Wild Card: A College Sports Romance (Rake Forge University Series Book 1)

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Wild Card: A College Sports Romance (Rake Forge University Series Book 1) Page 24

by Ashley Munoz


  Decker merely shook his head back and forth slowly, but I didn’t miss how he shuffled closer.

  “I need you…”

  “Don’t.” I moved away from him, toward the door, shaking my head. “You say you care, but it was only because Elias started talking to me in the first place that you decided to stop going after Taylor.” It was a buried truth that I had to pull out and examine, like a sliver that kept burrowing deeper and deeper. He’d completely ignored me, ghosted me, and while I may have hoped it wasn’t about Elias, after everything…I knew now.

  “You can’t honestly think that,” he muttered into the slice of space between us.

  I broke free of him, was nearly to the door with my hand on the latch when I felt a jolt in my back. A strong arm was a band of steel around my waist, pulling me flush with a heaving chest. Decker’s lips were warm, skimming the sensitive part of my ear, right next to my tattoo.

  “You still don’t understand all the rules.”

  My heart paced violently in my chest. I hated that I still wanted him, hated that I had ever since that first night. He had the moon in his chest, and my heart was the tide. We were connected and tied together while existing apart from one another. I felt panic flare as I realized it would always be like this. I’d always respond to him…need him.

  “Which rules?” I breathed heavily, keeping my eyes lowered to the carpet.

  With his left arm around me and his hand splayed against my stomach, he used his right hand to brush the hair away from my neck. He drew me impossibly closer until I could feel every hard line of his body pressed into mine, and…I bit my lip to hold in my groan when I felt his erection digging into my ass.

  Decker didn’t answer; instead he skimmed the length of my neck with his nose, inhaling. Suddenly his hands were gripping either side of my hips, roughly holding me against him. My chest rose and fell in desperate bursts while his seemed perfectly steady behind me. I wanted to ask again, demand he answer, but I also wanted to know what he’d do next.

  Fevered fingers drew the material of my dress up from my thighs, and I felt him barely ghost over my entrance. I tossed my head into his shoulder as he bunched the material at my waist, leaving me bare save for my lacy thong. I gasped at how quickly his fingers dug into the fabric along my hips, stretching it, and with one hard tug, they ripped.

  “Hey!”

  Decker spun me and slammed my back against the door. His eyes were still so wild, but there was something else there too, something unhinged…desperate.

  “There are rules to the game, rules to what it is we’re doing. There are rules to all of this, and you don’t get to just walk away from me and decide you aren’t going to play anymore.”

  His fingers came up to grip my jaw, and he angrily pressed his lips against mine in a punishing kiss. I loved the rawness to it. The anger, the rage. I bit down on his lip while he licked inside my mouth like he knew exactly how he’d taste me if he were to go to his knees before me. Once he released me, his lips stayed close to mine, his hands sliding down my hips and along my entrance. Within seconds he was already working me while his mouth devoured mine. I felt like I was shattering from the inside out from the burn of his kiss, the seal of his mouth on mine, the way his tongue delved in, begging me for things I didn’t fully understand…the way his fingers were buried inside me, owning me and demanding I come apart at only their bidding.

  He leaned back scarcely an inch then roughly pulled the top of my dress down, exposing my bare breasts. His eyes devoured me as passionately as his fingers did when they were inside me.

  The moon silently tugged the tide, my chest reacting to the thudding inside his.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck while he hoisted me, my back digging into the door, his hand cupping my ass while I rocked against him. I yanked at his tie, ripping buttons and shoving his shirt off while he sucked and kissed along my jaw. His slacks…I needed his slacks gone next.

  “Do you want me to fuck you against this door, Mallory?” He breathed the words into my ear, dipping down to capture my nipple in his mouth.

  I made a sound of agreement, a hum, or something close to it. Words were a foreign idea at this point. My fingers tugged on the thin belt holding his slacks up, then I was careful with the sewn button of his pants, peeling the buttery material down until I could see the tip of his cock peeking out from his dark boxers. I pushed them down enough to grip his erection.

