Ryker (The Powers That Be Book 4) (8 page)

But as I tried getting away, he stepped right in my path blocking me, his eyes sparking with anger. “I told you to stop.”

What the hell was he mad about? He was the asshole who basically told Cole I’d slept with him. I was the one who should be mad.

“I don’t give a fuck what you told me,” I spit out.

We were at the side of the frat house now and if I wasn’t as angry as I was, I’d have found his appearance a little daunting, the shadows of the trees on his face giving him a sinister air. But I was fuming and didn’t really give a rip at the moment.

“Watch that dirty mouth of yours, Francesca,” he warned taking a few steps forward, backing me against the house, his eyes practically glowing.

Oh,
I
was the one with the dirty mouth now. I huffed out a pissed off laugh. “Or what? You’re gonna fucking spank me again?”

His hand slid up over the scarf to grip me around the throat, not threateningly but firmly, then he leaned in and growled in my ear, “Or I’ll put something in it to shut you up.”

9—Exposure

For the second time tonight I found myself shoving my hands against rock-hard pecs. Jeez.

“Get away from me!” I bit out.

Ryker dropped his hand from my neck and stepped back a little, his eyes still intense on mine.

“Who do you think you are, huh?” I snapped. “Are you trying to make me look like a tramp? Because, let me tell you, I’m doing a fine job of it on my own and I
don’t need your help
!” I emphasized the last part because it was the damned truth. I stood there breathing hard as I glared up at him, the breath emanating from my mouth in white puffs with each exhalation. I’d forgotten to grab my coat and now ran my hands up and down my arms for warmth while stating, “You tell me you only want a ‘hookup’ but when you see me talking to someone else you screw any chance of my getting with him by telling him we’ve slept together? What
is
that?”

As I was speaking, I watched him unzipping his hoodie and taking it off. When his arms went around me I flinched thinking he was going to “trap” me again until I realized he’d draped his jacket over my shoulders to keep me warm. Ugh. Now I couldn’t even be as mad at him as I wanted to be.

I crossed my arms and gripped the sides of the hoodie and unable to help myself tilted my head down to my right shoulder and closing my eyes took a surreptitious whiff finding that it smelled just like him, all clean with a hint of a warm spice. Ugh.

Drive that knife in deeper, Frankie. Smash those last pieces of your heart into dust.

“What do you want from me?” I whispered looking up at him.

He shook his head before muttering, “I don’t know.”

Well, at least he was being up front about it. Even though I’d have loved for him to tell me that what he wanted from me was
me
, he couldn’t live without me and he wanted to be with me forever, I knew that was just the dreamer talking. Man, this dreamer persona seriously needed to take a freaking hike.

I stared at him for several seconds before eventually speaking. “Thank you for being honest.” I saw his mouth curl up at the sides probably at my sudden mood change. “I get it now,” I shared as I nodded. “But since we’re not gonna be together, you really can’t be doing things like you did earlier. I mean, what if I’d wanted to go out with Cole?”

His eyes flared (what was that about?) then he decreed, “He’s not someone you should go out with.”

I rolled my eyes at his big brother demeanor. “And why’s that? From what I saw, he’s a nice guy.”

“Not so sure the mother of his son would agree.”

My brow came down. “What?”

“He’s got a kid. Born right before season started. Cole tells us all he’s gonna marry this chick then he goes and fucks everything in sight.”

“Oh.” Crap.

Ryker kept his eyes on mine before they moved down to my lips for a moment before he gave what I thought was a frustrated sigh. He next rubbed his hands over his face and asked, “You need a ride?”

“I was gonna get a cab.”

“Come on.” He grabbed my hand and started walking up the street pulling me along with him. When we got to an orange sixty-something Mustang, he said, “Here,” and taking the hoodie from my shoulders helped me put my arms into it and zipped me up, the whole time looking like he wanted to say something but keeping quiet. After opening the passenger door he put his hand at the small of my back and guided me inside and after he closed me door, I watched him walk distractedly to the driver’s side, running his hand through his hair as he did. When he got in, he started the car and asked, “Where to?”

