First Love: A Superbundle Boxed Set of Seven New Adult Romances (160 page)

Rosy color warms her cheeks. “You don’t clean up bad yourself.”

The apartment door opens, and Dougie waves. Doesn’t anyone knock before coming into my place anymore?

“Holy Mama! You look great.” He kisses Chelsea on the cheek.
 

She rolls her eyes, but a giant smile lights up her face.

 
“You all ready?” Dougie asks, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair. Even in a tux, he still looks like he belongs on a beach, soaking up sun, salt, and sexy surfer girls.

Chelsea hands Angel a small black-sequined purse to borrow, then we all file downstairs. I keep one hand under Angel’s elbow to make sure she doesn’t trip on the steps in those heels, but she’s steady and doesn’t really need my help.

The limo I chartered waits for us in front of the bar, and Angel turns to me as Dougie and Chelsea slide in. “Diamonds, a limo. You’re spoiling me too much.”

No such thing. “The limo is so we can all drink, without worrying who is going to drive. And the diamonds mark you as mine.” I wink, mostly teasing.

She scoots across the leather, leaving room between her and Dougie and Chelsea, who are already snuggling at the far end of the car. My thigh presses against hers, and I wrap one arm around her shoulders, keeping her close. Her perfume—light, not quite floral but definitely feminine—draws me even closer, and I drop my face to the nape of her neck, lightly nuzzling. “You smell seriously edible.”

Her soft sigh encourages me, and I brazenly run the tip of my tongue over the rim of her ear, carefully avoiding the earring.
 

“Holy shit,” Dougie says, interrupting me.

“What?” I growl, without moving my face away from Angel. She shifts uncomfortably, angling away from me, and I grudgingly straighten in my seat but leave my arm around her shoulders.

“I just wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it for myself. My god man, you’re acting almost normal.”

Dougie’s never seen me with a girl I gave a shit about because I’d never been with one until Angel got here. I’ve known for years she was the only one I wanted. Anyone I was with was just a means to pass the time. Now, here with Angel, I don’t want to pass time, I want to hold on to every moment. “Careful, Doug, or you’ll be walking home so I can enjoy my girlfriend in peace.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize what I’ve said, and her startled gasp punctuates it. Chelsea and Dougie are both gaping at us now. Shit. I’m watching her face, trying to judge her reaction, but I can’t see what she’s thinking. Her shoulders have stiffened though. Not a good sign. “Sorry.” I shrug, trying to play it off as my mind scrambles.

Her lower lip trembles. “No. It’s fine. I know we’re—What we are is hard to find words for. I wouldn’t really know how to explain it.” Her lashes drop, hooding her eyes behind shadowed lids.

I take her hand in mine, squeezing. “Good thing we don’t owe anyone an explanation.” I’m just thankful she didn’t freak. Maybe she’s coming around to the idea that being my girlfriend wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I know she’s scared to commit to me, because of what happened with her and Nick. But whether she commits or not, I swear nothing like that will ever happen to her again.

Twenty Five

Angel

Arion’s words are still ricocheting through my brain, destroying my self-confidence with every bounce.
His girlfriend.
Am I ready to be his girlfriend? And what was with Dougie’s reaction? Is it really so strange to see Arion with a girl?

The limo glides into a circular driveway, coming to a stop before a fleet of marble steps, lined with maroon carpet. Arion slides out first, then offers me his hand. His fingers are cool as they grip mine, and I inwardly cringe at how clammy my own feel. “You’ve nothing to be nervous about,” he murmurs in my ear, sending a thrill of yearning racing through my bloodstream. How he can instantly put me at ease with just one touch, one simple statement, I’ll never understand. I both hate and love how easily and potently he affects me.

I know people call tuxes penguin suits, but they must never have seen Arion. He’s the picture of elegance, yet beneath it there is a dangerous, mysterious edge. James Bond has nothing on him. He keeps my hand clasped against his arm as we make our way up the stairs, into a grand lobby, through an archway and into another lobby with tables lining the walls. Small sculptures and large paintings—each somehow equestrian-related—are displayed on top of silk tablecloths as part of the silent auction. A gentleman in a deep red tux takes the pair of tickets Arion offers, and we continue into the next room.