  Yes.

  “You want my cock inside you?” He lowered one of his hands and rubbed the tip along my slit. Half hanging against the door, I arched against the wood, needing it to dig into my back while he pinned me there. “Say it.” The crown of his erection nudged my entrance, and I considered that this might actually ruin me.

  “Fuck me,” I demanded, rocking forward against him, needing him to fill me completely.

  He pushed inside of me, so hard and so deep I let out some kind of pitiful moan or scream. Whatever it was, it had him grabbing me with both hands again as he pulled out then slammed back into me.

  “So fucking tight.” He grunted.

  He did it again, sliding out, only to slam in until his cock was coated with my arousal and I’d adjusted to his length.

  Then we moved like crazed creatures about to combust. I clung to him as he pumped in and out of me, my back hitting the door with loud and obnoxious thuds. His grunts, my moans…if someone were in the hall, they’d know exactly what we were doing. This was madness. I wasn’t this girl who got fucked against doors or sat on a guy’s face the night after he told me his plans to fuck someone else. I hated that he drove me to this point of obsession, of proving how quickly I was unmade and rebuilt into his plaything.

  My chest heaved up and down, my tits bouncing as he pumped ruthlessly in and out of me. It felt like he was punishing me for tonight, like he wanted our disagreement settled this way, and I was saying yes. Figuratively and physically, over and over again.

  “Decker!” I gasped as my climax started in my toes, working up to my chest where I was hardly breathing, my head tossed back as undignified moans erupted from my lips. He matched me with groans, my name falling from his lips repeatedly like he was saying a prayer while he claimed his release. I wanted to cling to him, to hold him, have something serene and soft between us, not just wild abandon, but that felt like surrender and forgiveness, which I wasn’t sure I was ready to extend.

  Decker’s chest still heaved heavily while he lowered me, then he adjusted my dress until it was covering me once again. He ducked away, quickly scanning the room. He found a box of tissues near the piano and tossed it my direction while fixing his shirt and tie. The only sound in the room was of shuffling clothes and heavy breathing.

  Once I cleaned myself up, I searched for my underwear, only to realize belatedly that he’d ripped them; the remnants were being picked up by the man who’d just fucked me against a door. He shoved them into his pocket, watching me with a guarded expression.

  “That isn’t how I wanted it to be for us,” Decker whispered, buttoning what was left of his shirt. His hand reached around me while he shook his head. The latch lifted while he seemed to contemplate his words. He was taking too long for me, so I ran my fingers through his hair to fix it.

  “Then how?”

  His thumb ran along my bottom lip. Before I could say anything else, the door opened at our back, forcing us to move to the side. Elias walked in carrying two waters, his face falling as soon as he saw Decker and me still entangled in each other’s arms. My confusion swirled and battered against me, making me wonder at his timing. He’d said he was going to come back up…but he didn’t carry any food with him.

  I didn’t understand why my face felt so hot, or why it felt like I couldn’t get enough air.

  Decker looked surprised, but it somehow didn’t settle the feeling I suddenly had in the pit of my stomach.

  “So this is why you wanted me to come check on her?” Elias scoffed, shaking his head.

  D
ecker glowered at him, holding my wrist. “Get the fuck out.”

  “No, you wanted me to see this, right? After we fought tonight about the feelings I confessed having for her, you had to go and fuck her against the door, knowing I was on the other side.”

  I was going to be sick.

  “No!” Decker shouted, likely realizing how fucked up this entire thing was. “Baby, no that’s not…” He let me go, trying to face me.

  I couldn’t meet Decker’s eyeline.

  “Isn’t it?” Elias challenged.

  “You came over to the team house, busting down my door telling me to back off your girl, and I explained that I had real feelings for her. Next thing I know, I’m getting this random invite to show up at this party tonight, and now this.”

  I started for the door.

