Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)(28)
I relax the fingers that I don't remember fisting and move my stare to the second guy at the table—Ernie. He wears confidence nearly as well as I do. Relaxed shoulders, one arm extended, forearm resting on the table so he can show off his expensive watch. The light from the ceiling lamp above the table reflects off of the tiny diamonds embedded around the face of the watch, making each one in what appears to be a thousand, dance around the room. His jaw is covered in a brown scruff—like he hasn’t bothered shaving for a few days—yet the lines of it aren’t hidden in any way. I decide without a sliver of doubt that I don’t like him.
"Excuse me," I mutter, pushing away from the table, ignoring my mom's questions as I follow Sierra. I bump the shoulder of one of the waiters as he rounds the corner and nod apologetically at him before I come to a stop beside the ladies room door. I fight back the need to whip open the door and stomp inside to see her with an ineligible grumble. I’m not her boyfriend. She’s more than capable of dealing with her own shit, I know that.
I’m about to leave in an effort to save my pride when I smell Sierra's perfume. The smell of fresh cut flowers and vanilla brings out my smile. I turn to her when she steps through the door and covers her shock-ridden, parted lips with her hand.
The tight material of her knee-length dress emphasizes every single one of the delicious curves—the ones that I hope are still covered in the bruises the shape of my fingertips—as she leans back on her right foot with a sense of forced confidence. She might think that she's pulling off her little “I’m too confident to be shaken by anything” act that fooled her table, but it won’t work on me. I may not know her all that well yet, but I’ve begun to pay attention to the little mannerisms that she tries to hide.
I find myself speaking before I can stop myself. "I knew it was you who rushed past me out there. I could never forget that ass."
"Braden," she sighs, exasperated. "Why am I not surprised to see you here? Trapping women in public bathrooms seems to be your thing."
"They are when it comes to you.” My mouth curves up.
It's purely coincidence, really. I wouldn't have guessed that I would run into her at my family’s restaurant of all places. Barely anyone I know ever comes here. I like it that way.
"Did you need something? I have to go back out there." Her voice wobbles slightly as she speaks and looks past my shoulder at the table barely visible around the corner. I follow her gaze and bite back my laugh when I see Ernie cough and reach down to the front of his slacks to adjust his dick, palming it slightly. He’s watching the girl beside the blonde suck from a paper straw, clearly hoping she’ll suck something else after dinner.
"I think they're fine without you." I laugh, turning back to her, letting my shoulder brush her neck. I feel her shiver. "Who are those people anyway? Don't tell me you work for a sex ring and that's your pimp. I'm way too broke to start paying you."
I want to knee myself in the balls as soon as I’ve finished speaking. Yeah, that was definitely the wrong thing to say. Her scoff is immediate, cheeks flushing red as she slaps my chest—hard. "Do I look like a prostitute to you, asshole?"
Accepting the invitation to openly check her out, I don't hesitate, slowly moving my eyes up and down her body. She’s tall— taller than most women I go for, but I couldn’t imagine Sierra being any shorter. I like that the top of her head meets my chin when I whisper dirty things in her ear, and that I don’t have to bend down so far to kiss her. Her legs are long, which helps them fit perfectly on my shoulders, her heels able to dig effortlessly into my sides while I’m eating her out. Why the hell would I want to change that?
The more that I look at her, the more I find myself liking what I see. That thought alone is enough to break the intensity of my stare and force me to take a cautious step back, away from her.
Unable to keep my foot out of my mouth, I tell her, "No, you don’t. But you do fuck like one.”
Her eyes flare, steam practically shooting from her ears and I know that I’m about to get my ass handed to me on a silver platter.
"Fuck you, Braden. You're unbelievable." She doesn't spare me a second look before she's attempting to move around me.
Sidestepping, I stretch my arm out in front of her. She stops in her tracks, staring at me with an icy glare. “Get out of my way before I rip your balls off and shove each one down your throat. Don’t think that I won’t leave you here while you choke on them either. I wouldn’t even think twice about it.”
Her threat has the opposite effect of what she was hoping for. I’m hard as a fucking rock, utterly turned on by her aggression. "I’m confused, Sierra. I thought you liked my balls. Especially when they’re hitting your chin while my cock is half-way down your throat.”
She glowers at my arm just long enough for the skin to break out in goosebumps before moving her stare to my face. I find myself locked in the middle of a staring match. But I won’t be the one to back down first. My pride doesn't like the idea of losing when it comes to anything, let alone something so minuscule.
“Half-way down my throat?” she scoffs, never breaking eye contact. “You give yourself way too much credit.”
“There’s the Sierra I met outside Sinners. You’re sexy when you’re pissed.”