Wildcard: Volume Two (Wilcard, #2) (5 page)

“Can I get you a glass?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “No, I think I’m dehydrated from being out in the sun too long today. I swear these next two weeks are going to kill me.”

Opening the fridge, I retrieve a bottle of water and toss it to him. He catches it with ease.

“Drink. How are you liking it?”

“The water?” he asks. He cracks the top open and swallows a mouthful. “Tastes like water,” he smirks.

“No, you idiot. The tennis camp.” I roll my eyes at his terrible joke.
He is such a Brit sometimes.

“‘Like’ is a strong word.” He winces. “The girl I’m supposed to be mentoring is a know-it-all brat. I can’t tell you how much she gets on my nerves. And I hate being outside all the time,” he adds with a scowl.

“
Hate being outside?
” I repeat, my eyes widening. “You’re a freaking tennis player.” I giggle, because this girl sounds just like him. Maybe a dose of his own medicine is exactly what he needs.

“I know, I know. I never said I was easy to understand. I’m a complex guy.” He rolls his eyes and I laugh again.

I carry my wine into the bathroom and turn off the taps. Picking up my phone, I call Penny. It’s after eight and I want to say goodnight to Jake. If I leave it any later, he will be asleep.

“Hi, Mommy,” he says. My heart aches, because he only calls me Mommy when he’s missing me. Any other time he’s too grown up.

“Hey, baby. How are you feeling?” He sounds wheezy, which concerns me. “Have you been doing your breathing exercises?”

“Yep, I got the bubbles all over the floor today,” he chuckles.

I smile. I learned early on that it was easier to get him to do his breathing when I made it into a game. A straw in a bottle of soapy water was one of those games. He loved trying to blow through the straw and send the bubbles overflowing out of the bottle.

“Good boy.” I grin. “I love you lots, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay? We’ll stay in a hotel for a few days.”

“How come?”

“Because Ryder came all the way over to see you.”

“He did? Awesome!”

“Sleep well, and behave for Penny, okay?”

“Yes,” he sighs, which makes me laugh. “Love you, Mommy.”

“Love you, too. Can you put Penny on for me?” I wait as I hear the muffled sound of the phone being handed over to her. “Is he okay? He sounds wheezy.” I know she’s taking care of him, but I can’t help it: I always worry when it comes to Jake.

“He’s fine, Scar. I think he sounds worse because he’s so tired.”

I nod. I trust her judgment because she trained as a nurse before having Max and Lucy.

“Call me if you need me, okay? I’ll leave my phone on.”

“You know I will,” she laughs. “Are you sure you’re okay? Is he still bothering you?”

I glance at the half-open door and smile.

“I’m fine. I’m with Ryder.”

“God, I’m so happy for you, Scar. If anyone deserves a break, it’s you.”

***

S
ighing, I close my eyes and immerse my body in the hot water. The tub is huge; big enough for me to stretch out and relax. I sip my wine and try to switch off my head.

“You look cozy.”

I look up and smile at Ryder, who is leaning against the frame of the door. My gaze falls on his bare chest, a shiver racing through me. He smirks at me, unashamed and completely comfortable standing naked in front of me.

“You like what you see?” He lifts an eyebrow.

“I think we’ve already established that,” I say, laughing. I smile as he walks over and crouches down next to me. He winces, his hand moving to his lower back.

“Be careful,” I chide. The last thing I need is to worry about him too.

“I’m always careful,” he murmurs.

He leans over and tilts my face upward. My lips meet his in a soft, sweet kiss. I want to respond that he’s never careful, but he’s distracting me with his sexiness. He stands up, his lips curving into a smile.

“Enjoy your bath. I’ll be waiting.”

***

A
s I walk over to the bed where he is waiting for me, I smother a giggle.

Lying on his side, he breathes in and out in a steady rhythm, fast asleep. I slide into bed beside him.
So much for waiting.
He stirs and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his embrace.

His lips gently kiss the back of my neck. “Love you,” he mumbles.

