Dark Romance Collection: A Sexy, Dark Bundle

by Huntington, Parker S.

  And me? I wasn’t prepared for an ambush this morning. The follow-up roundtable meetings were later today. I was supposed to have a few more hours. I’d just gotten into New York last night, and now we were fighting already?

  I used anger to give me strength. “Nope.” I sat upright and scrambled to face Damian. “Don’t even finish that sentence.” My head shook, along with my already shaky façade. Hell, I’d pretty much dropped the calm, cool and collected act last month, and it didn’t look like it would make a return anytime soon. “Last month, you could have mentioned me leaving, but you said nothing. This isn’t fair.”

  “There’s no statute of limitations on how long I can bring up you leaving me.”

  “I left Texas. So what?!”

  I was so sick of the guilt I felt over it. We’d been dating for a month. Tops. Why had I spent the past ten years agonizing over my mistake? I was a kid. Eighteen. Scared. Confused. I didn’t deserve to suffer for it for the rest of my life. Maybe I needed to be told that everything was okay.

  “You don’t remember what you said?”

  Yes, but I didn’t think he had.

  I ran a hand across my face. “I was young. I didn’t mean it.”

  I’d also needed him not to chase me, though that didn’t work out. He’d chased and chased and chased, and I’d used my family’s resources to make sure I was never found. Even when everything in me wanted to come back to him, I reminded myself of how much it hurt to leave the first time.

  Disbelief painted his features. “You honestly expect me to believe that?”

  Our relationship was so starved of honesty that I couldn’t expect him to believe anything that came out of my mouth. My reasons for coming to Texas? Apparently, a lie. My reasons for leaving? Definitely a lie. How many lies had we told in between? How about the last time we’d been in New York for Vince’s funeral?

  This was escalating far quicker than I could keep up. My hands formed fists at my sides. I shook my head. “I was never supposed to be in Texas in the first place! I was eighteen. A kid. We were both kids, and it’s not like you loved me.”

  “I did though.”

  No. Way.

  His eyes dipped to the stupid ring on my finger, one I’d been fiddling with all morning. “I fucking did!”

  “You never said it.”

  “I did!”

  “When we had sex—one time. And it was because of the sex.” My hands shook. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. “You never said it any other time.”

  “I didn’t think I had to. I didn’t think there was a rush. I didn’t think you’d leave!” He shook his head. “And it wasn’t because of the sex. I meant what I said.”

  “I… I—” I scrambled over him and off the bed, needing the space. I paced the length of the bed, choosing my words before giving up and heading to the door.

  “Knight!” He stood and ate the two steps between us. “You don’t get to walk away this time.”

  “Are you blaming me for this?!” I shook my head. “You’re the one who lied to me. That was you, Damsel. Not me. You.” I turned to face him. “I loved you, and you lied to me.”

  Damian shook his head. “I didn’t lie to you.”

  I scoffed. “A lie of omission is still a lie.”

  Damian and I had seen each other for all of five minutes, and a full-blown argument had ensued. I wished I was better at saying no to Maman when she asked me to return. Then, I wouldn’t be here, a knot the size of Texas in my throat as I tried to speak past it.

  Damian’s eyes were dark with frustration. “How can you stand there, so angry at me, when you have a goddamn ring on your finger?!” He took a step toward me, and I resisted the dueling urges to kiss him and extricate myself from this situation. “You’re married, Ren; yet, you clearly still care about me.”

  Screw this ring.

  I tore it from my finger and tossed it at his chest. “I’m not married, Damsel.” Humiliation tingled across my spine. “My mom gave me the ring to wear on my ring finger before I left, so I’d have armor when I faced you. Happy?!”

  This fight had been a long time coming. Honestly, it felt good to get this out, like it needed to happen before we could move forward. Each word I spoke eased my anger and healed a bit of pain. And now that I had this ring off my finger, a giant weight lifted off my shoulders.

