by Dani René
She crosses her arms over her chest, and I can’t help my gaze trailing there where I get a glimpse of her cleavage peeking over the neckline of her too-short dress. “I’m not your responsibility.”
“Well, you should be someone’s fucking responsibility. Now get your ass in the car before I get out and put you in myself.” My words leave no room for argument. And for a moment, I expect her to refuse me. She looks pissed enough to tell me to go to hell, but after a long moment, she sighs before slipping into the passenger seat beside me.
“I don’t like being treated like a child,” she tells me, but she’s looking straight ahead.
I lock the doors before speeding out of Alistor’s driveway. “If you don’t act like a child, you won’t be treated like one,” I grit out. Frustration has taken a hold of me, and even though I know I’m being a dick to her, I can’t help it.
My teeth are clenched so hard my jaw ticks, but I grind down to calm myself. It’s not the frustration that she’s tipsy; it’s the fact that I notice just how short her dress is. The hemline slipping up her smooth, creamy thigh. The scent of her fucking strawberry shampoo, or perfume, or whatever the fuck it is envelops my car, and I know I won’t get that delicious fragrance out any time soon.
“It’s scary how short life is,” she speaks in a sobering tone, still looking directly through the window in front of us. “It’s fragile, so easily broken.” Her words have a slight slur, but she’s keeping herself upright, her focus on the road ahead. I sneak glances over at her, taking in the sadness painted on her expression.
“Yes, I know.” My answer is clipped, and I don’t mean to be rude because I know why she’s brought it up, but I’m not sure how to deal with my attraction to her. We’re forbidden—by rules, by the place I work. And she’s barely fucking legal. She’s not mine to claim.
“My parents taught me to pray to God. They told me he’s good and he’ll keep me safe always, and then, guess what he does? He takes the only person who ever loved me away.” Her voice sounds so damn sad I have second thoughts about what I want, about the plan.
I cast a glance over at her and notice the tears that trickle from her eyes.
“I mean, my aunt loves me, but I’m not hers. She didn’t give birth to me.” A sob falls from her lips, and I want nothing more than to hold her, to tell her life goes on, but I can’t. I don’t.
After her breakdown, the silence that fills the car is stifling. Perhaps I should tell her I lost my father too. Maybe I can console her, but that would mean touching her, feeling her, and I can’t do that. A man only has so much restraint, and right now, mine is flimsy with her so close.
I don’t have to ask where she lives. I recall her address from the folder Dawson left on my desk and find the house easily. It’s smaller than mine, but it’s not a place to be frowned upon. Sitting on six acres more or less of land, the gardens are vast. The three-level mansion is built in a modern style with open brick in a soft brown and cream-colored awnings. The windows are all lit up with a golden glow, and I wonder why her aunt needs something this big for just the two of them.
I pull to a stop outside the gate, then turn to Arabella. Her eyes are glassy, her lips swollen and pouty, which has my mind filling with illicit thoughts.
“Look, you’re young, and I know how much it hurts to lose people you love, people you thought would always be around. But you must remember, they wouldn’t want you throwing your life away.” My words seem to hang in the air between us. Her eyes search my face from my eyes down to my lips, and each time she glances at my mouth, I notice how her pupils dilate. I want nothing more than to steal her mouth with mine. But I sit back, as far away from her as I possibly can in the car.
“Don’t pretend to care after being such an asshole back at the party,” she spits with fire blazing in every word. “I don’t like fake people, smiling to my face and scowling at my back, and for the record, I don’t want people treating me with kid gloves.” Her eyes lock on mine. She watches me for a long while.
“I’m no gentleman, Arabella,” I whisper, never dropping my gaze, holding hers hostage for a moment too long. I want her to look right into me. I want her to see the dark parts of me I know will scare her away.
“I don’t run away as easily as other girls might, Mr. Donati,” she informs me with a soft smile on her lips. They curve upward at the corners, and her eyes shine with a challenge that has me leaning forward. A gasp tumbles from those plump lips as they part with surprise at my actions.
I lift my hand, tangling my fingers through the long locks of her hair, feeling the softness of the golden tresses, and I grip them harshly. I earn myself another dick-jolting whimper.
“Don’t tempt me, little deviant,” I growl, low and feral, and she shivers at my words. “This isn’t a game. No matter how much you try, I won’t allow you to run this show. And to be clear, I’m not always one for breaking rules, but with you, I might make an exception.”
This time, only the corner of her mouth turns into a grin. Her tongue darts out, licking her lower lip, wetting it just like I want to. “I’m not afraid of men like you,” she tells me. “I’ve seen my fair share of bad men, and they don’t scare me.”
“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Arabella,” I warn her once more, wanting her to fear me. I need her to, or I’ll end up doing something I really shouldn’t be doing—claiming her lips with my own.
She leans forward, her mouth inches from mine, and I can practically taste her purity. “What if I wasn’t playing a game?” she challenges, her hot breath caressing over my face, and my cock hardens in my slacks. The zipper causing pain in my crotch from just how fucking hard she’s making me. I release her hair but grip her face between my thumb and forefinger, holding her close.
