“Not really,” Elowen says. “I had Asher to get me through back then.”
“Oh,” I say. “I’m sorry. I guess I figured you must have done that with your parents like I did. You seemed really into it.”
“I don’t have parents,” she murmurs, staring at the TV. “I used to read, but this is an even better escape.”
I feel a little guilty getting her into this kind of trivial, mind-numbing show, but hey, everyone needs a way to cope. “I’m sorry about your parents,” I say, sitting down beside her on the bed and getting comfy on the pillows. “I guess you know I don’t have a mom. Everyone knows what happened to her, right?”
“Yeah,” Elowen says dully. “Mine were caught in a flood on their way home one night. They both drowned.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “How old were you?”
“Ten,” she says. “I was in foster care after that.”
Sadly, those kinds of stories aren’t unusual around here. I knew Elowen hadn’t had a privileged life, but I feel bad having gone through a whole year without knowing about one of my best friends’ family. It kinda explains her attachment to Asher and her fear of him abandoning her. Maybe I’ve been too hard on her. But then, she’ll have to find her feet at some point.
I only hope I can be there to see her blossom into a stronger version of the Elowen I know is in there somewhere.
*
The rest of the weekend passes uneventfully, and Monday morning rolls around bright and early. I look at my schedule and swear under my breath when I remember my first class of the week.
Ryker Steele is the acting professor. What a way to set the tone for the week. Ryker’s teaching Advanced Swordsmanship, which is no surprise since he’s the best there is. Still, I haven’t seen him much since I started sophomore year, and I’m a little… Nervous. Ryker and I have an intense connection because I saved his life with magic, somehow binding us in a way that’s deeper than I understand—or like.
Cleo suddenly vibrates on my waist, as if irritated by my remark. I take her into my hand, surprised as she shifts into a sword in my hand. “Someone’s ready to roll,” I mutter, pleased by her excitement.
She pulses in my hand, flashing a bit of magic.
“Alright, alright,” I say as I round the corner. We practiced plenty this summer, and I’m ready for whatever Ryker dishes out. I smile and hold Cleo proudly, like the treasure she is. “Come on, partner. Let’s impress the bastard.”
“You’re late,” Ryker snaps as I walk into class.
I look around the room, finding four other people in there. “I think I’m on time,” I point out. “Unless everyone else is late, too.”
Ryker just glares at me, arms crossed over his chest. “This is everyone else.”
“What? What happened to everyone who was in class last year?”
“Seems no one else passed last year,” Ryker says, as if he’s not the one responsible for making them all repeat their intermediate level. “Somehow, you managed to squeak by.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes as I take my place next to another guy. Just as Ryker decided everyone else would repeat the class, he decided I wouldn’t. Interesting.
Not that it means anything. It definitely doesn’t. Ryker and I have had a few steamy moments together, but there was an agreement that it meant nothing, that it was just about regulating my magic. If he cared about me, he would have shown it by now.
“I’m not going to hold your hands through this class,” Ryker snaps. “So, we’re not going to waste any time with orientation or discussion. Pair up and get to work with your weapons.”
We all move toward the sparring mats, everyone’s weapons coming out in a shimmering display. Cleo is already out in my hand, and I get ready to step onto the mat across from a guy I sparred with a few times last year. Just as I step up, Ryker cuts off the other guy, pointing him to a girl on the next mat. “Jane needs a partner,” he says, rudely dismissing the guy with barely a glance.
Damn it.
Of course he’s going to be a dick. Expecting otherwise is like expecting a lion to have turned to a kitten over the summer.
I sigh and lower Cleo. “Can we not start the year like this?”
Ryker’s sword slides smoothly out of its scabbard. “Raise your weapon, Jade.”
His voice is like ice, sending a shudder down my spine. But I remember the other shivers he’s sent through me, the ones I felt after the toe-curling orgasm he gave me in the shower last year. Shaking the thought away, I raise Cleo upright just in time. Ryker lunges. His sword clangs against mine with such force that I stagger off balance. Ryker doesn’t miss the chance to sweep me off my feet and onto my ass.
