Drake (Pittsburgh Titans #5) Read Online Sawyer Bennett

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Pittsburgh Titans Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
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As Clay reveals his name, I swear I see flames in Drake’s eyes. His jaw locks and Clay lets out a bit of a yelp as he pulls free from Drake’s grip.

Laughing nervously, Clay rubs his hand. “Hey, hey… you got a strong shake there, buddy, but these are surgeon’s hands and can’t be damaged.”

Offering a tight smile of apology, Drake inclines his head. “Sorry… didn’t realize they were that delicate.”

I look at Drake in horror because that was a blatant insult to Clay’s masculinity, but it seems to go right over his head. Clay laughs and wiggles his fingers. “They perform delicate procedures. I operate on brains and spinal cords.”

I have to suppress my grimace because that just comes off as immature and pompous and I’m afraid Drake will hurl another backhanded insult.

Instead, he gives Clay a genuine smile. “Listen… do you mind if I borrow Ms. Norcross? I need to discuss something urgent with her.”

My eyes bug out in shock. I don’t want to be alone with Drake when I can sense dark vibes coming off him, and I’m pretty sure my panties are wet just from that inappropriate but hot jealous caveman display. “Surely it can wait for office hours,” I say with a sweet smile.

“Actually,” he says, eyes coming to mine, “it’s a news-related item, and I know you wouldn’t want to wait to hear about it.”

News-related item? About the drama with his wife from last year?

“No problem,” Clay says, clapping Drake on the shoulder. “I’m going to get another drink. Brienne, do you want one?”

I shake my head. “I’m good.”

Clay’s eyes darken with intent. “We’ll finish our talk later.”

My smile weakens and I can barely hold it in place as Clay turns and walks away.

Drake snags a passing waiter, pulling a glass of champagne from the guy’s tray, and hands it to me. We move over to let other people by us on the wide landing. He stands casually to my side so we’re almost shoulder to shoulder in dual postures of casual, light conversation.

“You said there was a news item?” I ask, glancing out at the crowd and not daring to look at Drake.

“Yeah.” His tone tight and slightly brittle. “A big news item.”

I turn to look at him with dread, and his eyes meet mine, hard and unyielding. “It’s actually more of a news flash. If Dr. Bessel puts his hand on you again, I’ll break his delicate little surgeon’s fingers.”

God, that’s so hot I might just go up in flames right now, but I push those feelings aside. “You have no say over who touches me. We agreed no strings.”

“I’m adding strings,” he growls, dipping his head toward me, and if anyone’s watching, they know this conversation just turned serious. “While we’re fucking, you don’t fuck anyone else.”

This is a different attitude, but I go with it. Drake has the distinct talent of always making me feel impetuous.

“And the same goes for you?”

His expression tells me he thinks that’s a stupid question. “Of course it does.”

Okay… this is actually a serious conversation but not the place for it. I step back, draw in a breath, and contemplate.

I take a delicate sip of my champagne. What he’s suggesting is changing all the boundaries we’d agreed to.

Hell, it’s fundamentally changing who I am, because while I had a casual relationship with Clay, he never would’ve gotten jealous over another man. He most certainly would never threaten to hurt someone who got in his way.

For the first time in my life, I feel not just wanted but… revered. No man has ever made me feel that way.

“Okay, then… we have an understanding.” I don’t dare look at him, but instead let my attention roam over the crowd.

“Want to kiss on it?” he asks, and gone is the tightness in his voice.

I risk it, twisting my neck to look up at him. “No, I don’t want to kiss on it. Not here, anyway.”

Drake grins at me. “Fair enough.” He starts to walk away, then stops. Leaning back, he murmurs, “What time do you want me at your house tonight?”

“Who says I’m inviting you?” I ask coolly, because while we might be agreeing to monogamy, it’s still casual.

“I did,” he growls. “What time?”

I blink at him. “I thought you had some last-minute stuff to do to get ready for the boys.”

“It’s mostly done. I can finish in the morning. What time?” he repeats.

I offer a dramatic sigh, but secretly I’m pleased. “I’ll be home by ten.”

“I’ll be there,” he says and once again turns to descend the steps, only to come to another halt. “One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Since the boys are coming, I won’t be able to see you until Tuesday’s away game. Are you going?”

“Yes,” I reply, although I hadn’t committed until just now.

“Perfect.” His smile is licentious, and it makes my belly flip. I sip my champagne, hoping the bubbles will distract me. “Gives us both plenty of time to get tested and have results before then. I’m fucking you bare in Boston.”


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