My heart pounds, because I know he is barely coherent and will probably have no memory of those words tomorrow. But he said it: he loves me. No man has ever said those words to me. Or at least
meant
them.

A lump forms in my throat. Why did Tony have to come back? Why couldn’t he have just left things alone? Twice I’ve picked up the pieces of my life after he shattered them into nothing.

I can’t go through that again. I
won’t
go through that again.

R
yder

“Thanks,” she murmurs, taking the cup of coffee from my hands. She purses her lips and gazes away from me, her eyes clouded in thought.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“I’m fine.” She smiles—a forced smile—but her eyes give her away: she’s keeping something from me. I feel bad that I’m immediately suspicious. Between this shit with Tony and being away from Jake, I can’t even imagine how hard things must be for her right now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, not wanting to push her.

“Not really.” She hesitates and turns to face me. “I want you to take my mind off everything. Can you do that?”

Putting my cup down, I retreat to the bed. She bites her lip, her eyes shamelessly on my bare chest as I slide under the covers.

“This,” I say, raising an eyebrow as I wave my hand over my naked form, “is all yours to do with what you please.”

“You’re an idiot.” She bursts into giggles.

She wanders over, and I wait until she sets her coffee down on the nightstand before I wrap my arms around her waist. I roll her onto my lap. She cries out, surprised by my actions, her nails digging into my shoulder.

I sigh. She’s so fucking sexy, and she’s sitting naked on my lap. Could I be any luckier right now? Her legs are parted and kneeling on either side of me. I run my fingers up her bare leg. My eyes narrow at her as she groans.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I whisper.

She glances down at my hard cock, which is pressed against her thigh. “I can see that.”

“No, it’s not just about that. I’m glad you’re with me.”

I fumble through my words, because I don’t do sappy very well. Sex without feelings? Easy. Opening up my heart and risk getting hurt? Not so much . . .

“I’m glad I’m here too,” she says.

I catch the sadness in her eyes. It’s only there for a second, but it’s long enough for me to wonder what’s going on in that head of hers. Is it more than what I already know? I don’t know why, but I’m worried about her. Her anxiety is making
me
anxious, and I’m determined to fix it.

But before I can question her, my thoughts abandon me as she sidles down my body and takes my cock in her mouth. I groan at the feel of her lips around my length. I
know
this is a ploy to distract me, but I’m powerless to stop it.

She takes so much of me—which, considering my size, is impressive. All thoughts of wanting to get inside her head evaporate as she moves her lips up and down my cock. I’m incapable of thinking about anything else while her mouth is fucking me.

“Holy shit,” I mutter.
I can’t...even...

My hand finds her hair and I rake through the thick, raven strands before locking them into my fist and urging her to take more of me. She smirks at me, her green eyes sparkling as she tongues my tip.

She’s teasing me and I love it. 

Her arse is beautiful. The way it’s raised up in the air right now as she works my cock makes me want to drive deep inside her. I ease her off my cock and crawl to the end of the bed. She watches me, her eyebrows raised, no doubt wondering what the hell I’m doing.

Who gives up the chance for head?

Anyone who could see her beautiful arse right now would.

I kneel behind her, my fingers gently tickling her entrance. She moans, her body twitching. I hold her steady with one hand and slide a finger inside of her. My cock is throbbing, begging to explore her. She’s wet, and my fingers glide in and out of her with ease.

I reach behind me and retrieve the condom that I left on the bedpost. I slide it over my length and wrap my arm under her, lifting her arse higher. She gasps as I position myself at her pussy. Her arms are trembling and struggling to hold her up.

“You can’t go walking around like that and expect me not to react.” My voice is gruff, and I groan as my throbbing cock drives deep inside of her tight pussy. “You’re wearing me out,” I gasp as I thrust her against me. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

Her back arches and she cries out. My body aches, demanding more of her. I need to feel every part of her.

“Faster,” she whispers.

My hands grasp her hips as I rock against her. She groans and collapses onto the bed, exhausted. I grin and lie down beside her, pulling her into my embrace.

“That was . . . unexpected,” I finish with a grin.

