The Right Player Read Online Kandi Steiner

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 85223 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

The Right Player

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Kandi Steiner

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B086256Z69
Book Information:

I have a three date rule — but it’s not what you think.
See, I’ve been told I’m the “good time girl,” not the one you take home to Mom. And while that label stung at first, I’ve since embraced it — living the wild and free life and sticking to a three date max. That’s just enough time to have some fun and snuff out the possibility of catching feelings. And it’s been working for me for years…
Until Makoa Kumaka. Sadly, he also has a three date rule — and it’s the exact opposite of mine. From the second I meet him, all I can think about is stripping down that six-foot-five Herculean hunk of a man. But like the gentleman I wish he wasn’t, he’s making me wait.
The more time we spend together, the more I feel those pesky emotions creeping in. I’m even tempted to trust him, but blame it on my past or my instincts, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s hiding something…
I’ve been playing the game forever, and no man has ever won my heart — which meant they never had the power to break it. But maybe I just hadn’t met the right player.
Maybe I’ll wish I never did.
Books by Author:

Kandi Steiner



Belle

His face looked like a potato.

I never noticed before. Maybe it was because I wasn’t used to seeing him in the morning light. Maybe it was because, under normal circumstances, he would pat my ass and kiss my cheek on his way out the door, and I’d roll over in bed and sleep for another thirty minutes before dragging myself out of the sheets that smelled like him. Maybe it was because normally when I kissed that dumb potato face, I was so distracted by his lips that I didn’t care.

Maybe it was because for the last year and a half, Doctor Jordan and I had an understanding, and that was all that mattered.

He had a busy schedule as a pediatrician and wasn’t looking for anything serious. I had sworn off anything resembling a relationship long, long ago. What we both did want was steady, reliable, mind-blowing sex.

And for those reasons, we were a match made in heaven.

I had a firm three-date rule — meaning, no guy made it past three dates with me. That was just enough time to have some fun without catching any serious feelings. But with Jordan, we’d had an understanding. We didn’t date. We didn’t have deep, long conversations. What we had was casual sex without anything more demanded of us.

Jordan was tall and lean, athletic, built like a golf pro. He always dressed like a doctor. You know what I mean — khakis, polos, long sleeves under a sweater vest, his golden hair always gelled and swooped to one side. He had what I liked to refer to as a news broadcaster smile, wide and bright with too many teeth, but I much preferred what that mouth did under my sheets. And he even wore these wire-framed glasses from time to time, mostly when he was reading something, that just topped off the whole look.

When it came to me and Jordan, I didn’t need much.

I didn’t need flowers. I didn’t need Valentine’s dinner dates. I didn’t need to meet his family. I didn’t need his time, or attention, or anything other than a great lay on a consistent basis.

And he never asked anything of me, either.

When we were together, we talked briefly, maybe ate a late-night dinner or had a bottle of wine while we joked around, ended our short time together with a romp in the sack, and then we went about our day to day without having to answer to anyone else.

It was perfect.

And now, the potato-headed motherfucker had a girlfriend.

He was ruining everything.

“I really am sorry,” he said for the fortieth time that morning. It wasn’t even seven yet and the jerk was dressed and ready for work, teeth brushed and breath minty-fresh, his white coat laying over the arm of my sofa and waiting to transform him from average good-looking guy to smokin’ hot doctor.

I, on the other hand, still hadn’t cleared the sleep from my eyes.

Jordan folded his hands between his knees, leaning closer to where I sat across from him. “I didn’t expect it to get serious with Ella. I mean, neither of us did. We met at the conference, and we both thought it would just be a little fun, but… I like her, Belle,” he said, looking at me like the dog he was about to kick out of the house. “I really do. And she wants to take it to the next level.”

“The next level,” I deadpanned. “Meaning, the level where I get booted.”

He grimaced. “Don’t think of it like that.”

“How else am I supposed to think?” I huffed, tossing my hands up in the air.

“I don’t even know why you’re upset,” he said. “We’ve never been exclusive. We’ve never even gone on a proper date. Surely, you didn’t think this would last forever.”

I ground my teeth, but to his credit, he didn’t say it with even a slight hint of annoyance or pity or arrogance. It was a genuine, accurate statement, as if he was reminding me that the shirt I was wearing was blue.

The fact of the matter was that had this been the version of me that existed even a few months ago, I wouldn’t have batted an eye at him calling off our little arrangement. If anything, I’d known it was coming — eventually. He told me about Ella when he met her, and they’d been hanging out just as consistently as we had. It didn’t bother me, and again, had this been a few months ago, I would have wished him luck with his new girlfriend, biting my tongue against telling him that he was likely going to end up with his heart broken, and then I would have saluted him on the way out the door and made a silent bet with myself as to when he’d walk back through it after he and his precious Ella broke up.

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