Ryker (The Powers That Be Book 4)

by Harper Bentley

  11:16 p.m. and I was pissed for even checking my phone again.

  By 11:21 p.m. I was done. My feelings were hurt and I knew if I checked my fucking phone again I’d probably start crying. I turned off the ringer and put it on my nightstand and just as I turned to go to sleep, my phone started buzzing.

  I can’t explain what went on in my head (and stupid heart) when I saw MFRyker Calling on the screen. Excitement. Anger. Elation. Relief.

  I slid my finger across the screen and answered, “Hello?”

  “Hey. Sorry I’m late. Fuckin’ Martinez took for fuckin’ ever to get out of the locker room then we stopped and ate then Coach had a meeting in his hotel room. I just got out.”

  “Oh,” I whispered.

  “Where are you?”

  “In bed,” I answered which made me shiver for some reason.

  “Mmm… good.”

  I could hear talking in the background. “Where are you?”

  “In my hotel room. Rooks, my roommate, is staying in his girlfriend’s room.” Ah. The talking was the TV.

  “Isn’t that against the rules?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “Yeah. Only if he gets caught, though.”

  “Oh. So how’d you do today?”

  “Pinned my opponent in the second period. He was pissed too. All-American last two years, thought he was the shit. You should’ve seen the look on his face when the ref blew the whistle. Priceless.”

  I laughed. “I’ll bet. Good for you, Ryker. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks, Francesca.”

  “Um, I don’t really understand wrestling since I was always playing basketball, so don’t think I’m dumb if I ask the wrong questions.”

  “I’d never think you’re dumb. Ask whatever you want and I’ll answer.”

  “Okay. So do you wrestle again tomorrow?”

  “No, not until Thursday then again on Saturday. This is some tri-state thing that we do every year. Washington, Oregon, Idaho. This year we’re in Portland. Last year it was at home. Year before it was in Boise. We stay the week and all three schools compete against each other.”

  “That sounds like a good idea but I’ll bet you’re tired when you get back,” I said.

  “It’s tiring just like a tournament but not too bad. We’ve got managers who do all our laundry and we get fed, so we’ve got it pretty good.”

  “What hotel are you staying at?”

  “The Radisson which is pretty nice.”

  “Oh, good.” I thought I heard him lying on the bed. “So I didn’t get to tell you the other night that I met your brother, Loch. If he hadn’t told me you were older, I’d have thought you were twins.”

  He chuckled. “People are always saying that. Before Zeke and Gable graduated, they were always mixing us up.”

  “You have three brothers? And you all look alike?”

  “Yep.”

  “So the Powers brothers have had all the women at Hallervan mesmerized for going on six years now?”

  He chuckled and it was such a sexy sound. “Mesmerized, huh? Do I have you mesmerized, Francesca?”

  My toes curled at hearing him laugh and at how deep his voice was. Gah. “I’d have to say you do, Ryker. And most people call me Frankie.”

  “I’m not most people, Francesca. So tell me how I have you mesmerized.”

  I bit my lip unsure what I should tell him. I tried channeling a young Mrs. B to see what she’d say. She sounded like she’d been pretty feisty when she was younger, was probably pretty straightforward, so I tried going with that.

  “I’ve always wanted to know you, but you seemed untouchable so I stayed away.” I didn’t tell him about our getting married and having three kids since it’d probably scare him off which made me snort quietly.

  “You stayed away?”

  “Well, yeah, until your party.” My face flushed just thinking of that night.

  “Mmm… the party. That was a good night.”

  I laughed. “You practically kicked me out of your bed. And then you didn’t even remember me.”

  “I remembered you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You were making out with that stripper chick with the pink VW Bug when I came by.”

  I heard him let out a breath. “Why did you come by?”

  “My roommate talked me into asking you out.” He was quiet for so long I thought he may have fallen asleep. “Ryker?”

  “Fucked that up, didn’t I?”

  I shrugged as I lay there. “Yeah, but everything happens for a reason.”

  I heard him shift in the bed. “I meant what I said that morning.”

