by Remy Rose
But right now, I’m driving to Delaney’s from the office. She asked me if she could take Tucker to work with her again today. I jokingly told her I was getting a little jealous and that he might start thinking he belongs to her, and she laughed and said I had reason to worry.
I’m good with him thinking he belongs to her.
He’s glad to see me when I walk in Delaney’s door—gives a stiff little hop with his front legs coming off the floor and wags his whole butt, smacking his tail against the wall. “Hey, T-Man. You miss me today?”
“He did.” Delaney appears, holding a glass of red wine in her hands. She’s smiling and looking pretty relaxed. I’m glad about that.
“Is he the only one?”
She’s blushing. It makes me smile. I don’t think I could ever get tired of seeing her reaction when I tease her.
“No,” she says, lifting her eyes and looking straight at me. “He’s not.”
Well, damn. She looks cute and sexy in a white t-shirt and faded jeans, her hair up in a ponytail. There’s a moment building between us here—the kind of moment that makes me want to scoop her up and carry her into the bedroom. I’ve got to change the subject here. I don’t want to do anything she’s not ready for.
I drop my gaze and rub Tucker’s ears as he leans into me. “You want to go out to dinner?”
“I thought we’d stay in, if that’s okay. Seeing as it’s your last night—you know, sleeping over here.”
“Sure.”
“I made some lasagna...just need to put it in the oven.”
“I’m going to miss your cooking.”
“Is that all you’ll miss?”
I’m liking this flirty mood she’s in. “Uh, no. That’s definitely not all.” I point to the glass of wine. “I see you’re pre-gaming. What’re you drinking?”
“Chianti. I’ll pour you a glass.”
Tucker follows us into the kitchen, his nails clicking on the tile, and flops down under the table with a grunt. I open the cupboard and start setting the table. Delaney catches my eye and flashes me a little smile. I like this, knowing where she keeps stuff. If only Gloria could see us right now...she’d be hard-pressed to deny that we aren’t in a real relationship.
Jesus. It hits me, all of a sudden: I’d be hard-pressed to deny that we aren’t in a real relationship.
When the fuck did this happen? You’ve got a guy who’s always been a commitment-phobe since his bitch of a mother split up with his asshole of a father. And you’ve got a girl whose college boyfriend betrayed her, leaving her with major trust and intimacy issues, entering into a contractual relationship with said guy for financial purposes only.
Match made in heaven, right there. Should be a recipe for disaster.
Only, it’s not.
“I can’t believe that Memory Lane Café opens in eight days,” she says, sliding the pan of lasagna in the oven.
“Crazy. Seems like it got here so fast. Do you feel ready?”
“Nope.”
“How can I help?”
“Oh, you mean besides buying the place for me?” She widens her eyes and grins. “I mean, that was kind of helpful.”
“I want to make sure you have everything you need so that this gets off to a great start. I want this to succeed.”
“Thank you.” Her voice and eyes are soft. “I think I’ll be all set, but thank you.”
We make a salad while we’re waiting for the lasagna. I’m cutting up a carrot when Tucker gets up and meanders over, his ears lifted with interest. I toss him a piece and he snaps it up like it’s filet mignon.
“Apparently, your dog’s into healthy eating.” Delaney nods at him and grins as she breaks apart the head of lettuce.
“Smart pup.”
“He’s going to love your new place, right on the water. A Lab’s dream.”
“Definitely.”
“You must be excited to move in tomorrow.”
I look over at her, sensing a slight change in her tone. She’s tearing off chunks of lettuce and dropping them in the colander and looks up at me with an overly-bright smile.
“Yeah...I am. But I’ll be honest—I’m going to miss the sleepovers here.”
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Me too.”
“Pretty sure you like me more than you did when we first met.”
“That’s really not saying much, seeing as I couldn’t stand you when we first met.”
“Bullshit. You were crazy about me but didn’t want to admit it. Still don’t.”
