Chapter 2
David
Delilah’s cheeks are flushed, her discomfort adorable. As soon as I saw her, I knew I wouldn’t be able to let her go again. It killed me the first time, but she was too young. Now, at twenty-eight, she’s at a different point in her life where our age difference doesn’t seem like such a big deal.
She sighs, tossing her phone back into her bag. “Her phone is still off. I guess we better settle in for the night.”
“There are worse places we could be.” Keeping my voice low, I lean forward. “Or worse company we could have. It really is good to see you again, Delilah.”
I love how her cheeks flush when I say her name, just like they used to.
When she looks up at me, her eyes a little less guarded, I see everything I need to. She’s always worn her emotions for everyone to see.
She clears her throat, shifting a little. “You too. I really am sorry about before. I shouldn’t have let you believe I was older. I wasn’t thinking with my head.”
“I know.” And I do. It took everything in me to end our short but intense relationship when I found out she was only twenty-four, but it was the right thing to do. It killed me though, made even worse by how crushed she was.
She stands, rubbing her hands over the material of her flowy skirt, smoothing unseen wrinkles. “Okay.” She gives me a small smile. “I’m going to go find a book to read.”
I watch her retreat to the stacks. Grabbing my phone, I check on the text I sent to the locksmith. Smiling when I see his response, I toss my phone aside. He won’t be here for several hours.
Standing, I follow Delilah. Peeking down the aisle, I can’t stop my grin when I see she’s facing away, flipping through the pages of a book and muttering to herself.
Biting back a laugh when I realize she’s giving herself a pep talk, I move forward quietly, shameless about my curiosity in what she’s saying.
“You can do this. It doesn’t matter that he’s even more attractive than before. Things haven’t changed. He’s still ten years older.” She flips the page, continuing to mutter to herself.
I stop right behind her but not quite touching her, my voice low as I say, “I don’t know if it makes any difference, but ending things with you was the hardest decision I ever made.”
She jumps, stumbling, but I catch her. Her body falling back into me. My arms wrap around her before I’m even thinking about the motion, but I don’t release her.
“It was the right one, but I hated making it.” Leaning down so my lips are by her ear, I murmur, “But things have changed.”
She turns in my arms, her brown eyes wide as she looks up at me, palms pressing into my chest. “They have?”
Groaning as her body presses into mine, I growl, “Yes.”
Closing the distance, I kiss her. Her lips are soft beneath mine, frozen for only a moment before she fists my shirt in her hands, tilting her head back and deepening the kiss with a soft moan.
Tightening my hold, I devour her. She tastes so good, sweet. Delilah releases my shirt, wrapping her arms around my neck and lifting up onto her toes. Her body presses into mine.
My senses explode. Her body is familiar, but different. A little softer than it was the last time I held her. Groaning, I slide my hands down her sides to her hips, fingers digging into her as I hold her close.
She rolls her hips into mine, pressing into my erection. My body remembers her, craves her.
This was only supposed to be a kiss, but I can’t pull away as she reaches between us and palms my cock.
I tear myself away from her lips and kiss along her jaw to her neck.
Her breathing shifts, deepens, as she works my belt loose, growling adorably when the leather sticks.
She makes quicker work of the button and zipper, cool air teasing me as she frees my dick.
Her hand has the perfect pressure as she works it up and down, building and teasing until my forehead is laying on her shoulder and my entire focus is on not blowing my load.
She remembers my every button, but when I feel her start to drop, my hands remember how to work. I hold her in place, pulling out of her grasp.
Delilah’s pupils are dilated, lips glistening and puffy from our kiss.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Are you sure you want this?” My voice is thick, the words coming out raspy.
She reaches for me. “Yes.”
Catching her hands, I push her into the wall and pin them above her head. She opens her lips to protest, but I cut her words off with a kiss as my free hand works its way up her skirt.
Thank fuck she’s wearing a dress.
Her panties are soaked as I run my finger over her, grinning as she presses into me.
Slipping the fabric to the side, I slip a finger inside her, groaning as she clenches around it.
“David, please…”
Those words, the soft plea, and the last strand of self control snaps. Dropping her hand, I work the fabric down her legs, tossing them aside. Hands on her hips, I lift her and thrust into her wet heat as she wraps her legs around me.
She’s hot, dripping, and clenching around me like a vice. It feels like coming home. No woman has ever had the hold over me that Delilah has. Her memory was a ghost haunting every tried and failed relationship since.
I’m not an idiot, I know she holds my heart and I will readily have her tear it to shreds if this isn’t what she wants, but damn I want her to want more as much as I do.
Coming here, accepting the interview and ultimately a job in such a small town? It was all for her.
Her nails dig into my shoulders, thighs squeezing me as she moves with me. One hand finds its way into my hair, tugging on the messy strands as her lips seek mine.
All my nerves are firing, my body and mind overloaded with sensations and pleasure. But the one that sticks out the most is the sense of rightness.
Delilah tears her mouth away, pressing her forehead to mine, eyes closed as her movements change, her body tensing. She moans as her pussy pulses around me, her legs shaking as she comes.
The feeling of her orgasm is everything and my own follows. It feels endless as we come together, lost in each other and the sheer pleasure coursing through us. Delilah’s head drops to my shoulder as she melts into my arms with a shuddering breath.
“Holy shit.” The words are muffled, vibrating against my shoulder.
Grinning, I gently lower her down and tuck myself back into my pants, doing them up, before I find her discarded panties. She leans against the wall as I help her put them back on.
Her eyes are hooded as she gazes down at me, her hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair off my forehead. She smiles, all traces of her earlier guardedness gone.