Chapter Ten Ryker
Chapter Ten
Ryker
I didn’t fucking sleep. How could I, when I’ve finally had a taste of the sexiest woman on earth, had her pressed against me, her hot little pussy grinding against my cock, and then I turned her away?
The look on her face was . . . devastation.
“I’m a grade A prick,” I mutter as I set my mug under the coffee maker. I’m not confused. I want her.
Christ, I need her.
And based on how she responded to me last night, she wants me right back, and that is the best fucking feeling in the world.
But Gideon’s right. I should stay away from her. If I ruin our friendship, the three of us will never be the same, and I can’t be responsible for that.
And yet the thought of never touching her again, never tasting that sweet mouth, makes me want to punch holes through the walls.
I hear footsteps behind me, and when I turn, I see Willow shuffling in, her eyes half closed, hair a mess from her pillow, and she’s scratching her head as she yawns widely.
I can’t help but smile. She’s fucking adorable.
But when she sees me, she stops short and scowls.
“I’ll come back later.” She turns to leave, and I panic.
“No! Don’t go.”
She stops walking but doesn’t turn around.
“I’ll make you some coffee, Trouble.”
After a moment, she spins on her heel and pins me in a glare.
“You’re pissing me off, Ryker James.”
To be honest, I’m pissing myself off too.
“You’re sending me so many mixed signals.
One minute, you’re touching me, holding my hand, kissing my forehead.
The next, you go back to being my buddy.
Then, last night, you kiss the hell out of me on that island, make me feel things, and then, you reject me and send me off to bed.
” She lets out a frustrated growl. “And now, you want me here? Why, so you can torture me?”
“I don’t want to torture you.”
“Well, you are.” She crosses her arms over her chest, pushing her tits together and up, and that little tank top does not hide anything. “My eyes are up here, Captain.”
I swallow hard. “Look, I’m sorry that I’m being an asshat, but I do want you. Christ, woman, you make me lose my mind. I didn’t expect to move home and suddenly have these feelings for you.”
“What feelings?” It’s a challenge. She tilts her head to the side with sass and taps her foot, and I want to bend her over, spank her ass, and fuck her hard, just to teach her a lesson.
“I thought my hard cock pushed up against your hot pussy made those feelings pretty obvious last night.”
Her cheeks darken, but she doesn’t look away from me.
Good girl.
“I didn’t say no,” she reminds me.
“Maybe you should have.”
“See? This right here. Mixed messages, and I’m over it, Ry. If you don’t want me, that’s okay, but you don’t get to touch me and confuse me anymore.”
Not touch her? Fuck, I don’t like that.
“Maybe I just need a little time to get my head on straight,” I reply and push my hand through my hair. “I don’t want to fuck this up. I can’t lose you, Wills.”
Her eyes soften just a bit at that. “You haven’t lost me. I’m right here. But you need to figure your shit out and make up your mind, because I don’t enjoy feeling like I’m being played with. I don’t deserve that. You’d punch someone else out for doing that to me.”
“I’d destroy them.” I’d fucking kill them. The thought of anyone else putting their hands on this woman makes me homicidal.
“Then you don’t get to do it either.”
I nod and blow out a breath. “That’s fair. I won’t touch you.”
She looks almost crestfallen at that, and it only makes me feel like an even bigger asshole.
“Fine.”
Well, shit. Now, I want to hug her. This is all fucked up.
“I’ll come back for coffee,” she says and turns to leave.
“Wills?”
She pauses, sighs, and then looks back at me. “Yeah?”
“It’s only because I respect you and care for you, and I need to be careful.”
She swallows hard. “Figure your shit out. Okay?”
I nod, and then she’s gone.
“Fucking hell,” I grumble while staring at my computer. My eyes are killing me. I’ve been stuck at my desk all day, working through my investment portfolio, along with wrapping things up with my agent, who is on my last damn nerve.
He won’t stop trying to push me to sign another contract. We already informed the team of my decision to retire. I’m not backing out on that.
But he’s doing his best to badger me into it. We’ve been emailing back and forth all afternoon, and now my phone is lighting up with his name on it.
“What.”
“You’re being unreasonable,” Andy says. I can hear the edge in his voice.
“No, Andy, you just don’t like being told no.” I dig my fingertips into my forehead. “I’ll be in Seattle next week for the press conference.”
“We’ll be announcing your new contract at that press conference,” he snarls.
“No. We won’t. I’m not signing another contract with Seattle or anyone else. I’m retiring. From everything. I’ll do appearances now and then, but I’m not working for ESPN. I’m not taking on new endorsements. I’m done, Andy.”
