Cold air whispered into the car as he cracked his door open, his gaze on me. He didn’t say a word as he stepped out, though it was obvious he wanted me to follow. I killed the ignition and took a deep breath. Before I could open my own door, he was there, doing it for me. I stared up into his face, bathed in the velvety blackness of the night. I had no idea what he was thinking and that had nerves zipping to life in my belly.
He held out his hand. “Come here.”
On autopilot, I grasped his warm hand and stood until we were face to face and body to body. He released my hand and cupped both sides of my face tenderly. “Please tell me you know what you’re saying. What you’re getting yourself into.”
I breathed in his air, still sweet and a touch spicy from the pumpkin pie. Desire and confusion crowded every cell, but I could only listen to my heart. “I do.”
If it was possible, he moved in even closer, his body heat whipping up my chest. “Do you?”
I bit my lip and nodded. “I think so.”
“And what’s that?”
“You.”
With a tortured groan, his lips slammed into mine, giving me no room for thought. He consumed me, worshipped me with his mouth. And I dove right in.
We couldn’t get close enough as I tried to inhale him. He was so dark, so tempting, so perfect.
He finally drew back, his hands still on my cheeks, his fingers forked into my hair. “Delilah.” The way he said my name was like a warning. “Understand something right now . . . if you mean that, if you really mean it, then you’re mine. All mine.” His forehead tipped to mine. “I’m not sure I could let you go now. I’ve never had anything as perfect as you.”
Oh, my God. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to be his, to have him crave me as desperately as I was coming to crave him. Was it even possible? The gleam in his dark eyes said absolutely. I was overwhelmed.
“But, Princess, you also need to understand I have some serious shit in my life. It’s no place for someone like you.”
I drew back. “Someone like me?”
His thumb traced my lip. “You know what I mean.”
“No. I don’t.” I pulled out of his arms. “I’m not so sure we’re that different, Blake. Other than how people perceive us. And I have shit in my life, too.”
A sarcastic laugh puffed from his chest as he ran a hand through his too-long hair. “There’s no comparison, babe.”
Anger and frustration rocketed up through me. How dare he presume to know anything about my life? “Fine. We don’t have to do this.” I spun to get back behind the wheel. “Let’s go.”
His hand gripped my arm, keeping me from sitting. “That’s not what I meant, Delilah.” I didn’t move, didn’t look at him. A gust of air sounded as he released a big breath. “I just . . . I’m . . .”
I peeked over my shoulder, but his head was downturned. “You’re just the poor loser kid with a delinquent brother and a drunk father.” His head snapped up. “Right?”
The truth was shining in his eyes like a beacon calling out to me.
“Is that it?”
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t release my arm either. “Yeah, well, I don’t care. I’m the poor loser daughter who will never measure up in her parents’ eyes.” I yanked away and sat. “I’d say we’re even.”
He stood there as I slammed the door between us.
No, I’d probably never fully understand the pain in his life that had made him so grown-up, so wounded, but I could definitely relate. On a soul-deep level. And that did scare me.
Blake
Delilah was bringing me to life. There was no other way to explain it. She brightened my days and brought peace to my nights, where ugliness and nightmares used to be my constant companions.
During the entire Christmas break, she snuck out to see me every chance she got. We were becoming inseparable.
Tonight, the night before school starts back for the New Year, I waited for her down by the beach. I glanced at my watch; she was five minutes late. Stupid of me to worry, I knew, but there was something deep inside me that was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for her to realize her mistake and bail.
Headlights flashed through the hazy night and I flipped my windshield wipers on once to clear the drizzle from my window, my heart leaping in relief. Her dark Beamer slid into the spot next to mine and she quickly hopped out, her white jeans and baby blue sweatshirt a blur of light in the pitch black. She yanked open the passenger door and suddenly her unique scent was all around me.
“Hi.” She smiled and reached over to grip my hand. Her fingers were warm and welcoming. Like home.
“Hey.”
Sighing, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “It’s been a shitty night.”
“What happened?”
She lifted her head and I felt her stare through the darkness. “My parents. My dad, really. I hate how everything is about his stupid campaign now, and how he and Mom try to control us. It’s like they expect us to be little mindless robots.”
I tried to imagine my dad giving a shit about anything I did. I stretched across the distance and stroked her face. “I’m sorry, baby.”
She turned her face until her lips found my palm. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”
No, it really wasn’t okay. I hated that she felt so kowtowed by her parents. That there was nothing I could do. That we had to keep our relationship a secret so her dad wouldn’t find out. But, we both knew, there was nothing good that could come of that. Especially since he’d been out to my house when my dad got drunk and violent again, shattering our front window and trading punches with the guy two doors down. I’d stared at Sheriff Jackson’s name badge and willed myself to say something. Anything. But the words wouldn’t come. All I could think was how Dee had his eyes.
And I hadn’t told her.
She knew about my dad in theory. The reality was so much uglier and I wanted to protect her from that somehow. And I was ashamed.
“So,” she said, pulling me back to her. “What did you do today?”
I grinned. “I went shopping.”
“Shopping?”