  The ring bounced off his chest and hit the floor. He stared at it before backing me into the bookshelf behind me. “You’re not married?”

  “No.” I looked away.

  “You try to be so strong”—he cupped my face and moved it until I stared into his eyes—“and you are. So, so strong, Renata. But you don’t need to be strong all the time. You’re perfect, even when you’re fragile. You put up these walls you don’t need to put up. You don’t need the baggy clothes nor the tight pencil skirts and fancy evening gowns. You don’t need the ring. You can wear whatever you want and be whoever you want, and you’d still be the best person I know.”

  It was too much.

  His words.

  Him.

  I pushed him away. “You don’t know me anymore.”

  “I know all I need to know.”

  I shook my head again, memories of running away sinking into me. “I didn’t know you’d be so mad!”

  “How could I not be?! The girl I loved left me!”

  “It’s not like we said I love yous.”

  “We’ve been over this. I did.”

  I froze, and memories of the night he had taken my virginity pushed to the front of my mind. I’d buried them, hoping to black out the pain of what came next—leaving him.

  “And even if I hadn’t said it, it shouldn’t matter. You should have known. You had to have known.” He dipped his head and closed his eyes. Tense lines traveled across his forehead. When he opened his eyes again, they landed on my tattoo—a scribbled line wrapped around my ring finger.

  I forced myself not to fidget as he stared at it. “What? Why are you staring?”

  His eyes met mine, dipped to my finger, then returned to my eyes. A strange look crossed his face, the one he would give me in our library when he’d thought I wasn’t looking. Damian took a step closer to me.

  Then, another.

  And another.

  His eyes dropped to my tattoo and returned to mine.

  And then, like he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he kissed me.

  It is not a shame to be deceived; but it is to stay in the deception.

  Olivia

  Eighteen Years Old

  Normal.

  Two syllables. Adjective. Conforming to a standard.

  Synonyms: usual, typical, or expected.

  Antonym: my life.

  Turning eighteen felt like it should have been a rite of passage. I didn’t feel any more or less like an adult than I had at seventeen. I didn’t celebrate my newfound adulthood with parties or friends. Heck, I’d forgotten it was my birthday until I woke up the next morning and Angelo De Luca told me eighteen was a little too old for his taste.

  Maybe that was why I showed up to prom.

  I wanted to feel normal, but in a town of mafiosos and their children, normalcy evaded me. Prom represented my last chance at normal high school memories. The crowded gym and paper decor screamed, “Normal!” The taffeta dresses and matching ties? Normal. Sitting at an empty table, watching other kids enjoy their senior prom? All too normal.

  So, why wasn’t I happy?

  Maybe I didn’t know what I wanted.

  I certainly no longer wanted to be here.

  I stood and headed for the hallway, grabbing a water bottle from the refreshment table on the way out. The library entrance nestled at the end of the hall welcomed me. I left the door open, so the hallway light could stream into the library, and took a seat on the floor.

  I downed the water and spun the empty bottle, bored out of my mind but too stubborn to leave the only high school event I’d ever been to.

  “You’re the life of t
he party.”

  “No self-respecting woman should wish or work for the success of a party who ignores her sex. Susan B. Anthony.”

  “Not the kind of party I was referring to.” He stepped closer until his feet were in my line of sight, next to the bottle.

  I trailed my eyes up his body, taking in the three-piece suit he wore like he posed in a GQ feature. “No shit.”

  “So, you’re in a grumpy mood, I see.” He took a seat next to me and leaned against the bookshelf behind us. “What is it about libraries?”

  “Nothing is less lonely than a room full of books.” I breathed in. “And the smell. Definitely the smell.”

  He reached beside him and grabbed a random book, flipping through it quicker than he could possibly read. “Why are you here?”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Really?”

  “Do you ever feel like the only real people in this world are the ones in these books?”

  “Or maybe the world we’re living in is a book, and we’re just characters.”

