Ryker (The Powers That Be Book 4) Read online

“Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not falling for that shit again. My luck, I’d see him making out with triplets on his front porch.” I narrowed my eyes at her which made her chuckle. “At least Gladys understands.”

  “It’s not that I don’t understand,” she scoffed making me squint my eyes now. “I get it. I do. I mean, Chance totally taught me not to trust any man ever. Fucker.” She downed the rest of her beer and signaled to the waitress that we needed another.

  “So how’d your class go tonight?” I asked, veering away from that particularly touchy topic. Sharee thought Chance had cheated but I honestly didn’t. As the quarterback, he’d had to do a photo shoot with one of the cheerleaders for the program cover. The shoot had lasted longer than Sharee thought it should have and she’d immediately cried, “Personal foul!” at this, not even giving him the opportunity to explain. As her best friend, I’d listened to her complaint and tried presenting reasons for the shoot’s delay but she’d wanted nothing to do with it, so I’d given up deciding she must’ve wanted to break from him to begin with.

  “Philosophy of Law? It was good. We have assigned readings we’ll discuss. This week’s is the death penalty. Good times.”

  The waitress brought our drinks and I asked Sharee before taking a sip, “So what’s your take?”

  “If they’re guilty,” she made a squick noise as she drew her finger across her throat.

  “Well, all right,” I replied with a giggle.

  I managed to steer our conversation away from Ryker the rest of the night, thank God, and since we both had class in the morning, we had only one more drink before calling a cab to take us back to our apartment.

  ~*~*~*~

  I managed to avoid Ryker the next morning in seminar. Oh, I’d seen him all right, how could I not notice the hottest guy there, but I was proud of how I’d played it off and looked right past him as if he wasn’t even there. Shelby had been full of questions but I just told her he was someone from my past who was going to stay there and left it at that.

  After seminar, I’d been bored to tears at home since I’d quit my job at the downtown Nordstrom store, which I’d loved, by the way, because I’d worked in handbags and accessories and got to handle designer purses all day. But I knew student teaching would take up most of my time, so I’d quit. Now due to my boredom, I ended up cleaning out my closet and dresser, taking the clothes I knew I’d no longer wear and dropping them off at Goodwill. I’d felt so good about getting rid of things that I’d gone shopping for new clothes, totally negating my progress. Oh, well.

  The next morning I was psyched, ready to get to the school I’d been assigned where I’d be teaching elementary PE the first seven weeks which was awesome. My mentor teacher was Coach Gilbert, a crotchety but hilarious guy who’d been the football coach at one of the area high schools for umpteen years before retiring. He now taught PE because he said his wife had told him he was driving her crazy being at home all day and if he didn’t get back to doing something, she’d kick him out and/or divorce him. I thought it was crazy how well the kids responded to him since he was rather harsh with them, but there was no denying the mutual love they had for each other. And although he may have acted as if he was annoyed when each class came in, the twinkle in his eyes told a different story.

  I’d had a blast helping “coach” the kids that day but had been shocked right off the bat when Coach G had split his first hour, which was made up of first graders, mind you, into teams and had them play dodgeball. Four kids had had to sit out because they’d gotten beaned in the face and were crying, two had fallen down and scraped their knees and had to go to the nurse to get Band-Aids and one unfortunate boy had taken a ball to his crotch which made him howl in pain.

  “Um, Coach? You don’t think this is a bit much for kids this little?” I’d asked after one kid ran over with a bloody nose only to have Coach G tell him to suck it up and go to the bathroom and get a paper towel.

  “Girl, these kids need this more than anything right now. Kids are so babied nowadays it makes me sick. Just give them a few years and they’ll be on their cell phones twenty-four seven or sitting inside all summer long playing video games getting even softer. I’m teaching them to be tough and to appreciate sports. The ones who can hack it will be the future stars,” he informed me.

  I didn’t understand his logic but when class was over, they all gathered around him (even the hurt ones) telling him how much fun they’d had and could they do it again tomorrow. Maybe he had a point.

