Wildcard: Volume Two

Matt. I’ll fucking kill the bastard.

“Is there anyone you haven’t spoken to?” I growl. “Wait, that’s right: me.”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” she whispers. Her emerald eyes are pleading with me.

I look away, because if I stay focused on her I just might break. “Who is the guy?” I ask. I’m so close to her, close enough to kiss those fuckable lips. I close my eyes and steady myself, because now is not the time.

“Jake’s father.” Her voice cracks.

“What does he want?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer. Instead she bows her head, letting the tears roll down her pale cheeks. I laugh, because I no longer need an answer. That look says it all.

“It’s not that simple.”

“So why are you here?” I grit my teeth and force myself to look at her.

“Because I needed to see you,” she says softly.

She needed to see me? What about what I need? I laugh and shake my head. What am I supposed to do with this shit? She didn’t mean to hurt me?

Bullshit.

“Please, Ryder, let me—”

“Let you what?” I growl.

I back her against the wall and glare at her. I can feel her heart race as shock overcomes her features. She’s scared of me. Before I can comprehend what I’m doing, I press my lips against hers. She gasps as my mouth devours hers.

I rip at her shirt, popping open the buttons. She moans as I tear her bra off her chest. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I roughly pull her toward me. She obeys as I lift her mouth to mine, kissing me back with her sweet, soft lips.

Dragging the shirt down over her shoulders, I toss it on the floor and lift her into my arms. She whimpers as my lips close around her nipple, gasping as I bite down. Hard.

“God, Ryder,” she cries. Her hands are raking through my hair as my tongue circles her nipple, teasing her.

I clear the small, round table and throw her on top of it. She groans as I unzip her skirt, shrugging it down over the curve of her hips. She sits up and kisses me as I unbuckle my jeans. I reach into my briefs and pull out my erect cock.

My fist grabs at her lace panties as I rip them clear off her. She cries out, her arms closing around my neck as I thrust myself deep inside of her.

“Ryder, oh God, yes.” She gasps when I fill her pussy. Her eyes are wide as they meet mine. She’s struggling to understand what the hell is going on—and to be honest, so am I.

I roll her over because I don’t want to look at her. All I want to do right now is fuck her out of my head. Because in some strange, fucked-up way, I actually believe fucking her will make it easier for me to forget about her.

She moans, letting me know that she’s enjoying the feeling of me inside of her. My heart pounds, because as much as I don’t want to admit that I like that she likes it, I do.

I love that she likes the feel of my cock inside her.

I lift her thigh and thrust myself further inside her. She’s just another pussy wanting to be fucked. That’s all. Nothing more.

“Fuck,” I growl, releasing inside of her. I groan, and for a second the only thing I care about is how her tight pussy is milking me dry. Pulling out, I walk off. I’m annoyed at myself for enjoying it so much. I’m annoyed at her for enjoying it. Most of all, I’m furious at myself for fucking her without a fucking condom.

“Are you on the pill?” I ask her. She nods, and relief rushes through me. I have no idea what I would’ve said if her answer had been no. “Good,” I mutter. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”

“What?” She gasps.

She’s shaking as she reaches for her skirt, pulling it over her slender hips, and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s upset or exhausted. Either way, I pretend not to care. Her lip is trembling, and for a second I think she might cry.

My jaw clenches as I stare her in the eye. “You heard me. I guess now we’re even. We’ve both been fucked.” I don’t flinch as I address her.