Page 21 of Jerk
Hate.
Coach looks at me with confusion, but right now, he’s just a pawn.
“What are we apologizing for, Rye?” I ask, batting my falsies.
“Hannah,” he warns.
“Oh, right,” I fake a laugh, moving into the office. “Is it the time you had sex with Coach Winslow's wife at the Emerald Hotel? Or the time on the Sun House rooftop?”
“Coach, give us a moment, please,” Rye says, but Coach’s face is already deep red, gripping his pen so hard he might break it.
Not before I breakhim.“Oh, it’s for the time in your office, isn’t it?”
That gets Rye on his feet.
“Enough!” Coach is next to stand, looking between us.
“Excuse Hannah, she's having a mental break,” Rye says, calm and collected. But I don't miss his knuckles whitening as he grips the leather chair.
“Sorry, Coach, I’m just not used to seeing Ryung off your wife.”
Coach slams his clipboard on the table. “I want you both out of my office by the time I’m back.”
“Coach, wait.” Rye chases him to the door while I relish in his desperation.
“For what?” I ask, pushing the knife in. “Haven't you humiliated him enough? Or did you miss the headlines?”
Coach slams the door behind him, leaving us both in the quiet room.
My laughter breaks the silence.
“Oh, you think this is fucking funny.” Rye turns to me, standing by the door with his chest heaving. His black shirt sticks to his muscles, flexed as he glares. “You’re amused?”
So I square up with him. Because fuck him. “What? You thought you could take my dream internship and I’d let you get away with it?” Hoisting myself up on Coach’s desk, I soak up his anger. “Don’t fuck with me again,Rowen.”
“I’ll do with you as I please.” He moves towards me, passing a duffel bag on the sofa. “Let’s make that clear.” He looks at me like he did that night, those eyes sucking me into his darkness as he reaches into the bag.
“Why can’t you take the loss? This ismykingdom. You failed at ruling it. And getting your sister to run the show because you can’t? Desperate. Just like how you werebeggingfor the Coach to—” A gasp escapes me, cutting off my words. I don’t realize Rye is in front of me until the edge of a hockey skate lands against my neck.
“Not laughing now, are you, Hannah?” My eyes drop to the blade shining under the office lights. He chuckles, the coldness of the blade making goosebumps rise to my skin. “There she is.” He dips his head, his lips coming to my ear. “I’m learning what gets to you, Kitten.”
“You don’t threaten me.” He drags the blade down to my collar, my body stiffening.
“Liar.” His words land harshly against my ear.
“Youfeel threatened.” I hate the way my words come out. Shaky. Unconfident. But it’s tough when he’s pinning me between his hard muscles and this desk with that blade to my throat. “You feel weak, and that’s because of me.”
“Funny.” I shriek when he grabs my hair, spinning me around in one quick swoop so my back lands hard against his chest. The blade returns to my neck. “I don’t feel weak. Not when I can feel your heartbeat on my fucking chest.” He pulls my hair harder, forcing a hiss out of my mouth. “Do I feel weak to you, Hannah?”
He moves the blade lightly against my collar, enough to kiss the skin. It reminds me of where he used that shard, and it makes my legs buckle enough that I fall against him.
Ember’s voice is loud in my head.
“Leave Ryung alone!”
“Coach is coming back," I remind him, but he ignores me, trailing that blade lower and lower. My back arches just a little when the blade lands between my breasts. Then my body betrays me, my nipples hardening when he drags the blade over them. My ragged voice betrays me, too. “Rye…”
“You think you’re more powerful than I am?” The hum of the lights becomes inaudible, and all I hear is him. “Show me.” He pulls the skate down to where the hem of the jersey meets my thighs. Using the tip, he pulls up the fabric until my pink panties and bra are on display. “What’s the matter, Kitten?” I’m frozen in place with the way he moves that blade, like in any second he can scar my skin. Make me bleed. He uses the tip to push down the fabric of my bra, exposing my nipple to the cold air. That’s when I realize how much they ache. “Can’t play with lions? You meet your match?”
