Page 20 of Craving the Player

Chapter Nine

Braden

I'mpleasantly surprised when Iwake up to hot breath fanning across my chest.

An explosive tingling sensation shoots up my right arm when Iattempt to pull the numb limb from under Sierra'sbody before giving up with aquiet groan. For such asmall person, she creates way too much damn heat. As if she heard the silent insult, Sierra mumbles incoherent words in her sleep, her voice light and delicate. The opposite of the brash one that I’ve become so accustomed to. She nuzzles her face into my neck and Ifeel my chest vibrating from alaugh that Ifight to keep inside.

Ilet myself relax again and soak up the sight of the miraculously carved, naked body curled into my side. Circular bruises peek out from under her messy hair, decorating the pale, smooth skin of her neck with hues of purple. The possessive marks bring the memories of last night back full throttle, my cock hardening.

From hailing another cab—no emotionally scarred drivers this time—to stumbling in the front door and taking her against the back of the couch, the fridge and kitchen table, to having her lower herself on me the minute we made it to the bed, riding me until her strength gave out. Each memory builds my heavy need to be inside of Sierra again, waking her up with amorning fuck, regardless of the ache in my muscles and her ridiculous rule. No morning sex. Ihave no idea how, or why Iagreed to such astupid rule, but now that Ithink about it, it was definitely the booze. It'salways the fucking booze.

Ilook up at the ceiling and use my free hand to push my shaggy hair out of my eyes, the strands damp with sweat. Dropping my eyes, Iwatch Sierra'sdainty hand stretch across my abdomen, manicured nails scratching at the toned muscles. It feels good, relaxing even. She pulls herself closer to me with asigh.

The movement causes the thin black sheet to move down her torso, exposing her bare chest and hardening nipples. The smooth skin taunts me, silently beckoning me forward. Iswallow the growing lump in my throat with afirm shake of my head.

I’ve never been abig fan of waking up beside someone, especially not somebody that only my penis is overly acquainted with, but if waking up to abody as gorgeous as this one is what I’ve been missing out on, then fuck have Ibeen an idiot. Sure, there’ssome women who seem to get the wrong impression after coming home with me, waking up tucked into my side, freshly fucked and hungry. They assume that maybe I’ll wake up and realize they’re my soulmate, my person, asClay would call it. But the mirage usually fades quickly. It’sahit to the pride being told that he’sjust not that into you.

"You're the worst pillow ever. You fidget too much." Sierra pushes herself off of me before letting her head fall onto her unused pillow with an exaggerated huff. Tangled but glossy caramel brown hair spreads out around her, smelly strongly of mangos and abit of her floral perfume.

"Maybe that'sbecause I'mnot apillow,” Ireply with agrin, my voice raspy and rough.

She grabs ahandful of the blanket and tucks it under her chin, covering her bare chest. "Whatever."

"Someone'sagrouch in the morning." Iforce myself out of bed and stretch my arms above my head, knowing damn well my dick is rock hard, nearly pulsing with how worked up I’ve found myself this morning. Sierra attempts to keep her eyes to herself but fails miserably. Her gaze is narrowed, eyes glazed over with want as she trails them down the tight ridges of my stomach before focusing on the hard, thick length right in front of her. Iwatch her lips part, still swollen from last night, and crave the feel of them around me. Iwant my hands in her hair as Ifuck her mouth until she gags, forcing her to take as much of me in her mouth as she can, spit dribbling from the corners of her mouth. My palm twitches, desperate to wrap around my shaft and give it apump or two, suddenly claimed by the thought of her.

“Are you going to move or stand there all day?” she asks smugly, her legs now crossed in front of her.

Iblink twice and realize that I’ve been staring at her mouth for acreepy amount of time. “It’stoo early for your snark, Sierra.” Iclear my throat and pull on apair of boxers. “There should be something for you to wear in the bin by the bed unless you want to put your dress back on.”

Without giving her asecond look, Ileave her to get dressed. When Iget to the living room, Ispot two sock-covered feet dangling from the couch and grin, feeling my blood cool to anormal temperature. Imove quietly around the sofa and give them ahard yank. Iburst into afit of laughter when Clayton jumps into the air, terrified and about two second away from snapping.

Hating jump-scares: another one of Clayton’smany quirks.

"Morning," Isnicker, falling back in afluffy maroon armchair across from him. Throwing amenacing glare in my direction, Clay crosses his arms and turns the volume up on the TV. He tries to tune me out but Ionly speak louder. "Sleep well last night?"

"You're aprick," he replies with adeeply-etched scowl.

"Oh, I'msorry. Did we keep you up or something?" My fake ignorance only pisses him off more as he stands up from the couch and grabs his empty coffee cup from the coffee table. He stomps off to the kitchen before disposing of it in the sink.

Sierra comes walking out of my bedroom afew seconds later, capturing my attention with an uncomfortable cough. Her eyes have ahint of suspicion and curiosity to them as they flick between Clay and I.

Inotice Clayton’sjaw slacken when he groans, eyes feasting on the image of her. She’sdecided on wearing one of my old hockey shirts and apair of rolled up sweatpants. The white shirt is ripped and stained from years of wear and tear. It swallows her whole. It’sdefinitely not what Iwould have expected her to grab, but Iwon’tcomplain. She looks fucking hot in it.

"It should be asin to look that good in the morning," Clay says in approval, taking the words right from my mouth. Tell me about it, buddy. You have no clue.

She swallows nervously and drops her eyes to the floor, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden attention from the both of us. Something hot and stiff flicks my spine when she starts biting her thumb nail, an anxious habit that I’ve noticed Lana doing afew times when we first met.

Ipin Clayton with asharp look, regardless of the fact that he isn’tnor doesn’twant to pay me any attention.

"Uh, thanks." Her cheeks are flushed and she stares at her toes. I’mnot sure if she’soffended by his comment or just not used to receiving them. Either way, I’mimmediately not afan of the way she shut down, her insides nearly completely bare and in clear view. The confidence and sass that I’ve become to associate with this woman is gone, leaving only anervous girl behind. Ifeel my eyebrows bunch together.

I’mabout to walk towards her when her walls come back up. With afake smile and aroll of her eyes she says, “Iforgot my phone in your room.” Before Ihave achance to tell her to drop the act, she’sinside my bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her.

Turning to Clay, Iscoff, "Way to go, asshole."

"Me?" he reels back. "Iwas just being honest. You're the one who left anaked model in your bed alone. You were probably the one that offended her. At this rate, it won'tbe long before she comes crawling to me looking for areal man."

"Trust me. You couldn'thandle awoman like Sierra." My smirk is immediate as Isink into the armchair. The last time Clay tried to score with agirl at Sierra'slevel was about two years ago, and he was beaten to apulp by said girl'sboyfriend not even twenty minutes afterwards. He claims that the blowjob he got in the bathroom was worth it though, regardless of the fact it was the beginning of aserious life change. He hasn’tpined over anyone since then. Iassume that he’sjust not interested in fighting over anyone anymore. It would be ridiculous of me to bug him for that. It’snot only guys that like to play games. We just get the brunt of the blame for it.

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