The grand ballroom is like nothing I’ve ever seen, except in movies. Its gilded cream and gold columns, glistening chandeliers and painted ceiling create a portrait of luxury for the mingling guests. And the guests themselves are a sight to be seen. I think there might be more diamonds in this room than in Buckingham Palace.

“Ostentatious, isn’t it,” Chelsea quips from behind me. “The only thing people with too much money hate are people with more money than them or rubbing elbows with those without any money at all.”

I inwardly cringe. How will I ever fit into this world?

“Stop.” Arion jerks me to him with a sharp tug on my hand, locking his arms around me. “Stop thinking what you are. It isn’t you who’s outclassed. It’s them who will never measure up to you. Got it?” His teeth lightly nip my ear, and I think I might agree to just about anything in that moment.

“Okay.” I accept a glass of champagne from a server in another red tuxedo. The tiny bubbles fizz in my stomach along with my nerves, and I decline when another waiter offers tiny bacon-wrapped shrimp from a tray.
 

“You only have one thing to worry about tonight.” Arion peers down at me, the side of his mouth pulled into an uneven, sexy smile. His eyes gleam, much darker than their normal lighthearted brown.

Anticipation is a rubber cord tethering me toward him as I wait for him to explain. The more I try to extract myself from his heady aura of sex and power and lust, the more his intense gaze pulls me back until I’m once more drowning in how much I want him.
 

“Your only worry is whether or not you care if I rip that pretty little dress of yours when I strip it off you.”

Oh, Christ on a merry-go-round.
 

I’m wet, very wet at just those words, and for a moment, the girl I wish I could be takes over, shoving fearful, hesitant me aside. I stretch up onto my tiptoes, whispering in his ear. “Why worry about the dress at all? I’m not wearing any underwear.”

A low growl rumbles from Arion’s throat as his arm locks behind me, sweeping me toward him. I’m pressed much closer to him than I think I should be in public, but right now I don’t care. The combination of the champagne, Arion’s sexiness and my own teasing have balled together, creating a warmth between my legs, and being pressed to him like this is only stoking the fire.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” He breathes heavily into my ear.

Fear rears its ugly head, choking my words. I shake my head.

“You’ve ensured that you have to stay close to me—exceptionally close to me—for the foreseeable future, unless you want all the other women here to get an eyeful of what you do to me.” He tilts his hips just enough that I can feel the evidence for myself.
 

I let out a heavy breath of my own. “Well, we wouldn’t want that.” I don’t say anything to him about it because I don’t want to ruin this lighthearted, fun mood that’s bouncing between us, but I really needed him to flirt with me like this. I know it sounds silly, considering everything, but he’s been almost too gentle with me since he found out about Nick. I was afraid he wasn’t as attracted to me, and I’d missed his flirting. He’s managed to make me forget most of my nervousness. He always seems to know just what I need.

The first of many other attendees approach us, greeting Arion, inquiring about his father, and tossing me curious glances. With each one, Arion introduces me as Angel, but he offers no explanation for who I am. By the time the awards portion of the evening begins, I’ve had three glasses of champagne, and I’m feeling more than a little tipsy.
 

“I’ve got to go up front and present an award on behalf of my father. Will you be all right here on your own for a few minutes?” He glances around, looking for Chelsea and Dougie, I think, but they’re nowhere to be seen.
 

I bite my lip and nod. “As long as you hurry back.” Alcohol turns the last word into a playful, lighthearted plea, making me giggle.

Arion gives me an amused grin and a brief kiss on the cheek. “Behave yourself.” He strides away, and I take the opportunity to admire his very fine ass as he works his way through the mingling guests. He’s just taken the podium when a voluptuous redhead with too much makeup and not enough clothing sidles up beside me.
 

She wastes no time before showing her claws. “You might be tonight’s flavor, but tomorrow it will be me in his bed. Again.”

I almost take the bait. Almost. But I snap my mouth closed and force my shoulders to shrug, while thinking about scratching that smirk off her lying face. It wouldn’t be worth excavating through all her makeup to find flesh, so I keep my hands to myself and turn my eyes back to the podium.

