by S. L. Scott
Backing her up against the truck, this time I pull back and say, “Let me take you home.”
She knows what I mean. My body gives me away as I press against her. “I bet my sister I wouldn’t sleep with you.”
I chuckle. “As much as I love a good cuddle after sex, I love to win a bet more. No sleeping together then.”
“What? No.” I hear the plea in her tone, and feel the way her body moves against mine.
“Oh, don’t worry, honeysuckle. When I say sleeping, I mean the slumbering kind of actual sleep. I plan on keeping you wide awake all night.”
A smile slips into place and her head falls back with laughter. “You always knew the way to a woman’s heart.”
“I might want your heart, but tonight, I want everything else.”
She laughs again. “I thought you were going to say you want my sex.”
“When we hit the portion of the night that we start quoting songs from the nineties to get laid, it’s time to go.” Nodding toward the cab of the truck, I step back. “C’mon. The mosquitoes are brutal tonight.”
Taking her hand, I lead her to the cab and open the door. When she’s safely inside, I jog back around and steer the truck, getting us back to the farmhouse. When I cut the engine, the sounds of the cicadas surround us again. The light from the front porch barely reaches us. She looks over at me and, in that moment, I can see something so tragically beautiful in her eyes.
She asks, “Would you like to come in?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.” That’s all the go-ahead I need to get out and help her down. The wet cotton of her dress clings to her body. What a fine pair of drowned rats we are. I don’t lock my truck, but I do grab my clothes out of the back along with the blanket holding our food.
I follow behind her. Suddenly all the fun is gone, and we’re left with the questions we should have asked and answered back on that dock. Her fight has slipped into the night and my stance on not having sex with my ex tonight returns. We have too much to work through to put ourselves at risk again. The quiet between us is unnerving, the doubts coming back, so I stop on the porch just as she enters the house. “Delilah?”
The screen door slams closed between us and she turns. Surprised to see me on the other side, she asks, “Are you coming in?”
I want to so badly. So badly that I doubt myself for not taking what I want. I can’t though. Not with her. She means too much. She’s the only one who can hurt me. Again. Instead, I sigh and look down. “I think I should go home.”
Disappointment takes over in a return sigh, and she asks, “Why?”
“Because as much as I want be with you tonight, I can tell this is wrong. I don’t want some weird thing between us. I want us kissing and laughing, making love because it feels good and because it’s what we both want.” I walk back down the steps. “I think it’s best if we call it a night. Good night, Delilah. It was good spending time with you again.”
“Jason?” Looking back over my shoulder, I wait to hear what she has to say, every word from her too important to miss. “It was a pleasure spending time with you too. Maybe we can do it again before you leave town.”
“I’d like that.” I start walking again, stepping on sticks and leaves as I cross that little lawn. I should probably get dressed. “And hey, let Shelby know you won the bet.”
“I will. But if I won, why do I feel like I lost?”
Women are complicated. I try to do right by her. Read her body language and between the lines of what she says. Respect her and some bet she made with her sister. Now, she’s disappointed I’m not ravaging her good and proper.
Dropping my clothes and the blanket back into the bed of the truck, I turn back. Analyzing that body now, I see all the signs I need. Fuck my stance. Fuck her bet. Fuck. She still owns me after all these years. I turn around and cross that lawn like my feet are on fire and get the distinct pleasure of her smile again.
I swing the screen door open and step inside until I hear her breath catch and her eyes go wild with anticipation. “You’re going to so lose that bet.” Capturing her chin between my fingers, I kiss her. This time I leave no doubt about my intentions for the night.
10
Jason
The lamp crashes to the floor, the light bulb flashing then going out. I bump my knee on a table and my big toe hits something metal. My lips leave hers as I bounce on one foot. “Fuck.”
Delilah’s arms are around my neck, but her lips leave my face, and she giggles. “Sorry about that. I’ve moved things around since you were last here.”
Looking over her shoulder into the living room, there’s enough light from the kitchen for me to take stock of the room. It’s a bad habit I’d like to break, but living like I did it’s one I needed. Even in the dark, I needed to know my escape route or I could be killed. There’s a clear path to the back door if the chair is pushed in and the umbrella is righted.
She turns my chin with her finger. “Hey, remember me?”
Who needs lamps when her smile lights up the room. I tighten my hands around her waist, liking the feel of our bodies pressed together too much to let her go. “I remember.”
“Where’d you go there? I lost you for a few seconds.”
“I’m right here.” Tucking some of her wet hair back from her face. “Right here with you.” Her body is cold, the air in the house chilling both of us. I bring her to me, as close as I can hold her, and kiss her on the head. “You’re going to get a cold. Maybe we should detour to the shower for a warm-up.”
Tilting her head back, she rests her chin on my chest. “A warm-up like foreplay or to actually warm up?”
“Both.”
I will never get enough of her smile. I’m warmer by being at the receiving end of it. I mentally add it to the list of things I missed about her. She replies, “I’ll get the water going. It takes forever to heat up.”
Just as she turns to leave, I catch her by the wrist. When she turns back expectantly, I ask, “What do you want me to do?”