She’s rolling her eyes, blushing like crazy as she puts the colander under the sink to rinse the lettuce. “Someone’s awfully sure about himself, isn’t he, Tucker?”
“Just reading the signs, Sprite.”
“Signs? What signs?” She draws in her eyebrows like she’s pretending to be confused, and then I can’t stop myself. She’s so fucking cute and so fucking hot, and I’m getting a vibe that she wants me to go there, so I do.
“Signs that you’re crazy about me. Like the way your face turns red when I look at you, and how you try to act like you’re not totally turned on to be in the same room with me. How your breathing picks up when I’m close to you—the way your chest rises and falls when we make eye contact. The way your nipples get hard through your shirt. The way you look at my mouth when you think I won’t notice. Only I do, Delaney. I notice all of those things.”
Her lips open as her eyes widen in amazement. Her nostrils are flaring a little, and there goes her chest, rising up and down. She folds her arms over her breasts, but not before I see those pert little knobs through her shirt. Knobs I’d like to tweak and suck.
Christ, this is getting dangerous. I feel my cock start to stiffen. I’ll be showing a very obvious sign of my own if I don’t start thinking with the right head. I’ll use humor to diffuse the situation.
“You want me to put in a cucumber?” I wink at her. “In the salad, I mean.”
Delaney shakes her head and rolls her eyes, biting her lip to keep from smiling. “For God’s sake, I just—I can’t, with you.”
“Sorry. I’ll try to be good. You just make it very...hard. Rock hard.”
“Stop.” She tugs at the sink sprayer and aims it at me, trying not to crack up.
I hold out my arms like I’m surrendering. “Hey, it’s only fair. I got you wet, so...”
Then she squirts me, which I so deserve, and I’m laughing hard. Tucker’s barking, Delaney’s giggling, and we’re dancing around like a couple of ten-year-olds. I’m trying to grab her arm and avoid getting soaked as the water sprays all over the kitchen.
Juvenile as hell, but it’s one of the best times I’ve ever had.
We’re still chuckling as we wipe up the water with dish towels. The timer for the lasagna dings, we sit down to eat, and it’s almost like there’s this post-orgasmic buzz in the kitchen, only it was from the total joy you get from laughing hard with someone you really care about.
Never has happened to me before.
Delaney refills our wine glasses and sits back down. “So, serious question. Was your mother ever nice? Like when you were growing up?”
I shrug. “If she was, I really don’t remember.”
“Ugh. That just makes me sad.”
“She was just very driven. It’s like she didn’t have time to be nice. She could be ruthless in her business dealings, so I guess that extended into her home life. And from what I can gather, she didn’t exactly have the best role models in her own parents.”
“Were you well-behaved or a pain in the ass?”
“What do you think?”
She grins. “I’d have to go with the latter.”
“And you’d be right. I wasn’t horrible, but I was kind of a rebel, even when I was little. I remember when I was four, my mother had tried everything to get me to behave—time-outs, taking shit away from me, even spanking. Nothing worked, so she told me that if I didn’t mind her, she’d call up Bart at the town dump to come and bab
ysit me.”
“Whaat?”
“Yep. Bart was supposedly this huge, mean guy who smelled bad, and parents could call him when their kids were being naughty. All my mother would have to do was pretend to pick up the phone, and I’d smarten up.”
Delaney covers her mouth with her hand and stifles a giggle. “My God. That’s so cruel. No wonder you’re so messed up.”
“I’m not messed up.”
“Oh, yes you are. You just think you’re not. And that’s sometimes the worst kind of messed up.” She frowns thoughtfully, tapping her lips with her index finger. “Let’s see. What else can I ask you...”
“I’m digging that you find me so fascinating.”
“I don’t. At all, really. Just making polite dinner conversation. So we’ve talked past; let’s talk future. What do you like most about summer?”
This is easy. Summer in Maine rocks. “How much time you got?”
Delaney smiles, settling back in her chair and folding her arms. “All night.”
