by Dani René
6
Arabella
“So, like I told you before, there’s Alistor, who owns the house. Well, his folks do, but that’s beside the point. They’re never there. And Ahren, his best friend who is…” Marleigh is talking, but I haven’t been all too focused on her explanation of where we’re going tonight. She’s focused on the boys, but I can’t stop thinking about a certain teacher I shouldn’t be thinking of. I wanted to impress him with my love of mythology, and when I handed in my assignment from yesterday, I was sure he noticed me trembling.
I can’t explain why, but he makes me nervous. To the point where the hummingbirds in my stomach wake up and fight a battle with my heart. Both thrumming and tumbling with an endless reminder that I most certainly have a crush.
“Are you listening to me?” Marleigh asks, breaking through the fog that has been caused by Mr. Donati and those endless pools I feel myself getting lost in, making it feel as if he’s attempting to bore a hole right through me with one single stare.
“No. Yes. I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t be,” Marleigh tells me earnestly. “This is going to be fun, and by fun, I mean we’ll be able to just forget about school and focus on dancing the night away.” Her enthusiasm is catching, and I have to smile. She’s the complete opposite of me. Her wavy, brown hair with those dark eyes are so far from my gray eyes and honey-hued locks.
“I know. I’ll be fine once we’re actually there and I’m in the throng of people,” I inform her with a wink. I slip on the shiny heels that give me a couple inches of height and take in my appearance in the mirror.
My long hair hangs in a sleek style down to the base of my spine. The shimmery black mini dress would most probably give any parent a heart attack, but my aunt isn’t home, and thankfully, I’ll be able to sneak in before she gets back from her meetings.
At first, I was worried about going back to that life. But this is different. At least, that’s what I tell myself in the hopes of not allowing guilt to wash over me. Emotions are pointless. That’s what I’ve learned from an early age.
Don’t feel them.
Don’t show them.
So even as my heart shatters thinking about what I’ve lost, I haven’t cried. I don’t allow the tears to fall because it’s a sign of weakness. And Dad always taught me weakness is for fools.
“This is so short,” I tell Marleigh, looking at the curve of my ass as the hemline hangs at the top of my thighs. “I mean … I can’t bend over.”
A laugh tumbles from her lips. “Or you could and any guy in his right mind would do anything you ask of him.” Her dark brow arches, and the smirk on her lips tells me she’s already planned how to get attention tonight.
“You’re ridiculous.” I can’t help but laugh. It’s good to have made a connection here. I didn’t think I’d have someone I could call a friend on my first day at the academy, but Marleigh has been spending each lunch with me, and the classes we do share, we’ve sat together, which makes the transition less lonely than I expected it to be.
“And that’s why we’re going to be the best of friends,” she announces as she walks over to me. Her dress is fire-engine red, and it also shimmers under the light as she moves. “Don’t worry about a thing, Ara. You will have the most amazing school year. We’re seniors. We’re meant to cause a little bit of trouble.”
And that’s what worries me.
By the time we get to the party, it’s in full swing. There are students filling every available space. The living room has a table set up where guys are playing beer pong, and we move through the house into the kitchen where we find bottles of alcohol strewn along the countertop. Some labels I recognize, others I don’t.
Marleigh grabs two Solo cups, and we fill them with beer from a keg near the sink. The bubbly liquid is bitter tasting, but I sip it down anyway. Marleigh slips her hand in mine, our fingers laced as she pulls me out into the backyard which looks like it could host a music concert it’s so big. I’m not sure how many acres of land this is, but it’s much more than I’m used to coming from the city.
A hot tub filled with almost-naked bodies is positioned over to the right of the swimming pool, which looks rather inviting with blue lights illuminating it. Girls and guys surround it, sitting on loungers and bean bags while holding drinks in their hands.
There are large vibrating speakers positioned around the outdoor area, giving off the feel of surround sound. The bass rumbles through me; a dance song I don’t recognize blares at the guests.
