by Dani René
“Pick her up tomorrow, take her on a ride, stop at the cabin, and then wait until it’s late,” I say. “There’s a storm coming, if you can just keep her there for a few days at most.” I don’t like this, but it must be done. She came back when she was supposed to stay away. I can’t have Arabella see her, talk to her, learn about who I really am. The little psycho was obsessed. I thought it was an innocent crush, one that would go away, but it became more. It turned dangerous.
Granted, she didn’t tell Ahren, or he wouldn’t be talking to me right now. But I have a feeling she’ll most definitely tell Arabella, and that will only end in disaster.
“Fine.” Ahren doesn’t sound happy, but this needs to be done.
Just a few days.
That’s all I need.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
24
HER
THE PAST
The darkness is where I’m best hidden. I watch him. This time it’s a different woman. She’s nothing like the last one. Anger surges through me. And I’m tempted to walk in there, to break his happy night apart. I picture it now. Me storming in to tell the whore to leave, and when I do, he’ll hate-fuck me against the wall.
A smile spreads across my face when I think about it. He may send me away, but he can’t deny that there’s a connection between us. Even if he tries to fight it, I know he can’t. He’s trying to replace me with every woman in this fucking godforsaken town, and I hate it. Why can’t he see just how perfect we are together?
I’ll ensure he learns it soon. I’ve never wanted anyone like him, and the promise he made that night, to make me scream, to make me come all over his hands and cock, he still needs to make good on that.
The games he plays are hurtful, but he has to learn that when you toy with another person’s emotions, there are repercussions. I grip the knife in my hand. The sleek steel is cold, and I enjoy the ache that comes with the hold I have on it.
A smile graces my lips as I think about watching her bleed out. The thought of her neck being slashed makes every part of my body tingle with happiness.
Soon, Elian.
Soon you’ll be mine and nobody else’s.
25
Arabella
The moment I step foot in his class, I know I’m going to have a hard time not remembering what we did on the phone last night. Each day of coming to his class has been difficult because I know just how much I am liking him. He feeds my inner monster, the girl who craves what he can offer. Most women are too afraid to admit they enjoy the darker side of sex. And even at nineteen, I’m still ashamed at times. But with Elian, I feel free.
When I sit in the front row, the corners of his mouth kick up into a grin so salacious my stomach somersaults as I wonder just what’s going through his head. Marleigh joins me, slipping in beside me.
“Hey, babe.”
“Hey, gorge,” Marleigh greets, grinning like she most probably just got laid. She must have because her cheeks are flushed and her lips are swollen. I wonder if Alistor was here, dropping her off. “What a night,” she tells me, and I realize my suspicions are true.
When one of the boys from class steps up to the desk I’m sitting in, it’s Elian who speaks up. “Allow Ms. Davenport to sit up front. She’s not overly focused on her work, and I’d like to keep an eye on her.” His voice is tainted with amusement.
Embarrassment burns my cheeks as everyone in the class turns to look at me. I want the floor to swallow me whole right now. I can’t believe he just said and did that. The amusement in his stare dances like flames in a gentle breeze. His mouth quirks into a sinful smirk, a challenge. He’s waiting for me to retort, to say something I might regret later, but I’m not going to give him the benefit of seeing that.
“Right, class,” he says as he turns to the board. There’s an iPad set up on the side of his desk, and even though I’m sitting comfortably, I have a feeling I know why it’s there. “Today, we’re going to watch a movie,” he tells us before connecting the device to a cable. With a remote in hand, he clicks on the projector, and we’re soon in a dimly lit classroom.
“This is going to be a fun hour, so sit back and pay attention,” Elian informs us as he takes a look around the class, but when he settles in for the show, I realize why he asked me to forego underwear. He sits on the tabletop, and as the movie starts, I can’t tear my eyes away from him. But it’s his gaze trailing down, all the way to my legs where I know he can see under the short black skirt.