“There’s a lot I like about summer. Getting up early to go for a run, when the air is still cool from the night before. Warm, salty sea breezes. The way the tide sucks the sand out from under your feet when you’re standing on the beach—I used to get a kick out of that as a little kid, and I guess I still do. Sunsets over the ocean—the way the image kind of trembles on the surface. But my favorite thing about summer has to be the nights. It’s the feeling summer nights give you, like you’re back in high school, and forever stretches in front of you like some long road—the nights do, too. I like dusk and crickets, and how the air on a summer night is filled with this sort of cosmic anticipation—like maybe I’ll kiss her tonight under the stars. Maybe she’ll let me do more. Maybe...we’ll fall in love. Anything is possible on a summer night.”
I glance over at Delaney who’s full-on staring at me with her mouth open, like she’s seeing me for the first time. Shit. Shared a little too much.
I raise my wine glass, put on my best smirk. “Must be the alcohol talking.”
But it’s no use. She heard me, and she’s not buying that it’s the wine. “My God, Damon—you have a major sensitive side.” Sheer delight is glowing on her face.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you so do! I just saw it, and I’ve seen it with the big black dog under the table. Plus, you like Pretty Woman.”
She looks as triumphant as if she’s discovered a new planet. Fuck. It’s not like I can deny any of what she’s saying. But I do have an image to maintain.
“I like seeing your soft side,” she says, her blue eyes dancing. “As well as your hard side.”
And there it is again—the moment taking hold, starting to stir the embers of our smoldering coals. I feel the anticipation. A summer night in May.
You’re playing with fire, little girl.
I lock eyes with her. A half-smile tugs at her mouth like she knows something that I don’t. Then she pushes back in her chair and takes her empty plate and glass to the sink. I’m not sure what to make of what just happened, but she’s in charge.
After cleaning up the kitchen, we play a word game called Bananagrams, and she kicks my ass. Then we change it so you can only spell out dirty words, and she kicks my ass again. She asks me to be the guinea pig for these raspberry streusel squares she baked. Like everything she makes, they’re delicious. And after I toss him a piece, I find out they’re also Tucker-approved.
At 10:30, we get ready for bed. She’s quiet as I come out of the bathroom and isn’t looking at me.
I reach out to touch her on the shoulder. “Hey. You okay?”
“I think so.” She sighs, smiling ruefully.
“Do you want to talk?”
“I think I’ll just go to bed. But thank you.”
At 10:45, I’m unfolding the blanket Delaney left on the couch. Tucker’s laying on the braided rug when he lifts his head and starts thumping his tail. A pair of arms go around my waist, and then I feel Delaney’s head pressing into the middle of my back. I straighten up, and my cock instantly responds. Christ, the most innocent touch from this girl, and I stand at attention.
I want to turn around, but I’m in my boxers and not wanting to freak her out by my budding erection. I stand, waiting for her to make the next move.
She tightens her hold on me. “Thank you, Damon,” she whispers. “For being so patient with me.”
I put my hands on her arms and give her a little squeeze. “No need to thank me, Sprite. It’s all about what you need. Always.”
A big sigh from her. I can feel her nose against my bare back. And then she releases me, walks back into her room and closes the door.
A big sigh from me. She’s got me aching, and I’m going to need to take care of things. I lay down on the couch on top of the blanket and reach into my boxers, grasping my cock. A fist fuck is going to have to do tonight.
I close my eyes and slide my hand up and down my shaft, pretending it’s Delaney’s hand. Delaney’s mouth. Delaney’s tight pussy. The thought that she’s just down the hall is driving me fucking insane. I’m vaguely aware of Tucker snoring, and then the thump of his tail.
Which always indicates someone has just walked into the room.
Namely, Delaney.
My eyes flash open. She’s caught me with my hand around my cock, and my first feeling is one of embarrassment—until I see her.
She’s wearing a silky white negligee, looking like some sort of angel with the dim hallway light illuminating her from behind. Her hair is a blonde free-fall, loose and curly at her bare shoulders.