“Get up,” he says coolly.
I let out an exasperated sigh and push myself back onto my feet, only for him to lunge forward once more. This time I’m ready, swinging Cleo in an upright arc and using the momentum to gain some ground. Ryker steps back, put on the defensive as I keep striking, sparks flying between us. A flicker of triumph starts in my chest as Cleo glows in my hand. Maybe I can actually do this.
Ryker ducks underneath my swing and checks me with his shoulder, sending me gasping to the ground.
“Get up,” he hisses.
Again, I roll onto my knees, trying my best to catch my breath. As Ryker glowers over me, I dart forward, using the flat of my blade to catch him against the ankle. He stumbles away, and I lunge forward again, Cleo turned to a point in an attempt to stab deep into his shoulder. She just gets a scratch as his sword swipes mine away, sending us both standing and panting on either side of the mat. I catch a few of the students glancing over at us, a mixture of concern and confusion on their faces, only to quickly return to work when Ryker shoots them a glare.
I strike, dipping out of the way of his attack instead of going straight for a hit. I spin on my heel, catching him in the back and once more using the momentum to get away from his counter. His sword smacks hard into the mat, giving me a chance to leap forward and go for another attack.
And then he pulls his head back and slams it against mine.
I crash to the ground, Cleo clattering across the floor as she transforms back into a spork. My head’s pounding, the room spinning like mad as I hear a distorted version of Ryker’s voice.
“Get up, Jade.”
Maybe if I just play dead on the ground, he’ll leave me alone.
“Every minute you’re not working is another minute I keep you after,” he warns.
Hell no. I have a full day ahead of me, and I’m not going to get behind in my other classes because Ryker has a grudge against me. I roll onto my stomach and grab Cleo, who transforms back into a sword the second my fingers touch her hilt.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I say to Ryker. “Let’s do this.”
And we do.
All. Freaking. Day.
That’s how long we keep doing it. That asshole keeps me hours after class. It’s time for lunch and I’ve made out with the floor more times than I have with anyone in my life by the time I’m forced to admit that if I get up again, I’ll just get another beatdown.
“You know,” I hiss as I stand up for the umpteenth time. “If you wanted me dead, you could’ve just paired me with someone who’s fine with a touch of murder.”
“If anyone tried, I’d fucking kill them,” he growls, glowering at me. Sweat is trickling down his face, and fuck if it doesn’t make him even hotter. “I’ll kill anyone who hurts you, Jade.”
I pause, too surprised to react for a second. “Oh, so you’re the only one who gets to torture me?”
“Damn right,” he snaps. He’s pulled off his blazer and his dress shirt, and now he’s wearing just an undershirt which clings to his tattooed, muscular torso in a way that makes me need to squeeze my thighs together if I look at it too hard.
“You’re impossible,” I shoot back, tearing my eyes from the sweat glistening on his sculpted shoulders.
“I make you work, Cupcake,” he s
ays with a smirk, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. Fuck. A little magic is shimmering around me, which means he might as well know what I’m thinking. He knows the sight of him is making me hot, anyway.
“Everyone else works,” I say, panting through my words as we circle each other. “This is more than work. It’s punishment.”
“Your magic is stronger than anyone else’s,” he says. “You have to work harder because your magic is more desirable, and you have to protect that.”
“Desirable?” I ask with a snort. “You hate me because of my magic.”
We stare at each other over our swords for a minute. Suddenly, he drops his sword, closes the distance between us in one stride, and wraps his arm around my waist as his mouth crashes down on mine. Salty sweat intermingles between us, sending a spark of life throughout my body. I make a startled sound of protest, but it’s swallowed by our kiss. The next second, I’m kissing him back, my fingers clawing against his face, leaving red marks along his cheek.