  I closed my eyes, remembering as another shiver ran through me.

  “Baby, I meant it when I said you were the best.”

  My breathing sped up and I barely got out, “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Tell me what you’re wearing,” he rumbled, his voice all husky and low.

  Well, he wasn’t wasting any time here, was he? But, by God, I suddenly found I was all in, finished with trying to be feisty and probably not accomplishing it anyway.

  “A tank top and shorts.”

  “Can you do something for me?” he asked.

  “What?” I breathed out.

  “Can you put your hand under your tank top…”

  “Yes,” I whispered, throwing my covers back and doing as he said.

  “Now move it up to your gorgeous tit and run your thumb over your nipple.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, my voice all throaty.

  “Use your thumb and finger now. Roll it between them. Imagine it’s my mouth on it, sucking hard, licking, kissing, flicking my tongue over it.”

  A soft groan escaped as I pictured him doing all of that. God.

  “That’s it, baby. Do the same to your other breast now.” I knew he could hear me panting when he said, “Good girl.” That was a huge turn-on and made me arch up off the bed letting out a soft whimper. “Now move your hand down over your belly, Francesca… down inside your shorts, inside your panties and touch yourself.”

  “Ryker,” I moaned turning my head to the side where my face was unexpectedly in his hoodie that I’d hung on my bedpost. I reached for it with the hand that held my phone, pulling it down so I could smell it, him, which amped things up fast and a sound I couldn’t even describe slid from my throat.

  “Fuck,” I heard him mutter. “You rubbing your clit, baby?”

  “Yes.”

  “Put a finger inside yourself. Tell me how wet you are for me.”

  “So wet, God, so wet for you…”

  “Mmm… put another finger inside and move them in and out.” At my gasp, he ordered, “Now put another finger in. Imagine it’s my cock stroking inside you.”

  I heard him groan and realized he had to be touching himself too. The image that came to mind made my body tremble as I felt my orgasm building. “Oh, my God,” I moaned loudly.

  “Fuck yourself with your fingers, baby. That’s me fucking you right now, fucking you so hard,” he growled.

  And just imagining that got me there. “I’m gonna come!” I cried, pumping my fingers harder, picturing him above me, his hips driving into mine, his big shaft thrusting in so deep. A wave of euphoria immediately shot through me as I climaxed, my hips bowing up off the bed as my fingers went deep.

  I heard him bite out another “Fuck!” and knew he was coming too which was so erotic, so damned hot I felt another wave blast through me causing my toes to curl, my body to lock up for a moment before I collapsed onto the bed breathing hard. Holy damn.

  I listened to him breathing just as hard as I was then heard him say, “You there?”

  “Yes,” I answered between breaths.

  “God, you turn me the fuck on, Francesca,” he rasped.

  Even though I was thoroughly physically wasted at the moment, I mentally did a freaking happy dance.

  “You kinda do that to me too, Ryker,” I responded breathily.

  “Hang on,” he said. I heard him get up the
n water was running and I knew he was cleaning himself off which made me smile that I’d made him come too. I grabbed his hoodie and pulled it to my face, breathing in deep, wishing he were here. “Back,” he remarked a minute later and I heard him getting back in bed.

  “Hi,” I whispered.

  “Hey,” he answered right back. “So tell me about your family. Any brothers or sisters?”

  “Nope. I’m an only child.”

  He laughed. “I wouldn’t even have known how to feel if I didn’t have my brothers.”

  “It was lonely sometimes but I always had friends over, so it wasn’t too bad.”

  “Have you always live in Seattle?” he inquired.

  I told him about living in Texas before moving before my sophomore year in high school. I learned he’d been born and raised here and he now knew I’d been an All-American basketball player before tearing up my knee.

  We talked until four in the morning and the only reason he let me go was that I’d accidentally fallen asleep but had awoken suddenly, apologizing to him.

  “You get your rest, baby,” he whispered. “You’ve got to deal with kids tomorrow.”

  “Okay. ‘Night,” I whispered back.

