Protect & Serve(74)

We stood in silence for a few moments, one that was weightier than I could handle. I had to say something to break it. I was never one for emotionally charged moments, especially not where the promise of sex was concerned.

“Well, I suppose this puts us at an impasse,” I chuckled.

But Gwennie didn’t laugh. She didn’t even smile. In fact, she looked downright pissed at me, like sharing a joke with me was the last thing on her mind. Like wringing my neck was the first.

“Don’t even joke about that,” she hissed, stalking away from me, eyes wild. “Jesus, Tristan. If anyone were to hear you…”

I snorted. “What, is your flat bugged?”

“With you here, it might as well be,” she answered, casting a furtive glance out the windows. “No doubt a fair few paparazzi followed you here tonight. And you never know what lengths they’ll go to.”

“Oh, yes, what a scoop,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Duke’s Son Once Again Cocks Up a Date, Goes to His Sister’s to Have a Whinge. I’m sure it’ll sell out nationwide.”

“Stepsister,” she reminded me, and I narrowed my eyes.

“Who are you reminding here, Gwennie? You, or me?”

Gwendolyn didn’t answer that. She pursed her lips and turned away from me. Thanks to the towel turban holding her hair back, I could see that the tips of her ears were turning red. Her chest was flushing the same color. I wondered where else the blood in her body was rushing. I knew my own pulse had culminated in some very intimate places.

“Look,” I said, trying to sound more gentle than I was feeling, “we need to talk about this. We never discussed—”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Gwendolyn put in, but I went on.

“—what happened before I joined the Royal Army. What happened between us.”

I remembered it well. And no matter how much Gwennie tried to hand wave it away, I knew she remembered, too. The way her eyes glazed over when I brought it up made me certain of that fact.

Absently, she touched her lips, as if she could still feel the way my breath had been upon them in that cramped, hot pantry. Dear Lord, I’d wanted to devour her in there, hold up her tiny body against the shelves and just dive face-first into her virgin cunt. Maybe if we’d had a few moments more, that’s exactly what I would have done. I’d been a stupid boy back then, though, and I’d strutted out of there before she could give in, certain she’d follow me. I’d underestimated how stubborn my Gwennie could be. It seemed she’d only grown more obstinate with age.

My Gwennie. Shit, did I really think of her that way? Or could I chalk it up to an errant imagining, one I wasn’t totally responsible for? I knew which one I’d like to do, but what would be the truth? It’s easier to lie to yourself if you can at least suss that out.

“That was a long time ago,” she said, though the way she stared at me I could have sworn we were right back there, the both of us so ready to take one another that we could taste it. I could still recall the way she felt against my lips, how her skin had turned to goose flesh beneath my soft and caressing touches. “We were still kids.”

“Like hell we were,” I said, shaking my head as I recalled just how adult the two of us had felt back in that pantry. I could tell by the way Gwennie’s body fit against me that we had been by no means children. “We were most certain not behaving like any children I’d ever met… though I always did love playing doctor.”

“You’re such a bastard,” Gwendolyn spat, though the look on her face told me that she immediately regretted it. It was cute how much she cared for my feelings, cared about how I felt about my place in the world. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean—”

“I know what I am, Gwen,” I said, leaning against the door of her refrigerator. “I’m not ashamed it, not like my father is. I’ve been told so many times that the word has lost all meaning to me.”

“Still, I was insensitive,” she tried to reason. “I shouldn’t have called you that.”

“And just how do you plan to make it up to me?” I asked, smiling down at her as I took a step closer. Our young bodies pressed together. I summoned the memory of her hand down my pants, holding on to my pierced cock. I could almost feel the sensation—her firm, but timid grip.

“You always know how to turn something innocent into some disgusting innuendo,” she said, shaking her head, though I spotted her lips turning up at the corners and knew that she was enjoying herself.

“It’s a special talent of mine, actually,” I laughed, drawing nearer to her once again. “One of many that I’ve already offered to show you.”