And her face. Fierce with unmistakable desire.
I swallow, hard, as I withdraw my hand, my erection throbbing. “Sorry, Sprite. Had to take matters in my own hands. It’s the effect you have on me.”
“Don’t apologize.” Her voice sounds low and soft. “I’m glad.”
She moves toward me. It’s like a dream. “I missed you, Damon.”
“I missed you, too.”
She reaches out a small hand. I take it. “Come to bed with me?”
I get up off the couch and start to follow her, my cock straining like it’s leading the way. I need to tell her something, first.
“Sprite. Got to be honest with you. I’m so fucking horny for you that I don’t think I’ll be able to just lay beside you and not touch you. I can’t. Not tonight. So you may want to go back in your room alone.”
Delaney looks up at me and what I see in her eyes makes my gut clench, my dick throb, my chest swell. “I don’t want to be alone. I want you...all of you.”
Fuck, what this little girl does to me. I squeeze her hand. “I want you, too, babe. Bad. I’m going to show you just how much.” I grab my jeans off the floor and fumble in the pocket for my wallet where I’ve got a couple of condoms. I didn’t want to be presumptuous, just prepared—and hopeful.
Delaney’s watching me. I can see her nipples protruding through the thin white fabric, color spreading out across her chest as she lets out a little sigh. We walk into her room. The sheets and covers on the bed are pulled back—an open invitation.
She turns around to look at me, her expression full of expectation and vulnerability. I toss the condom packets on the end of the bed, take her face in my hands and stare down into those beautiful blue eyes glistening with tears she’s trying to hold back. “I want to make love to you, Delaney. I’m going to make you feel good about being with a man again.”
A little choked cry, her voice just a whisper. “God, I want you, Damon. I don’t want to stop this time.”
I fucking have to kiss her. Right now. I bend down and seize her mouth. She parts her lips eagerly, her tongue seeking mine. She tastes so good—warm, minty—and is making these little whimpery sighs that are practically begging me to fuck her.
“Lay down on the bed.” I switch to dominant mode, knowing instinctively that’s what she wants.
She obeys me. I rake my eyes over her and take in how the fabric of the neg
ligee is taut across her perfect breasts, see the way it just barely covers her slender thighs. I’m already about out of my mind wanting to touch her, find out how wet she is.
With my tongue.
I climb on the bed, straddle her and kiss her hard till we’re both breathless, then move down a bit lower so I can rub her nipples through the fabric, pinching them gently between my fingers until I’m rewarded with a moan. She’s shivering and writhing as I slip my fingers below the waistband of her white panties.
Makes me smile. “Little sensitive, aren’t we, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she breathes.
“I like that. You’re going to need to brace yourself, though, because it’s about to get a lot more intense.” I hear her sharp little intake of breath as I slide her panties down and off. “Spread your legs.”
She does. I work myself down the bed until my mouth is hovering over her glistening pussy. I start by kissing the mound of fine blonde hair as she twists on the bed and grabs the sheet. “Stay still, babe, with your legs apart.” I kiss all around her hard pink pearl. “You wanted this, didn’t you? You’ve thought about my tongue on your clit.”
“God, Damon!”
“Didn’t you?”
She’s writhing again, forcing out a husky answer. “Yes.”
“How bad do you want me?”
“Jesus...please. I want you so much. Please fuck me.”
It takes every bit of will power I have not to flip her over and fuck her hard, doggie-style. But that’s not how our first time is going to be.
“Oh, I’m going to, babe. But first things first.” I start running my tongue up her inner lips, swirling it around in a circle where she wants it most. She’s fucking drenched. I push two fingers into her, deep, and flick my tongue over her swollen clit as she cries out my name. I can’t wait any longer to be inside her.
I give her one last gentle suck before taking my mouth off her, then grab a condom and kneel on the bed. “Look at me, babe,” I tell her. “Keep your eyes open.”