“A deviant with angel’s wings,” I muse. “You have no idea what you’re doing. Playing adult games, and you’re only a nineteen-year-old girl. I was being nice giving you a lift home, but—”
“I thought you weren’t nice. Make up your mind about what you want, Mr. Donati.” She whispers my name with condescending sweetness. “Thank you for the lift. I’ll see you in class on Monday.” She tugs free, pushing open the passenger door, and shutting it with a bang before sashaying toward the house. I watch her for a moment, how her hips sway, how her hair flicks left to right, and how those slender legs move.
I wait until she’s inside the house, no doubt frustrated from our interaction. However, I’m anything but. I’m more turned on than I’ve been in a long fucking while. She thinks she can handle this game, but I’ll make sure my little deviant works her ass off just to please me.
8
HER
THE PAST
I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but I craved the attention, the touch of his fingertips as they trailed over my skin. In the darkness of the room, he wasn’t him and I wasn’t me. We were strangers, drenching ourselves in sin.
And I’ve never felt so good.
I said yes to him when I should’ve said no.
I don’t at all regret it.
The door clicks, and I watch as he moves through the room. I don’t breathe for a moment because I can’t deny just how beautiful he is. Everything about him is perfect. From his broad shoulders to the finely chiseled dips and peaks of his torso.
My fingertips tingle to touch them. To feel his smooth skin under my hands. I want to trace my tongue along the V that snakes from his hips down into tight boxer briefs. I can’t look away, committing him to memory because I know I’m not going to be here for long.
The thoughts in my mind swill and spin. I should be at home, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see him once more. The door opens again, allowing light to stream through the bedroom, and she walks in. Long, dark hair cascading down her shoulders.
Jealousy burns through me, reminding me of the humanity that lies within me. The emotions that I usually push to the back of my mind. I don’t like feeling these things, but he promised me it was
us and nobody else.
They move together. His arms slip around her waist as she grips his shoulders, much like I did just last night. It’s wrong. It’s immoral. But the deviance I’ve become well acquainted with doesn’t want to leave me be. So, instead of hiding it, I now bask in it.
They kiss, their mouths fuse, their tongues tangle, and his hands slip down to her ass. My clit throbs at the image before me. I want to touch myself just like he’s touching her. His hands grip her harshly, her whimpers can be heard from my spot at the window, and I can’t stop my fingers from toying with my heated center through my panties and my yoga pants. I bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud.
They fall to the bed where he fucked me last night, and between the desire and jealousy, my blood runs hot as they enjoy each other. I wait until he’s inside her. I watch until she moans his name quietly.
And then I turn and run.
9
Arabella
Frustration ebbs and flows through me as I walk to school. I could’ve taken one of my aunt’s cars, but I needed time to think. Saturday night in the car with Elian has replayed in my mind more times than I care to count. And even now as I make my way down the hill toward school, I can’t stop thinking about his hand in my hair and how his hot breath fanned over my skin.
I won’t admit how many times my hand snaked into my panties over the past couple of days. He’s affected me. There’s a dangerous allure to him that I want to play with, that I want to see come out.
Elian Donati may be forbidden, bad news all wrapped up in a perfectly tailored suit, but I do love a challenge. I was brought up in a world of lies and smiles, and I can play these so-called adult games as well as the next person.
I may be young, but I’m more mature than most of the girls my age. I’m about ten minutes from school when the rumble of a motorbike catches my attention. The sound slows to a stop beside me, and I turn to find Ahren grinning at me.
“Pretty girl,” he says, tipping his fingers in a mock-salute greeting. “Can I offer you a ride?” His dark brow arches, and I want to admonish him for not wearing a helmet, but I realize he’s holding it out to me. I take the item offered and slip it on. It’s not far to school, but it would be nice to get there early.
I slide my leg over, settling in behind him, and he guns the engine, causing the vibration to slither up my legs, then my spine, all the way through every inch of me. Once my arms are wrapped around his waist, he pulls away, speeding down the road which leads to the school.
I wonder if Marleigh is with Alistor or if she’s at school. After leaving the party, I didn’t hear from her, even though I did send her a few text messages. I know she specifically went to the house for him, and I hope she’s okay.
After Ahren pulls into a spot, he kills the engine and helps me off the bike. I pull off his helmet, handing it back to him before asking, “Do you know if Marleigh is okay?”
“Yeah,” Ahren says with a chuckle. “She’s been holed up in Alistor’s bedroom all weekend. Probably can’t walk straight at this point.” His teasing tone makes me laugh.
“Ah, well that’s sort of good, I guess.”
Dark eyes lock on mine. It looks like he wants to say something, and I almost expect him to mention his brother, but he shakes his head. “I better get to work. How about you come hang out with me on Friday night?”
Hang out.
Friday night.
My usual party night. If I were back home.
“Is this a date? Or are you just being friendly?”
“Why can’t it be both?” he asks, those dark eyes—that are nothing like his brother’s—twinkle with mischief.
Nodding, I find myself agreeing. “I’d have to ask my aunt, but I don’t see it being a problem as long as it’s not a wild party.” Ahren is gorgeous with boyish charm and a cocky wink. He looks at me with desire swirling in his gaze, and for a moment, I wonder if he’d be a better fit for me than Elian. He seems nice enough. Perhaps I should give him a chance.
