Chapter 10 Graham
Chapter ten
Graham
It’s been three days, and all I can think about is Delilah fucking Slater. My best friend’s little sister. The girl who, up until about a week ago, I’d never looked twice at. Well, maybe twice—but certainly not more than that.
And now all I can think about are despicably filthy, dirty things involving every inch of her of her body—under me, on top of me.
Jesus Christ, I need a shower. And it’s not only because I just got home from working a full day at the ranch. I toss my hat on the hook by the front door, kick off my boots, and beeline to the bathroom.
I turn the shower on full blast and twist it to the coldest setting. And then I force myself in. I gasp at the discomfort but grit my teeth and let it wash over me. Yeah, that helps a bit. A bit.
I can’t believe I kissed her.
I kissed Harrison’s little sister.
And what’s worse is that I really want to do it again. Plus other things. Lots of other things.
And there goes this cold shower going to waste.
This whole situation is really, really wrong, and I know that.
I knew that when Delilah suggested it, and I know it now.
It doesn’t stop the lizard part of my brain screaming for one thing only.
I huff out a sigh through my nose, reaching down to grip my already hard cock between my fist and pumping.
It takes me an embarrassingly short amount of time to come. All it took was imagining those goddamn noises she made the other day, and there we go. My chest heaving, I finish my shower, finally able to think about literally anything else.
I pull on new clothes and exit the bathroom. Just in time to almost collide with Harrison in the hallway.
“Oh hey, didn’t know you were home,” Harrison says, sidestepping me.
“Yeah, just got here,” I mumble, walking past.
“You seen Delilah?”
I halt in my tracks, panic washing through me. “What? No! Why would I see Delilah?” I turn to look back at him.
Harrison gives me a funny look, then snorts. “In the parking lot? On your way in? She was supposed to come get me like thirty minutes ago, and she’s not answering her phone. Wondered if you saw her.”
Relief floods me, and I turn back around, heading to the kitchen. “Nope. Didn’t see her.”
Harrison follows me, crossing the living area and peeking through the blinds.
“What’s she coming over for?” I ask as nonchalantly as I can manage. My face is buried in the fridge, looking for something to eat.
“She’s gonna drive me to the mechanic. My truck’s done.”
I hum in acknowledgement.
“I could take you—” I start just as there’s a knock at the front door.
“Finally,” Harrison mutters, stalking across the room. He opens the door. “Kind of you to show up,” he teases.
From my vantage point, I can just barely make out an eye roll from Delilah as she stands at the threshold. “Sorry. Had a call that ran late.”
Harrison grunts, taking a seat on the couch to pull his shoes on. “How’s the new project coming along?” he asks absentmindedly.
Delilah’s gaze meets mine for one, two, three seconds, before she looks away, down at her shoes. She brushes a piece of hair behind her ear. “Fine,” she mumbles.
“Okay.” Harrison slaps his knees and stands. “Let’s go. See you, Graham!” he calls over his shoulder as he follows Delilah out the door and shuts it behind him.
I watch Delilah through the window until she gets into her car and they drive off.
I am not a man who is easily rattled. Especially by women. But seeing Delilah for the first time this afternoon since everything went down was rattling. I’m chalking it up to the special circumstances. Harrison’s little sister, the arrangement, her virginity.
Which, by the way, I’m still coming to terms with.
Delilah Slater never being touched by a man? In what fucking world? And I’m the one she wants to lose it to?
The better part of me knows I should have fought harder. Not agreed to this whole thing. Delilah deserves someone better than me—even though this arrangement will be short-lived.
But the idea of someone else being with her—especially knowing it would be her first experience—made me practically see red.
There’s no guarantee some random man off the street would treat her well, make sure she feels safe, make sure she enjoys herself.
And while I’m definitely not the perfect fit, I can make certain of two things: her safety and her pleasure. The two things I’m best at.
Yeah, if I have anything to do with it, Delilah Slater’s loss of virginity is going to be a good experience. A really, really good one. I’ll be pulling out all the stops.
I sigh, finishing my dinner of frozen pizza. It’s around 8 p.m., and Harrison had texted that he wouldn’t be home tonight. Code for: I’m sleeping at the mechanic receptionist’s.
So here I am in the living room, stewing about Delilah.
She hasn’t texted in three days. We haven’t touched base at all. And while I’d been trying to give her space to sort through any feelings she might have, I wonder if we should at least talk. Who knows? Maybe she wants to cancel this whole thing.