“There he is,” Marleigh hisses in my ear, pointing at the bar beside the pool. The guy in question has two full sleeves of ink. His dark hair looks black from here, and he’s wearing a pair of black, torn jeans which hang from his tapered hips. Lifting my eyes, I trace them along his toned abs, up to broad shoulders, and find a smile that’s bright and welcoming.
“Who’s that?” I gesture with my chin toward the guy. His dark hair and eyes with olive skin make him look Mediterranean. Rugged bad boy. That’s what he reminds me of. The complete opposite of Mr. Donati.
“Ahren,” she says right in my ear. “Come, we’ll go and say hello.” Before I have time to refuse her, she drags me along, pulling me all the way down to the garden until we reach him. He’s standing with a few other guys, but the moment he notices us, he practically ignores his friends and focuses on Marleigh and me.
“Beautiful women at the party. I like it,” he says. His voice is a husky tone, which rumbles right through me as deeply as the music does.
“Hi, Ahren,” Marleigh greets. Her smile is electric. “How are you?”
“Leigh. I’m good, behaving badly, just like everyone expects me to. Always nice to see you.” He tips his head in welcome, then roves his gaze over to me. “And your friend is …?”
“This is Arabella,” Marleigh introduces me. “She’s new to Black Mountain,” she excitedly informs him.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, offering me his hand, which I accept. His grip is firm, commanding. I can’t deny he’s gorgeous, and the cocky smirk that graces his lips makes my stomach flutter wildly.
“Nice to meet you too. Quite the party you have here.”
“Not me. I’m merely a VIP guest. This is all Alistor’s doing. He likes to go all out and then some.” He waves his hand around, a smile on his lips, and I realize I’m staring when he glances at me once more. Marleigh was right. He could be my type. Perhaps I should give this a chance. “Ah, well, I didn’t think you’d be here,” Ahren says, his gaze flitting over my shoulder at the person behind us.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The scent of cologne hits me right in the nose—masculine and spice. It’s familiar. I’ve gotten lost in it each time I’ve walked into history class. The heat of him is right behind me, and as I twist on my heel, I find him glaring down at me.
“Mr. Donati.” I voice his name in a whisper that causes me to cringe inwardly. “You’re …” I turn to Ahren, then to Marleigh who’s grinning at me like a fool. She knew he’d be here? No, she couldn’t have. She would’ve told me. But then again, why would she? I didn’t tell her I’ve been thinking about this man nonstop since I walked right into his solid chest on my first day of school.
“It’s Elian,” he finally says, breaking through my inward hysterical panic. “We’re not at school, and I always try to ensure that I keep my personal and professional life separate.” Even though he tells us this, there’s still an air of authority wafting from him. I doubt this man knows how to let his hair down.
He’s dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a black shirt, which has a few buttons undone at the top, showing off the smooth, tanned skin underneath. With that small glimpse of flesh, I can’t stop staring at the way he looks less put together from the way he normally does in class.
“Be careful tonight, girls,” he warns us. “And don’t overdo those.” His stare locks on the Solo cup in my hands, which still has beer in it.
“Oh, come on, E
li,” Ahren says from behind me. “It’s a party. Don’t be a spoil sport. They can have one or two drinks.” I can practically feel the tension between the two men. “Besides, aren’t you the cool teach?”
Marleigh grabs my hand and tugs me closer to her. “We’re going to dance,” she informs them before she drags me behind her until we reach a section of the garden which has been turned into a dance floor. Bodies sway to the music, but even as I join her, trying to get lost in the rhythm that’s beating through the speakers, I can’t stop my gaze from finding Elian in the crowd.
Even his name is sexy.
“He likes you,” Marleigh speaks, once again close to my ear as we dance together. I look directly at her, locking my gaze on hers, and I see no humor reflected there.
Shock must paint my expression when I gasp, “What?”
