess."

A subdued silence enveloped the fireplace after Shango’s story, interrupted only by the occasional chirping of the night crickets. “That does not count as a bedtime story,’’ Babybaby finally found her voice. “It is child,’’ the thunder god answered. “No it’s not’’ Babybaby insisted quite stubbornly. “bedtime stories are supposed to be a nice tales with happy ending, all bedtime fairytales are, like the ones Amaka used to read to me, this one is a stupid story.’’

He watched every second, jaw tight, eyes locked on my lips stretched around the thick toy. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now tell me the truth. How many times have you come with my name on your lips while Jenna slept ten feet away?” “Hundreds,” I admitted, voice completely wrecked. “Every time she left the apartment. Every night you stayed over for Christmas. I’d lock myself in the bathroom or wait until she was asleep and finger myself until I couldn’t walk, whispering ‘Daddy’ into my pillow so no one would hear how badly I needed you.”

He sits on the edge of the bed. “Tell me a story,” I murmur. “It’ll help me sleep faster.” He looks away. “I’m not good with stories… but I'll try” He exhales, looking up at the ceiling. “Years ago,” there's a long pause. “Years ago, a family of three lived happily together.” His eyes meet mine again, and I try to hold eye contact. But my eyelids are already fluttering, and I can't say a word. “Until the mother and her son discovered something,” he continues. “Something that got her…” He doesn't look at me anymore. “The mother discoverered…”

To say that I’m screwed would be an understatement. I have another confession to make. I’m currently crouched and hiding under his bed. The very one that he’s occupying. It’s getting late now, almost two in the morning. It’s been raining outside for nearly an hour. Every time I think he’s asleep, he shifts and mutters something in his sleep.

I had begun the life of a nanny and was happy working there, even though my boss was not very verbal. We rarely converse. I let out a yawn as I finished cleaning, I was exhausted. I went straight to my room, grabbing new sets of clothes before heading for the shower. After a long and relaxing shower, I finally left the bathroom. I was about to lay on the bed when I heard a car honk. "That must be him." I murmured, getting on the bed and covering myself up. I snuggled into bed about to drift off to sleep when I heard the sound of something crashing loudly and it seemed to be coming from the living room.

Micah cracked one eye open and grumbled, “Where’s my bedtime story?” Adrian scooped him up, kissed his sandy hair. “I’ll tell you one.” Zaya reached for me, sleepy and small and safe. I carried her inside, her head tucked under my chin — her soft breaths a promise that the future could be gentle, if we let it. We lay curled together in that tiny beachside cabana, the windows cracked open to let in the hush of the waves. Adrian’s voice drifted through the dark, telling the children about two wolves and two sisters and the lie that became a truth that saved them all.

"I want to stay with you now. I miss you so much." "I know, sweetheart. How about Mommy tells you a really fun story? You get some sleep, and when you wake up, I promise I'll stay a few extra hours with you. How does that sound?" "You promise?" "Pinky swear!" I cross my fingers and kiss them. "Okay." I help him get comfortable in bed and sit in a chair to start telling him the story. "I want the story of The Girl with the Red Hood." "Oh wow, that's not exactly a bedtime story, Alex!" I grumble. "How about something more…"

That I also used that spoon just moments ago? My face heated up, and I avoided his gaze. “I'm going to the bathroom.” I quickly tell him and then I run out of the room, so as to not make a fool of myself again.. ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ That night, before I left, Sophia and Franklin asked me to tell them a bedtime story. Even though I had experiences in putting Xavier and Clayton to sleep, I only knew of the story of the three little pigs and of course Cinderella but my boys weren't ever interested in that second one.

I’m going to take a small, well-deserved nap, but I’ll be back with new stories and new characters to obsess over soon enough. Have fun, enjoy the final read, and I'll catch you all later! — Curvy Writes