Slipping her wrist from my grasp, her hand replaces it. “Come with me.”
I follow her down the hall and up the stairs, stairs I remember climbing a million times when we were teenagers. We were only allowed in her bedroom with the door wide open and if we got too quiet, her dad would start asking questions.
When she reaches the top landing, she stops and turns around. Standing eye level with me, she holds my face in her hands, and as if someone might hear, she whispers, “I don’t know what we’re doing, but can we take it slow?”
Taking hold of her hips, I kiss her gently. “We can take it however you need to. I’m in no rush to reach the end of this night.”
“I don’t only mean tonight. I mean, I guess we kind of know what’s about to happen and I want that with you. Again. I do. I’m just worried about tomorrow.”
I kiss her again. Slower this time, letting our lips get reacquainted. “Let’s leave our cares for tomorrow and enjoy tonight. Just a little time to feel good.” I can’t ask her for more. She deserves someone better, someone with a clear conscience and clean soul. But as I’m kissing her, I let the dark win because if I can have this chance, one last time to be with her, I’ll greedily take it.
“You always did make it sound so easy.”
“We don’t have to make it hard either.”
Embracing me, her mouth is to my ear, and she whispers, “Okay. We’ve got tonight. We’ll leave our worries for another day.” She turns and walks down the hall to the bathroom.
I’m left with my arms spread, my hands gripping the railings, and a whole hell of a lot of concerns about how we’ll feel tomorrow. Because no matter how much I can convince her otherwise, I can’t convince myself. She’s the same woman I’ve been thinking about since the day we broke up. No one in the years since has come close. But here I am about to take a shower with her like I can walk away tomorrow not being utterly changed by merely being in her presence. Fuck.
&nb
sp; It doesn’t matter. I’m already walking down that creaky floorboard hallway and pushing open the bathroom door. She’s standing there in the glow of candlelight with a towel wrapped around her and her hand hanging out under the water. Blue eyes that remind me of the pool in summertime look into mine with the trust she gives in that one exchange.
I can’t screw this up.
I can’t screw her over.
I can’t take walking away from her the same way it played out last time.
If only for tonight, I have to be everything. All in. For her and for me.
Moving into the small space, I get all in hers. Taking the top of the towel, I lower my gaze as I unwrap her like a present just for me.
She says, “I’m nervous.”
My eyes find hers again and I smile to reassure her. “Don’t be.”
Tending to the towel, I open it and look at her bare body. Every curve and shadow draws me in. Her body is perfection, a wonderland of discovery. The fullness of her breasts mixes with the familiar dip from her waist to her hips. The silkiness of her skin covers a toned but feminine softness to her body. “You’re beautiful, Delilah.”
A heavy breath is exhaled and relief filters through her. “Thank you.”
Her reaction is unusual. She’s always been a stunning girl. She turned the heads of all the guys at school. Before me now, she’s a woman that needs reassurance. In the back of my mind, I know Cutler hit her, but did he beat her self-esteem down too? Fucker. How could he do it?
Why did he do it?
I doubt one night will undo the damage he did to her, but if I can give her a reprieve from her battered heart, I will. I hang the towel on the hook behind me and take down my boxers while she watches. I like how into me she seems. I love how her pretty blues meet my eyes and it’s like we were never apart, like the love we once shared is within reach again.
Superficially, I like how she looks at me like she’s about to drool. Makes me glad I went to the gym and got a few rounds inside the ring. I took a few blows to my stomach, but my opponent steered clear of my face. I told him I had to look good for tonight.
As much as I would wish to be taking a shower with Delilah, I didn’t actually think it would be happening. Reaching out, I test the water, which has warmed. My gaze roams her body leisurely. That’s when I spot it. “Is that a tattoo?”
I hear the fast intake of air and her eyes widen just enough for me to know she’s embarrassed. Her hand covering the delicate skin just above her pubic bone and an inch to the right also tells me that. I’m intrigued. Really intrigued, I ask, “What’s your tattoo?”
“Just pretend I don’t have one. It was a mistake. A drunken night out with my sister during a visit to Chicago a few years back.” She steps into the tub and under the shower spray, tilting her hips away from me so I can’t see the artwork.
Following her into the tub, I ask, “Why are you hiding it from me?”
“Because I can’t explain it without ruining the moment,” she snaps.
I run my hands over her shoulders, leaving one hand on the side of her neck. “Hey, you can’t ruin this. I want you. You want me. This right here is all good, honeysuckle.”
After taking a deep breath and exhaling, she turns her hips toward me, giving me an open invitation to peruse her body, which I happily do. I squat down and her head goes up, hiding her face from me. It’s only a number in black and gold—McKinney High School colors. It’s meaningless to anyone else, but means everything to me. I run my finger over the eight and look up.
The heat from the shower isn’t causing the red that covers her face, but I pretend it is by standing up to reach around and turn up the cold water to cool us off. “It’s getting hot.”
Delilah’s still refusing to look at me, so I lean down to find her gaze. “I think that might be the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
There’s the smile I adore. The apples of her cheeks are still pink, but at least the tension she was exuding has evaporated. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Yes, but it’s a good kind of crazy.” Moving my hand over the tattoo, I rub a few circles before going a little lower and a bit over.
