Chaos & Love, page 15
part #1 of Blood and Iron Warriors Series
I’m already on social media, so when they discuss his growing popularity online, I look him up. Apparently in three games, Tyler’s developed a fan club. His followers are using my hashtags…everywhere. But not just his game, it’s him. And I get it. Because, even dirty and grimy on TV, he looks like a movie star.
“Have you seen this?”
I hold up a rather graphic string of posts under a new hashtag the female fans are using. The guys just shrug, but Tate pops a chip and laughs.
“Ha ha, yeah. My teammates are Blackmanions, or whatever they call themselves.”
“This is so degrading. The shit they’re saying.” Some of the posts are disgusting.
“What! Why, it’s true? Hottie’s, well…hot,” she teases, throwing a pillow at me and finishing her beer.
“What about me?” The hot look Tegs gives her could burn a house down.
Tate’s voice drops seductively. “I don’t think you can handle me.”
She’s serious. I think she’s a man-eater, but the dark light that takes over his face says her warning turns him on.
“I can.” His hand beckons. “Come ’ere.”
I’m stunned when she gets up, walks over, and sits on his lap. The way they shift, faces inches away from one another, is hot. They’re absorbed immediately in each other and she doesn’t move when the game restarts.
Damn.
We’re ahead by two on our last possession, when a throw to Lark, our other wide receiver, is intercepted on the fifteen and the home team fans roar. It’s devastating. The safety that picked it off sprints, and looks free and clear. My heart drops. There isn’t any way to save this…Until we realize someone is running him down.
“Cyborg! Fucking get him, man!” screams Tegs, jumping to his feet, unseating Tate as everyone sees what Tegs sees.
He was nowhere near this play, but by the fifty, he’s catching up, a locomotive gaining speed, and at the thirty-five…
He. Crushes. Him!
It’s pandemonium in my room; the guys are losing their minds, and I’m on my feet with my heart in my throat.
Linebackers everywhere pray for a hit like that their entire career and Tyler just laid this guy out on national television.
I can’t hear in my room and the entire dorm is exploding through the walls. There’s screaming through my window and on the television, while the broadcasters try to be heard over the stadium eruption.
When Tyler pops up, he stands and pulls his crushed opponent from the ground, shaking him to make sure he’s okay, then looks around at the screaming masses.
He’s every bit the gladiator of the stadium as his team reaches him, helmets crashing into him. His body disappears within a pile of Blood-and-Iron jerseys.
As he walks off the field, he flips off his helmet and absorbs the sound of the crowd. He’s not only made big catches, but he just made the defensive play of the game, and he looks so fierce my body shudders.
I send out the thoughts to the world.
#CyborgLives
#MoreMachineThanMan
#StadiumGod
The last play is anti-climactic. Our defense holds. We win by three but wouldn’t have without the machine that is Tyler “Cyborg” Blackman. And everyone knows it. When we walk to eat, the entire campus is celebrating the tackle heard ’round the conference.
Wanting him to know I’m proud of him, I send a pic of the group in celebration, people around us holding up his number on paper and screens. I’m so happy when he hits me back right away. He’s excited, because he gets to do media this time, and freshmen don’t really do media.
In the cafeteria, all anyone wants to see is Tyler. While the coaches tap dance, trying to explain how he wasn’t recruited but is a vital part of the team, calls for him to talk raise up around the room. Then he’s on screen.
He smirks when asked how he’s feeling.
“As a wide receiver, I get hit. A lot.” Everyone in the room laughs good-naturedly with him as he chuckles, before he pauses and bites his lip, a cocky head nodding. “It was nice to return the favor for a change.”
It’s funny and charming, but there’s a lingering message. Dylan, Garret, and Randy are sitting at the table, and each give a nod, then shake his hand.
The press doesn’t catch the underlying tension, laughing with him, loving him. He’s brilliant, funny, and by the time the press conference is over, he’s trending and owning the channel.