  I rested my head against the bookcase and closed my eyes. “If that’s the case, someone is reading me, becoming me, understanding me, and maybe I’m not so lonely after all.”

  He paused a beat, and the silence burrowed between us. “I’m sorry you feel lonely.”

  This was getting too real.

  “Why are you here, Damsel?” I nodded in the direction of the gym. “You should be out there with your loyal subjects.”

  The lopsided grin he gave me shocked my system, and the calmness I’d always prided myself on fled. “Don’t you mean your loyal subjects, Princess? You’re the Vitali.”

  “I’m the Knight, and don’t change the subject. Why are you here?” I leaned forward, and I didn’t even consider why I held my breath as I waited for his answer.

  “Let’s dance.”

  “What?” I shook my head. “If we go out there together, we’ll break their little minds.” As far as I knew, no one knew about our friendship.

  “So, we’ll dance in here.” I opened my mouth, but he cut me off. “Don’t think too hard. If you want to dance with me, dance with me. As simple as that.” He stood and turned to face me.

  The second my palm pressed against his, I knew I’d made the right decision. A slow song drifted into the library, faint but enough for us to find a rhythm. My fingers gripped his shoulders as his hands slid around my waist.

  I forced myself to keep breathing when he stepped forward, and my chest brushed against him. The first step we took was effortless. In sync without trying.

  I rested my chin on his shoulder, and my nose brushed against his neck. I felt his Adam’s apple bob against my cheek. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, and the territory we drifted into felt dangerous. Risky. Like it could either be the best decision or the worst decision I’d ever made. I was almost thankful when he said, “Don’t think too much of it,” instead of something that would tip us past the breaking point.

  Maybe he saw the million questions running through my head, because he dipped me and spoke into my ear. “Tell that brain of yours to shut up and let us dance.”

  “Why?”

  He pulled me back up, and his grip on my waist tightened. “Because you’ll find out.”

  That he cared about me.

  “I already have.”

  His eyes darkened as they scanned my face. We’d stopped dancing after the dip, but he still held me, and I still clutched onto his shoulders.

  My pulse was erratic.

  Damn it, Heart.

  My throat closed up.

  Not you, too, Throat.

  My knees buckled.

  I give up, Body.

  I kissed him.

  Our lips pressed together, and instinct latched onto me as I explored his mouth. His tongue traced my lips. I parted them, and he slipped inside. His tongue stroked the roof of my mouth, and he took a step into me, backing me into the bookcase behind me.

  The musty scent of books, and characters, and worlds mixed with his scent of bergamot and blackcurrant. I needed him closer, but I didn’t know how to ask. My hands slid down his shoulders and pulled at the tucked edges of his dress shirt underneath his vest. I dipped my fingers under the shirt and explored the hard edges of his stomach muscles.

  His mouth drifted from my lips to my jaw and down my neck. I cried out when his tongue traced my collarbone, then bit down. My right hand wrapped around his body and squeezed his butt cheek, but the phone in his pocket blocked my movement.

  As if someone had dumped a bucket of water on my head, I lurched out of the lust fog. What had I done? We were… I didn’t know what we were. Natural born enemies? Accidental friends? Neither felt right.

  Maman hadn’t contacted me yet, but I knew she would. I’d been eighteen for a week now. When she contacted me, I could leave. Damian only complicated things. He must have felt my waning enthusiasm because he backed up, giving me space.

  My heart warred between feeling grateful and wounded.

  It’s not the first time he’s hurt you, Heart. Remember when you first came here?

  My heart wasn’t having any of my logic.

  He may have hurt me, but he heals so much better.

  Damian’s brows furrowed. “Knight?”

  Panic lodged itself in my throat, and I forced some words out. Any words. “This means nothing.”

  Frustration flashed within his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, Princess."

  The lust fog may have eased, but I still felt heavy. Like layers of secrets and history weighed me down as I stood mere feet from the first boy I’d ever kissed. “I need air.”

  It took a moment, but he finally nodded. “I can take you home.”

