One Night Stand With My Enemy

CHAPTER 2

Gareth

I don’t know why I even bothered to try and calm her down or why I felt the need to. Gwyneth is a pain in my ass, has been since the day she arrived back in the States after spending three years at Oxford. Apparently, she was too good For Stanford and had to run off to a different state to prove something. What she proved, I honestly don’t know. The only thing that happened in the time she was gone, is that Luke had time for someone else other than his precious Gwyn.

I met Luke on our first day at Stanford, both of us late for our introduction meeting. We snuck in together and then bonded over the fact that neither of us were ever on time for anything. I liked to sleep late and Luke just didn’t have any sense of time. It is a miracle he was on time for his own wedding, but I guess that has a lot to do with Gwyneth, who is always on time and she was put in charge of getting him here. I hate to say it, but I am a little disappointed that she didn’t purposely screw up and make him late, seeing as she has been hung up on him for years and having him married crushes every dream she ever had of being with him. It just goes to show how damn selfless she is. It is one of the biggest reasons I can’t stand her.

Gwyneth is the perfect picture of f*****g mother Mary. She is gracious and caring, always looks out for everyone else’s happiness before her own. I have never heard her swear out loud until an hour ago and that just goes to show how distraught she is by Luke getting married. The only person she ever looks at with distaste is me. She is everything I am not and that is why I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for longer than five minutes without trying to get a rise out of her. She has to have a flaw, or something that makes her c***k and I plan on finding it.

“Care to dance?” Hella, Luke’s personal assistant asks me. Why the hell she was even invited to the wedding is a mystery to me. She hasn’t been working for Luke long enough to be attending his wedding, but as she had helped plan most of it, she was giving an invitation, as if she wasn’t just doing her damn job.

“I don’t mix business and pleasure, I have told you that before. Try one more time to get me to touch you and I will have you fired faster than you can spread your f*****g legs.” I say it only loud enough for her to hear. She sucks in a breath at my crude words, as if she expected anything else from me. She should know better after I turned her down the first four times she had tried hitting on me. She knows she is beautiful, and most men would fall over their feet to get a chance to get between her legs, but that is about as far as it goes. She is the type of woman that tries to seduce wealthy men and the second one lays a hand on her, she will use it against them, forcing the man to either part with a big chunk of his money or she will try her best to ruin their reputation. I, for one, will not fall for it.

“You are a hateful man and can’t wait to see the day a woman gets to walk all over you.” She says, stomping her foot like a child before walking away. She will be long gone before the day comes where I will give a woman the opportunity to hurt me.

“Well, that went well.” Gwyn says from beside me. I knew she was close, knew it like I knew every time she walked into a room. It is like her sunshine pushed against my darkness and there was just never enough room for the both of us in one place.

“Glad to see you got over your pity party.” I tell her, keeping my eyes on the dance floor instead of turning to look at her like I am dying to do.

“Not quite sure if I am over it yet, but you were right.” Now it is impossible not to look at her. Did she just say that I was right?

“About what part exactly was I right about?” I ask her, taking in her expressive green eyes and her soft pouting lips. Her eyes are still slightly red from crying and I don’t know why I have the urge to beat the s**t out of Luke for not even caring that he is hurting her. Fucker probably doesn’t even know that she has feelings for him.

“You were right about the fact that I was using my mother as an excuse and that the last thing Luke needs from me is to be a wreck on the happiest day of his life.” So damn selfless. I didn’t want her to be the face of pure happiness for him, I wanted her to show him that he didn’t matter for her sake. But of course, she thought I wanted her to pretend a little longer for him. “Your offer for a dance still on the table?” She asks, shocking me again.

“I never offered to dance with you, I just said to come and find me, that way you don’t have to stand and pretend to enjoy this version of hell.” I tell her, but honestly, my hands are itching to pull her closer, to press her against me as I sweep her over the dancefloor, but I feel like I will be crossing a line that I will never be able to come back from.

“Of course, silly of me to think that you would even consider putting your hands on me.” She says and once again, I am speechless. Gwyn looks down at her hands and instead of giving her a reply like I probably should, I take her in. Her dress looks like a second layer of skin, showing off every curve and leaving very little to the imagination. Where she is usually dressed in clothes that cover her up, tonight she stepped out of her comfort zone and dressed to impress, or maybe that was Abigale’s idea and Gwyn was to f*****g nice to say no. The green silk of the dress moves with her, and I am surprised by the amount of jealousy I feel for a piece of material. Her breasts are hardly contained by the dress and my mouth waters for a taste, my mind wondering about the colour of her n*****s.

Fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this. Gwyn is off limits, even if she didn’t annoy the living hell out of me, she would still be off limits. f**k for all I know, she is very much still a virgin, having saved herself for a man that will never see her as more than a friend. “Look, I know you wouldn’t want to be caught dead with a woman like me on your arm, but can you for once just stop being a complete jerk and just dance with me? I promise not to step on your toes.” She looks up at me again, fear and determination shining in her eyes. She is afraid of rejection, but she is determined to get out of her shell. Finally.

“Not sure why you would think I wouldn’t want a woman like you on my arm. If anything, every man in here is probably fantasizing about having you pressed up against them, but not having the balls to come up and ask you for a dance.” I told her, holding my hand out to her. She looks down at my hand as if she didn’t expect me to actually say yes.

“Are you one of them?” She asks before taking my hand.

“One of whom?” I ask, for a moment stunned at how right her hand feels in mine. Maybe I had one too many drinks tonight.

“One of those men fantasizing about me?” You have no f*****g idea.

“You are not ready for half of the things I want to do to you.” I said under my breath, hoping she didn’t hear me, but the widening of her eyes tells me that she heard exactly what I said. “Don’t start something you are not ready for. I am not the guy you give yourself to in the hopes of having more than just a few mind-blowing orgasms. I am the kind of guy to f**k and leave. And you are way too f*****g good for that.” It is official, I had far too much to drink. There is no other excuse for even thinking about her as more than the annoying goody two shoes. For having a hard on from simply holding her f*****g hand like some teenage boy touching his crush for the first time. f**k, this dance was a bad idea.