  “Mallory, he’s lying. That isn’t what happened here. I didn’t invite him. I didn’t know he was out there.” Decker ran after me, but Elias stopped him.

  “I think you’ve done enough,” Elias said before I heard the sound of skin hitting skin and someone grunting. I ran down the stairs as I heard someone’s body hit the floor, and then a crash sounded. They were fighting, and all I could do was hope the contents of my stomach would stay put until I found a bush or a garbage can.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sorrow was a constant companion as the days passed. Each one was slower than the one before. The sun would rise and fall, and I couldn’t seem to give any fucks about any of it. Taylor had been home but was hesitant to break through my frosty exterior. I wasn’t exactly mad at her or anything, but the memory of her inviting Decker was still a painful reminder that all of this was because of her.

  I’d met Decker and fell for him because of her. He had wanted her first. There was pain associated with her, and I wasn’t ready to face it.

  Decker had called several times a day. He’d sent messages. He’d sent flowers, the notes all begging me to talk to him.

  I wanted to believe him; I had just hit a limit for how much fuckery I was willing to accept within a thirty-day period, and I’d warned him my heart was made of glass. Even so, I’d risked it anyway, and now it lay shattered in unusable pieces.

  I didn’t know who to believe. Decker had lied in the past…or omitted things. I still had no idea who had invited Elias, and it was odd that he had just shown up. I’d known he was eventually going to head back up to the library, so it wasn’t too farfetched to assume he could have just been there waiting without Decker’s involvement. Every time I started down this path, excusing Decker…it just led back to that moment when I realized Decker had planned the exact same revenge with Taylor. If it were true that Elias had suddenly confessed to liking me in any way, I would be up next on his list of how to get revenge on Elias.

  It was all a mess.

  I nibbled on a lime-flavored chip while I stared out the window. I knew I should head to the kitchen and find better sustenance for my body. Hillary and Juan had been by a few times to ensure I was eating and showering, but it was now during the day, so they had class.

  It wasn’t until the evening after binge-watching a few episodes of some mermaid show likely meant for kids that I saw I had a few unread text messages.

  Taylor: I need you to come to Dad’s. It’s really important!

  I skimmed through a few from Hillary about her clingy new girlfriend and found another one from Taylor sent ten minutes after the first.

  Taylor: Please Mal, this is really important!

  Then there was one from Juan.

  Juan: I’m coming to get you. Your sister needs you.

  I scrunched my eyebrows at that last one. Since when did Taylor reach out to Juan? That was definitely not normal for their relationship, as far as I knew. I checked the time and saw I only had about five minutes before he would arrive, assuming he was coming from his apartment, though he also could have been coming from the rink.

  I jogged back to my room and dressed quickly for either scenario, finishing just as the front door opened.

  “Let’s go. Vamanos.” Juan didn’t waste time greeting me or asking if I was doing okay. He moved his hands, waving me out the door. I didn’t appreciate being rushed on behalf of my stepsister. We both sped down the walkway until we clambered into his still running car. Juan only took the risk because he knew who inhabited the units next to mine.

  “Since when are you buddy-buddy with my stepsister?” I asked, buckling myself into his little sports car.

  I caught his eye roll as he shoved his car into first. It reminded me of watching Kyle race for some reason, and that made my heart sputter, like a reminder that the last drops of love were in there but soon enough it would be dry.

  “Don’t be a snob,” he replied, speeding down the road and taking a hard left.

  “Seriously, what is the rush?”

  He let out an irritated sigh. “You’d know if you paid any attention to your stepsister at all.”

  “Excuse me.” I turned in my seat, glaring at him.

  “You’ve been in your own world for a month, Mal. Did you even know I was offered a spot on the Hornets?” He glanced over at me briefly.

  “Shut the fuck up, Juan. Are you serious?” He’d been hoping he’d get scouted for our local hockey team. He was a fantastic player, so I wasn’t surprised at all that he’d been offered a contract.

  “Yeah, I go in to negotiate terms next week.”