“I didn’t know there was a good kind.”
“There is when it comes to you.” I kiss her lightly on the lips.
Why am I now nervous?
I’ve been with women, though it’d be embarrassing to admit how long it’s been. It’s inhumane to go so long without doing something so natural, but it fit the job I was doing, a job that took an immense amount of attention. I was extremely focused when I worked. No break in concentration. Too many accidents happened otherwise. Like innocent women being carjacked and shot.
Her naked body is before me, reminding me how long it’s been since I laid eyes on such beauty, such perfection, reminding me she was created to be my undoing.
We’ve had sex before. Many times. Although years have passed since I last touched her.
I never get nervous. I was good at my job because I was unshakeable, but Delilah Noelle has me anxious, wanting to please her.
Damn, I want to make her feel so good.
Moving her under the water, I watch as she closes her eyes. I run the back of my hand over her cheek and then continue down her neck and lower. Her chest rises and falls with deepened breaths, her lips part so temptingly that I lean in and kiss her, my tongue connecting with hers. When I pull back, she opens her eyes, the tips of her fingers finally finding my skin. Her bottom lip finds the underside of her teeth while she runs her nails across my chest. “Why’d you stop?”
“Because I like looking at you.” When a smile crosses those sexy lips, I have an epiphany. “But I think I like kissing you more.” I step closer and take her face in my hands, our lips meeting in the middle. Her nails scrape down my ribs, and I run my hands over her shoulders. Holding her to the side, I reach up and turn the showerhead so the water warms us against the cold tile.
She giggles.
I grab a bottle of body wash and squeeze some into my palm. It smells delectable, just like her. Admiring the beauty before me, her eyes are bright with anticipation. I start rubbing it along those curves that become more dangerous when wet. “What are you laughing about?”
Shyness creeps in. Her hands leave my body to cover hers. “This. Us. We’re standing here naked like we do this all the time.”
“We used to. Maybe not in your room, but I remember all those nights in the bed of the truck, in the field that time we had no other choice, and in my house.” I take her hands and bring them to my lips while keeping my eyes on hers. “I don’t want you to hide. You’re gorgeous. All over, and I can’t wait to kiss you everywhere, Delilah.”
Pink creeps up her chest and settles on her cheeks. She starts to raise her hands to cover herself, but I kneel in front of her instead while holding them at her sides. She never used to shy away from me. Never. “What are you doing, Jason?”
“Just enjoy.”
“What?” Her voice pitches. “I’m, um . . . uh . . . I don’t know.”
“Shh.” While kissing the apex of her thighs, I hold her hips still.
“Okay.” She’s breathy when she speaks, and I hear her head hit the tile. Determined fingers weave into my hair and tighten. When I peek up, she says, “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I ask, smiling.
Her thighs clench together. “Like . . . like . . . like you want to eat me.”
“I do want to eat you.”
Sucking in a breath, another giggle exhales from her. Her tits look amazing. “What’s so funny?”
“You. This. Us. I mean, you’re staring at my girl parts.”
“Girl parts?” Scrunching my brow together, I stand up. I rest my hand above her on the tile. Searching her eyes for any indication that this isn’t the first time she’s had sex since . . . I don’t want to think about him, but the way she’s giggling I’m thinking she needs this release as much as I do. “I’m not a guy who nee
ds to know all the gory sexual details, but let me ask you something. When was the last time you were with somebody?”
“It’s not like that for me.”
“Like what?”
Her gaze falls to the tub, and the strength in her voice goes right with it. I hate that she feels weak at a time she should feel empowered. She’s amazing. Has she forgotten? She whispers, “I’ve only been with two people and you’re one of them.” This time her hands find my cheek and the day’s beard growth must feel rough under her soft touch. “You always saw me so differently from who I am.”
“I saw who you really were. Not Douglas Noelle’s daughter. Not Jason Koster’s girlfriend. Not the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen even though you were. And are. No. I always saw Delilah Rae Noelle. She’s the girl I would make the world spin backward to get another chance to spend time with her. You’re magnificent.”
Looking up under a wave of dark lashes, she’s coy when she asks, “That was then. What am I now?”
“What did he do to you?”
“Jason?”
“Yeah?”
“We’re standing naked in the shower and the water’s turning cold. Maybe we can finish this talk another time. Tonight I want to be the girl you always remembered me to be.”
“I don’t need that girl when I have the woman before me.” I follow up with a kiss on the tip of her nose.
She raises her arms into the air and says, “You missed a spot.” Fuck yeah. The weight of our worries lifts, and the playfulness returns. I caress her breasts and kiss her neck. Her body vibrates as she laughs, then she adds, “We should really hurry this along before the water’s freezing.” I rub my body against hers, soaping myself up.
When she dips her soapy hands and takes hold of my erection, I waver. “God, that feels so good.”
“Wait until I remind you what I can do with my tongue.”
I hit the knob off and yank the towels from the shower rod, which comes down with them, bonking me on the head. “Ow!”
She screams and jumps out of the way.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