“This is bullshit,” he mutters. “After everything I’ve done for you—”
“You can stop right there. I made you a wealthy man, and we both know it. It’s not my problem that you have a gambling addiction and can’t keep a quarter in your pocket.”
“You don’t know—”
“Oh, I know. You’ve made it clear that the money you get from me is the only thing that keeps you afloat, and I’m drying that up on you.
Again, not my problem. I hope you get help for the addiction, but you and I are through.
Even if I chose to stay in the sport—which I’m not—I would seek out a new agent. I’m not your meal ticket, Andy.”
He hangs up on me, and I set the phone down before I throw it against the wall. I’m not excited to go to Seattle next week, but I need to say goodbye to my team, and I need to sell my house.
When I’m finished there, my life will truly be settled here in Montana.
With a sigh, I turn off the computer and stand, roll my neck and stretch my back, and then follow my nose to the kitchen.
“What’s for dinner?” I ask when I see Willow standing by the sink.
Christ, she looks good in this kitchen. Yeah, it may be a little misogynistic, but it’s true.
It’s been a few days since I found her in here, eating ice cream.
I’d been thinking of her, had already taken a shower and fucked my hand with thoughts of her running front and center, and still, I couldn’t shake her.
And then I walked in here, and she was sitting there in practically nothing, like a goddamn wet dream.
And I took it too far. Since the next morning, after our talk, she’s tried to act normal, but there’s an edge to her that’s driving me nuts. Now that I know just how amazing she tastes, how hot she is, I want more of her.
“Meatloaf,” she says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “With potatoes, salad, and corn on the cob.”
“Awesome, thanks for making it.” I want to hug her from behind. Wrap my arms around her and pull her against me, bury my face in her neck, and then fuck her against the countertop.
To ensure I absolutely do not do that, I open the cupboard for the plates to set the table, and Aiden walks into the house through the back door.
“You’re filthy,” Willow says with a laugh. “Go get a quick shower before dinner.”
“I can shower later,” he says, but she’s already shaking her head.
“No. You’re not sitting at the table like that. Go clean off that grime, and then you can eat.”
Aiden rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t sass her further and heads to his bedroom to shower and change. He spends the night out at the bunkhouse with the other hands, but he comes to the house every evening for dinner.
Just like Gid and I did when we were kids.
Willow and I take turns making dinner each night. We’ve settled into a nice routine.
Except I’d like that routine to include me buried inside her at every opportunity.
I’m not confused. I don’t need more time to think about it. Not touching this woman is driving me out of my fucking mind.
“Are you okay?” Willow asks me, and I turn to her with a frown. “You look tense. Honestly, you look kind of pissed off. Who peed in your Cheerios?”
I blow out a breath and set the table. “I am pissed off. Andy’s a dick.”
“I’ve been telling you for years that Andy’s a dick.
You should have shaken him off a decade ago, but you’re too loyal.
” She shakes her head, those blond curls of hers falling over her shoulders.
She’s so fucking beautiful in her black tank top and denim shorts.
Wills has legs for days, and her feet are bare, and all her perfect-as-fuck curves are on display. “Right?”
Christ, what were we talking about?
Right. Andy.
“He’s not taking the retirement well,” I reply and ignore the way she’s bending over to pull the meatloaf out of the oven.
I lied. I’m not ignoring it at all.
I bite my fist and hold my breath. Jesus, her ass should come with a warning label. And the way she’s bent over, those shorts ride up, and I can almost see butt cheek. I could slide my hand up her thigh, and—
“I’m hungry,” Aiden announces as he bounds back into the room, and I have to turn away so I can calm myself the fuck down.
“That was the fastest shower ever,” Willow says, eyeing him.
“I’m hungry,” he repeats, making her laugh. “And your meatloaf is my favorite.”
“Well, it’s ready,” she replies and starts passing bowls to us to set on the table. When we’re all seated, we dig in, heaping food on our plates, and Aiden eats as if he’s never seen food before.
Or as if he’s a fifteen-year-old kid.
“You didn’t come out with us today,” he says as he shoves a heaping forkful of potatoes in his mouth.
“I was in my office all day. I’ll be out with you guys tomorrow.”
He nods and then turns to his aunt. “What kind of book are you working on?”
Her fork stills halfway to her mouth, and she stares at Aiden in surprise. “I’m sorry, are you talking to me?”
Aiden frowns as he puts more food on his plate. “Yeah. Are you still working on the football book?”