The Player (Chicago Bratva #8) Read Online Renee Rose

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Chicago Bratva Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
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Maxim glares at me and growls, “Oh no” in a forbidding tone, like I just crashed into his car.

I normally like these two. Sasha is fun and personable, and Maxim is semi-approachable when she's on his arm. Right now, though, he looks like he wants to kick my ass. Story of my life with these guys lately.

“Flynn.” He lifts a stern brow. “I know you're a player.” He points at Nadia. “Do not play with this one.”

“Okay.” Nadia gives a nervous, breathy laugh.

“I mean it.” He trains his finger at me now.

“Maxim,” Sasha protests.

“No, no,” Nadia rushes in. “I asked Flynn to have sex with me.”

Aw, Christ.

“As friends,” she clarifies. “We are friends with benefits.”

“I can't see how they need to know that,” I mutter.

“Okay,” Sasha says, tugging on Maxim's arm as she backs up. “You heard her. It's Nadia’s choice.”

Maxim looks from me to Nadia and back again, still frowning. Apparently, he isn't finished. He pins me with a dangerous look. “You hurt this girl, and I will rip your spine out of your body.”

“Provocative imagery.” I stand, unfolding my long form from the bench, my boner now under control. “Not the first time my life has been threatened when it comes to Nadia.” I meet his gaze without aggression but also without fear.

These guys want to protect Nadia, and I respect that. Something bad has happened to her; that's quite clear. But they have no idea what's going on between the two of us, and it really isn't any of their business. Also, Nadia gets to choose for herself.

“Yeah, every guy in the building will take turns eating your liver with a fork.”

“Too much,” Sasha chides, wrapping her arms around Maxim's waist and trying to pull him back.

“Enough,” Nadia says with authority.

It must be a new tone for her because both Sasha and Maxim snap their gazes to her with surprise.

“No disrespect, but the only person I'm going to listen to about Nadia is Nadia.” I say it firmly with a hint of challenge in my gaze.

I'm not stupid. I know I would lose a fight against this guy, but that doesn't mean I'd go down without swinging.

Maxim contemplates me for a moment. “You do you, Flynn,” he says. “I'm just telling you what the consequences will be if she gets hurt.”

“Noted.”

“Okay, moving on!” Sasha tugs Maxim away, giving Nadia an enthusiastic wave and thumbs up as the two leave.

“I'm sorry,” Nadia moans, turning back to me. A blush covers her peaches and cream complexion.

I shrug. “It's all good.” I'm not going to get my feathers ruffled over people looking out for Nadia. I'm glad she has so many saviors.

Her phone rings, and she startles, like no one ever calls her. I make a mental note to change that. I’m already planning the late night calls from bed. The kind where you tell each other everything–all your deepest thoughts and feelings.

She scrambles to pull it out of her jacket pocket and answer. “Hi, Adrian.”

I can't hear her brother’s exact words, but his tone is loud and tense, like last night, when he couldn't find her outside of Rue's lounge.

“I'm at the lake with Flynn,” she says.

There’s a pause, and then I detect surprise in Adrian's answer. He speaks a little more, and then Nadia says, “okay” and hangs up.

When she looks at me she wears a mischievous smile. “They are leaving the apartment.”

It takes me just a second to catch her implication. She wants to go back there. We can be unsupervised.

I take her hand. “Let's go.”

Nadia walks beside me with a light step, darting glances my way. She’s excited–she wants to have sex. I haven’t had planned sex like this since I was in middle school. Yes, I started young.

I’ve had a lot of sex with a lot of different girls. They aren’t conquests to me. I’m not trying to “hit that” or notch the bedpost. It’s just something that happens naturally. I vibe with someone, I want to share pleasure. I don’t get attached. I’m careful to ensure they don’t, either.

My mom says it’s in my DNA. She and my dad broke up and got back together nine times during our childhood before they finally called it quits for good, and it was always over dad cheating. With him, sex seems more like an addiction. Like he craves or requires the sex to prove something to himself. My gut tells me it’s related to the band. They never made it big, but playing in the Nighthawks did bring him women, so he uses sex to make up for dashed dreams.

That might be why I never try too hard at anything. I sensed my dad’s frustration and wanted no part of it. I play music because I love it, not because I’m trying to get to a destination. The fact that we’ve started gaining popularity since we did the Youtube collab with Skate 32 almost makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want to get used to this success in case it evaporates and leaves me disappointed.


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