She sighs as I kiss the back of her neck, cuddling up against me. “Mhhmm,” she agrees. “Sometimes unexpected is good.”

***

“W
hat are your plans for the rest of the day?” I step out of the shower and wait for her to answer. Silence greets me. “Scar?” With a towel draped around my waist, I walk back into the room. It’s empty. There is no sign of her, except for the handwritten note left on the unmade bed.

I pick it up and study it.

Sorry, something came up at work. I’ll speak to you later xx

I reread it several times before tossing it aside. Why wouldn’t she tell me that in person? How much effort would it have taken to walk the three meters to the bathroom and tell me that?

I try to ignore the uneasy feeling that is filling my stomach as I throw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Picking up my phone, I text her.

Me: Is everything okay?

Her: It’s fine. I forgot about a meeting, that’s all. I’ll call you later. Have a great day xx

I grab my sports bag and leave the room. I’m still not convinced, but I’m also already running late. Whatever is up with her, it will have to wait.

***

A
s soon as I arrive at the club I’m called into Rick Mason’s office. I already know what this is about—my altercation with Cally. I’m expecting that this is where I get relieved of my duties and lose half of my sponsorship deals. That would give Matt a heart attack.

I’ve never met Rick, but I am aware he is the CEO of this club, the president of one of my main sponsors,
and
the chairman of the Junior Tennis Association.

In other words, he owns the arse I have to kiss.

I have my apology ready and scripted in my head, even though no part of me is really sorry. I don’t have the patience or inclination to teach know-it-all brats how to win when they have no fucking intention of actually listening to what I have to say—and yes, I see the irony in that.

But I’m also not ready to go back to London just yet—not until I figure out this thing with Scarlett, and what the hell is going on with her.

“Have a seat, Ryder.”

I sit down and wait for the shitstorm that I’m sure is coming.

“I understand you’ve been mentoring Cally Harmer.” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I just received a call from her father. Apparently she was quite vocal on her dislike for you and your teaching techniques. Are you familiar with her career at all?” He sits back in his chair and waits for me to answer.

I shrug. I know enough: spoiled rich kid with a mild talent for tennis and a Daddy who answers to her beck and call.

“She’s a talented young girl, but she can be a fucking nightmare to work with.”

I laugh and rub my jaw. Rick is a picture of professionalism, and that, combined with his properness, makes hearing the guy swear hilarious.

Maybe this isn’t going to be the arse-kicking I’m expecting.

“Cally’s father thinks she can learn a lot from you. They would like you to coach her full time for the next two weeks. Jackson Harmer has donated over ten million dollars to this club in the past year alone, so you can understand my haste to keep him happy.”

Ah, Jackson Harmer. That explained some of this kid’s attitude. I’d never met the guy, but he is one of the top defense attorneys in the country. This guy obliterated every lawyer he came up against. He’d sacrifice his own family if it meant winning a case.

“
Coach
her?” I repeat, his words finally sinking in. “No offense, Rick, but I’m not a coach. I’m a
player
. And even if I were, I don’t think I could handle that kid every day—even only for two weeks.”

Rick smiles thinly. “Ryder, I want you to think about this before you give me a response. Maybe talk it over with Matt? I don’t need to remind you that many of your sponsors are concerned with your recent behavior.”

I stand up and smile tightly. I don’t like being threatened, and this is beginning to sound an awful lot like an ultimatum: either I teach the brat or lose my sponsors. “I’ll keep that in mind, Rick. Now if you don’t mind, I’m already running late.”

***

M
att answers my call on the second ring. “Ryder,” he says. He sounds amused, and right away I
know
he knows.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I protest. “There’s no way I can control this girl.” I’m beyond pissed, and it’s reflecting in my tone.

“I know how you feel, Ryder.”

I scowl into the phone, not appreciating the amusement in his voice.

“But you need to do this. It’s not up for discussion,” he adds. “By the way, how is your recovery going?”

“Fine,” I say, gritting my teeth. Every day I feel a little more like my old self, and the pain is significantly better. Not that I’ll tell him that.

“Good. I’m going to organize you an appointment with a specialist over there, okay?”