Chapter 7
Since last night, Ryker has been mute. Something is on his mind. Our plane ride back was quiet as he held my hand, keeping his attention somewhere inside his thoughts.
He carries my bags into the house and takes them to the bedroom. I’m on his tail.
“Are you okay?” I ask tenderly.
He kisses my cheek. “Yes.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’ve never lied to me before. Why are you starting now?”
His expression hardens and he sits on the side of the bed, pulling me to his lap. “I can’t explain what I’m feeling.”
My heart slaps my ribs. “Is this feeling good or bad?”
“I love you so much it makes me fucking insane. It claws at my skin.” He moves his gaze away from me. “And I have no sufficient way to show you.”
I kiss his jaw. “You realize you do a tremendous job showing me?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not enough.”
I titter. “You do everything with such devotion. Trust me, it’s enough.”
“You walk into my life and take my world by storm. And all of a sudden, everything I’ve ever wanted sits in second place to you. The way I feel for you—I feel it down to my bones. And I swear to fuck, there is no way to express it.”
My heart squeezes. “I’m the luckiest woman alive.”
“I’m supposed to be a man, but I feel like a pussy. I’m crippled by my love for you. I’m sitting back and marveling at this shit.” He swallows. “Everything I do, I’m fighting for something. A winning bell, a championship, a paycheck, but with you, there isn’t an ending and I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m in uncharted territory.”
“Do you feel I’m standing in the way of your dreams?” I ask.
He chuckles and switches his view to me. “You are my dream.”
The air gets sucked from my lungs.
He kisses me softly and moves to stand. “I love you,” he says. “I’m going to the gym.”
After throwing laundry into the washer, I call Candice.
“What’s going on, chick-a-dee?” she answers.
“I think Ryker’s depressed because he loves me,” I say and then laugh. “Something happened while we were gone and I have no clue. He said he doesn’t do a good job showing me he loves me.”
She hums thoughtfully. “Did you disagree?”
“Of course.”
“Maybe he’s…I dunno. I’ve got nothing,” she snickers.
“Remember when I told you he’s like a contradiction? I swear he’s fighting between good and bad right now.”
“Like the angel versus the devil sitting on his shoulders?”
“Except I think it’s compassion versus alpha,” I say.
“That makes sense. With you, he’s sensitive. But in his world, he has to remain superior,” she says.
“How do I help this?”
“You don’t,” she states simply. “Let him ride it out. He’ll work through it on his own.”
“Yeah,” I sigh.
“He’s balanced it so far. He just needs to readjust. Don’t overthink it. You know you’ll lead yourself down some dark alleys if you do.”
“I know I have nothing to worry about. I just hate he’s struggling with his feelings. My big macho softy.” I laugh.
“You need to harden that softy and ride it,” she states.
A loud laugh bursts out of me. “Oh my god, you just didn’t.”
“I did.” She sounds proud. “Let your man grasp reality. He’s got a lot of changes about to happen.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you soon.”
He’s shirtless, taking swings at the heavy bag when I quietly step into the gym. After getting off the phone with Candice, I got to thinking, which then turned into an idea. Now I’m executing it.
He doesn’t notice me enter the ring. He’s focused like hell on the bag.
I clear my throat.
His head snaps my direction.
I smile. “I heard there was this guy who can teach me things.”
“Is this guy sexy?” he quips calmly.
“Very,” I emphasize. “He looks a lot like you.”
His brow quirks up as he smirks.
I unravel the hot pink cloth and begin wrapping my left hand. He moves closer but doesn’t enter the ring watching me. I do my right hand.
“Toss me those gloves over there,” I nod my head. “The red ones.”
The red ones match his black ones—fingerless with padded knuckles. He grabs them and then hops into the ring, holding them out in front of him and regarding me with curiosity.
I slip my hands into them and, without warning, punch him in the arm. Or at least I tried. He moved.
“You’re not supposed to look where you’re about to strike. It’s a dead giveaway,” he states casually.
I stand, proudly, in the stance he taught me. “So, where’s this guy who can teach me these things?”
“Fired him,” he says. “I replaced him.”
I swing again, and…again, he moves.
I try—emphasis on try—to kick him in the thigh, but he takes a step back.
