The Player I Hate to Love (Elite Players #2) Read Online Jillian Quinn

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Elite Players Series by Jillian Quinn
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Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 202(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
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He hooked his arm around me, his fingers trailing down my stomach. “You sure you don’t want to join me? You look like you could use a good fuck.”

Yes… No.

My body hummed with excitement. The promise of a few orgasms from Will almost tempted me. We were good at fucking, so at least I knew he could do that right. But I just couldn’t…

Don’t go down this road again, Clarke.

I shook him off me. “I’d rather eat glass than shower with you.”

He rolled his shoulders. “Offer still stands.”

Will left the door open as he turned his back to me and raised his shirt over his head. Ripped with muscle, he was a gorgeous specimen I could not take my eyes off. I don’t know why I stood there and watched him undress, but I did. Next he slid his jeans down his long, toned thighs.

He ditched his black boxer briefs, giving me a show meant to entice me. To change my mind. So many times during sex, I dug my fingernails into that sexy backside of his. I screamed his name and begged him for more.

My core ached with desire, desperate for his touch. But I had to stay strong. No good had ever come from sex with Will.

Now naked and standing there in all of his glory, Will turned so I could see his cock that was really fucking hard. He fisted himself, giving his length a few strokes, then winked. My nipples were painfully sore, so damn erect they were poking through my top. I should have walked away. A smart person would have.

Instead, I stood there and watched him stroke his cock. When was the last time I even had sex? Ugh, it was with Will. Most of my sexual encounters over the past three years were with him. We were never technically dating, but we sure as hell had a long history of fucking.

He must have noted the indecision in my eyes and lowered his hand to his side. Will almost looked disappointed that I didn’t jump at the chance to get in bed with him again.

“If you change your mind, I’ll leave the door open.”

“Call your sister when you’re done,” I told him before slamming the door shut.

I pressed my back against the door, my heart pounding in my chest. What is wrong with me?

A moment of weakness almost ruined my resolve. After I moved from New York to Philadelphia, then to Washington, D.C. for work, I tried my best to forget about Will. To put him in my rearview mirror. Maybe Will was right all of those years ago. Maybe fate brought us together.

Dinner with Mia, Will, and his teammates got interesting right before dessert. Of course, Will had to sit next to me. Anything to get under my skin and push me out of my comfort zone.

“Let Elvis marry you,” Will suggested.

Mia’s mouth dropped in horror. “No way, Will. We’re not getting married in some fake chapel by an Elvis impersonator.”

“But he’s The King,” he joked. “How many people can say Elvis married them?”

“A lot,” I chimed. “There are over ten thousand wedding ceremonies in Vegas each month.”

He gave me a curious look.

“What? Surprised I know such an unimportant statistic?”

Will shrugged. “Help me out, Clarke. Don’t you think my sister and Ethan should get married by Elvis?”

“No, you’re drunk and an idiot.”

“Why don’t you let Elvis marry you?” Ethan suggested.

Will tipped back his head and laughed. “I’m never getting married.”

“You will,” Mia said as her eyes flicked between her brother and me. “When you’re done being Romeo.”

Mia confused our mutual hatred for one another as a connection. There was nothing between us. Not a single thing to keep us together.

“He’ll never stop being a player,” I interjected.

He slid his hand to my thigh and tapped his fingers as our eyes met. “I would if the right woman came along.”

“Good luck finding her.”

Will muttered about already finding her. Ha! He could not have been talking about me. Even when we were together, he never took me out on a date. He never apologized for fucking me over when I lived in New York.

Our server appeared a minute later, ending the staring contest between Will and me. Shivers crept up my arms as I thought about his words.

I never wanted to like him.

I never meant to fall for him.

But that night spanned years, from city to city, and eventually ended in heartbreak. Because Will was never mine to keep. We were both focused on our careers, intent on living our best lives separately. And he only cared about hockey and sex. Women were just accessories to a player like Will—Romeo, as the media and his teammates liked to call him.

Will slid his arm behind my back, pulling me closer to him. His lips brushed my earlobe, sending a chill down my spine. It looked harmless to everyone at the table, a subtle gesture. I downed the rest of my drink and ordered another. I was still a little buzzed from earlier and needed to get as drunk as possible to handle Will touching me like this.


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