Savage Grace

4 - Ryatt

Cara perched on my lap, holding a Jell-O shot as she talked animatedly to one of her friends. Her wheat ponytail swayed with every word. I couldn't remember the other chick's name, but we fucked a few months ago.

My eyes were already glazed over, and I was growing bored. But as a senior, I couldn't skip out on the festivities. Not that this was a school-sanctioned event, but this is where people were made and broken. Our close-knit society was forged on the back of networking, and right now I was on top of the ladder, where I intended to stay. One day these teenagers would be running this town, and I would have them all in my back pocket.

"Oh my God. Isn't she embarrassed?" Cara hissed to her friend. My eyes searched in the direction they were looking, landing on Grace as she stumbled over a piece of driftwood, giggling with her fire crotch friend from first period. I smirked, finding it funny how little she cared. If she continued this way, I wouldn't have to do anything to help her ruin her reputation.

"Look at her clothes," her friend shot back.

"It's Pink Floyd," I pointed out, taking in her vintage t-shirt, growing irritated with their bullshit, hypocritical or not. "You're wearing a cocktail dress on the beach."

"Is that like a designer?" Cara asked, shaking her head at me.

"It's a band," I groaned.

"So, she's a groupie?" Cara shot back, cackling. I stood, dumping her off my lap and letting her ass land in the sand by my feet.

"I need a refill." I stepped around her and made my way to the keg, grabbing a bottle of liquor and filling up my solo cup.

"Oh, my God. Ransom!" Cara forced a giggle to cover her humiliation.

I couldn't help letting my eyes drift over the flames, watching Grace raise a glass to her lips, dribbles of liquid rolling down the sides of her mouth and staining her shirt. Maybe if she got wasted enough, we could strip her and leave her on the beach for the lifeguards to find in the morning.

"Hey, man," Jones grabbed my hand, pulling me in to bump shoulders. "Where the hell have you been? This summer was lit."

"Exploring the world," I replied, looking around for a new piece of ass who was less annoying.

"You mean exploring panties. Speaking of which, I wanted to ask you if you cared if I took a swing at that hot chick?"

"What hot chick?"

"The one you squared off with during first period," he replied. "Savage."

I smiled at the memory before shaking my head. "Nah. That one is a special project. But Cara is up for grabs."

"I can't believe she didn't move from your seat, man," he replied with a laugh. "She either has a death wish or you've finally met your match."

"It's definitely a death wish," I muttered, refilling my glass and wishing he'd shut the fuck up.

A group of people began to strip their clothes and run toward the water, screaming about a game of chicken. My eyes went back to Grace and her friend, watching as they stood from the log they were perched on and began to peel off their clothing.

Grace's eyes caught mine and she fumbled with her cut off jean shorts, like she wasn't sure she wanted to strip in front of me. So, I steeled my gaze, not looking away. Daring her to try to make herself at home with my friends in my town.

Her chin jutted up and she scowled, shoving them down over her hips with a little wiggle. She swayed, kicking them off her feet before gripping her shirt and ripping it over her head. Her eyebrow cocked, and I let my eyes drag down her body. Fuck. I shouldn't have enjoyed that as much as I did. Her bra was basic white with a thin line of lace around the edge. Her panties were bright yellow cotton with a Care Bear above her snatch. I smirked, and her mouth popped open as she looked down, through the haze of alcohol, remembering what she had on.

Her friend grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the water, and just that quickly, Grace had forgotten our standoff or the fact that when those panties hit the water, they would be completely see-through.

There was a very fine line of the pain I could inflict on her. And that level dropped to zero for anyone else. So, now I was stuck watching this girl who shouldn't be here, keeping her safe so I could get her home and torture her myself. I should call her mother. I should drag her out of the waves by her hair.

"Oh, my God. New girl was so eye fucking you," Cara slurred, tugging her slinky Dolce dress over her head. "Savage hearts Ransom," she giggled, drawing a heart in the air with her fingers like she was so fucking clever. "How pathetic."

"Aw, don't be jealous because the new girl is getting all the attention," Jones teased her, earning him a scowl and a backhand across his bare chest.

I rolled my eyes, my gaze drawn back to the water. "If you get wet, you aren't getting in my car," I warned, my gaze going to my black '67 Chevy SS that sat at the edge of the sand. It was the one vehicle I owned that I paid for with my own money, and had it restored. It took three years of work to get it pristine.

Cara rolled her eyes. "You treat that car better than you treat me."

"That's because I love the car. I tolerate you," I replied, causing Jones to spit out his drink as he laughed.

"You're so mean," she shot back before forcing a smile like I was teasing her. I wasn't.

And Cara didn't heed my warning, running down the beach and into the ocean.

Grace and her friend sat in the shallow water, letting the waves wash over their legs, not partaking in the drunken games unfolding around them.

"So, who is she?" Jones asked, his gaze following mine, staring at her like every other guy here.

I took another sip of my drink, trying to hide my annoyance. "Does it matter? She's untouchable," I warned, my eyes cutting to him.

"I got it man," he held his hands up in front of him. "I was just curious."

***