I fire off a punch again, and finally, he swats my hand, tossing a soft handed punch. It’s so slow, I see it coming, so I duck, moving out of its way.
Pride tugs his lips.
I come at him with my left—he moves—but immediately behind it, my right.
Of course, I don’t land it.
He shifts, bringing his left toward me. I move and I feel like doing a victory dance. We begin trading punches…well, his are more like love taps. They don’t come with any power behind them. Back and forth, he keeps me moving with his incredible blue eyes fixated on mine.
I’m breathless but resisting the urge to stop. I want to help him through whatever it is he’s struggling with, and what better way than to incorporate both things he loves together.
I straighten, looking past him, hoping he’ll follow my view. It works. Right when he glances over his shoulder, I leap with the idea of quickly twisting to his back.
Let’s just say I didn’t think this all the way through.
He’s holding me like a mother would hold her child on her hip. He’s laughing, and I’m grunting as I pull and wiggle, trying my damnedest to get around his large frame to his back.
It’s no use.
I try a different tactic, maneuvering to his front, wrapping my hands around his neck, and heave backward.
He chuckles and is still standing.
“Dammit,” I titter, putting my feet back on the ground.
“What were you trying to do?” he asks facetiously.
I forge angry eyes.
Swiftly, he knocks my legs out from under me, and somehow, puts my back on the mat without the large thud. It’s gentler than I expected even though I yelp.
He pins my hips with his and smirks. “This?”
“Not exactly like this, but close.” I laugh.
He leans, placing a lot of his weight onto my body, and brings his face to mine. “This close?”
I hum pleased, but shake my head.
He drops lower, flattening his chest to mine with a questioning smirk.
I lift my head, placing a quick kiss to his lips. He remains silent as he just gazes at me, his eyes flicking between mine, before slanting over my mouth and kissing me. It’s slow and passionate. His tongue glides across mine and it sends a tickle down my back, exploding heat into my core.
Sliding my hands between us, I push him backward. “If one wanted to get on top from here, what would they do?”
His eyes smile. He shifts, rolling to his back, pulling me along with him. I’m straddling him.
“Just ask,” he says.
I tilt my head. “Well, that was easy.”
Between my legs, I can feel his hard-on. I grin impishly and then rock my hips against him. He groans, gripping my waist, pulling me more strongly into him. Heat sears my core. I splay my hands across his sweaty chest and drag them heavily up and to his cheeks.
“You’re sexy,” I tell him.
He grins. “You should see my view.”
He cups my breasts, gently squeezing, and I seize the moment, springing to my feet, scrambling away. He’s to his feet before I can blink, stalking me.
I back up, laughing. “You want this?”
His left brow quirks.
Playfully, I tap my chin. “Once you’re done here, I’ll be at home waiting for the man I know undoubtedly loves me more than I can ever imagine.”
“You’re not leaving,” he gruffs.
“But you’re not done here. I interrupted. Finish whatever self-talk you were having and when you figure it out, I’ll—”
“You’re not leaving,” he repeats. His eyes dance with amusement.
“You can’t keep me here,” I say innocently.
He stretches his head from shoulder to shoulder. “I can’t?”
“No,” I answer.
He takes a step forward. I match it backward.
“You realize you have nowhere to go,” he informs unemotionally.
“You realize I can run faster than you?” I say with a small laugh.
“Try me.” His tone matter-of-fact.
I glance to the door and take off in a giggle fit with all my might toward it, determined to get out of it before him.
It doesn’t work.
He scoops me up with one arm and throws me over his shoulder. I’m laughing, unable to catch my breath as I squirm trying to get off him.
“I told you, you’re not supposed to look where you’re going,” he says walking toward his office.
Pushing the door shut with his foot, he finally allows my feet to hit the floor. Threading his fingers through my hair, he crushes into my mouth. It’s hard and ardent. When he pulls back, I’m breathless.
His eyes are dark when he levels them with me. “You’re such a distraction.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper through lust.
“Do you know how fucking sexy you looked in the ring against me? You looked so motherfucking incredible.” His tone is gravelly, rasping lowly.
I bite my lip.