“Great. I’ll pick you up at six, and wear something comfortable.” He trails those dark eyes over me from my head to my school skirt, which I’ve paired with knee-high black socks and shoes.
“I can do that,” I tell him as I head toward the quad. “Oh … and thank you for the lift.” I smile at him from over my shoulder, catching him looking at my ass. He doesn’t come across as remorseful for his gawking when he shrugs and dons his helmet. Boys will be boys, I guess.
And for the first time since I arrived here, I truly believe Black Mountain may be good for me.
The first time I step into the library since I started at Black Mountain Academy I’m in awe. The room is massive, with windows that allow natural sunlight to stream into the space. There are rows and rows of books. Compared to my old school, this place is a sanctuary if ever I saw one.
Since I have a free hour, I grab a few history books for my paper and settle into a chair. Even though it’s written, there are a few facts I want to recheck to make sure they’re correct. I want to impress Elian, and even though he is an asshole, I want him to see that I’m competent and I deserve a good grade for the effort I put into my schoolwork.
If only he wasn’t my history teacher. Having someone I loathe teach me my favorite subject is annoying as all hell. But what I decided yesterday was to put all my focus into getting straight As in his class. Then he’d have no reason to treat me like an immature little girl.
Losing myself in the books, I work on my paper, tweaking and changing dates that need to be amended. I don’t notice anyone else in my space until a shadow crosses over me and I’m snapping my head up to find teal eyes locked on me.
“What are you doing here?”
The corner of his mouth ticks up into a wolfish grin. “I work here. I’m allowed to be in any room I please,” he tells me with an air of confidence and superiority. Asshole. “Catching up on your homework?” His gaze snakes over my work.
“No. As a matter of fact, I finished my paper yesterday. I’m just making sure I have all the dates correct.” My voice is a rushed whisper of frustration, and with the expression I get in response from Elian, I have a feeling he’s enjoying my squirming.
“Then you have nothing to worry about,” he tells me coolly. “I’ll see you in a few minutes in my class, Ms. Davenport.” He turns and walks away, leaving me glaring at his back. I don’t know how this man can infuriate me so much. It’s as if he’s always looking at me like I’m about to fuck something up.
Granted, my past is dotted with a few bad choices, but that’s where I’ve left them—in the past. I’m not that girl anymore. My aunt has given me a new lease on life, and I don’t plan on repeating my mistakes.
I pack up the moment the bell rings and head out into the hallway into a crowd of students all rushing to their next class. As my footsteps click along the floor, I think about where I’m headed. Even though my paper is ready and I’m confident it’s worthy of an A, maybe a B-plus, I have a feeling Elian is going to be harsher on grading mine than any of the other students.
When I reach his class, Melody is leaning over his desk, giggling at something she’s just said, but those eyes, those iridescent pools of ocean blue, pierce me from over her shoulder, and I don’t even think she noticed.
I can’t say I’m jealous. I can’t admit that at all. As I move through the classroom to my desk, I can feel his stare on me. It’s as if we’re magnets and he’s attached himself to my soul. I have never been so flayed by someone by a mere glance.
I settle in my chair, catching his gaze the moment I look up, blue against steel. Once Melody leaves his desk, realizing she’s no longer the object of his attention, I find myself trembling. Heat trails through me when Elian rises and moves to stand before us. Everything about this man has been perfected. From his broad shoulders to his tapered waist, and his chiseled features that would make any Greek god weep. Right down to the minute details, like even his shirt matches those endless pools of blue, a
nd there’s not a crease to be seen.
“Thank you all for joining me today,” he says, his deep voice rumbling through each of us, affecting me more than I’d like. “I’ve gone through your papers on how you think history is relevant to modern society. I have to say I’m impressed at the level of interest and the way you all approached the subject.”
A smile tilts his lips. It’s slight, but it’s there. I can’t look away. As much as I know I should perhaps give Ahren a chance, I can’t stop the attraction to his brother. Both Donati men seem to have a power over me, and I can’t fight it.
But I don’t want to be another giggly schoolgirl wanting her teacher, and I don’t want to be another notch in Ahren’s bedpost. It’s not who I am. Elian turns to the blackboard, and I know it’s time to focus on classwork rather than my raging teenage hormones. Sighing, I sit back and pick up my pencil. Time to take notes.
10
Arabella
The week has passed in a haze of classes and homework. Of papers and research, but I’ve enjoyed every moment. When I make my way downstairs, I find Aunt Midge sitting at the dining room table, poring through pages of documents.
“Hi,” I greet, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek.
“How’s my favorite niece?” she asks, offering me a smile as she sits back and sets her pen down. The amount of paperwork looks daunting, but I settle in beside her.
“I’m good. A little nervous for this date.”
“It’s not some party you’re going to is it?”
Shaking my head, I assure her, “No. Ahren Donati is taking me out. We’re just going for a drive. He’s going to show me the town.”
She watches me for a long while before nodding. “Fine. Be home at ten.”