Ryker growls and rocks his hips against mine, and a shudder of pure lust grips me when I feel the massive, thick ridge of his cock against me. I catch his legs with mine, both of us tumbling to the floor with me on top. We continue exploring each other, his hand roughly trailing along my spine as I tear my fingers through his hair, frantically thrusting my tongue into his mouth. He yanks my legs apart so I’m straddling him, then throws the back of my skirt up, pulls my underwear aside, and buries a long finger deep inside me. He moans into the kiss, a shudder wracking his body as his finger slides out and pumps back into my tight opening.
I can feel the energy building in me, power physically flowing out from my glistening skin as it envelops us both. Ryker drives a second finger into me, thrusting in rhythm with his tongue. I moan and arch my back, spreading my thighs wider. He reaches down, kneading my ass with one hand while he works a third finger into my pussy, straining against my tight opening. When he pushes them in, I gasp, the stretch almost painful but deliciously pleasurable, too.
“Oh, god,” I gasp against his lips.
“Just wait for my cock,” he says through labored breaths. “I’m going to make you scream like you’ve never screamed before.”
He dives back in, pushing my chin up and kissing my neck roughly, biting at my skin.
“Do you care about me?” I ask, my own breathing coming hard and fast.
Ryker just pulls my mouth down to his, kissing me furiously until I feel his teeth sink into my lip.
“Wait,” I gasp, pulling away as salt and a metallic tang fills my mouth. “Ryker, I’m serious.”
I search his eyes, needing more this time. Every time we’ve done this, it’s been like this, desperate and passionate and fueled by anger and lust. But it’s more than that now, at least for me.
Ryker’s expression turns hard, and whatever passion was in his eyes disappears. “You’re asking me that now, while I’m knuckle-deep in your cunt?”
I take a moment to struggle off his fingers and adjust my skirt, swallowing his taste in my mouth before speaking. “In the car right before school let out for summer, I told you I cared about you. That I want to be with you.”
“You said that to everyone.”
“And I meant it,” I say, rolling off him and sitting up. “I don’t want this only when we’re pissed off, Ryker. I care about you, though you make it almost impossible. If we’re going to do this… I want it to mean something.”
Ryker lets out a snort of disbelief before swiping his sword off the floor and standing. “I don’t need another distraction,” he says curtly, standing over me and like I’m a worm. “You’re a nice reprieve, I’ll give you that. But don’t mistake that for an emotional connection.”
Suddenly a whip sings through the air and slices across his cheek. He recoils, staggering back from me. For a second, I don’t move, unable to believe what just happened. Ryker stares at me, blood trickling down his face. The whip sings through the air again, but instead of striking, this time the handle smacks into my palm. The whip does a lazy coil in the air, showing off a shimmer of magic before settling into spork form. Fuck. Cleo just smacked this asshole on my behalf.
Ryker lifts a hand to check the wound, then stares at the blood as I scramble to my feet, my heart racing.
He’s going to kill me.
Before Ryker can think up a new, sadistic punishment, I head for the door. “Think about that the next time you want to be a dick,” I yell over my shoulder before shoving out into the bright September sunshine.
“Holy shit, girl,” I mutter to Cleo. “You just took on a life of your own.”
In answer, she vibrates giddily in my palm.
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth when I replay the look of utter shock on Ryker’s face. “Thanks for having my back,” I whisper. “And damn. Remind me never to piss you off.”
I try to cool down with a walk around campus, but damn it, Ryker’s smug face keeps sending my blood boiling. Even after everything we went through last year—him stepping in front of a blade for me, me saving him by dragging him back from the spirit world—he’s still a complete and total asshole. He must get off on playing these mind games with me.
“I wish I could fire him,” I hiss under my breath. “Why the hell would the Academy want an asshole like that teaching its classes, let alone standing by to do guard duty for me if anything goes wrong? He’ll probably kill me himself.”
He’s here because he’s an excellent swordsman and utterly terrifying, my mind retorts. Anyone dumb enough to mess with me knows they made a mistake the moment Ryker shows up. Proof is in the memory of him holding Silas by the throat until the slimy old wizard literally pissed himself. Then, of course, there’s that minor point that I still somehow like him, impossible as that seems. I could ask Professor Darius to take him off my guard, and he’d probably agree, but the truth is, I don’t want more distance between us. When he’s on guard duty, it’s the only time I really see him besides when he’s torturing me in class.