  “’Night, beautiful,” he replied and then he was gone.

  I curled into my covers and fell asleep with a huge smile on my face.

  11—Danger Position

  My classes were great the rest of the week and the kids had learned to call me Coach M which was a lot easier for them. My night class was going well also. Monday night we hadn’t had class because of the holiday, but Wednesday night I not only learned how to tape jammed fingers but I mastered taping shin splints too. Before class ended Wednesday, Coach Nolan told us that the next several Wednesdays he was going to have athletes come in to talk about their previous injuries. As I was walking out, he called me over and asked if I’d speak about my torn ACL which was cool.

  Ryker and I texted the rest of the week off and on and I was thrilled that Mrs. B’s advice was working, even though I’m sure she would’ve frowned at the phone sex, but that’d been an error on my part. I’d be focusing on the flirty friend part from now on hoping the phone sex had been the intrigue.

  He texted Thursday that he’d won his second match by a technical fall, whatever that was. He’d tried explaining through texts, something about fifteen points from near falls which he also tried explaining, telling me his opponent’s head was on the mat and he’d gotten the guy’s shoulder at a forty-five degree angle to it and held it for five seconds so he’d gotten three points and I was so confused. But I’d texted him lots of celebration emojis in return and he’d texted back calling me a dork.

  Friday night he told me he wouldn’t be able to text much on Saturday because after his match his coach had asked him to help out which Ryker was totally pumped about. He said he’d be home Sunday night and would text once he got in.

  Saturday, I was pretty bored. I really wished I’d stayed at Nordstrom and asked to work on weekends. To fill the time, Sharee and I did a little shopping Saturday then came home for a marathon of The Office on Netflix and argued for an hour over whether John Krasinski was cute or not. I said yes, she said no, I finally pointed out that if Emily Blunt married him there was something there and she finally conceded.

  Sunday Sharee went to my parents’ with me for dinner. I’d made her promise not to say anything about my love life and she’d held strong until Mom sneakily asked what our Valentines were getting us and Sharee had blurted that she wouldn’t be getting anything but I possibly could. I berated her asking how in the world was she going to be a lawyer if she couldn’t even fend off a cross-examination from my mom. We were home by eight which gave me plenty of time to make up lesson plans for the week, throw in a load of laundry and make brownies. After taking a shower and getting into bed, my phone chimed.

  Text Message—Sun, Jan 25, 11:14 p.m.

  MFRyker: You still up?

  Text Message—Sun, Jan 25, 11:14 p.m.

  Me: Yep. Just lying in bed counting sheep

  Text Message—Sun, Jan 25, 11:14 p.m.

  MFRyker: If I were there, you’d be counting orgasms

  Oh my.

  Text Message—Sun, Jan 25, 11:15 p.m.

  Me: I’d probably lose count like before…

  Text Message—Sun, Jan 25, 11:15 p.m.

  MFRyker: Fuck yeah you would

  Feisty but friends only, Frankie!

  Text Message—Sun, Jan 25, 11:15 p.m.

  Me: So you’ll be at school tomorrow?

  Text Message—Sun, Jan 25, 11:16 p.m.

  MFRyker: Until lunch then I have practice

  Text Message—Sun, Jan 25, 11:16 p.m.

  Me: Who’d you have to blow to work out THAT schedule?

  There. That was feisty. I giggled to myself waiting for him to answer.

  Waiting.

  Waiting some more.

  And still waiting.

  Great. I’d pissed him off with my feistiness.

  I sat up in bed biting my lip wondering what to do. I wished I could run up and ask Mrs. B but she was probably in bed already and if not, she’d most certainly gripe me out for being so crude. When he still didn’t answer more than ten minutes later, I shrugged. Whatever. If he was that sensitive and that big of a baby then screw him, right?

  I lay back down and just as I set my phone on my nightstand it rang. Ryker. Eep!

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Who’d I have to blow?”

  I couldn’t help the snort I let out at hearing him say that but I quickly covered it up. “It was a joke… you know, as in ha ha, funny?”

