Chapter 16: Mark His Territory

Gianna’s POV

Jaxson looked down at Ryker’s iron grip on his wrist. His face turned a dangerous shade of red, but he saw the dark fury in Ryker’s gray eyes. Ryker looked ready to start a stadium brawl right there on the white carpet.

Jaxson slowly pulled his hand back, trying to act cool.

"Just a joke, Barrett," Jaxson muttered, taking a step away. "See you on the ice next Friday."

Jaxson disappeared into the crowded ballroom, but Ryker didn't relax. His chest was still rising and falling fast, his shoulders tense under his black tuxedo.

He turned around to face me. His eyes swept over my bare shoulders and down the green silk of my dress.

"Come with me," Ryker muttered softly.

He grabbed my hand and didn't even wait for my answer, before pulling me through the crowd of donors and coaches, straight toward the center of the ballroom where couples were slow dancing under the massive crystal chandeliers.

"Ryker, what are you doing?" I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "People are watching."

"Exactly," he said, turning around to face me on the dance floor. "We are supposed to be a couple, Cole. Let's give them something to look at so they gets the message."

He pulled me flush against his body.

My breath hitched instantly as one of his large hands settled firmly on my bare lower back, pressing against my skin. His other hand held mine tightly against his chest. But because I was wearing high heels, my face was level with his chin. I could smell his expensive cedar wood cologne mixed with the heat of his skin.

I placed my free hand on his broad shoulder, feeling the hard, thick muscle underneath his suit.

"You're holding me too close," I murmured, my voice shaking just a tiny bit. "The contract says—"

"Forget the contract for five minutes," Ryker interrupted, his voice low and calm. He stepped into tune with the music, moving us smoothly across the floor.

He didn't look at the crowd, and his eyes were locked on my lips, before looking up to meet my gaze. "You look beautiful tonight, Cole. It's driving me crazy."

Hearing his rough whisper made a sudden spark of heat shoot straight through my middle.

"You're supposed to be playing a part, Barrett," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though my body felt like it was melting against his chest.

"I am playing the part," he said, his hand sliding slightly lower on my back, pulling me even tighter against his thighs as we moved. "But when another guy touches what belongs to me, I don't play nice. On or off the ice."

The heat between us was thick and suffocating. Every time our bodies brushed together, the tension seemed to grow stronger.

I forgot about Coach Moreau, I forgot about the reporters. All I could feel was Ryker’s heavy pulse against my hand and the burning touch of his palm on my skin.

Suddenly, a loud voice over the microphone cut through the music.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our university athletic director for the mid-season toast!"

The music stopped, and the crowd began to clap. Ryker didn't let go of me immediately. He stayed frozen for a second, his gray eyes searching my face, his breath warm against my cheek. Slowly, reluctantly, his hand slid off my bare back.

The cold air hit my skin, making me shiver instantly.

"Stay right next to me," Ryker murmured, his voice deepening as he cleared his throat and looked toward the stage.

"We're not done talking about this."