  The rest of the day had been the same only with older kids who loved Coach G as much as the little ones did. I guess he had a system and it worked, so who was I to question it? By the end of the day, I’d learned quite a bit and knew I was going to like it and couldn’t wait until the next week when he’d told me I’d be taking over a couple classes.

  4—Near Fall

  That night I was back in my athletic injury class, watching yet another video on taping as we waited for the athletes to get there for us to practice on. I knew Ciara and Madison and several other basketball players from the women’s and men’s teams were coming, but what Coach Nolan had failed to mention was he was also bringing in volunteers from the wrestling team since they were in season too. Yeah. I didn’t find this out until the door opened and several muscular guys walked in.

  And when Ryker walked in with them my eyes just about popped out of my head.

  What the hell? The wrestlers had had a meet today too but I guessed it was now over.

  “Fuck,” I mumbled.

  “What?” Taylor, my partner from Monday, asked.

  “Tell you later,” I whispered, leaning my head to her and rolling my eyes.

  I got brave and took another look at Ryker in all his brooding intensity. And holy shit, he was hot!

  His dark caramel-colored hair was still wet from the shower he’d just taken and the gray compression shirt he wore stretched across his sculpted chest clinging to his stomach to where if I wanted, I could probably count every ab muscle he had. All eight of them.

  Damn.

  His eyes immediately met mine and the smirk he gave me had me frowning. I frowned even harder when he made a beeline right to me.

  When he came to my table, I sputtered, “Y-you aren’t who I’m working with,” which made him grin.

  “Coach Nolan?” he hollered. “I’m with Francesca. You good with that?”

  “I’m good, Ryker. Tell her you’re a groin strain,” Coach N called back as he walked around the room assigning athletes to everyone.

  Groin strain? What! Was he serious? Oh, my God.

  “This is so not cool,” I hissed, glaring at Ryker who was already getting up on the table with a huge shit-eating grin on his face.

  “So, gorgeous, you want me to drop trou or just hike my shorts up?” he asked, and believe it or not, his grin got even bigger.

  “I hate you,” I muttered as I bent under the table to grab some KT tape out of the caddie.

  He burst out laughing. “Didn’t hate me last Saturday when I made you come so many times you were speakin’ in fuckin’ tongues.”

  I stood up slowly and gave him the most hateful look I could. “That was before I knew you were an asshole.” This made him snort. “And a manwhore.”

  He threw his head back and barked out a laugh and I’ll be damned if that wasn’t the most attractive thing I’d ever seen. Ugh.

  “You didn’t seem to mind my ‘manwhore’ skills the other night, darlin’,” he said still chuckling.

  I set the tape on the table and turned to him. “Here’s the deal. I’ll do this but you have to shut up.”

  “I’ll try,” he answered, a half smirk now gracing his beautiful face.

  “Whatever,” I mumbled as I looked down at the tape knowing I’d have to measure it. When my eyes came up I saw his dancing with amusement because he knew my dilemma. God! “Hang on.”

  I opened my book to the page that illustrated taping groins and cringed. Okay. I could do this. Blo
wing out a breath, I grabbed the tape and moved toward him.

  “I need you to bend your knee to create a stretch in the, uh, the groin area.” He pulled his knee up slightly on the leg farther from me hanging the one close to me off the table. I licked my lips as I tried figuring out how to do this without having to touch him. “Okay, I need to measure. Keep quiet.” I lifted my eyes and watched as with sheer glee on his face, he lifted a hand, put it to his mouth as if he had a key in it, turned it and threw the “key” away. Ass.

  Moving in between his legs, I held the end of the tape putting it on the inside of his leg a few inches above the back of his knee stretching it up and over his muscular thigh toward his crotch. Gah! I next quickly stepped away letting go of the tape as I grabbed the scissors. This, of course, made me lose my measurement, so gritting my teeth I glanced up at him and held the tape out toward him as if it was all his fault.

  “I’ve got to get the right amount or it won’t work,” I accused, inwardly rolling my eyes because of course it wasn’t his fault he was so distracting. It was mine for being so mesmerized by such a jerk.