“Yeah.” I shifted over to reach into the backseat and grabbed the gift-wrapped package. I handed it to her.
“What’s this?” Her eyes glittered in the darkness as she lifted them to me.
“A present. Open it.”
“But . . .” She fingered the little gold locket I’d already given her for Christmas. “Why’d you get me a present?”
Because I love you. I violently yanked those words back before I spouted them out like a dumbass. “Just because. You’re my girl. Can’t I buy you presents?”
A brilliant smile lit her face. “I guess so.”
I nodded down at the big box in her lap, indicating for her to open it.
She shook it and made a face at the loud, metallic clanking. “It’s heavy.”
“Yeah. I know.” I laughed. She was adorable.
Finally, she ripped the paper with abandon like an excited kid on Christmas morning. No dainty, folding back of wrapping to save it for later for her. It reminded me of the first several Christmases of my life, when Mom had taken such care to wrap my and my brother’s presents so we wouldn’t guess what they were. I suddenly wished I’d thought to do that.
Her surprise ricocheted through the car as she unveiled the small, beginner toolbox full of tools.
Her silence had me second-guessing myself. “If you don’t like it—”
“No. I love it.” She leaned over the console and kissed me. “Thank you.”
“It’s so you’ll have your own . . . when we’re working on the car. Or whatever.” We both knew the work on the Camaro was basically done. I just needed to put the repainted panel on when I got it back from the shop. But, still, I felt like a stuttering boy. Something about her made me want to please her. Love her.
She placed the box at her feet and stretched over to me again. This time, her kiss was slow, th
orough, and anything but a thank you. “You’re the best. I’ll cherish it forever.”
The laugh bubbled up in my throat and I cupped her neck, bringing her lips to mine again. I swept my tongue along her sweet mouth, suckled and licked the corner of her lips. She moaned and clutched at my neck. “It’s just . . . a . . . toolbox,” I murmured hotly against her lips as she began to devour me.
“I know.” Her hands slipped up my T-shirt, over my abs, up to my chest. She clambered across the console until she was in my lap, her body wiggling against mine, her hands all over me, her lips practically eating me alive.
I groaned into her mouth and she swallowed it. I knew where this was going, and as alarm bells started ringing in my head, I tried hard to shove them away.
“Dee.” Her sweatshirt was gone now, just jeans and a simple white lace bra hiding the body I’d been yearning to touch. I cupped one breast and slid my thumb over her little pebbled nipple.
“Blake.” She mimicked my desperate tone, shoving her breast closer, silently begging for more.
I could have her. Now. I wanted her. Ferociously, I wanted her. Still, something held me back. Not like this.
I drew back and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her collarbone, eliciting a moan from her. I placed one more soft peck to her rapidly pounding pulse and relaxed back, my hands on her hips.
She dropped her hands to my belt loops and stared at me, questions in her eyes. I kissed her again. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, caressing the dip in her waist, loving the feel of her warm, silky skin.
“Sorry for what?”
I gently pushed her back into her seat and handed her her sweatshirt. “We can’t. I can’t. Not now.”
She slipped her shirt on and I could feel her glare like a hot slap. “Why? Did I do something—?”
“No.” Interlacing our fingers, I squeezed in reassurance. “No, you didn’t do anything. I just . . .” My chin fell to my chest as shame raced through me again, knowing I’d never be able to give this girl a fraction of what she deserved.
“What?”
“You deserve better than this.” I gestured around us at the darkened interior of my car. “You deserve something perfect.” Like you.
“It will be perfect. As long as it’s with you.” Her soft words sliced me into ribbons. My chest wanted to cave in on itself.
I sighed, disbelief heavy in my gut.
“I want my first time to be with you, Blake. I do.”
My head snapped around. “First time?”
She bit her lip and I could just imagine the blush staining her cheeks. “Yeah.”
“Oh, God.” I groaned and gazed out my side window. “All the more reason—”
“No!” Her intense outburst caught me off guard. “No. I’ve waited this long because it never felt right with any other guy.” She squeezed my fingers. “It feels right with you.”
How? How could this be true?
“Blake.” She waited until I met her gaze, her voice dropping in a wounded plea. “I’m falling for you. Big time. Please don’t reject me.”
“Oh, baby.” I released her hand and ran my fingers through her hair, letting the velvet soft strands sift sensuously across my skin. “I’m not rejecting you. I’d never do that.” I cupped her jaw. “Never. But you deserve so much more than a tumble in the backseat of my car for your first time.”
I saw the uncertainty and pain shining in her eyes, and it about killed me that I’d put that there. Her head dropped a bit into my palm as I searched for the right words. “I’m yours,” I said, letting a slice of my heart seep into my voice. “And you’re mine. There’s no changing that now. This will happen for us when the time is right. Okay?”
Her hand was trembling as she brought it up and placed it over mine. “You swear?”
“I swear.”
And there, staring into Delilah Jackson’s perfect face, I let myself fall 100%.
Delilah
Blake Travers refused to have sex with me tonight. And somehow, it was the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.
I’m yours . . . And you’re mine. There’s no changing that now.