I’m almost certain he can feel me looking at him. There’s no doubt, but I can’t drag my attention to the screen. It’s an old, black-and-white movie I have no interest in seeing. After a moment, he turns his head, his eyes boring into me as he lifts his hand, placing his index finger on his lips, then, ever so slowly, his tongue peeks out, and the reminder of him tasting me hits me with full force.
Snapping my gaze toward the screen, I feel my cheeks burn as the moment replays in my mind. Characters on the screen move about, they talk, and they act their hearts out, but my focus is not at all on the storyline.
It’s on my teacher.
The bell rings shrilly, shocking me out of my stupor, and the lights go on, blinding us all as the screen is turned off and we’re shot back to reality. If you asked me what that was about, I couldn’t tell you, because the whole hour was spent with the heat of Elian so close, yet so damn far.
“Arabella, can I see you before you leave?” Elian asks in a controlled, professional tone, and as the students file out, I pack my backpack and say my “see you later” to Marleigh before I head to Elian’s desk.
He’s working on papers, grading them with a dark-red marker. For a moment, I wonder why he’s here. He could’ve been sitting at the pool, sipping a drink, not slaving over the students’ essays. I have to ask him soon. I want to learn all there is to know about him, and I hope tonight we’re able to talk.
“Is there a problem?”
“Tonight, at six, I want you at my house,” he speaks as he circles a large red A on the white page. When he finally looks up, I grin, noticing how handsome he looks with glasses on. It’s only for a few moments that he wears them, but it most definitely makes him hotter.
“Okay, I can do that.”
He reaches for something under his desk before looking up at me. “Shower at home, and wear what’s in that box under your clothes.” His chin gestures to a box he sets on the desktop, one I noticed when I walked in peeking out from under his desk.
“What is that?”
“Open it when you get home.” It’s not an entirely large box, so I can only imagine what’s inside. Lingerie, something tiny because nothing I would usually wear would fit in a box like this.
“Do you have any preference on what I wear? Clothing wise?”
“No.” The word is curt, yet there’s a hint of the desire I heard last night. “Because you won’t be wearing it for very long after you walk into my home.”
A small smile creeps on my face. “So, this is a date?” I know I shouldn’t ask; he has made it clear that he only wants sex, and even though I’m fine with that, I can’t stop myself from the wishful thinking that’s taken over me.
Elian stops what he’s doing to look up at me. His eyes lock on mine, and I almost expect him to scream and shout, but he shocks me by grinning.
“It could be,” he says. “Who knows just how much I’ll do to have you on top of me?” he continues, which earns himself an eye roll from me. Just when I thought he was being nice. “I told you, I don’t date, but let’s not rule anything out. Okay?”
“Okay.” I nod before taking the box, shouldering my backpack, and heading for the door. I stop on the threshold and glance at him, expecting him to be looking at his work, but instead, his stare is on me. “See you later.” I keep my voice low since there are people outside the classroom.
I don’t wait for a response. On the quad, Marleigh comes racing for me, and I know she’s going to ask about him keeping me a
fter class. Her eyes are shimmering with questions, her expression glinting with knowing.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you and teach,” she hisses in my ear when we’re far enough away from everyone else.
“Shh.” I don’t know why I’m shushing her because nobody heard, but just the thought of someone finding out scares the living crap out of me. I’m still nervous as my thoughts take me to tonight. I don’t know just what he expects of me. I’m not even sure what’s in the box, and the unknown is scarier than watching something unfold right before you.
“Are you seriously dating Donati?” Her voice is barely a whisper, but the question has me looking around, even though we’ve moved to the opposite side of the quad where nobody ever comes.
The problem with thinking you’re safe is that usually you’re not. I look at Marleigh who’s practically salivating at the thought of Elian and me being a couple. But what do I tell her? No, we’re just fucking. Even to my ears it sounds as if he’s using me when I believe it’s the other way around.
