Dirty Player: A Rough Riders Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

all with the grace of a panther. Amazing, considering his six-four frame. He looked like he’d be large and bulky, awkward, but he was fast. He was powerful.
    With his body guiding me backward onto the dance floor I’d just tried to exit, he was also undeniable.
    Magnetic. 
    Heat swirled between us as I flexed my arm and tried to pull away from him.
    My mind screamed to run.
    My body screamed louder to resist the urge to do so.
    “What are you doing?”
    His sandy blond brows pulled together, sharpening into points. For a moment I thought he couldn’t hear me.
    Then he leaned down, pulling me to him until my hand hit his chest. My fingers curled into his muscled firmness of their own accord.
    “I’m thinking someone like you should have a real man. Not the boys you’ve been hanging with tonight.”
    He’d seen me. He’d been the one watching me. I knew it with the same certainty I knew my panties were becoming wet despite his absurd assumption.
    “You don’t know me. You know nothing about me.”
    “I know what you want.”
    He didn’t know crap. Anything he could say or assume was wrong.
    I should have pushed him away from me. I should have found the way he rolled his hips against mine repulsive.
    Instead, I became malleable to every move he made, my body succumbing to his presence and the static igniting in the breaths of space between us.
    His gaze dropped from my eyes to my breasts, his stare bold and unabashed before he looked back at me. “You want what they all want. The fame, the money, the right to say you’ve sucked our large cocks.”
    Yes. Repulsive. Yet a wave of excitement rolled through my body, heating it at the mere thought of his cock. 
    He continued before I gathered my scattered thoughts. “But what you don’t know is that men new in the league are still boys, easily led by sexy pussy with tits and ass and legs for days, but they don’t know what to do with it once they have it.” He was talking about my brother. And my brother looking at my ass and tits. I didn’t want to throw up like I normally would.
    I was stuck on the fact that he thought I was sexy. How fucked up was I?
    Not fucked up enough, or drunk enough, or dumb enough to not know where this was going. A quick fuck against the wall in the hallway where he’d turn me away from him, lift my skirt and plunge deep inside me, all without having to kiss or touch me.
    I was lonely and still reeling from a failed engagement. I wanted a few hours of oblivion and possibly a one-night stand, but I wasn’t a pushover and I wasn’t an idiot. I deserved more than the sexy look he was giving me offered.
    “Oliver?” I asked, my tone breathless and raw from the dancing and from the way his fingertips were running along my exposed skin. 
    “What, baby?”
    I fought the cringe at the worthless endearment. My fingers slid from his chest to his shoulders and I pulled myself closer.
    Flames shot through me as I brushed against the sizable bulge in his pants. “You don’t know shit. And if you don’t get your hands off me this very fucking second, my brother will kick your ass on and off the field.”
    He dropped his hands like I’d burned him and shot me a quizzical look.
    That furrowed brow was no less sexy.
    I grinned and forced myself to step back. The space was necessary. Without it I might have said fuck my morals and jumped up on him, climbed him like a monkey in a tree and let him give me the ride I knew he’d be so good at.
    “Your brother? Who?” A hand scrubbed down his face.
    I didn’t take the time to explain. A rush of bodies pressed against us, giving me my opening.
    I turned on my heels and trembling legs and got the hell off the floor, back to the VIP area and into the ladies’ restroom without looking back.
    My back hit the wall of the bathroom and my hands went to my face before the door closed behind me. My fingers still shook from adrenaline and lust and desire when I pressed them to my temples.
    I needed to