Chapter 21
Ryker
A s we stand in the front yard of the Elite mansion, the cool autumn air whips around us, and I imagine Gwen is freezing due to the lack of clothes on her body, but she doesn’t show it.
She stands in front of me with a glare, arms crossed, and being as stubborn as ever. I want to take her home. She’s drunk, she was almost taken advantage of by some fucking creep, and there’s something behind her eyes that makes her look damaged.
Was something bothering her? Is that why she got so drunk tonight?
I take a step closer to her, but only slightly so she doesn’t back away from me.
“Please, let me take you home,” I plead, attempting to sound less demanding in hopes it will make her more inclined to do what I say. But no such luck.
“No. I’m staying,” she says defiantly. Oh, I want to strangle her right now. I close the gap between us, and Gwen doesn’t even flinch.
“No, you’re not,” Gwen’s breath quickens, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looks fucking beautiful as her blue eyes narrow, searching mine.
“I can do whatever I want, Ryker,” she practically slurs. Fuck, she is wasted.
I move in close to her face, our lips almost touching.
“You are insufferable,” I whisper, watching goosebumps form on Gwen’s arms and chest as her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. Her arms fall to her sides, and she licks her perfect red lips.
“And you’re a dick,” she says simply. I hold back a laugh, bringing my hand to her pink cheek, sweeping my thumb over it a few times. I can smell her perfume and the copious amounts of alcohol on her breath.
“If I’m such a dick, why does your breath hitch whenever I get close?” I move even closer, so we are chest to chest. “Why do you get goosebumps every time I touch you?” I move my hand from her cheek, down to her bare side, causing her to intake a sharp breath.
And then, I slowly trace my fingers down her taut stomach, past her naval, and down to the spot between her legs. I cup her pussy above the thin shorts under her skirt and her breath ceases. “And why are you so wet?” I search her eyes for any argument, but nothing comes. God, what I wouldn’t give to be inside her, to feel her wetness, to smell her arousal.
I brush my lips against hers, not enough to qualify as a real kiss. Just enough to be a tease and leave her wanting more. My dick twitches in my jeans, and if we weren’t standing in my front yard surrounded by drunk partygoers, and if Gwen wasn’t so drunk, I’d rip her pants off right here and devour her.
Backing away slowly, I watch as Gwen’s eyes open slowly, finding mine.
“I’m taking you home. Now,” I say, hoping that she’ll surrender and just do as she's told.
“I’m. Staying,” she enunciates each word, baring her teeth. I growl, having had enough of this incessant game she’s playing. I’m annoyed, very fucking pissed off, and she’s being a stubborn bitch.
An unamused laugh flies out of me.
“For what? So you can drink yourself into oblivion instead of talking about what’s wrong with you? So you can find some random guy to fuck?” I spit. I have no idea where that came from, but it’s out there now and I can’t take it back.
Gwen’s eyes narrow and her lips purse before a sinister grin overtakes her features.
“And so what if I did?” My blood runs cold. My fists clench, and a low snarl begins in my throat.
“Watch it, Gwen,” I grit my teeth, my jaw hardening. Gwen steps closer, but we’re not quite as close as before.
“Or what?” she challenged.
“Don’t.”
Is she trying to piss me the fuck off? Her arms cross again.
“What are you going to do about it?” her words remind me of the ones I said to my father at our last encounter after his empty threats.
But one thing about me, I always keep my word.
I grab Gwen’s arm roughly, causing her to let out a small squeak.
“We’re leaving,” I tell her, dragging her behind me since she’s not moving much on her own. “Guinevere… don’t make me carry you out,” I threaten. This catches Gwen’s attention. Her eyes widen and she stops completely.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“You want to bet?” I don’t even give her a chance to answer. I fling her over my shoulder like she weighs nothing, because she doesn’t really. Gwen squeals as she hits her tiny fists against my back. I slap her ass, causing her to yelp.
“Can you stop? That tickles,” I taunt. I hear her growl from behind me.
“You asshole! What is your problem?”
I walk in the direction of her house, aware that several pairs of eyes are now on us from the scene we just created. But I don’t care. Let them watch, let them talk.
“You need to sleep it off,” I call back to her.
As I approach Gwen’s house, she seems to have given up on fighting me. I set her down once we’re on her porch. She no longer looks like she’s angry. Instead, her eyes are glossy, and she looks like she’s about to cry.
Gwen looks down at her feet, her long hair falling in front of her face, avoiding my gaze which has turned from anger to concern.
Fuck. Something pulls in my chest and before I can stop myself, my hand reaches out. I place my finger under her chin, lifting softly for her to look at me.
A tear streams down her cheek and her bottom lip quivers. Shit, this girl is going to ruin me. I want to help her, I want to hurt whoever made her cry, make them suffer.
“Gwen, what’s wrong? What happened?” I don’t even recognize my own voice. I’ve never cared this much about anything before. Why is Gwen any different?
She swipes the tear away with a fist, clearly frustrated that she’s crying.
“I’m fine,” she says softly. “I just need to sleep. You can go back to your party.”
Gwen turns around and reaches for the door handle, but I grab her arm before she can open it. How could she even think I’m worried about the party right now?
“I don’t care about the fucking party, Rebel. What’s wrong?”
