Chapter 24
twenty-four
RYAN
After drinking too many shots, there’s still an elimination ceremony.
We make it through the beginning pretty quickly with Raven, Divya, and Nikki.
Nikki is sobbing and JacqLyn is clearly plastered.
I am trying to keep my face blank while handing out roses like I’m emotionally available and not falling apart inside.
Being tipsy while I supposedly make life-altering decisions isn’t really sitting well with me.
Wren is near the back of the crowd. Her chin is up, her shoulders are squared, but I can tell she’s tense. Her eyes keep flicking toward me like she’s looking for something and then looking off into the distance. I hand her a rose second to last.
She grips the stem so hard that it breaks on the way back to her spot. She stumbles slightly, her heel catching on the uneven tile. I move without even thinking about it. One step forward and my hand is on her elbow, steadying her.
She looks up at me, surprised. “Thanks.”
I swallow. “Of course.”
My hand lingers a half second too long. She peers up at me, her breath catching. Then I force myself to move away. The cameramen circle us, catching every moment. I taste bile at the back of my throat.
She used to blend in so much I’d forget she was even there. Now I can’t stop tracking her. Every damn move.
I end up sending Letitia home. Not anything personal against her. I just… I can tell we don’t mesh together. By the time I’m done, I’m exhausted. Wren doesn’t even meet my gaze as she flees.
I storm back to my room, slamming the door and pressing my palms to my eyes. I’m not sure what happened today. I wonder if the alcohol caused me to be soft toward Wren, that instinct to help her, to touch her in front of everyone.
It’s going to ruin both of us. The cameras are hungry for any sign of me showing even the vaguest interest in any of the girls.
Wren deserves someone better. Someone stable.
Someone who doesn’t have a job where they’re on the road all the time.
Most importantly, someone who doesn’t mind people watching their vulnerable moments.
I get changed out of my clothes that still kind of smell like tequila, then take a shower, chugging a bottle of water while I clean my body. When I get out of the shower, my phone lights up as it lies on my bed. I wrap a towel around my waist and pad over to it, looking down at the screen.
It’s her, of course.
Wanna talk?
I hesitate and then type back.
About what?
I change into a pair of track pants and a fresh T-shirt. Then I see a new text from Wren.
I’m outside. I killed the room cam. Let me in.
My eyebrows fly up. She’s making a big effort and putting herself out there to talk to me in private.
I open my bedroom door and she’s there, wearing her silk sleep shorts and my T-shirt.
Her hair is wet and she smells freshly showered.
She’s not wearing any makeup or any of the crazy punk rock trappings. She gives me a mischievous smile.
Without saying a word, I let her in. Because of course, I do. How could I say no? She strides into my room and flops down onto the couch. I sit beside her and try not to look at her legs, but then I’m caught staring at her mouth.
She tilts her head. “You’ve been weird.”
“I’m always weird,” I grunt.
She pauses for a moment. “You’re being distant. It’s not just me. What’s going on?”
“It just feels like everything changed.” I let out my breath in a long stream. “I’m not particularly good at hiding any of it, so it’s easier to just keep my distance.”
We’re halfway through filming. Halfway to the end. And all I can think about is what happens if she walks away from me at the end of this.
She nods like she understands. “So let’s not make it a big deal. Let’s call it what it is. We’re two people who happen to get along only when we’re naked, that’s all.”
Her tone makes me laugh, which only encourages her.
She scoots closer and drops her head to my shoulder.
I don’t mean to relax at her touch, but it’s hard not to.
I lean back against the couch and inhale a full, deep breath.
Her scent grazes my nose, honey and lemons.
I touch her hair with two fingers, flicking it away from her face.
Wren’s lips part and she looks up at me. Our faces are only inches apart.
“Can I be sweet to you?” she asks. “Just right now. No one can see.”
Has any man ever been so sorely tempted?
My body hardens. I hate the way her words make me feel desperate for her touch.
I clench my jaw, but nod. She wraps her hand around my jaw and presses her lips against my neck, my shoulder, my lips.
I know what we’re doing is wrong. I know Jay will kill me if he ever finds out, but damn if I can stop myself.