  “You need me to give you something long to measure it by?”

  Just when I thought he couldn’t get any more disconcerting... but now I snickered because this shit had to end. I was tired of being in a constant flustered state when I was near him.

  “What?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

  “Nothing. Just, thanks for the offer but I need something more than six inches to go by.”

  Another barked laugh. “Baby, you know you need to double that if we’re being totally honest here.”

  I huffed out a humorless chuckle at that, but the bad thing was he wasn’t totally wrong, having only exaggerated by maybe three inches. Cocky jerk.

  “Whatever,” I murmured as I went in to measure once more.

  “Whoa there, cara,” he said, suddenly grabbing my hand making me look up at him with a frown. “You need to set those scissors down first before getting close to Ryker, Jr.”

  I laughed despite the fact that he’d just called me precious in Italian which was what my grandpa had always called me, and I knew Ryker probably had no clue what it meant anyway. Setting the scissors down (and quelling any Lorena Bobbitt jokes I may have had), I gave him an am I good now look and at his nod, I proceeded to measure the tape again.

  “You don’t even know what cara means,” I challenged trying to divert my attention away from the fact that I was mere inches from his glorious cock.

  Before I could move back, he wrapped an arm around my waist pulling me to him and as he looked deep into my eyes, he answered, “It means precious.”

  My eyes got big as I stared at him, shocked as hell that he’d known.

  “Um, yeah,” was all I could squeak out before I pulled away making him let me go. Lord. Why was I so attracted to this guy? I mean, besides the obvious, of course. But I knew he was a player. Knew he only wanted to sleep with me because, hell, he slept with everyone. And remembering that pissed me off, so after cutting the tape, I tried announcing indifferently, “You’re going to have to pull your shorts leg up,” but I’m sure my voice cracked.

  “Sure you don’t want me to just take them off?” he asked, his lip curling up on one side.

  I found myself sighing yet again as I looked back at him. He really was beautiful. Too bad he had no depth of character when it came to relationships.

  “Just pull it up,” I directed with an annoyed look, feeling as if I were talking to one of the first graders I’d helped coach today.

  Sticking the end of the tape to the back of his knee and stretching it up was the most tedious thing ever since I knew where it’d end. But, by golly, I did it and couldn’t help the triumphant look I gave him.

  “Good job, Mangenelli,” Coach N said as he walked by. He added over his shoulder, “Now add another piece just like that just above it and you’ll be done.”

  “Shit,” I mumbled beneath my breath.

  “What was that?” Ryker asked with a snort.

  I gave him my evil death glare as I grabbed the KT tape to cut a new piece. Once measured and cut, I stepped between his legs once again to apply it

  “I’m thinking I should pay you for the cock massage when you’re finished,” he smarted off.

  Now, I’ve always had somewhat of a bad temper—it’s the Italian in me—which at that moment I regretfully demonstrated, and immediately felt horrible afterward.

  “What the fuck?” Ryker shouted when I ripped the second piece of tape off his leg after having smoothed it down, pulling off lots of leg hair with it, I was sure.

  But now I had to own it. Giving him a sheepish look, I said remorselessly, “Sorry.” I smoothed the tape back down as best I could and was finished, thank God.

  His voice dropped to a menacingly low level. “Gonna make you pay for that one, Mangenelli.”

  My eyes came up to his as I bit my lip actually feeling bad that I’d hurt him. “I said I was sorry.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “You owe me now. After class, you’re coming home with me to kiss this shit all better.”

  I huffed out a laugh. “Right. And after I’m finished I’ll blow you to show how deeply apologetic I am.” I rolled my eyes.

  His mouth was slightly open and askew and I watched in fascination as his tongue touched the molars on the bottom left. “I’d love nothing more than to have that smartassed mouth of yours wrapped around my cock again.” He was glaring at me but it was kind of sexy. Can glaring even be sexy? And I thought I figured out that the tongue thing he did was him being mad and probably trying to keep from yelling at me, kind of like gritting his teeth, I guessed. But even that was sexy. Argh!

