The Fallen Read Online Free Page B

The Fallen
Book: The Fallen Read Online Free
Author: Celia Thomson
Pages:
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today; she could do anything.
    She went to the bar first, leaning against it and surveying the scene. A few people were dancing and dressed badly, but otherwise it was a pretty hot crowd. What looked like an entire fraternity was loudly but good-naturedly arguing about sports, waving their beers, making an out-of-place businessman and hismodel very uncomfortable. There was one particularly hot guy across the floor, hanging around in the back, drinking quietly and people watching, just like her. He had black hair, dark skin, and light, light eyes. Exotic. She ducked her head to follow his movements as he ordered a beer, talked to a friend, and wandered into the crowd, but soon she lost him.
    She waited patiently, but he didn’t return. No one took his place, either; there were a few runners-up, but the hottest guy in the club had disappeared.
    â€œBuy you a drink?”
    He appeared at her side, smiling at her surprise and embarrassment. Up close he was even better looking, with full lips and a light spattering of darker brown freckles across his nose.
    Chloe was just about to say No, thank you, like she did every time some twenty-something tried to pick up her fifteen-year-old self. But, “Absolutely!” was what came out instead.
    â€œWhat’ll it be?”
    â€œRed Bull and vodka.”
    He nodded his approval and clinked her drink with his beer glass when the bartender handed it over.
    â€œIt’s my birthday in two hours!” she shouted into his ear.
    â€œReally? Cheers!” He sounded British. They toasted each other again and drank. “Happy birthday!” He kissed her delicately on her cheek. Chloe felt her stomachroll over and her mind play dead. An enormous grin spread over her face, completely destroying her cool. She had gotten into the club with no hassle, a drop-dead gorgeous guy just bought her a drink—this was turning out to be a pretty great birthday after all.
    After another drink they started dancing. He moved in small sways and tiny circles perfect for avoiding other dancers in the tightly packed space. For one song he just put his hands around her waist and let her move, the center of his attention. When they walked through the crowd for a drink or a break, he would very lightly touch his hand to her back or shoulder, leading her protectively but not possessively.
    â€œI’m Chloe!” she shouted at one point.
    â€œI’m Xavier!” he shouted back.
    At twelve thirty Chloe decided she was turning into a pumpkin. Near-death experience or no, her mother was going to kill Chloe
herself
if she stayed out all night. Xavier walked her out.
    â€œLet me be the first to wish you a happy birthday,” he said, kissing her gently on the lips in the dark parking lot. His mouth was warm and moist but not wet, and he was a hell of a lot more delicate than the few guys her own age Chloe had kissed. He pulled a card out of his wallet. It was actually engraved:
Xavier Akouri, 453 Mason St., #5A, 011-30-210-567-3981.
It took her a moment to realize that it was an international cell phone number she was looking at.
    â€œAren’t you going to ask for mine?” Chloe asked.
    He smiled and lowered his head so their noses were almost touching, looking directly into her eyes. “And would you have given me your real number?
You
call
me
if you want.”
    Her stomach did another flip-flop. Before she knew what she was doing, Chloe grabbed him around the back of the neck and held his head still while she kissed him. He actually let out a little moan. It drove her wild. His hands came up around her hips. Chloe reached around up and under his shirt to feel the skin on his back, kneading his muscles and clawing him with her fingernails. He moaned again, from pleasure or pain, it was hard to tell. But he took one of her legs and wrapped it up around his waist. Chloe felt herself sliding in closer and closer—
    What the hell am I doing?
    She opened her eyes and
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