Gwen’s ocean blue eyes meet mine, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. The sadness in her eyes makes my heart fucking break. I need to know what’s causing it. But Gwen wouldn’t be Gwen if she didn’t give a little push back.
“I’m fine, Ryker. Just go,” she demands. I grip her arm a bit tighter, letting her know I’m not ready to go.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re crying.”
Gwen rolls her eyes in exasperation. I don’t care that she thinks she hates me, she can hate me all she wants, but I will not leave her alone until she lets me in.
Gwen sighs and sits down on the porch. She doesn’t seem as drunk anymore, probably from the adrenaline, but she’s definitely still a bit wobbly.
I follow suit, sitting down next to her, hoping she’s ready to talk. She stares blankly out at the street, the sound of partygoers screaming and talking fills the air. There’s a cold breeze, and I’m honestly surprised Gwen would want to stay out here longer. Even I’m getting a little cold.
Her tiny hands wring as she lets out a shaky breath.
“My father called,” she says, a hint of resentment in her voice. My brow cocks, and I tilt my head to look at her.
“Okay…” Did she and her father not get along? Did he say something to her to make her upset? Gwen shakes her head, looking down at the ground. She lets out a harsh laugh.
“I’m so stupid. I actually thought he’d remembered,” her hands run down her face, and she groans. “God, I’m such an idiot.” What is she talking about? I gently grab her hands and pull them away from her face. I want to kiss her. I want to make everything better.
“What do you mean? Remember what?” I pry. Gwen searches my face, her eyes full of sadness. She looks like she’s about to retreat into herself, but I won’t let her. This is clearly weighing on her, and she needs to talk about it.
“It’s…” she sighs. “He forgot my birthday. My own father forgot my birthday. I don’t even know why I’m surprised. Honestly, I’d have been more surprised if he’d remembered. How sad is that?” she lets out a breath.
Birthday?
I grab both sides of her face, forcing her to look at me. I search her expression, trying to make out what emotions she’s feeling right now, but I can’t make it out.
“Gwen, is today your birthday…?” I ask hesitantly. She nods slowly.
Oh, for Christ’s sake. It’s her fucking birthday? Why the hell wouldn’t she tell me? We spent half the day together working on that stupid fucking project and she never even mentioned it.
“Shit, Gwen. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s not a big deal. It’s just another day,” she shrugs, completely defeated. I want to be mad at her for keeping this from me. I want to yell at her for being so stubborn, but she doesn’t need that right now.
“Your dad is an asshole. Trust me, I know a thing or two about asshole dads.” Gwen looks like she wants to question what I mean, but I appreciate that she doesn’t ask. I don’t want to explain my fucked-up relationship with my father right now.
“I’m guessing you and your dad don’t get along much, huh?” I ask, hoping she’ll share a little more of her life with me.
Gwen shakes her head. “Not really. Him and my mom got divorced when I was nineteen, and he moved to California. He’s an actor, so he doesn’t have much time to talk to me.”
That’s bullshit. Everyone can make time to talk to someone they love. She’s making excuses for him, and from the sound of it, he doesn’t deserve that.
“We haven’t really spoken in a while, and when he called out of the blue tonight, I really thought he was calling to wish me a happy birthday,” she chuckles. “I’m such an idiot.”
“Stop that.”
Gwen’s eyes narrow in question. “Stop what?”
I turn so that my body is fully facing hers. Our knees touch, and my cock grows, the stupid bastard.
“Putting yourself down. You aren’t an idiot, you’re one of the smartest people I know. Your dad is the idiot. You deserve so much better than that,” I sound like a sappy chick flick. God, how the mighty have fallen.
Gwen reaches for my hand and squeezes, sending a spark of need down to my groin. I keep my eyes on hers as she licks her lips. I want to bite that lip. I want to know what it would feel like around my-
“Will you come in with me?” My eyes widen before they narrow in question. Did she just ask me to come inside her house with her? She must still be drunk. There’s no way sober Gwen would invite me in.
She stands and walks toward the door. I stand and watch as she opens the front door, then turns around to meet my gaze which had landed on her perfect ass.
“You coming?” I am so going to regret this. Against my better judgement, against everything I thought I knew of myself, I follow her inside, shutting the door behind us.
—————————
Gwen’s bedroom looks exactly like what I thought it would. Floral décor, pictures of her with an older woman who must be her mother, a light purple bed spread, a small desk under the window, and a full-length mirror in the corner.
I sit on the edge of Gwen’s bed as the water runs in the ensuite bathroom. I don’t know why she wanted me to come in. But her thoughts seem to be a bit scattered at the moment with the amount of liquor she drank tonight and the emotions running through her head.
She steps out of the bathroom in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, her hair up in a bun on the top of her head, and her makeup completely washed off. Holy shit, she’s perfect.
Climbing onto the bed, the shirt rides up an inch revealing the light blue thong she’s wearing and if I thought I was hard before, it’s unbearable now.
Gwen pulls the covers up over her and relaxes into the bed. I watch as she closes her eyes, and it’s taking everything in me not to crawl on top of her and smash my lips to hers.
“Stay until I fall asleep?” she asks softly. Jesus. I run my hands down my jean covered thighs and clear my throat.
“Okay.”
Several minutes later, Gwen’s breathing slowed, and her face softened. She looks so peaceful; so unafraid, so fucking sexy.
Happy birthday, my little Rebel.