Page 36 of Craving the Player

Sierra.

Sierra.

The need to kick something dangles on the edge of feeling almost numbing when my cock grows hard, pressing against the zipper of my jeans. There she sits, all perfect posture and self-aware. Straight faced and confident. Pale peach lips, sharp cheekbones, strong jaw. She doesn’tsmile, pout, or frown. Her full lips remain in astraight line, completely still, like she’spromised herself agiant margarita if she doesn’tso much as budge them with astrong exhale.

The peach blouse she wears is the same shade as her lips, making them pop that much more. It frustrates me that Ican’tfigure out exactly what she’sthinking behind those blank silver eyes and long, thick black lashes. She’sput up awall, it’seasy to tell. One that she doesn’tplan on letting anybody at her table have the chance at sneaking past. Ican’thelp but stare as she briefly narrows her sights on the slightly hunched over man sitting across from her. The same one that Ican see clear as fucking day dragging his foot up her leg from beneath the table.

He’sfucking ballsy.

I’ve never wanted to rip alimb from someone’sbody more than Ido right now. Istand rigid, glaring daggers at the fingers of the guy'sleft hand as they lay on his thigh before bravely travelling away from him, knuckles brushing the outside of Sierra’sexposed knee.

Iblow out ahot gush of air when she flinches, angling herself away from his touch.

She flinches when he tries to touch her, yet invites him for dinner with the other people at the table that Iassume are her family? Confusion clouds my judgment, making it harder to stay calm. My jaw aches from clenching it for so long, but Ican’tmanage to relax it. It feels like I’mabout to slip on my boxing gloves and put on ashow for the entire restaurant.

My lips curl inward at the thought that maybe she’sbeen out, able to fuck around with other people, while Inow have ahard-on for the first time since being inside of her. It’sinfuriating. Absolutely maddening. Aspiked pit grows in my stomach that feels ahell of alot like jealousy.

Every muscle, bone, and fibre in my body wants me to stalk over there and toss the prick from his seat until he’snot even in the same building as Sierra. From the fitted suit jacket and shiny black dress shoes that look like they’ve never been worn before tonight, Iknow that he’shere to impress. And that’sthe last damn thing Iwant to let him do, for reasons that Iwill deny over and over and over again until they burn to ash.

Idon’twant him to see the way her eyes burn with something primal and unapologetic before she tosses out asassy comment or how her bottom lip pulls slightly to the right side when she’snervous. They’re completely selfish thoughts. Ones that Ihave no right thinking about. Maybe that’swhat pisses me off the most.

And when the guy wraps an entire palm around Sierra’sturned knee and straightens it out, she doesn’tflinch or move from his touch this time.

It’sthen that Idon’tbother continuing to watch.

Istraighten myself out and get the fuck out of there before the last remnants of my pride are squashed like an ant on the pavement.

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