I told him my address and we took off, neither of us saying a word the whole way. I was too busy thinking how things were really
really
over between us to say anything and I knew he had to be tired from his tournament. When he pulled into a parking space at the apartment complex I started to take off his hoodie.

“Keep it,” he muttered.

No way could I keep it. All it’d do was remind me he’d never be mine. “I can’t.”

I felt his intense gaze on me. “You can.”

I sighed and sat back in my seat and turned my head so I could look at him. “You confuse the hell out of me, Ryker.”

One side of his delectable mouth twitched. “Why?”

I turned away and looked down at my hands that were messing with the zipper on the hoodie as I talked. “All I’ve been for you is a hookup,” I glanced at him then looked back at my lap. “But I feel like you’re saying one thing and your actions are saying something else.”

He ran his hands over his face again with a sigh then put a hand on the back of my seat as he turned toward me. “Would it help if I told you that you confuse the ever-loving fuck out of me too?”

I jerked my head back with a frown as I looked at him. “I do?” I mean, I thought I’d made it perfectly clear what I wanted, having jumped into bed with him twice already.

He bit his lip as he nodded slowly. Next, he reached out with the hand on my seat and grabbed a lock of my hair between his fingers and tugged. “You’re a huge distraction.”

“I am?” This was definitely shocking news.

His eyes moved to the tress he was twisting in his fingers and he snorted. “Oh, yeah.”

Okay. Time to end this. We were never going to be together and I needed to move on before he hurt me even worse.

Before I could open my door, he suddenly dug his entire hand into the hair at the back of my head clenching his fingers tightly into it which didn’t hurt as much as it startled me, making me cry out. Jerking me toward him roughly, his eyes looked angry. My hands flew out seeking to balance myself before they landed on his muscular thigh, the denim of his jeans now like a second skin on the hard contours of his bent leg and then his face was in mine, his other hand coming up to hold my chin with fingers that gripped firmly as he growled irritably, “Huge fuckin’ distraction.”

Um. Okay.

“You’re confusing me again,” I whispered.

His eyes burned hotly into mine at that but I wasn’t scared. Matter of fact, I was so turned on I was panting waiting to see what he’d do next.

“In my head all fuckin’ day and night, totally fuckin’ shit up,” he mumbled.

Well, that didn’t sound good.

I tried pulling back but he kept me where I was, his fingers digging into my hair and chin a little harder. As he stared me down, I saw him shake his head as if in defeat before smashing his lips against mine in a bruising kiss, his tongue plundering my mouth, finding mine to tangle with it.

Good lord, the man could kiss. I felt a huge dip in my womb at the hunger he displayed as if he couldn’t get enough of me. But I was the same (damn it), moving a hand up to lock in his hair, my other behind his neck holding him tightly to me needing more. Always needing more.

We made out for a long time before he ended it (damn it again) with several soft, sweet kisses on my lips, my jaw, my forehead, the tip of my nose.

I was
this
close to asking him in when he spoke up.

“I need your number.” He moved his hand from my chin slowly down over my throat, and even more slowly down between my breasts on to my waist and around to my back where he found my pocket and pulled my phone out. He brushed his lips over mine as he handed it to me before sitting back. “Dial,” he ordered and gave me a number.

I frowned at his bossiness but dialed the number and upon hearing his phone ring, I hung up.

“Call me anytime you need me,” he announced which I thought was really nice. Until he added, “You get starved for my cock, hit me up, babe.”

Wow.

Wow.

And here I thought we’d made some leeway but apparently not. I was back to my original play of getting out of his car which I did quickly, but not before turning and telling him to go fuck himself then slamming the car door and stomping to my apartment. Right before I got the key in my door, I heard him chuckle as he said out of his window, “Won’t be fuckin’ myself, but I will be fuckin’ you soon, darlin’.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” I mumbled turning the key in my door. I slammed it shut then holding both hands up, fists clenched, I let out a pissed off shriek as I heard him drive off. “Why am I so stupid?” I yelled to no one before stomping to my room and throwing myself on my bed.

My phone chimed that I had a text and I remembered that I needed to text Sharee and Gladys. I was on my stomach, so lifting my head, I swiped my phone unlocked and read what’d been sent.

