Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)
Hannah Cowan
Chapter One
BRADEN
Sharp nails tear their way down my back, ripping through the sensitive skin and drawing blood. The busty blonde beneath me moans in my ear, greedily begging me to pick up the pace. We've been going at this for what feels like hours now. She's come more times than I can count, quite the opposite of myself. This chick's overexaggerated moaning and squawking has halted every single one of my impending orgasms.
"Just like that!"
My growl is loud as I pull out of her in one swift movement and lean back on my legs, dick starting to sag.
"What are you doing?" she whines, lips jutting out in a juicy pout.
"Sorry, Becky. I just remembered that I have to go pick up my grandpa's friend's dog from the vet." My tone is dry and careless. I move off of the silk red sheets left in a disarray on her bed and toss the unused condom into the nearby trash can.
"It's Victoria." Her breathless voice makes me cringe. It’s one of those overly raspy man voices. A total boner killer. I try to block her out and focus on finding my clothes. I can just about plant a thank you kiss on the lamp in the corner of her room when I spot my button-up hanging from it. “And you expect me to believe that you have to pick up this dog in the middle of the night?” She doesn’t spare me an unconvincing frown as she wraps the blanket around her otherwise naked body—a wise decision on her part. It was her hot body that enticed me enough to come here in the first place, and as much fun as it is to stare at her smooth, olive skin, I already have a terrible case of blue balls. The thought makes me reach down and anxiously rub at my limp cock with a deep, aggravated sigh.
"Sorry, what?" I hum and slide my arms through my shirt. My back burns when the material rubs across the new cuts in my skin. At least I know she enjoyed herself.
"What is your deal?" she replies snarkily, snapping me out of my thoughts. I run a hand through my messy hair and pull my phone from the pocket of my jeans. As soon as I switch it on, I'm met with several texts asking about my whereabouts and disappearance.
"You're unbelievable!" she scoffs and shoots a less than terrifying glare my way. She pulls the blanket tighter around her and hurries into the ensuite bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Well, that makes things easier. I pull my keys out of my pocket and the cold metal bites into my palm. The nauseating smell of her fruity perfume wafts throughout the house, making me rush to the front door even faster. I slide my sneakers on and fight back the urge to kick myself in the ass for letting my dick get me in trouble again. I'm out the door and in the driver's seat of my car before my stomach has a chance to start swirling with disappointment.
“If you keep dropping your arms like that, I'll gladly bruise up that pretty face, Clay." Clayton takes a risky swing at my chest and I roll my eyes at his poorly placed move. "C'mon, buddy. You gotta do better than that." I grab and twist his arm behind his back. I turn the six-foot ginger around and shove his face into the boxing bag in front of us. Poor guy didn't stand a chance in hell with that sloppy throw.
"Your mouth twitches before every swing. That needs to stop. Anyone who studies you even in the slightest will know your tells. You’ll never win like that. Ever." I move back a step and lift my arms into position before I nod for him to try again.
His eyes narrow as he bounces on his feet, observing me. Trying to learn my tells. As if I would put them on display for him. Less than a second later, his top lip lifts just the slightest bit, causing mine to lift in a grin. In an instant I’m tucking myself under his right hook and swinging my left arm. I make contact with his abdomen and the air is pushed from his lungs in a raspy wheeze. He clutches his stomach and curls over.
"Fuck you," he coughs while lifting his gaze briefly to me before his eyes slam shut.
"Damn, I guess I should have put my gloves on. My bad." I shrug carelessly.
"Remind me again why I can't have another trainer?" He asks me the question like he doesn’t already know the answer while pushing himself upright again. After a few seconds his grimace slowly evens back out into a scowl.
"Because nobody else wants your whiny ass," I snicker, walking towards my gym bag and pulling out my gloves. The gold stripes wrapping around the slick black material never fail to make my chest swell with pride. I worked day and night to afford these babies, and damn are they ever worth it.
"We both know that you just don't want to get rid of me."
"Yeah." I snort. "That's it." Sliding my hands in my gloves, I clench my fingers and tighten the Velcro strap. Patting both gloves together, I raise my brow and nod for him to try again. The balls of my feet tap against the concrete floor as I bounce while keeping my eyes locked on my best friend. He's finally got his arms in the correct position, at least, but the tension in his shoulders worries me.
"Drop your shoulders!" I bark. "You're going to hurt yourself."
"I'm trying," he snaps but drops his shoulder slightly, most likely to humour me more than anything. Without a second thought I send my fist towards him, but stop mid-throw when he drops his arms just enough to expose his face to me.