  Trying to act annoyed, I retorted, “That’ll be happening never.”

  “It will. And after it does, I’m gonna spank your heart-shaped ass for being a bad girl tonight,” he said low.

  My mouth dropped open as I ignored the womb dip and subsequent gush of wetness between my legs at his threat. “You’re kidding, right?” I declared with a frown.

  He shook his head slowly as his eyes burned into mine. “Thing is, I know you’d like it too.”

  My frown got even, well, frownier. “I highly doubt it,” I scoffed.

  He leaned in closer, his fingers encircling my wrist as he pulled me toward him. “Wanna know why I know?”

  I couldn’t help it. I was under his spell and therefore nodded.

  “When I said I’d spank you, your breathing sped up, your eyes dilated and you suddenly looked flushed. Bet if I stuck my hand in your panties right now I’d find you’re dripping wet.” He put his mouth to my ear and whispered, “Am I right, Francesca?”

  Holy hell.

  “Stop calling me that,” I replied shakily, flustered beyond all measure. No one called me by my full name except Mrs. Bertolini and Grandma and Grandpa Mangenelli, and it was unsettling to hear Ryker call me it because he made it sound so dirty coming off his lips.

  He let my wrist go and pulled back, a smirk gracing his gorgeous face as if he’d found out a deep, dark secret.

  “All right! Students, put your materials away and I’ll come by to grade you,” Coach Nolan called.

  I watched as Ryker smoothed the tape down and saw that there actually was quite a bit of hair stuck to it that was making the end curl up. God. I was a horrible person.

  “I’m really sorry I did that,” I whispered genuinely feeling bad for what I’d done.

  He looked up at me, eyes narrowed. “Don’t worry. You’ll pay, babe.”

  That’s what I was afraid of.

  5—Penalty

  Sometimes I question my ability at making good decisions.

  I say this because I was now sitting across from Ryker at O’Leary’s against my better judgment. Yep, that was me. Sitting right there. Across from Ryker Powers. All-around bad boy and player deluxe. But I wasn’t totally going to take the blame for how it happened.

  Right before Coach
Nolan had come by to give me my grade, Ryker had basically blackmailed me.

  “You want a good grade, go out with me tonight. Otherwise, I’ll show Coach the chunk of hair you ripped off my leg.”

  I’d narrowed my eyes at him wondering if he was bluffing but from the look on his face, I knew he wasn’t. I shook my head and bit out, “You’re unreal.”

  “You have no idea.” He grinned. “Oh wait. I guess you do.”

  Dear God. At that moment I thanked my lucky stars for my Italian ancestry since my blushing didn’t show up too much.

  “Why, Ms. Mangenelli, are you blushing?”

  Damn it. I guess I was wrong.

  “No! I don’t blush!”

  God. The looks he could give. And this one had me melting right there in front of him.

  “Lemme take a look, Frankie,” Coach Nolan said just then.

  I glanced at Ryker who raised his eyebrows at me in question, his hand on the tape daring me to turn him down. Crap! All I could do was nod, agreeing to going out with him.

  “She did a great job, Coach. Very professional and she definitely knew what she was doing,” Ryker told him.

  I choked out a cough making Coach Nolan look at me, eyebrows raised. He wasn’t fooled as he’d seen the horrible taping job I’d done on Taylor’s ankle Monday night.

  “Is that so? Professional and knew what you were doing?” he asked not buying one bit of it. All I could do was nod acting all humble and shit. Ugh. “All right. Looks like a solid B,” he muttered, looking back at the tape job, and I know he noticed Ryker’s hand holding the top part down but thankfully he didn’t call me on it. “All right, you’re finished for tonight. See you next Monday,” he said before walking away to look at the next student’s work.

  Ryker gently pulled the tape off his leg, then rolling it up tossed it into a nearby trashcan before turning and letting both legs hang off the table. “Come with me to the locker room so I can get dressed.”

  I bit my lip thinking I could just tell him no. I mean, I’d already gotten a good grade.