Text Message—Sun, Jan 18, 12:24 a.m.

Unknown: Don’t forget to put my name in your phone, Francesca

Ha. Fat chance of that ever happening. I deleted the text and the number, texted Sharee to let her know I was home then got my pjs and went to take a shower. Back in my room, I heard my phone chime again and picking it up saw I had messages.

Text Message—Sun, Jan 18, 12:57 a.m.

Ree: K! Glad & I are having fun… don’t wait up

At least someone was having fun at the party. I looked at the next text.

Text Message—Sun, Jan 18, 12:32 a.m.

Unknown: Goodnight, beautiful

             
Deleted.

I got in bed and turned out the light only to toss and turn for a while. As I thought about everything, I figured it was good that Ryker pissed me off so much which took the focus off my broken heart.

Huh. Would you look at me being all optimistic and shit.

~*~*~*~

I drove Gladys to the airport Sunday morning. She and Sharee had barely gotten up before we had to leave, both of them having hangovers from hell.

“I told you not to let me drink more wine,” Gladys whined at Sharee who was practically passed out in the backseat.

Sharee moaned, “As if I could’ve stopped you,” but it came out garbled.

I picked up coffees at Starbucks on the way trying to sober up their drunk asses and by the time we reached the airport, what do you know? They were at least able to walk without zigzagging too much.

“Let me know when the next big party is,” Gladys said, hugging both Sharee and me. When she pulled back, she gave me serious eyes. “And I’m sorry I was such a pain in the ass about guys. You’re doing just fine, Frankie.”

Ugh. If she only knew. But it was still nice to hear she was dropping my love life as her focus for now.

“Yeah,” Sharee added. “Sorry, Frank.”

“Can I get my phone out and record both of you saying this?” I asked with a grin.

“Hell no,” Gladys said with a snicker. “I’m still drunk. I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying.”

Sharee nodded in agreement and I shook my head at both of them.

“’Kay! I’m outta here! You guys be good!” Gladys announced giving us both a hasty hug before going through security. She turned and gave us one last wave and then she was gone.

“Makes me sad when she’s gone,” Sharee declared as we turned to leave.

“Yeah,” I concurred. “I miss her.”

Back at the apartment, Sharee went back to bed while I did laundry and prepared for the coming week. I had minimal lesson plans to write up for PE and only needed to wash jeans to wear, so I was finished in no time. I checked the grocery list on the fridge and decided to do some shopping. Knowing Mrs. Bertolini probably needed a few things, I climbed the stairs to her apartment and knocked on the door.

“Hello, Francesca!” she exclaimed when she opened her door. “Come on in!”

I loved Mrs. B’s apartment. It always had a faint smell of Chanel No° 5 with a hint of bread baking, her artwork displayed on every wall and sculptures in every corner. I’d spent an entire afternoon and into the evening with her a couple years ago learning about each piece she’d done and it’d been fascinating. She’d sold a lot of them, having posted them on a website that her daughter, who lived in San Francisco, had set up for her. It was amazing to know that each piece sold anywhere from one-hundred dollars well into the thousands. Mrs. B had tried giving me a painting before I left the day she’d told me about her work, but I’d refused telling her I hoped to have enough money to buy one some day soon.

“Hi, Mrs. Bertolini. I’m going to the grocery store and wanted to know if you needed anything?”

“I do! But come in and have a cup of tea with me first.”

Sharee and I tried visiting with her at least once a week since she lived alone, but she was so busy with the senior center and managing her website that she was in no way lonely. Usually, we were the ones who sought her out if we were bored or craving company.

“What’re you hooked on this week?” I asked with a smile since she was always changing her flavors.

“An apple cinnamon herbal that’s to die for!”

“Sounds great! I’ll get it started.” I’d been by so often that I knew where she kept everything. I mean, it wasn’t hard since the teakettle was always on the stovetop, but I knew the tea was in the cabinet at the top and to the left of the oven and the cups and spoons were on the right.

As I filled the kettle with water she jumped right in. “So who was that young man you were kissing last night?” I turned to her, mouth dropped wide open. “It’s not polite to let your mouth hang open, dear.” She winked and gave a little chuckle.