And I miss him.
Chapter Twenty
Tyler Blackman
“Wakey wakey, fucker!”
Shit.
The team’s offloading from the plane and it’s still dark out when we load the bus back to campus. I’m looking forward to getting back. Coach has given us Monday off, which is good because we need a break.
I’m in the clear, even after punching Bay. I shouldn’t be, but my performance is giving me perks. Fair or not, we get shit handed to us when we deliver. And I’m delivering. Coach acknowledged they shouldn’t have been taking the shots they were and he should have stopped it, so he let me off.
Tension with my teammates has eased some, but they’re being careful around me.
Good.
After today, everyone knows. I’ll take the hit, but I hit back.
Dad knows something is up, but since he was okay with my performance and my grades for the week came in solid, he didn’t have anything to complain about.
Truth? His call was swept away by the win. I’m still riding high off the game, feeling the vibration from the crowd. It was that intense. As usual, I wanted to either hit someone or fuck when I came off the field, and I’ve only slept off part of that energy.
We’ve been busy with the media, which energized the team and me. Offloading in the middle of the night, I don’t need to hit anyone, but I really want to fuck.
I really want Rayne.
Me: I want 2cu
It takes a bit for her response. I know her, she’s in bed.
Rayne: are u back
Me: can I come over
Rayne: Yes
When she opens the door, her boy shorts show off her high, tight ass, making me want to bite it. Her skintight tank dips low, giving me a peek at my mark and I want.
Bending down, her lips part, and she tastes of mint and sleep. Her soft sigh into my kiss as I lick and explore, makes me hard and impatient. Reaching behind her thighs, I lift, wrapping her legs around me as I walk us into her room, kicking her door shut. Even with all my damn bruises and aches, she’s a balm extending my invincibility.
“I need this shit off you.”
I’ve got her tank off and I’m pulling her bottoms off in a flash when she hesitates.
“This can’t be a booty call, Tyler.” Her hands are on mine. Her voice is soft, but her brows are pinched. “We aren’t there and I’m not your game prize.”
It’s a slap in the face, because I didn’t think of it like that. It makes me rock back and just stare at her.
How can she fucking think that?
But as the moments tick by and I struggle to figure out what to say, she looks more and more upset, and I’m aware how badly I’ve fucked up when her legs drop and she steps away, going to grab a T-shirt from her drawer.
“What are you doing?”
This is not going how I planned.
“Why are you here?” she asks, her back to me.
“Why? I wanted to see you!”
“Really?” She turns, eyes stormy and hurt, the last thing I want. “Feels like you wanted a quick fuck.” Her eyes close and I. Fucking. Hate. It!
It sucks.
I didn’t just want to fuck, but she’s not totally wrong. How do I say that without sounding like an ass? But she stuns me before I can say anything.
“I’m a virgin, Tyler,” she confesses on an exhale.
“What?” I choke, lost for a moment. She didn’t act like a virgin. But then, she did…The idea makes me feel bigger and…Something…
“I’m not a prize for winning, or a booty call, or what—” She sounds scared and unsure and she shouldn’t be any of those things.
You’re mine.
“You aren’t a prize, a booty call, or anything else.”
Her eyes plead with me, as if I’ll rip her apart, and I’m on her in a second. It’s the last thing I’m going to do. Her cheek is so soft under my fingers, I’m reminded how delicate she is.
“We’ve discussed this. I missed you.” I drop a light kiss, gentle, to keep her with me, keep her lips pliant against mine. “I want you because I missed you. I want you, because I always want you.”
I kiss her a little harder. My fingers stroke her neck and shoulder, caressing my mark, my brand, dark and primitive, marking her skin. I press down on it and pull her closer.
“I’m not sure if you being a virgin makes me want you more or scares me, but nothing happens until you’re ready. Okay?” I drop my face into her neck and inhale the way she smells. Her body shudders when my lips brush her lobe. “Okay? But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to touch you, taste you, see your lips on me. And I know you’re not afraid of that.”