I have no good solution besides letting him go. But when I think of that look in his eyes when he lets me see beyond his walls—the one that slipped when I saw the scars on his body—and the feigned indifference when he keeps himself separate from the group as if scared of not guarding his heart so intently that no one gets close… I know Rocco’s right. He needs me. Or, he needs someone who can make him feel, make him let down his guard and love, at least.
It doesn’t have to be me, I remind myself.
But even I don’t believe that. It is me.
Chapter Nine
“Wait up, Cinderella,” Rocco calls, jogging to join me. “Where you been? I missed you at lunch.”
Crap. It’s past lunchtime now, and I didn’t eat, and all I can do is stew about his damn brother.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing his hand and marching back toward the dorm.
“What’s going on?” he asks, his tone lighthearted. But I know Rocco better now, just like I know Ryker has a heart somewhere stuffed up his ass. I can hear the concern in my jokester bodyguard’s voice, but I’m not looking for pity right now. I need a good fuck to get this out of my head.
“No time for talking,” I say, dragging him through the door of my dorm. We head upstairs, and Rocco gives me an arrogant grin as we reach the top of the stairs.
“Well, damn,” he says. “Good to know I’m so irresistible.”
“What’d I say about talking?” I ask, grabbing his shirt and pulling it untucked. I slide my hands under the back of it, over his glorious mountains of muscles, while I step in and press my body to his, leaning up to kiss him.
See, I’m feeling better already. If Ryker wants to play games, get me all worked up, and not finish the job, then fine. I don’t need him. His brother is more than happy to fulfill my needs.
Rocco’s hands are immediately around my waist, his grip gentler than his brother’s, cradling me in a way that’s both tender and possessive. His kiss says all I need to know
. He’s here for me, and he likes me. No games. A new spark erupts into a fire across my body as his tongue slides between my lips, one fueled by my rage toward Ryker and the passion Rocco’s giving me here and now. We pull away just long enough to catch our breath, the door to my room magically opening as my guard carries me inside, all the while kissing up and down my neck.
I work my hands around the back of his neck, magic surging across my skin and intermingling with his. My lips press against his, tongue sliding into his mouth before my teeth bite against his lip. Rocco flinches as blood sweeps over our tongues. He lays me across the bed before pulling away.
“Damn, Cinderella,” he says. “You want to play rough today, don’t you?”
“Fuck me hard,” I demand. I barely get the words out before he’s back on top of me. His massive body crushes down on mine, but somehow, it feels like it’s keeping me grounded as well as overpowering me.
“Oh, I’m gonna,” he growls. He grips both my wrists in one hand and pulls them over my head. Each kiss sends pleasurable shivers throughout my body, pooling in the center of my being as his hand roughly yanks my thighs open. He sinks a finger into me where Ryker’s was just an hour ago.
“Fuck me now,” I say, running my nails down his back.
“Who got you all worked up, Cinderella?” he asks, his voice breathy and teasing as he slips another finger into me, stretching me open and sending pleasure rippling through me. “Was it my brother, or that secret lover of yours? Because one of those thoughts makes me hot, and the other pisses me off, and either way you’re going to get it hard today.”
A shudder of anticipation grips me at his words, and I lift my hips, letting his fingers fuck me harder. A surge of power builds inside me, and I catch Rocco around the waist with my legs and turn the tables, putting me on top of him.
“Well, well,” Rocco chuckles, rocking his hips up against mine. “Kitty’s got a new set of claws.”
“Less talk.” I go down for more, pressing against him as our mouths meet again. He feels right underneath me, like a puzzle piece that fits exactly into me. As much as my heart sings for Darius, Rocco has something special he doesn’t possess. Rocco gives me everything I need willingly, happily, readily. And I take it.
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