He meant it. I know he did. I could feel him in every cell of my body, in my soul. When he looked at me like that and said those things, I suddenly wasn’t scared anymore. He may be a bad boy with a bad reputation . . . one that was well-earned . . . but with every sweet glance, every exquisitely soft touch, every word he spoke, he was showing me his true heart. And I loved him.
I loved him.
And it was the most exhilarating thing that I’d ever experienced.
When we parted ways at the pier, I could feel him wanting to say something. Maybe he felt some of this strange, beautiful love. I could only hope. But I settled for one more hot kiss before I climbed back into my car and headed home, feeling strangely empty without him.
I snuck back into my house at midnight as silently as possible and slipped off my shoes to pad up the stairs. I tucked myself in the bathroom and clicked the door shut before flipping on the light. Getting ready for bed, I wondered how things would be between Blake and I once we were back in school. The same? New and exciting?
“Oomph!” Ducking out toward my room, I slammed into a body in the dark hallway.
“Hey!” my sister stage-whispered.
“Sorry.” I side-stepped her and moved for my bedroom door.
“Where’ve you been?” Her question was laced with suspicion.
I took a breath with my hand pressed to the door then spun around, searching the darkness for her face. “Please don’t tell,” I urged, my voice low and urgent.
She didn’t say a word, just stood there staring at me. I could just make out her frown in the light from her bedroom window.
“Danielle. Please.”
She thrust a hip out and crossed her arms across her chest. “Why? Where were you?”
I sighed. There had been a time when my sister and I were best friends. We shared Barbies and books and little girl secrets. But all that changed as our family started to morph into this Stepford version. Could I trust her again? “I was with . . . a friend.” My voice shook and I swear I could still taste Blake on my lips.
“A friend?” She clearly didn’t believe me. “A boyfriend?”
I rushed toward her, desperate for her not to ruin this. To not tell our parents. “Please. Don’t tell. I’ll do anything . . .”
“What’s his name?”
I couldn’t read the tone of her voice. She was either going to keep my secret or tell our parents everything. I was already busted, so I had to take a chance. “Blake.”
“Do you love him?”
I sucked in a breath. What to say? Lie? I hadn’t even told him how I felt. But it was obvious that Danielle wanted the details if she was going to keep this to herself. “Yes,” I whispered.
I could feel her gaze hot on my face, then she nodded once and moved toward the bathroom.
“Danielle?”
She stopped.
“Are you going to tell on me?”
I could hear the smile in her voice, “Tell what?”
I was grinning when I closed myself in my room.
The next morning, I felt like I was floating on a cloud as I glided into school ten minutes early and headed straight for Government. I had spied Blake’s car in the parking lot already, its brand new, shiny quarter panel in place. How had I missed that last night? Probably too preoccupied with a certain car owner. I grinned that it looked so good, and that I’d remembered what it was called.
In class, he was seated, his eyes glued to something on his desk. As I approached, he didn’t glance up from the notes in front of him.
I dropped my book bag on the ground and faced my desk, puzzled. Then I saw it.
The most perfect white rose lying on my chair.
Something warm unfurled in my chest as I bent and picked it up, bringing it to my nose. I glanced around the nearly empty room, then I realized I didn’t care what eve
ryone thought. I leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“Thank you.”
Twinkling brown eyes met mine. “For what?”
I twirled the rose between my fingers. “For this. For being you.”
His gaze dipped down to the flower in my hand. “Who says I left that?”
“Ah . . .” I sniffed. “Then I have another admirer? Who should I thank?”
A frown touched his mouth. “No one.”
Impulsively, I leaned down again and kissed his lips this time. Before I could pull away, he reached up and cupped my head, keeping me close and opening his mouth to deepen the kiss with a swirl of his tongue. I stifled a moan and put my flowerless hand on his shoulder, wonderful warmth seeping through his leather jacket into my fingers. I idly noticed he needed a shave as his stubble rubbed across my sensitive face.
When he let me go and I stepped back, I caught Mrs. Dunbar’s startled expression as she walked into the room.
I offered her a small smile and waved with the rose in my hand before sitting, feeling my heart swell to near bursting.
Once class was underway, Blake folded one of the papers on his desk into an airplane and launched it toward me. I caught it and unfolded his note.
You’re so pretty. Wanna be my girlfriend?
My eyes snapped up, a confused frown building on my face. He was grinning at me, his pen still clutched in his hand as he tipped it back and forth between his fingers.
Sorry. I have a boyfriend, I wrote back, playing along.
I watched his brows thunder down. Who is he? I’ll kill him.
A giggle escaped before I could help it. I slapped a hand over my mouth and glanced up to make sure nobody had heard me. This really hot, funny, super sweet grease monkey who buys me flowers. Nobody you know. <3
Huh. My loss then. Hope he treats you right.
Something strange curled around my heart. He had no idea how perfect he was for me. How he treated me more like a princess than anyone ever had. He does.
I nearly wrote ‘I love him,’ but stopped myself. How would he react? It was too early in our relationship for all of that. But it didn’t stop my romantic heart from drowning in the emotion.
Burnout (Jack 'Em Up Book 0) Page 6
