Chapter 21
Four days had passed since Delilah had learned that Ben—and McKenzie—were shapeshifters. As she worked at the daycare, she would often forget all about it, and then at random moments the knowledge would come crashing back to her consciousness and she would be shocked all over again. It was hard to believe, especially when she was doing mundane things like wiping noses or reading picture books at story time.
Just as important though, was the way Ben had opened up to her. He had told her about the worst part of his life. It broke her heart that he still felt so badly about it, and she wanted nothing more than to make him feel better, ease his anguish, but she didn’t know how.
Her libido had a few ideas, most of them involving falling to her knees in front of him and taking his dick in her mouth. She told her crazy minx of a libido to keep quiet.
At Ben”s place, nothing much had changed. He insisted that he and the pride were all working on the problem that kept Delilah from going back to her rental. As soon as he had told her about the rogue shifter and how they didn”t know what he was after and the only thing they could think of was McKenzie, Delilah had been happy to stay in Belnedge under his protection. She might”ve made some questionable choices in her past, but she liked to think she wasn”t an idiot. She wasn”t going to fuck around with her daughter”s safety.
Which was why she found herself curled up on one side of Ben’s sofa on Thursday night, watching television with him once again. He sat at the other end, his eyes locked on screen as Franny Nostenbatham, one of the judges on their favorite baking show, shouted rapturously about a perfect Bundt cake.
Delilah wriggled, trying to get comfortable. She had just put McKenzie down for the evening and today had been especially rough. McKenzie had wanted to be carried constantly, which meant that Delilah barely took off that baby carrier. And McKenzie wasn’t getting any smaller—quite the contrary. Delilah’s shoulders were killing her. She lifted them up and down and rolled them back again and again, trying to find some relief.
”Come here,” Ben said.
Delilah froze and looked over at him. His gaze was still on the television screen, but he was waving her closer.
She scooted over. ”What is it?”
”I”m trying to memorize their recipe and I can”t concentrate with you wiggling,” he said.
”Sorry.”
”Here, sit in front of me.” With his massive leg, he hauled the footstool over to rest directly in front of the couch. He put his knees on either side of it and patted the top.
If this man was going to give her a back massage, she would love him forever. She positioned herself on the stool in front of him.
When his big hands came down over her shoulders, Delilah thought she might swoon. He used the perfect pressure, kneading her sore muscles, easing out the ache.
”For the love of fuck,” Delilah moaned. ”This is the best massage I ever had.”
Ben didn”t say anything, just kept rubbing her shoulders. The hood of her sweatshirt kept rubbing against her skin the wrong way, so she eased it off her shoulders. Underneath, she was wearing a camisole, and that was respectable enough. Then again, to hell with respectability. She would get naked right here on the couch if it would make his job easier. When was the last time anyone had touched her like this? As the mom of an infant, she got plenty of human contact, but it was usually Delilah giving the contact—giving and giving and giving. Giving hugs, giving kisses, giving comfort.
When was the last time she had taken?
Ben”s hands traveled lower and she shrugged to get her sweatshirt to move down out of his way. As he pressed her flesh, the ache in her muscles was already disappearing, only to be replaced by a new, different ache.
He paused, his thumbs against her spine and his fingers spanning the back of her rib cage, as if he had sensed the change in Delilah. Because something had sure as fuck changed. It was like on Sunday in the parking lot of Hart’s, when she had wanted him to push her against the car and kiss her senseless.
His hands stilled and he leaned closer to her. She could feel his breath on her neck, warm and tempting. He smelled like the angel food cake he had made for dessert.
Franny Nostenbatham kept going on about flour and sugar ratios or icing or something like that, but Delilah couldn’t pay attention. Refusing to think about it, refusing to analyze anything, Delilah turned halfway. He was right there. She twisted her head around and pressed her lips to his.
His mouth was soft, warm, and inviting. When he parted his lips and sent his tongue out to meet her lips, she opened for him immediately. She wanted more, she wanted everything. She was tired of giving, and she was ready to take.
Using those big hands that had only moments before been rubbing her sore muscles, he turned her around on the footstool before hauling her into his lap. She straddled him, feeling the heat of his cock between her legs. Right there, separated only by his jeans and her sweatpants. His tongue was moving into her mouth with swift, sure strokes, mimicking what she wished his cock was doing in her pussy right now. She moved her hips, begging for more contact there—right there.
How could she have forgotten how good this could feel? How had she not been banging Ben from the first second she laid eyes on him? How long had she been here? Over two weeks? All that lost time that they could have been fucking and feeling amazing like this. It was time to change that, now.
She pulled her arms the rest of the way out of her sweatshirt, then pulled away from Ben so she could lift her cami over her head.
Ben”s eyes were half lidded as his gaze went straight to her tits. He reached out slowly to cup them, as if afraid she would slap his hands away. Oh, no way. These tatas had been purely for function for the past four months, and she was ready to use them for pleasure again. She leaned into his touch, moaning.
Suddenly, he pulled away, looking guilty.
”What is it?” Delilah asked, looking around.
”The baby”s waking up.”
Sure enough, McKenzie gave a little cry in the other room. Delilah was getting used to Ben”s freaky shifter hearing—he often told her McKenzie was waking just before Delilah heard her cry.
Delilah pulled her cami back on. ”Maybe she won”t wake up all the way?”
Ben shook his head.
McKenzie cried out again.
”Dammit,” Delilah said, disappointment flooding her system. She looked at Ben. She didn”t want to stop this, but maybe it was best. She hadn”t really been thinking anything through. She knew that he was hot, and she wanted him. She cared about him. But where were the couch fun-times really going? He was Chase”s brother. Was that twisted?
And if it was, did she care?
It was too much to think about when McKenzie was working herself up into a proper rage, so Delilah pulled her sweatshirt on over her camisole and retreated to the bedroom. She soothed McKenzie back to sleep, but by the time she was done, the TV was off in the living room.
She and Ben had missed their chance. Maybe it was better that way.