The Player I Love to Hate (Elite Players #1) 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: 70
Estimated words: 65480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
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I suck in a deep breath and blow it out, frustrated and somewhat upset by our exchange. “You have one chance. That’s it. Continue to act like a jerk and you’ll have to find another place to crash. I don’t even know why either of you would want to stay with me when you can both afford to sleep in a hotel. I’m sure your insurance policy will pay for it.”

He sighs but doesn’t respond, hopefully letting it sink in, though I’m sure he’s too drunk to absorb anything I’m saying.

After a long, awkward pause, Ethan clutches my waist and pulls me to his chest. I attempt to break free from his grasp, but my desire to fight him only causes him to tug harder at my tank. He turns me so that half of my body is on top of his.

“What are you doing, Ethan?”

With my head next to his, our mouths only inches apart, his glassy green eyes meet mine. I wish I could find the courage to pull away from him. He makes me weak. Being this close, I want to kiss Ethan and find some form of comfort in him even if it’s only for one kiss.

Ethan raises his fingers to my cheek and begins to cup my face with his big hand. “You’re beautiful, Mia,” he whispers, his voice low and sensual. “Not kissing you before I left is still one of my biggest regrets. And now… you hate me.”

I don’t respond to his comment because it’s probably for the best.

He props his head on a stack of pillows, his eyes slowly closing. “Stay with me. For the night.”

Ethan moves around to get comfortable, giving me some room. He’s in such good shape. There’s not an ounce of fat on him, making me feel self-conscious in my pajamas. Distracted by his abs, I stop for a second to take in the sight of him. I stare for far too long and have to remind myself not to gape at his pelvic muscle or think about what he must look like naked.

“Ethan, I want to sleep in my bed.” I lift his heavy arm off me.

His eyes shut. A few minutes pass where I listen to him breathe before I give in to him. I can sleep next to Ethan tonight. I won’t fall for him again.

My hatred for Ethan only fuels the sexual tension between us. Will picks up on it, too, most of the time having to get between us. When I visit my brother, Ethan doesn’t usually come with the package. I purposely plan my trips to the luxury apartment they share on the Camden Waterfront around Ethan’s schedule.

My eyelids flutter. The stress of my new living situation, combined with the fact it’s now three o’clock in the morning, coaxes me into a trance. I need sleep. Without overthinking it, I close my eyes and press my palm to Ethan’s chest, cocooning myself in his warmth.

Overcome with exhaustion, I tell myself not to dwell on Ethan and the past. No longer denying the affection I have for Ethan, I fall asleep to the sound of him breathing in my ear, wondering what my brother will think if he finds us together.

When I wake up, I have a weight on my chest that digs into my stomach. One more hour of sleep, I tell myself as I slide my hand up a girl’s thigh, slowly making my way to her big tits. For the second time this week, I’m in bed with a strange girl. Anymore, my life is turning into one big party with hockey in between. The last thing I remember, I was at the bar with Will, pounding a beer with a girl on my lap, and the rest blurs together.

I prop myself up on my right elbow to lean over the woman next to me and slip my hand beneath her shirt. She backs up against my chest, and I move her hair out of her face and off her neck, allowing me access to plant soft kisses on her neck.

My dick hardens as I palm her left breast in my hand and continue to leave a trail of kisses on her skin. She feels amazing, her nipple responsive to my touch.

“Five more minutes, Mom,” she mutters under her breath.

I laugh, but then stop touching her the second I recognize Mia’s voice. I would know that voice anywhere.

Sitting up, just enough to look at her, I open my eyes and sigh. Fuck. If Will sees us together, he’ll kick my ass across the living room. I have too much of a hangover to explain why I accidentally fondled his little sister. Well, there’s nothing little about Mia anymore.

She’s wearing a black tank top without a bra and pink polka dot pajama pants that curve to the contours of her delicious body. It doesn’t occur to me until she stirs in my arms that my hand is still cupping her breast, which isn’t helping my usual morning wood that’s tenting my boxers. Slowly removing my hand from beneath her shirt, I lean against the couch and stare up at the ceiling, blowing out a deep breath.


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