“We’re not exactly dating,” I finally admit. My chest clenches, my heart rate spiking when I see him walking down the steps toward the parking lot. He looks so good, and that’s where the problem lies. Even though I know I’m a beautiful girl, deep down I still wonder why he chose me.
“Come on, you have to give me something?” Marleigh pleads just as Elian glances at us. He tips his head to the side, a small grin on his face, but it’s not amusement. He’s waiting for me to say something. He can’t hear us, he’s too far away, but I have a feeling he’s going to read my lips.
“Nothing. There’s honestly nothing going on,” I tell her as I tear my gaze away from him. A lie. They’re always lies. Everything in my life has been one lie after another.
“Well,” she responds, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s watching us. “If anything happens, I need to know. For research purposes,” Marleigh tacks on playfully, causing me to laugh.
Elian walks off, slides into the driver’s seat of a sleek, black Maserati I recognize. Only at a place like this do teachers drive million-dollar cars. I lock my gaze on my friend again and smile.
“You’ll be the first to know.”
It’s a promise I can’t keep, but I make it anyway. I’m getting myself into shit. Deep fucking shit, but the need that courses through me each time I’m near him is alarming. And I can’t fight the desire I feel for him. Not anymore.
I want him, and I’ve learned that I can always get what I want.
Even if it hurts me in the end.
26
Arabella
“You came,” Elian says as if he wasn’t expecting me. I’m not sure what I walked into, but tension hangs heavily in the air. I’m wearing the underwear he purchased for me, and the heightened anticipation that shimmies through me as I move makes me squirm.
I decided on a sleek black dress, which hangs to my feet and covers the beautiful lingerie set Elian wanted me to wear. The exquisite lace hugs my body. Panties that should be made illegal cup my pussy and cut along the cheeks of my ass. The bra is perfectly fitted against my breasts, and along the nipples are smooth pearls sewn delicately into the fabric that rub against my hardened buds with every move I make.
I smile. “You invited me,” I remind him. My nerves have gotten the better of me, and as I tangle my fingers in front of me, I notice how those blue orbs spark as they take me in from head to toe. I haven’t really looked at the living room, but under the scrutiny of Elian Donati, I cast my gaze over the room.
The furniture is all black suede, and a large fireplace sits against one wall opposite the couches. Silver illuminates the room as moonlight shimmers through the window, lighting the gray carpet, which is thick and looks so soft.
He doesn’t say anything about my dress. Instead, he asks, “Would you like a drink?”
“I don’t like the hard stuff. Anything light?” I reply with a grin on my face. I don’t want to remind him that I’m barely nineteen, and I most definitely don’t want him thinking about it when he takes this dress off. Because all that’s racing through my mind is what his reaction will be when he sees the gift he bought for me.
“I have white wine, or you can have a vodka with juice?” he offers, a smirk forming on his lips, and I squirm at how he makes me feel. How his movements affect the butterflies in my stomach.
I can’t help but smile. “Aren’t you meant to be advising me not to drink?” I arch a brow as he turns to face me fully.
“Can I reform a little deviant like you?” Elian challenges with a quirk of his dark eyebrow. He regards me with amusement, and I take him in slowly, noting just how handsome he is.
Tipping my head to the side, I counter, “Do you want to?” There’s something powerful about having a man look at me like he’s doing right now. As if he wants to devour me, but he’s holding onto a shred of restraint that makes my body tremble.
I’m almost sure seeing him lose control will be a site. Strong, brutal, and nearly violent. The idea makes my thighs clench. I’m challenging him, but it’s impossible to stop myself. There’s a seductiveness about Elian I like seeing when he looks at me.
“Make no mistake. You being here, my little deviant, doesn’t mean you’re in control. I’m the one who will hold your pleasure in my hands, and I’ll enjoy watching you squirm under my touch.” His gaze trails from my eyes, over my lips, down my chest, all the way to my feet before snapping back to my face.