“He likes you. It’s so damn obvious.” She shrugs nonchalantly, as if she’s just told me the weather report is predicting sunshine all week. My heart catapults at the thought of Elian Donati liking me. But he’s a man. He’s mature, older. There’s no way he’d be interested in a senior in high school.
“Who?” The moment I ask, she gives me a don’t-fucking-joke-with-me glare.
“Elian Donati,” Marleigh announces his name directly to me.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” I tease, trying to ignore the fact that my cheeks are burning with embarrassment.
“Something tells me you like him too,” she observes with a flirty wink.
“No.” I shake my head. “He’s a teacher, and that’s just weird.”
Marleigh tips her head back, laughing out loud at me crinkling my nose for effect. Can she really see right through my lies? “I’m sure you weren’t just blushing like a tomato because it’s weird.”
“You’re insufferable,” I bite out playfully as we sway to the music. Marleigh laughs, but there’s a knowing look in her eyes. I can’t deny it, and it seems my new friend can see right through my lies.
As the song comes to an end, I excuse myself, telling her I need the restroom, and make my escape. I’m sure Marleigh is about to follow me, but a tall, older guy steals her away, inadvertently distracting her, which I’m grateful for. I need to gather my thoughts.
In the house, I move through the bodies shifting against each other. In the corner of the living room against the soft, comfortable-looking couches are groups of students chattering loudly. I can make out a few words over the chilled, thumping bass of Echoes singing “Guestroom” coming from the surrounding speakers.
The bathroom is locked, and a few shouts come from inside, which makes me laugh. Occupied. I make my way toward the entrance hall and find the staircase leading up. The house has a modern touch to it with glass from ceiling to floor and steel railings along the steps, which brings me out onto a landing. I have two options, up or right. I walk along the hallway, moving deeper down the corridor when I spy an empty bathroom.
Locking myself inside, I use the facilities. I’m washing my hands when footsteps sound in the hallway, but whoever is on the other side of the door doesn’t knock.
“I told you I can’t keep doing this,” a voice says in hushed urgency. “There is an agreement in place, which I would advise you don’t break because I don’t like people forcing my hand,” he states, and I realize I know that voice. I would know it in my sleep. It’s Elian Donati. “Black Mountain is off limits to you. I’m not playing kids games with you. What happened is done, it’s over, and you need to come to terms with it.”
I wait for a response, but all I get is silence. He’s obviously talking on the phone, and he doesn’t sound happy. I shouldn’t be listening in on his conversation, it’s private, but I can’t help myself. Pressing myself against the door, I lean in and close my eyes in an attempt to focus on his voice.
“That night is over and done. A mistake that I will not repeat. I made a vow to move forward, and I always keep my promises.” He sounds angry. The words are practically growled. I wonder if this man ever smiles. “Don’t contact me again.” The threat hangs in his words, and I can’t stop the ice from trickling down my spine.
When it’s quiet once more, I take a long, deep breath before opening the door, thinking he’s gone, but the moment it whooshes open, I’m met with a glare that scalds me with its heat. My stomach drops to my feet, and I suddenly feel nervous.
“I-I-I’m sorry. I was in here,” I mumble, pointing at the bathroom. The rage in his gaze rips me to shreds, and I’m sure if he could touch me, his hands would do the same. His dark brow arches upward, as if he’s assessing my words, questioning if I was listening or not. “I’m sorry.”
“You seem to apologize a lot,” he bites out before taking a step toward me, which has my back hitting the door behind me.
When Elian leans in, his spicy, masculine scent envelops me with warmth, and I can’t stop myself from inhaling it deeply. This man affects me more than I’d care to admit, and when his lips brush over my ear, I shiver.
“Perhaps next time you should be careful of eavesdropping on people. It’s rude.” Before I can find my retort, he’s pushing away from me and moving down the hallway, leaving me gaping at his retreating form.
What the fuck just happened?
Any lingering doubts about wanting and liking Elian Donati that I’ve been cultivating in my mind are gone in that moment. He’s rude. He’s an overconfident asshole. And if I ever come into contact with him in a personal capacity again, I’ll make sure to tell him so.