Her answer comes with nails in my skin and tongue and teeth on my chest. Fuck if she doesn’t make me groan out her name. We’re skin on skin when we fall asleep.
• • • •
“Seriously! My fucking pickle!” Rayne reaches for the stolen food as it disappears into Bay’s face.
“Nah, you didn’t really want it.”
“Asshat!” Her slap is a loud smack everyone can hear.
“You weren’t eating it!” He laughs at her.
I don’t know if I should smack him for her or laugh.
“I just sat down!”
I hand her my fruit cup, shaking my head. She smiles at me, then growls at Bay. It’s cute as hell.
“Food thief! We are going to have a long discussion about food protocol. You’re so great in just about every other area.”
“Just about? I’d say every other area.” He grins at her and flexes his bicep.
“Yeah, about that.” Her nose wrinkles at Bay, then turns on me. “Why’d I have to hear about you hitting Bay from everyone else? Don’t you think you two should’ve been the ones to mention it?”
I choke.
Should’ve seen that coming.
Asshole doesn’t even wait until I can breathe. “You just choked on chicken. Do you know how much mileage I’m gonna get out of that? Chokin’ his chicken…”
“No, you won’t. Besides, he hasn’t answered. I’d like an answer.” Her hands wave at the bruise still visible on his face, indicating he should shut up.
A subtle cough and I heave. “Yeah, I should have told you. He cares about you and was worried.”
I need to deflect this whole conversation. She doesn’t need to be involved in what happens in the locker room and I’m not discussing my raging desire to demolish my whole team. They’re being respectful, and I’m doing my job without killing anyone. For now.
“Doesn’t matter, I’m not asking why. I can guess stupid shit is why. You two should’ve mentioned it. Everyone else did.” Blue eyes harden with irritation.
Shit, I didn’t think about other people talking.
“Sorry, Rayne.” Bay’s big sigh sounds guilty.
Good, you should feel guilty.
“The whole thing was stupid and I…The team and I, we apologized to Ty. No need to worry. Promise,” he says. When he finally looks at me, I can’t read him. He hasn’t said or done anything out of line since I smashed him, but I know where his loyalties lie, and it’s not with me.
“We’re fine, baby. Panties untwisted team-wide.” My voice is level while I assess Bay.
“Okay. But if it’s something about me, I get to know,” she says, squinting at both of us.
I kiss her forehead and nod. “Fair enough.”
But we’ll be keeping the team shit with the team, even when it’s about her.
• • • •
Even with midterms making everyone hit the books, Wyatt is flipping the board outside our room most days. It leaves me locked out of my room and at the library with crazed students packing the stacks, and I’m mad I’m here instead of with Rayne.
I want to get my shit and get out. I have more things to do tonight before I hit up my girl again.
When I’m nearly done, long nails drag up my abs. It would be sexy as hell, but they’re the wrong nails.
“Where you been, Cyborg?” Shay hums.
“Around. How are you?” I pull her hands off.
I’m not normally rude and I don’t want to start now, but she’s on me in a beat when I turn around. This was our normal approach, no question, but she isn’t who I want.
“Good. But I haven’t been taken care of lately. You up for a round?” She gazes up through long lashes and grabs my dick.
Stepping back, I shake my head at her. I know what she wants, what she expects, what Dad wants, and there’s no fucking way. Not anymore.
“Sorry. Not today. I got places to be and studying to do. You need to find someone else to help with that. My schedule’s booked.”
Her pout is sexy, but not enough to change my mind or compete with Rayne.
“You’ve been hanging out with the friend from the party, Ty.” Her annoyance is clear as she flips her hair over her shoulder. “So, what’s your deal, are you off the market now?”
Stepping back, I nod, laughing. She’s jealous. It’s funny.
