Page 16 of Dare To Take

I’m thankful as fuck that Elena didn’t replace the old dining table with a glass-topped one because my dick is standing at attention, and my jeans are doing nothing to hide it. Arabella is sitting across from me and every time her black-coated lips part to take another mouthful of whatever we’re eating, showing her little pink tongue, I have to bite back a groan. She walked into the room looking like she took a stroll through my fucking dreams and picked out clothes I wanted to see her in.

Tight jeans that hug her ass. A top that, with every turn or twist of her body flashes creamy skin. The collar around her throat draws my gaze more than once. I want to hook my fingers in it, pull her to me and hold her in place while she sucks my dick.

My fork clatters to the table, silencing the conversation around me, and I surge to my feet.

“Eli?” My dad frowns at me.

“Sorry. Just hot. Need to take my hoodie off.”

I turn so that the back of the chair hides my dick and pull the hoodie over my head. Retaking my seat, I drape it across my legs. A smile flickers across Arabella’s lips, and I wonder if she knows what she’s doing to me.

“Elena and I have been talking. Christmas is almost here. I know we usually have dinner at home.” My dad glances over at me. “But with everything that’s happened, we thought it’d be nice to show that we are a family and go to the club.”

I groan. The Country Club is one of the places I hate the most. Full of rich idiots who think their bank balance makes them important.

“Do we have to?”

“It’s Christmas, Eli. We can’t expect Poppy and her staff to spend the entire holiday here working.”

“Surely it’s not outside of Elena’s skillset to cook Christmas dinner for four of us.” My gaze flicks to Arabella. “Or maybe she can do it. If I recall, she was cooking up a storm when we were introduced.”

“I was baking.” Her voice is crisp and cool.

“Baking, cooking …” I shrug. “Same thing.”

“Actually, it isn’t. But since you’ve probably never set foot near a stove or tried to make a meal for yourself, I’m not surprised you have no idea.”

Silence falls. I refuse to rise to the bait she’s laying out. She wants me to cause a scene. I can see it in the set of her features, the way her chin is tipped, the provocative curl to her lip.

“I like this new you.” I point my knife at her, and smile. “It’s a better reflection of your inner darkness. It’s good that you’re not hiding behind the pink and pretty princess exterior anymore. You’ll need a new nickname, of course. Princess just isn’t … appropriate for this.” I wave my knife in a circle in front of her.

Her eyes narrow, something sparking deep in their depths. I hold her gaze. The silence lengthens, thickens, as we stare at each other, and then Elena clears her throat and Arabella looks away.

“The plan is to go to the Club for Christmas dinner, then we’ll come home and open gifts,” Elena says.

I frown. Gifts? We haven’t done the gift thing in years. Dad usually just lets me buy what I want. I can’t remember the last time I actually opened a wrapped present.

“You mean like actual physical gifts?” I can’t stop the question from breaking free.

Elena’s brows pull together. “Of course, actual gifts. You kids should start thinking about what you’d like.”

“You know I’m eighteen, right, and have access to millions of dollars on a daily basis? I have everything I could ever want.” My voice is dry, and she has the good grace to blush.

“And that’s why we’re setting a budget. I want you to write a list of twenty things you’d like, the total cannot come to more than one thousand dollars, and me and your father will choose the ones we want to get for you.”

The idea of budgeting money brings me out in a cold sweat.

She turns to Arabella. “The same goes for you.” Her eyes drift over her daughter’s clothes. “Maybe a new wardrobe?” She doesn’t wait for a reply, turning back to me. “And I want you to buy each other a gift. Your budget for that is a hundred dollars each.”

“No way.” Arabella snaps.

“What the fuck?” I say at the same time. “We don’t even know each other.”

Everything I know about Arabella Gray are not things I can share with her mother. How she likes to be touched, how she tastes, the sounds she makes, how her entire body flushes when she comes.

Fuck. My erection, which had died down, wakes up again.

Elena casts a stern look at each of us. “Then I suggest you get to know each other.”

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