Wildcard: Volume One

“I’ve got a sick little boy.” She laughs in disbelief. “It’s hardly the same thing.”

“Why not? What are you teaching him by not making time for yourself?” I argue.

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” she fires back. “I could be a crack-smoking prostitute for all you know.”

“Are you?”

“Well, no.”

“So, answer me: how long has it been since you were truly selfish?”

She doesn’t answer and I grin, knowing I have her. “Listen, smartass, I’ll tell you what: over the next three days, do three things for someone else. I’m talking completely unselfish acts. Then I’ll let you speak to my son,” she says.

What? What the hell am I supposed to do while lying on my arse? I can barely handle doing things for myself at the moment.

“Fine. But you have to do something for me.”

“No,” she protests. “That’s not how this works. You can’t put provisions on my provisions.”

“I can do what I want. I’m Ryder Stevens,” I say smugly. “Over the next three days, you do one thing for yourself. I’d have said three as well, but I wouldn’t want to set you up to fail.”

“Oh my God, you are unbelievable.” She laughs.

“I get that a lot.”

“Fine. Whatever. I have to go and get Jake from school.”

“Wait,” I yell, catching her before she hangs up. “Do I get to know your name yet?”

She laughs. “Scarlett. My name’s Scarlett.”

Chapter Seven

Seven days.

It’s the longest I’ve gone without sex in eight fucking years.

That is possibly the worst thing about being injured. I can handle the pain, and the boredom, but no sexual contact? That’s too much.

It’s Saturday morning, and today is the first day I’ve been left alone since they got here. They decided to take the opportunity of being in Paris to go sightseeing. I wait until I’m sure they won’t be back, and I push the sheet off me.

Reaching inside my boxers, I grip my hand around my cock, my fingers gliding up and down the shaft. I’m moving at a snail’s pace, because anything more and the pain totally ruins the moment.

After a few minutes, it’s obvious that it’s just not going to work. I am as hard as fuck, but the pain is too intense for me to get the traction I need to jack myself off.

“Fuck,” I hiss, giving up. I am beyond frustrated. I’m now even hornier than I was before. Fucking great.

Usually there were people I could call to help me out with this kind of problem, only I was still stuck—with my parents and sister—in an apartment in the middle of a foreign country. Not exactly a recipe for seduction. I fumble on top of my nightstand for my phone and punch in Josh’s number.

“Man,” he answers on the second ring. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

“No,” I mumble. “I’m going crazy here.”

“Yeah, sorry, Ryder. I meant to come and visit before I flew back, but with training and all . . .”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I’m literally going crazy. Do you know how long it’s been since . . . you know?”

He laughs. “Are you serious?”