“What kind of pact?”
“No fighting. Just sex. And fun.” I turn to her, feeling her stare. Her lips curl at one side. “Let’s make this the kind of summer neither one of us will ever be able to forget.”
“All right. Deal.”
We shake hands, our holds lingering a second too long.
When we pull onto my street, I veer into my driveway out of habit. My body warm and relaxed and my mind drained after spilling my life history earlier, I reach for Delilah’s hand and take a deep breath.
“You want to sleep over tonight?” I ask.
Her knees clench together. “Oh, um. I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to have sex with you, but . . .”
“No,” I say. “I’m not asking for that. I want you to stay with me tonight.”
She turns to me, slowly, brows lifted. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I want you to.”
I shift into park and she grabs her bag, her gaze moving from my house to Rue’s. We climb out, walking around and meeting by the hood.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask.
She bites her lip. “A lot of things.”
Lifting my brows, I will her to elaborate. “Such as?”
Delilah opens her mouth to speak, and then silences herself. “Nothing that needs to be said right now. It’s late. I’m exhausted. You are too.”
I take her hand in mine, pulling her near. “You coming inside or am I going to have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you?”
Her lips inch into a grin before she yawns. “Do what you want with me, de la Cruz. You’ve earned some bonus points tonight.”
“Not sympathy points, I hope.”
“Nope. Just nice guy points.”
My eyes squeeze shut and I stick my tongue out. “Lame.”
“Not lame. Not lame at all.”
Without hesitating, I hoist her over my shoulder, running my hands up the backs of her thighs and slapping her ass. She pounds on my back with clenched fists.
“I thought you were joking about throwing me over your shoulder.” She laughs.
“Nah. I’ve always wanted to do that to someone.” I take her inside, plunking her down on my bed at the end of the hall. Grabbing a t-shirt from my dresser, I toss it to her. “You can sleep naked or in one of my shirts. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
“Host’s choice.” She unzips the back of her dress, letting it fall to the floor as she wears nothing but her bra and panties and a smile.
“I know I said I wasn’t going to fuck you if you stayed the night tonight, but it’s going to be really hard to be a man of my word when you’re standing there, looking like that with those fuck-me lips of yours.”
I loosen my tie and work my buttons at a feverish pace as she unhooks her bra and steps out of her lace panties. I’m hard as a rock already. I guess I underestimated the big guy. He’s still got plenty of life in him tonight.
“Where do you want me?” Her smile is coy, her tits buoyant and peaked.
I study my little sex kitten, trying to decipher the correct arrangement of words to keep that smile planted on her lips and that slick heat between her thighs.
“On your knees,” I say.
She lowers herself, and I get it.
I understand why Delilah Rosewood likes to be treated like anyone but Delilah Rosewood in the bedroom. It’s freeing to be someone else.
Life is hard.
Sometimes we need a break.
Sometimes we need to be anyone else but ourselves because it’s the only time we’re free from our self-imposed shackles.
“Come closer. Let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours,” I growl, and she smiles wider, reaching for my cock and circling the base with her thumb and forefinger.
She brings her tongue to the tip, circling it before she slides the length of it down her throat, pumping the base in tandem, fluid movements.
“God, you give good head,” I groan. My mouth waters just thinking about how good she’s going to taste in a minute. “Get on the bed.”
Delilah pulls me out from between her lips, rises, and perches on the edge of the bed. I lie down in the middle, pulling her over me, her head positioned at my swollen cock and her slick pussy hovering over my mouth.
If this isn’t heaven, I don’t know what is.
Chapter 25
Delilah
“You’re the first fuck buddy I’ve ever had,” I blurt out as I’m washing breakfast dishes in the sink Wednesday morning. I’m standing in nothing but an apron wrapped around my naked body, arms elbow deep in bubbles and dishwater. “And you’ll probably be the last.”
Zane’s right brow inches up. “Why’s that?”
“I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else,” I say. “The no-strings thing. It’s hard. That’s what I was thinking about last night in the driveway – when you asked me.”
“All right. What’s hard about it?” He smirks, glancing down at his package. “Besides the obvious.”
“I don’t know. I guess . . . after last night. I just saw this other side of you. And then we made that pact.” I sigh. “I’m leaving in six weeks, give or take. I mean, is that it? I just say goodbye, hop on a plane, and never see you again? Like is this entire experience disposable to you?”
He circles the island, stepping into my space. His hand lands on the small of my back and he leans down to kiss the top of my head. His heat warms me; his touch sends shivers down my spine.