Grabbing my chin, he pushes my face toward the ceiling and then laps his heated tongue from the center of my chest to the bottom of my jaw. I’m liquid.
“You want me?” he mocks my words.
When I don’t answer, he bends, biting my earlobe.
“I asked a question,” he says.
Feeling brave, I respond. “You never answered me. Why should I answer you?”
His eyes narrow with a sexy storm cloud glazing them. His jack ticks. “I always want you.”
I exhale. “Then we’re even.”
A deep chuckle vibrates his chest. He twists me, placing my back to his chest and holding my hips. “I can’t promise I’ll control—”
“Nobody asked you to.” It’s a simple statement that explodes his self-control.
Immediately, I’m against the cool wall, my pants are being shoved down my thighs, and legs parted. He snakes his hand to my folds and exhales a satisfied grunt.
I know he’s fighting a war within. He’s built a beast—an alpha, macho, hardened beast. But his heart, in his mind, makes him weak—something he is not. He loves hard. Devoted fiercely. His utmost loyalty rests with me.
He circles my clit and tweaks my nipple. My head falls back to his chest as my hands reach for his hips behind me. The moment my fingers find his skin, he stops, snatching my hands, and slamming them to the wall above me.
He bends, placing his mouth to my ear. “Do not touch me.”
“What?” I ask, trying to control the shake in my voice.
Heat from his tongue, drags the back of my ear. “You teased me out there. You think I’ll play nice now?”
My heart is thundering in my chest from the intensity of his words, the sexiness of all this. He pushes me harder against the wall, digging his hard-on into my skin. Heavy hands flow over my shoulders, wrapping around my ribcage to grip my breast.
“Whit…” his voice shakes a bit.
I swallow my bashfulness and tell him what I feel he needs to hear. “However you need to. Show me what you’re fighting.”
He takes an unsteady breath. “I’ll hurt—”
“No you won’t. I trust you,” I say.
Suddenly, he twists my hair in his hand, pulling it. The pressure burns, and I bite my lips to keep from hissing at the pain. He moves his shorts, lines up, and slams his dick into me. It’s so intense, so fierce, I can’t stop the cry that falls from me.
He hisses, jarring into me. He pulls my hair further, forcing me to arch and lose the connection of his chest. He digs his finger into my ass with a growl.
Abruptly, he pulls out and twists me to face him, holding my hands above my head. Our chests rise and fall. His eyes are a dangerous shade of dark.
He bends, and pushes in, slower, less forceful while lifting me by my ass. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his hips. One arm is around my waist, the other, holding my shoulder pulling me down into him.
“I love you, Whit,” he grunts. “You’re so fucking paralyzing.” He lifts and pulls me back down.
He carries me to the desk and lays my back on it, retreating on top of me. Staring me directly in the eyes, he says, “You’re not supposed to dominate my world, yet I’m so fucking submissive to you.”
I reach up and drag my hand down his chest, across the ridges of his flexing abs. “I hate that you battle yourself.”
His eyes flare.
“You’re not weak, Ryker,” I add.
His eyes flare again.
“Just because you love me…you’re not weak. You’re the strongest man I know, both physically and mentally.”
He blinks and shoves forward. I moan, closing my eyes. The beautiful assault doesn’t stop there, and he pumps into me ravenously. My body tightens, jerking as my orgasm begins to slam into me. He crashes into my mouth so relentless it steals my breath. I writhe, dragging my hands over his body to pull him closer.
“You,” I force out through my bashfulness. “It’s you.”
He hisses, plunging into me voraciously as his orgasm follows in behind mine. He growls to the ceiling, rooting himself. Spasms rock me.
His breathing is labored when he rests his forehead to mine, locking his eyes to mine. “I enjoy you being my distraction.”
“If this is what I get, I’ll distract you all the time,” I say lazily.
He kisses my chin. “Now who’s insatiable?”
When I get to my feet, he gently grabs my chin, pulling me to his face. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He looks crestfallen and doesn’t answer me.
“I wish you’d quit your war. You love me. There’s absolutely no way I don’t know this. It doesn’t make you weak, Ryker. Maybe to me, but I’m the only one who holds that power and everyone knows that.”
“That’s what scares me,” he exhales quietly.