7
Elian
Bringing the drink to my lips, I sip on the harsh alcohol, enjoying the burn, while my eyes are locked on Arabella. The way her hips sway. How her ass jiggles and those beautiful tits bounce is sinful, distracting. I shouldn’t be watching her, yet I can’t look away. Ahren knew; he planned this right down to the fucking T. He knows my type because he’s seen me with women while we were living in Miami, and Arabella is most certainly it. Everything about her is what I consider perfection. But he doesn’t realize who she is and just why she’s captured my attention.
“She’s quite the temptress. I can’t deny she’s gorgeous,” Ahren says as he joins me on the porch. The tiki torches light up the expanse of the garden. With the blue illumination coming from the swimming pool, it allows the mock dance floor to shine, giving me the perfect view of Arabella.
“I want to know about her. But you’re going to do it for me,” I tell him as she spins on her heel, her eyes finding mine like a magnet drawn to its polar. I hold her gaze for a moment before tilting my glass in a cheers toward her before taking another long swallow. The burn trickles down my throat, warming my stomach, and I know I need to leave soon. The longer I stay, the more I watch her, the more I’m entranced. She isn’t going to be easy to walk away from.
“Date night?” Ahren asks, his voice dropping to a whisper, but the excitement in his tone is obvious. He enjoys playing games, just like I do, but this one is different.
“Yeah. Just test the waters. I need to know if she’s easily swayed,” I tell him. Even though I shouldn’t do this, because the last time Ahren and I took a girl, it turned out to be a mistake. But I have a feeling Arabella is different. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell him. Now that he knows what to do, I can go home. Silence is something I need right now, to figure out how this could even work. I want her, there’s no denying it, and when I want something, I always get it.
The only question is—would she want the darkness I crave?
“Are you leaving so soon, teach?” Ahren questions when I set the glass down, my focus tugged away from my dancing temptress to my foster brother. The grin on his face is evidence enough just how much he’d like me to linger. And I must be honest with myself. I want to be near her. It’s ridiculous, but the more I watch her dancing, the harder I want to fuck her and make her scream my name. I chalk it up to lust. Pure and simple.
She’s too young for me. And this will be a fling for her.
Time to break
some rules.
“Yeah, you’ve got this.” I don’t look at him when I tell him this.
Even though it would be nice to stay, to act as if I’m one of them, I’m not. I know Ahren will look out for her, so I’m not worried about leaving. But what does bother me is if she ended up with some college kid who wanted the same thing I do—to get into her panties.
But it’s not my place to stop her. I’m not a parent, and I’m certainly not her boyfriend. When Arabella walked out of the bathroom, her eyes wide on mine, I almost lost my shit. The phone call had put me in a foul mood, and this pretty little thing isn’t helping one bit.
“Keep an eye on them, and don’t do anything stupid,” I warn as I walk by him and catch the slow, predatory grin spreading on his face. He nods. I move into the house, making my way to the exit. There are so many people in every corner of the mansion I’m sure when morning comes, it’s going to look like a bomb hit the place.
I slide into the driver’s seat of my sleek, black Maserati and turn the key in the ignition. I’m pulling out of the parking spot when I see her. She’s walking away from the party, alone, and I know I should leave her to it, but deep down, my gut churns.
I come to a stop right in her path, causing her to stumble backward. Her gray gaze locks on mine, and her face twists in shock. I unlock the passenger door and lean over to push it open.
“What are you doing?” she bites out, attempting to look more grown up than her nineteen years. But she’s had too many drinks, and I’m not allowing her to walk alone. Even though Black Mountain is safe.
“Taking you home,” I snap while waiting for Arabella to set her pert little ass in the seat. I realize I’m angry because she’s tipsy. She shouldn’t be drinking if she can’t handle her liquor. And even though I know why she’s doing it, I still want to spank her pert ass.