  “Sweetheart, I don’t know if you remember correctly, but the only one who’s getting blown around here is me.”

  Ugh. There was the sweetheart again and what’d he mean by that? Was he meaning me or all the other women he’d slept with? Ugh.

  Italian temper kicking in in three… two…

  “Oh, I’m sure, sweetheart. You probably had women lined up all week wanting to blow you, didn’t you?”

  Shit. This is not where I was wanting this to go.

  He let out a laugh and fired back, “Every fuckin’ night. They couldn’t get enough of my cock.”

  “Fuck you, Ryker.”

  “Fuck me? About to make that happen, sweetheart.”

  Wait, what? It was then I realized there were car noises in the background so he was driving. Duh. And now my stomach dropped because he’d just admitted he was on his way to sleep with another woman.

  God.

  God!

  “Yeah, well, I hope you have fun,” I bit out hearing his car door open then close. “Do me a favor and lose my number.”

  I hung up disgusted at how things had just gone, hurt that he’d flaunted that shit right in my face and angry at myself for even trying to be his friend in the first place. Tossing my phone onto my nightstand I lay back in bed staring at the ceiling and felt a tear run down the side of my face. I wiped it away angrily then lay there wondering if I could be relocated for student teaching. But that pissed me off more since I’d been there first. If anyone should have to leave, it should be Ryker. I was thinking of how I could make that happen when there was a knock at the front door the same time a text came through.

  Text Message—Sun, Jan 25, 11:41 p.m.

  MFRyker: Answer your door, SWEETHEART

  ~*~*~*~

  I jumped out of bed and ran to the front door before Sharee woke up. Unlocking it then yanking it open, I looked up at Ryker who had his arms stretched up, his hands resting at the top of the doorframe, knee bent, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the ground, the hood of his jacket pulled up and hiding his face.

  I heard him blow out a breath then his head came up and he looked at me, his golden eyes boring into mine with intense broodiness. Jeez. When his tongue moved to touch his back molar, his mouth going askew, I knew he was pissed. Well, so was I.

  “Lose your number?” he
finally asked, his eyes glittery as they held mine.

  I leaned forward and snapped, “They couldn’t get enough of your cock?”

  He moved fast, arms coming down from the doorframe and stepping inside, he bent to put his shoulder in my gut and picked me up. He next kicked the door closed behind him twisting to engage the lock before turning back to the living room and asking, “Where’s your bedroom.”

  “What? Put me down!” I hissed as quietly as I could not wanting to wake Sharee, my fists banging against his lower back trying to make him let me go.

  Smack!

  Oh my God. He’d just spanked me.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” I whisper-hissed.

  “Where’s your fucking bedroom?”

  “Put me down!” I demanded, kicking my legs.

  Smack!

  “Bedroom?”

  Holy shit. I knew his stubborn ass wasn’t going to put me down, so I snarled, “To the left.”

  He took off walking, and once inside my room threw me on the bed before turning to shut and lock my door.

  “Are you crazy?” I bit off, scrambling to get off my bed on the other side.

  “You have no fuckin’ idea, sweetheart,” he said through gritted teeth then grabbed me by the ankle and pulled me back to him.

  I twisted around to where I was on my back thinking I could kick him if I needed to, which was a huge mistake because he was fast and it only served to give him a chance to grab my other ankle and pull me harder to him. His hands slid down behind my knees and he jerked my hips up off the bed, spreading my legs and pulling me where they went to either side of his waist.

  “What are you doing?” I shrieked when he fell on top of me, pinning me to the bed and pulling my tank top off.

  His hand went between us to unbutton his jeans then they were at my shorts, tearing them and my panties down my legs and off while I tried beating him off me with my fists. He had a condom out in no time which he put between his teeth and ripped open, his hood still on his head which gave him a menacing aura. “I’m giving you what you want. What you need,” he growled before thrusting inside me so hard it made us both cry out. “Fuck!” he roared as he began driving in, his hips pistoning so powerfully he was heaving me across the bed.