  I agreed, grabbed the empty water bottle I’d chugged earlier, and forced myself to take steps toward the gym to get my coat from the coat check. A rivulet of sweat trailed down my cheek. I swiped at it with a hand that felt like lead.

  My body swayed into Damian’s as we entered the gym.

  He caught me and steadied me just as he returned. “You okay?” When I nodded, his hand still on my elbow squeezed. “Stay here. I’ll go get your coat.”

  I stumbled to the refreshments table a foot away, my dry mouth begging for a water bottle.

  Laura met me at the table, a smirk pasted on her cherry-red lips. “Still thirsty?” She looked at the empty bottle in my hand, then the row of water bottles with one missing. Mine.

  It took me a moment too long to piece it together. That fog in my head pressed down with each second. She’d put something in the water bottles, water bottles only I drank from. Everyone was in on it.

  Was Damian?

  I shook my head and swayed again.

  Like earlier, Damian caught me. “Ren?” When I didn’t answer, he turned to Laura, his arms still around me. “Laura? Care to explain?” The hardness in his tone eased my worries.

  He didn’t know.

  I let myself check out as they talked.

  Laura crossed her arms. “I-I…We were just having fun.”

  Damian’s head brushed my cheek as he turned to look at the water bottles. “You drugged her? What if I’d drunk from a water bottle? Would you have drugged me?”

  “One of us would have stopped you!”

  “Are you insane? She’s a Vitali, Laura. Her family could have us all wiped from existence!” The gym had quieted, and Damian’s shouts rang across the gym as he addressed the entire student body. “Have you all gone fucking insane?! Why would any of you go through with this?!”

  Silence.

  “Someone better fucking answer me. Now!”

  “Laura said it was your idea.”

  I didn’t know who spoke up, but he sounded like a chipmunk. I’d never loved chipmunks, but I’d always loved animals. Why didn’t I love chipmunks?

  My knees buckled again, and Damian all but carried me now. “Your punishment will be given tomorrow, Laura.” He raised his voice.
“As for the rest of you, you’re all fucking idiots.”

  I looked up at him. “I’m an idiot?”

  He closed his eyes, sighed, and opened them again. “No. Now let’s get you home.” He bent down and carried me bridal style.

  My head lolled back. “I feel like a princess.”

  “You are a princess.”

  “But I’m a Knight. I do the saving, not you.”

  “Consider me a fellow knight. We’re in a battle together. I’m doing what any knight would do and helping a fellow knight.”

  “Damian?”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t know what we’re talking about.”

  His lips turned upward before abruptly shifting downward. “Rest, Knight. We’ll be home soon.”

  The driver opened the door. Damian slid us into the car, and I closed my eyes as I sat on his lap, my head resting on his shoulder. When I opened them again, I was on my bed, and the room began to spin. Damian stood at the foot of the bed, an oversized shirt of his in one hand.

  He followed me as I ran across the hall and heaved into the bathroom toilet. I took the shirt he offered, and he turned away as I changed out of my dress and into the shirt, which fell down to my thighs. It smelled like him. His scent eased the dizziness and caused tingles to spread across my flushed skin.

  I blinked a few times until his face became clearer. “What’s happening?”

  “Laura gave you GHB.” He helped me back to my room and onto my bed.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’ll be drowsy, dizzy, nauseous, sweaty, and tired. But you’ll be okay.” He hesitated as he tucked me into bed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You probably won’t remember a thing.”

  I remembered that we weren’t friends. “Why are you helping me?”

  His jaw ticked, and he swung his gaze to the side for a moment. “Earlier, you said the only real people in this world are the ones in books. But you’re real, too, and when I’m around you, you make me real. You make me alive.” He took my hand. “It’s the only time I don’t feel like I’m just going through the motions.”

  A lopsided smile grew on my face. “I think I like you.”

  “I think I more than like you. If things weren’t so complicated, I could see myself with you forever.”