Dirty Steal (Dirty Players #2) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Dirty Players Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
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“You’re right,” I manage. “That is kind of shocking…Or maybe not, truth be told.”

Travis has been…astute, and aware. He encouraged Derek to let me stay with him right away. He knew Derek was the kind of guy who’d open his home to a teammate. Travis knows he too can come over any night and hang with us.

We stop in the living room, a few feet from the door. Derek taps me on the arm. “Want to tell him?” With that, nerves, the edge of his chewed lip. A reminder that the team is his family.

“Miller!” Travis yells again. “Whatever you’re doing, I’ve seen it all before.”

I take one of his hands in mine. This is important. “I’m good to tell him if you are.”

Derek nods, apprehensive, and I have to kiss him, and so I do, a kiss followed by another knock. “He’s my closest friend,” Derek says, semi-apologetically.

“He’s your closest friend,” I say with a smile, “so we should tell him.”

“He’ll be cool with it,” Derek says.

“You remember when you told him how to pronounce my name and he did it, no question?”

Derek nods.

“He looks up to you.”

Derek’s eyebrows rise. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Clubhouse leader and all that.” I give his hand a squeeze. “So we can tell him if you want.”

With that decided, Derek pulls the door open. “Hey,” Derek says. “We want to—”

Travis smirks. “—Tell me what? That you’re boning or whatever?”

Derek lets out a long, slow breath, but he doesn’t drop my hand. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I already knew that,” Travis says, with a satisfied shrug. “Maybe before you did.” He taps a finger against his temple. “Now who’s the clubhouse leader?”

“Definitely not you,” Derek says, laughing.

“Yeah, probably not.” Travis drums a hand against his jeans. “You cooking or what? I’m starving.”

“Sure,” Derek says. “Want to stay for lunch?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he says, then he winks. “But don’t worry. I’ll take off after and you can enjoy being…roomies again.”

I laugh. “We will.”

“We definitely will,” Derek echoes.

And we do for the rest of the off-season. We spent most of it together, here in Seattle, going out to the trendy restaurants in our neighborhood, checking out endless coffee shops, playing golf.

And seeing my family. He comes with me to Houston to meet my parents. He’s the perfect gentleman at dinner, but later, when we’re alone walking through downtown, he confesses he was nervous the whole time.

“I just wanted them to like me,” he says.

I stop on the street, smile, catch his lips in a kiss. “They do. Just like I do,” I say. But that’s not true. “Actually, I love you.”

His gaze turns tender. “I love you too, Adam.”

In February, Arizona is already sweltering as we get ready for the fundraiser together—in our rental for spring training.

The house is a single story with stucco walls and a red tiled roof. It looks just like every other house around it. Except this one has both our signatures on the lease for the next few months.

Derek shoots me a dirty look while I button my shirt, his voice rumbling. “You in a suit…”

“You sure liked it last year,” I say.

“I like it this year too,” he says, then stalks over to me, and plants a possessive kiss to my lips.

I shiver. “Will you do that at the fundraiser too?”

He smiles. “I will.”

“I’m looking forward to that. And to playing craps again. I watched some tutorials. I think I’ve got the hang of it now,” I say as we head to the door, then I stop, something nagging at my memory from the night a year ago. “Hey, why was five your lucky number?”

Derek wiggles a brow. “Oh, that?”

“Yeah, that?” I prod, more curious now. “What was that all about?”

“That was just the number of orgasms I wanted to give you that night.”

I laugh. “Ambitious.”

He squeezes my ass. “Was I, Chason? I’m well past five now.”

Hundreds, I’d say. “Let’s get going then. You can work on another five after the fundraiser,” I say.

Then, Derek hauls me in for a kiss, his lips against mine as we embrace in the promising Arizona sunset.

THE END

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