Dealing with Nick has taught me to remain outwardly calm, even while seething inside. I will not let her get under my skin. Everything I’ve heard from Chelsea and Arion himself suggests that he doesn’t bring women home, and even if he does, they mean nothing to him. I have to believe that not every guy is Nick. They aren’t all liars and snakes. I know Arion, and he wouldn’t lie to me.

The realization that I’m choosing to trust Arion is sudden and absolute. But it’s also true. Realizing I’ve given him a piece of myself and just how vulnerable that makes me to him isn’t as scary as I thought it would be, but that could be the champagne talking.

Red beside me tries again. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but our families are old friends and it’s practically assumed that he and I will get together.”

Keeping a syrupy smile plastered on my face, I incline my head in her direction. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but I can guess that you obviously weren’t listening. There will be a blizzard in the Sahara Desert before he and you get together because I’m not stupid enough to let him go, and I sure as fuck don’t share.” And that definitely wasn’t the champagne talking.

She huffs, crossing her arms across her breasts as her mouth drops open. “Why! I never.”

“You’re right. You never, and you never will.” I bask in self-satisfaction as she storms away. My champagne glass is empty again—is this three or four? I’m not quite sure—and I accept another from a server just as Arion starts to speak, capturing the rapt attention of the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of my father and the entire Pennsylvania Horseman's Prestige Society, thank you for coming. I promise I’ll make this brief. Tonight is about recognizing excellence. Excellence in breeding, excellence in staffing, and excellence in sporting. While many of us have been very fortunate in our business ventures, and we want to recognize that, we are also here for another reason tonight. There is a silent auction in the lobby to benefit a local therapeutic riders program, and I do hope you will consider making a purchase.”

The crowd murmurs quiet approval amid a round of applause.

Arion holds up a hand, quieting them, and then begins announcing winners of various awards. I tune out his words, instead watching the way he plays with his watch, rubbing his thumb in circles over the face while he waits for the people he announces to come forward. I don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it, but it betrays his anxiety. His eyes roam the crowd, and when they settle on me I understand. He’s in a hurry to get back to me.

Feeling flattered, I hold my champagne slightly up, tipping it toward him as a small sign that I’m paying attention to him, too. And am I ever. I can’t wait for him to get me home and take me to bed. I’m not foolish enough to think it will be an easy road, but I’m ready for me and Arion to move forward. We can face my fears together.

As soon as the awards announcements are over he’s back at my side, his fingertips lightly touching the bare skin on my back. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
 

Am I ever. I take a wobbly step toward him—and I’m totally blaming it on the heels, not the champagne.

“Whoa, easy, Angel. You all right?” Arion’s words and arms slide around me, making me more than all right.

“Take me home.” I almost tell him about the redhead, but I don’t want to ruin the way he’s looking at me. It’s electric and erotic and leaves no room for questioning what he wants.

We find Chelsea and Dougie across the room. “Hi!” I grip Chelsea’s arm, trying to get close enough to whisper.
 

“How much did you let her drink?” She glares at Arion, who suddenly looks uncomfortable. “Did she ever eat dinner?”

Fine, if she doesn’t want to come closer, I’ll just whisper from right here. “Chelsea! Some redheaded whore said she’s supposed to marry Arion, but I set her straight and told her I was his girlfriend.”

Her glare morphs into amusement.
 

“Is that right?” Arion whispers in my ear.

Whoops. So much for not telling him what I said. “I like you.” I smile.

“We’ll get her something to eat on the way home.” Arion guides me toward the door with his arm around my shoulder, but some of the teasing has left his tone.
 

“Are you mad at me?” I ask.

He shakes his head, his jaw hard and unconvincing.

“Stop.” I try to plant my feet, desperate to know how I upset him but my heels skid across the floor, and I nearly land on my ass. He helps me right myself and then stuffs me into the limo. “Tell me what’s wrong? Are you mad I told her I was your girlfriend?” Maybe there is something with him and her after all. It’s a sobering thought.

“No, baby, I’m not mad. I’d just rather hear it from you sober.”

I lean my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes. The next thing I know, we’re pulling up at a McDonalds. Something about going through the drive-thru in a limo feels all kinds of wrong, but the fries Arion hands me taste all kinds of right, so who cares. After we drop Chelsea and Dougie off at her place—she’ll come get her car tomorrow—Arion pulls me into his lap.