He takes a few seemingly controlled steps toward me, meticulously calculated, so by the time he reaches me, I’m breathless, waiting for the monster to attack. Elian reaches up, his hand tangling in my hair, and with a gentle tug, a gasp falls from my lips when he leans in. His face is inches from mine, his warm breath fanning over my mouth, and for a moment, all I want is for him to kiss me. If I move, my lips will most certainly be against his, but just like the night in the car, he doesn’t come closer.
“Now, would you like a drink?” he whispers, the words feathering themselves over me, causing goosebumps to rise on every inch of my skin.
“Yes, please.” My murmur is nothing more than a tormented plea. The smirk that graces Elian’s lips makes my stomach flip-flop wildly. He releases me, steps back, and leaves me in the living room without another word.
I turn to the room, making my way to the fireplace where I find three framed photos. One picture of a beach has Elian standing on the cream-colored sand grinning at whoever took the photo. He’s in a pair of shorts and a tank top, so I can’t see his body, but from the broadness of his shoulders and the heavyset muscles, I’m almost certain his torso will be chiseled to perfection.
The other is one of him and Ahren grinning at whoever is taking the photo, but the last one is of an older man. I can only guess it is Elian’s dad because there’s a slight resemblance with the dark hair and similar color eyes. His mouth, though, it’s pursed in a severe line, as if he’s angry at the world. Much like Elian is at times.
When Elian returns, he’s holding a glass of white wine. “Something light, and you’re only allowed one,” he tells me in an authoritative tone, which makes me smile. I can’t believe I’m here, in his house, having a drink with him. It feels slightly surreal.
“Thank you.” I take a sip of the chilled liquid, and a burst of citrus flavors takes hold. It’s delicious, and I tell him so. “This is a really good wine.”
“And you’re an expert, little deviant?” he teases before tipping the tumbler he refilled and swallowing the honey-colored alcohol.
“Not an expert, but I know enough about the world of alcohol and drugs to last me a lifetime,” I admit. Even though he’s my teacher and I should probably not tell him all of this, I have a feeling my file already has the information I’m about to spew. “I’ve done bad things as a teenager, rebelled because of the world I grew up around, but I’m not … bad.”
Elian regards me with a look that leaves me breathless. His shrewd, narrow gaze holds me in place, as
if he’s trying to gauge if I’m telling the truth or not. For a long while, we stare at each other in silence before he speaks.
“Tell me about the night you got plastered across the media,” he says as he settles in one of the armchairs, resting his left ankle over his right knee.
“I don’t—”
“I want to know what your version of the story is,” he interrupts. So, he has read everything in my file.
“I was drunk, we were out partying, and things got messy. The night before, I was called into my father’s office like I was one of his colleagues. He and my mother agreed that I would be sent away. A wayward teenager out of control. I was angry, and I did something stupid. It was a mistake I will not be repeating ever again.”
Even though that’s only part of the story I’m comfortable telling, Elian nods as if he’s satisfied with my recollection. He sips his drink and continues staring at me.
“Now tell me the truth,” he says suddenly. Leaning back in the chair, he grins when my mouth opens, then closes. “You can’t lie to me, and you can’t withhold information. If we’re going to do this, you need to be honest. I have to know all those dark, little secrets you keep hidden behind those pretty, gray eyes.”
“The past is just that,” I tell him. “It’s something I’ve walked away from. Surely that’s something you can understand.” A glint of frustration sparks in his stare, the blue reminding me of the ocean, deep and endless.
“Take off your dress,” he orders suddenly, taking the topic of conversation away from my past and knocking it right into the present. He glowers when I don’t immediately obey. “I don’t like repeating myself.”
I set the glass down, never breaking eye contact with him. Slowly, torturously, I tug the hem up to my thighs. The higher it inches, the darker those cerulean orbs turn, and as the dress hitches past my hips, they’re almost black. His pupils dilate, and I can hardly see the endless pools.