  “Did I miss anything with Hillary?” I watched the road, now curious how true his statement that I had checked out of my friends’ lives was.

  “She dumped her high-maintenance girlfriend, swore she was taking a break from dating, and within a week is already dating someone new.”

  “I hate the girls she dates,” I muttered, uneasy that I had missed so much of their lives.

  “She hates them too. I think that’s the draw…or something. I don’t know.”

  “What else did I miss?”

  “There’s a rumor going around about you and Taylor, and who your father is. There was a social media post about it, and there are some comments about how you’re working the system for that internship.” Each word was slow, steady, like he’d rehearsed the entire thing.

  I closed my eyes again, feeling all the walls closing in on me.

  “You maybe should have led with that.” I blinked, watching LED lights peek through overhanging leaves and shrubbery, which meant we were driving up the slope to my father’s house. Once he parked, he let out a tight sigh and opened his door. I exited too, legs shaky.

  “I love you, Mal. You know that, right?” He walked over to my side of the car and tucked me under his chin. I watched the house behind him, eyeing the lights in the windows, the ivy that crawled along the balconies and windows, the bleak, black door and bronze knocker. I blinked, trying to remember back to the house I grew up in.

  It was white with red trim and a tiny brick porch. There were always potted flowers out front because my mom loved fresh flowers. It was a humble one story with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. I remembered the carpets having a few stains here and there and we had a landlord, but Dad had loved the garage that was attached. It was only a block away from my school, and Dad used to walk me there every morning while Mom went to work.

  I blinked away tears as my best friend held me tight to his chest, but I couldn’t take any more.

  “Thank you, I’ll be okay. I think I'm going to stay here for a few days.” I stepped back and wiped at the rain beginning to fall against my face. He gripped my shoulders before giving me a small nod, then he was watching me walk up the steps to my father’s house.

  Bev opened the door before I even knocked and tugged me inside.

  “Girl, it’s raining outside—what on God’s earth are you thinking?” Her muddled Russian accent wrapped around me, reminding me of all the times she’d kept me company after Dad married Jackie. She’d play cards with me, gossip about her sisters back home, and even let me tag along with her when she went grocery
shopping. She was the closest thing I had to an aunt or a grandmother.

  “It literally just started, Bev.” I shivered but refused to let her see.

  “Well, your stepsister is already here…I’ll bring two hot cocoas to the living room.” She turned and headed toward the kitchen, and I was left watching her.

  I entered the living room, looking around the space. Chaise lounges, small sitting couches, and a lavish sectional all welcomed me, along with a roaring fire.

  “Taylor?”

  There was no response as I searched the space and came up empty. She wasn’t in the living room. Just then I heard yelling near my father’s office, so I slowly made my way in that direction.

  Before I reached the alcove leading to his door, someone’s hand wrapped around me and covered my mouth.

  “Shhhh,” my stepsister whispered in my ear, then she slowly lowered her hand and turned me around. “Listen.”

  I blinked rapidly and nodded my understanding then followed her toward the door. We both pressed our ears against the mahogany and listened.

  “Bullshit!” my dad bellowed, and something loud hit the wall to our left.

  My eyes rounded as Taylor and I turned toward each other in surprise.

  “We made the deal for Taylor, not Mallory,” Dad yelled angrily at whoever was in his office.

  “I don’t know what to say, sir…I befriended her and have real feelings for her.”

  That voice.

  I straightened away from the door, staring at the wood. Taylor slowly stretched away from it too, watching me carefully. Did she want me to hear this? Was this why she’d demanded I come? More muttering on the other side of the door had me leaning against it once more.

  “Bull. Shit. You expect me to believe you were offered the financial opportunity of a lifetime to set up this little ruse with Taylor, only to have it backfire on you because of that Decker boy, and now you have feelings for Mallory? I’m not an idiot—I know exactly what you’re doing, and it won’t work. Mallory is not a possibility.” My father’s curt tone brokered no argument. His angry pitch erected the tiny hairs on my arms.

 

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