I press my lips against hers and deepen the kiss, stroking her tongue with mine. She’s warm and soft and smells like shampoo and bad ideas.
Without thinking, I grab her waist and pull her onto my lap, needing to feel her closer, needing more of her.
“Ryan,” she whispers, her soft voice gone husky.
I capture her mouth with mine, swallowing whatever she was about to say. Her lips are sweet and eager, opening for me like she’s been waiting her whole life for this moment. Maybe she has. The thought makes something tighten in my chest, something possessive and primal.
Her satin sleep shorts slide against my track pants as she settles on my thighs.
The thin material of my t-shirt that she’s wearing does nothing to hide her hardened nipples or the flush spreading across her chest. I can feel the heat between her legs through the fabric of my shorts. It’s driving me insane.
“Fuck, Chirp,” I murmur against her mouth, hands gripping her hips firmly. I guide her against me, setting a rhythm that makes us both gasp. “You feel so good.”
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, holding on tight as I control her movements. I grind her down onto my hardening cock, feeling her wetness seep through both layers of our clothing. The knowledge that I’ve made her this wet, this ready, sends a fresh surge of desire through me.
I pull back just enough to see her face. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen from my kisses. She bites her lower lip, a gesture so innocent and yet so provocative that I have to stifle a groan. Her eyes meet mine, pupils blown wide with desire.
“It’s supposed to be my turn,” she whispers, her breath warm against my face, “to make you feel good.”
Something about her words, about her wanting to please me, makes my cock twitch against her. I thrust upward, pushing against her core.
“You are making me feel good,” I grate out. “So fucking good.”
Her head falls back, exposing the delicate line of her throat.
I take advantage, pressing my lips to her pulse point, feeling it race under my tongue.
My hands stay firmly on her hips, guiding her movements as she rocks against me.
Each thrust brings me closer to the edge.
I realize with a start that I could come just like this, with both of us still mostly clothed.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, lifting her slightly to adjust our position. When I settle her back down, the head of my cock brushes directly against her pussy through our clothes. The contact makes her gasp, her hands tightening on my shoulders.
This girl is making me crazy. I’ve been with women before. Plenty of them. But none have affected me like Wren. None have made me feel like I’m losing my mind with just a look, a touch, a whispered word. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating.
I’m practically dry humping her now, rutting against her like a teenager getting his first taste of action.
I should be embarrassed, but all I feel is desperate need.
I’m ready to come in my shorts like a virgin, but I’m too deep in the moment to be able to control myself any better than this. What has Wren done to me?
She seems to sense my desperation because she tightens her thighs around me and starts to move with more purpose. Her hips roll in a motion that can only be described as sinful, riding me like I’m a bucking bronco she’s determined to tame.
“Ryan,” she moans, her voice breaking on my name. The sound goes straight to my groin, making me harder than I thought possible.
I can’t take it anymore. I need to see her, all of her. With trembling fingers, I grab the hem of her borrowed shirt and pull it upward. She raises her arms, helping me strip it off. The sight of her, braless, flushed, perfect, knocks the breath from my lungs.
Her breasts are smaller than what I usually go for, but they’re perfect for her frame. Perfect for my hands. Perfect, period. The soft pink of her nipples makes my mouth water. I waste no time cupping them, feeling their weight in my palms. They’re so fucking soft.
“So beautiful.” I brush my thumbs over the hardened peaks. She shivers at my touch, arching into my hands.
I pinch one nipple gently, then with more pressure when she responds with a moan. The sound sends a jolt straight to my cock. I pull and twist the soft rosebuds, learning what makes her breath catch, what makes her push harder against my erection.
“I never knew,” she gasps, eyes closed in pleasure. “I never knew it could feel like this.”
Her words remind me that this is all new to her, that I’m the first man to touch her this way, to see her come undone. The thought fills me with equal parts pride and terror. I want to be worthy of this trust she’s placed in me.
“I’m going to make you feel so good, Chirp,” I promise. “So fucking good that you’ll never forget.”
“As if I ever could.” She smiles then, a smile so genuine and trusting that it makes my heart stutter in my chest.
I pull her closer, our skin finally touching. I lose myself in the sweet heat of her mouth once more.