I pull out my phone, bringing up her contact and only hesitating for a few seconds before shooting off a message.
Graham: Hey. Are you free?
The three bubbles immediately pop up, and my heart spikes. I frown. The fuck is my heartrate spiking for?
The bubbles disappear, and I swear my heart beats even faster.
Okay, this is insane. I set the phone down on the table. She’ll respond when she responds. Three seconds later, the phone vibrates, and I snatch it up.
Madeline: You down to hang out tonight?
Disappointment rushes through me at Madeline’s name on my screen. I check my message thread with Delilah; she still hasn’t responded. I go back to Madeline’s text. I write out a message, blowing her off, then stop.
Wait. Am I seriously turning down sex to potentially hang out with Delilah? The idea startles me, but what startles me more is the answer.
Yes.
I text Madeline back.
Graham: Busy. Rain check?
Madeline responds with a thumbs up, and I go back to waiting for Delilah’s reply. When minutes go by without an answer, I begin second guessing myself. I should have taken Madeline up on her offer. I shouldn’t have texted Delilah at all.
But then her name flashes on my screen, and my hopes soar.
Delilah: Yeah. Was just thinking about you. Want to come over?
I grin. I can’t help it.
Graham: Actually, I was thinking I could take you somewhere.
Delilah: You know we can’t go anywhere public, lol. Do you want Harrison to punch you in the face?
I snort aloud.
Graham: I promise this place is off grid. No one will be around.
The dots appear, disappear, and reappear again.
Delilah: Okay. You can come get me whenever.
I smile down at the phone. I manage to pull on jeans and a t-shirt in record time, heading out into the warm, clear evening and hopping into my truck. I make it to Delilah’s in ten minutes, and soon I’m knocking at her door.
She opens with a soft smile. She’s wearing the same outfit from earlier—jeans and a cute, cropped sweater. I can see just a hint of her midriff, and it has me thinking of all the places I’d touched her just a few days ago.
“So, where are we going?” she asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“It’s a surprise,” I say. “Although you should bring a jacket.”
She crinkles her eyebrows at me, grabbing a jacket and her purse from the hook by her door and stepping out into the night. And then we’re back in my truck driving down the darkened country lanes.
“You’re really not going to tell me?” Delilah presses from the passenger seat.
Smirking, I shake my head.
She harumphs dramatically. “You know, I typically don’t make it a habit of letting men take me somewhere mysterious after dark. But I suppose you’re trustable.” She side-eyes me. “After all, Harrison would kill you if anything happens to me.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, you’ve got nothing to worry about from me, Trouble.” I glance across the console, briefly meeting her gaze. “I’ve got you.”
Her eyebrows raise. “Trouble?”
I shrug. “Yeah, thought it was a fitting nickname.”
“How so?”
“You said it yourself—Harrison would kill me if anything happens to you. And here you come, begging for something to happen to you.”
Delilah opens her mouth in mock offense. “I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions.”
“Didn’t say you couldn’t. Doesn’t mean you’re not trouble.” I wink at her.
She laughs softly, turning away from me and gazing out the window. “Wait, are we—are we at Thatcher Ranch?”
I simply grin.
“You know, taking me to your and my brother’s workplace isn’t exactly discreet.”
“We’re not gonna be around anyone.”
She quiets at this, watching as I turn off the main road leading into the ranch, down one that spirals up into the mountains.
It doesn’t take long for us to reach our destination—a clearing surrounded by thick wood, and in the center of it, a campfire, fit with nearby logs as seats.
It’s a place I’ve spent evenings with other cowboys on the ranch, drinking beer, chatting, hanging out.
It’s also a place I’ve brought other women—although I’m not about to mention that to Delilah.
It’s far enough away from the main section of the ranch that no one will come upon us.
And it’s early enough in the season to not be a regular spot for all the other ranch hands.
“Is that a campfire?” Delilah asks as I park the truck on the grass.
“Yep.” I hop out, grabbing some blankets and a case of beer from the truck bed.
I make my way over to the firepit, adding a few logs from a nearby pile, pulling some matches from my pocket, and getting to work starting the fire.
By the time I’m successful and step back, Delilah has spread out a blanket on the grass, choosing to lean back against the log bench rather than sit on it.
The glow from the fire makes her smile warmer as she stares up at me. “Good job, cowboy,” she says.
I snort, taking a seat beside her, offering her a beer.