“I’m doing what I want. You should try it, Shay.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Rayne Mathews
I’m sitting at Dixon’s reception desk reviewing notes for tonight’s study session. I haven’t seen much of Tyler since Sunday, but we talk on the phone every night before we pass out.
His parents are coming to the game this weekend. I’d have thought he’d be happy, but his dad makes him tense…Thoughts of him tense, turn into him hard, and into him hard above me.
So fucking hot.
I don’t hear when the door opens.
“You look happy.” Shay’s walking through the doors as she snipes at me.
Most of the cheerleaders are great, like Brent’s girlfriend, but Shay’s hatred is like bad perfume: overpowering, cloying, and it seems to stick around. The girl is pretty, but she’s nasty and bleeds green every time she sees me.
“I am. What can I do for you?” I don’t like her and I won’t pretend to. Considering how nasty the people were during high school, she’ll have to up her bitch-game if she wants to make an impact.
“You can tell me what you think you have going on with Cyborg?”
“If you have a question about Tyler, ask Tyler.”
“Listen, he’s not serious about you.” Red nails tap on the counter as her green eyes flick over me with disgust. “That boy is a star, he wants to play.”
Desperate much?
“If you feel that strongly about it, take it up with him. I’m sure he’ll listen closely.” I wave my hand at her. “You know how to scan in.”
“He doesn’t belong to you,” she spits at me.
Laughter bursts out before I can stop it. “Maybe not. But he definitely isn’t yours, or you wouldn’t be here trying to get rid of me. Now run away,” I almost sing at her, flicking with my fingertips.
Her envy is palpable. “I know his dick and it likes me. Pretend all you want that you have what it takes to keep him entertained. You don’t. He’ll need a little fire soon!”
Bitch! Fire, really?
I’m well aware he’s fucked her, and while it doesn’t make me super happy, it says something terrible about her that she’s trying to use it to hurt me. Or worse, hurt him. I won’t be chased away by a fucking jersey-chaser who specializes in slip-and-slide drive-bys.
“If you’re so great, you wouldn’t need to say so. Your fire crotch isn’t a golden snatch…Now run the fuck along.” My hard stare meets her fiery one and she breaks first. I flip her off as a goodbye. I can’t believe her.
Grabbing my phone, I release my angst, anger, and jealousy with my fingertips rather than grabbing the bitch’s red hair and beating her blue.
#hotboyproblems #stupidblackmanions
Me: I hate ur manions. and fire crotch sucks!
It only takes a couple minutes.
Tyler: Did u really just say fire crotch…too nasty 4 u. who pissed in ur cheerios?
Me: UR fav skanky hoover
Tyler: Srly! What about?
Me: U, asshole!
Tyler: LOL!
Me: Not funny. She started shit at work.
Tyler: ok not as funny, but she isn’t an ex or anything
Me: she doesn’t think she’s the past either
Tyler: oh
Me: OH?
Tyler: she was never anything, sorry she upset u…
Tyler: Fire crotch?! HOOVER!!!! OTFLMFAO
Such a dick.
Me: Not funny!
Tyler: It’s way funny. You’re meaner than I am
Tyler: I’ve never thought about calling any1 that. #meangirl
Me: FU I hate your groupies! I’m creating another hashtag
Me: #stupidblackmanions #machineswithnodicks
Tyler: Yeah…I luv that I have groupies. but I’m kissing u & you’ll luv my dick
Don’t I know it.
Tyler: Can I stay 2night? Miss u.
Me: miss u 2. C u for group. Hope u stay.
Tyler: 3:) I’ll lick u and make it better
I’m hot and bothered again.
A week and a half and he doesn’t even have to try. He makes me feel strong and free to want what I want. I even went and got on the pill yesterday because I know I want him. Condoms—yes. Backup—yes. I’m owning what I want, stupid Blackmanions or not.
My phone vibrates and I hope it’s him. I cringe when Emily’s number pops up.
