Pump Fake (The New York Nighthawks #9) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The New York Nighthawks Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
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When I’d told Prentice I wasn’t interested in a woman, I’d left out my other reason. I’d quickly learned that when you were an NFL player, you attracted all the wrong people. After my last date—I couldn’t even remember when it was—had gone apeshit on me when I wouldn’t sleep with her, admitting in her rage that she had intended to get pregnant so I'd pay her off, I’d sworn off dating.

So it shocked me when a pale hand with delicate fingers and blood-red nails landed on my arm, sending a streak of electricity running over my nerve endings. Rather than shake it off and continue to the other end of the bar, I stopped and glanced down.

“Oh, here he is,” a rich, sexy voice said, but her pitch was a little too high, hinting she was uncomfortable about something. Her incredibly strong grip on my forearm was another giveaway. I was momentarily stunned when an image of that hand wrapped around my cock sprang into my mind, causing my shaft to swell. What the fuck?

“How was your call?” she asked.

I shifted my gaze to the owner of the beautiful hand and voice that would be perfect for a career in phone sex.

The world paused when my eyes landed on the gorgeous woman who’d brought my libido back to life. She was probably half a foot or so shorter than me, with an athletic build that looked hot as fuck in skintight jeans and a snug, long-sleeved T-shirt. She had long black hair that emphasized her porcelain complexion. Thick, sooty eyelashes surrounded her bright-blue eyes, and her rosebud lips were painted the same shade as her nails. Her whole look reminded me of Snow White. I wondered if the color would leave a ring around my cock. The shocking thought brought me out of my stupor, and the world began to spin again.

Her eyes pleaded with me, and I reacted without much thought. “Way too long. Sorry to leave you alone, baby.” Bending down, I captured her lips with mine, groaning at the velvety softness. My hand curled around her waist, and I urged her body closer to mine. She gasped, and I slid my tongue into her mouth, her flavor bursting across my taste buds. My cock was hard as steel and pulsing with the rhythm of my rapid heartbeat.

A throat cleared, bursting the bubble of lust surrounding us, and I raised my head, twisting it to glare at the man standing opposite of my girl.

Whoa there, Summers. My girl?

The thought sent zings of electricity straight to my dick, and I was worried that if it got any harder, I would punch through the zipper on my jeans. Yeah. My girl.

A greasy man glared at me before swinging his leering gaze back to my fairy-tale princess. “We were just getting to know each other.”

“Is this guy bothering you, baby?” I asked, looking down at her.

“Yes,” she murmured. My temper flared, and I took a step toward the asshole, ready to rearrange his face. But she slipped her arm around my waist and squeezed, drawing my attention back to her. “He’s not worth causing a scene.”

I wanted to beat the shit out of him, but her calm response stopped me from earning myself a tongue lashing from the Nighthawks PR rep and coach. We weren’t saints, and they knew we took care of business when necessary. But not in a public place, where anyone could record it on their phones, twisting the story to make me look like the aggressor rather than the hero.

My lips pinched together, and I gave her a stiff nod before turning a venomous scowl on the piece of shit. Keeping my voice low, just loud enough for him to hear me over the crowd, I leaned in and snarled, “Do you know who I am?”

He licked his lips, and his eyes darted around nervously. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’m gonna let you leave with all your teeth tonight but stay the fuck away from my girl. And if I ever see you harassing another woman, you won't just have me to deal with.” I lifted my chin toward the table where several other Nighthawks were gathered. “My teammates will stand in line to kick your ass.”

The guy glanced at the table I’d indicated. Just then, Rhodes caught my eye, and when he clocked my expression, I knew the second he realized what was going on because his brows drew down, and his lips curled into a deep frown. Rhodes could be a scary motherfucker, so when his dark orbs landed on the asshole, the guy shrank into himself and shot me one more angry look before marching past me, muttering, “Good luck fucking the ice-cold pussy of that bitch. Fucking cu—”

“What did you just say?” I seethed, my hand snapping out to close around his neck, making it hard for him to breathe.


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