Beautiful Girl

by Shiloh Walker

  “Damn.”

  Vance laughed and clapped his hand on Blake’s shoulder. “Yeah, I can see now why you weren’t paying me any attention,” Vance said as Del met his eyes from across the room. A faint smile curved her lips up and she walked towards him.

  Blake started over to meet her, but Vance’s hand tightened. Looking back at Vance, he saw a serious look had come over Vance’s face. “Be careful, okay, Blake? She’s had a rough time.”

  If it was anybody other than Vance, discussing anybody other than Del, he would have told him to mind his own business. But with Vance, all he did was nod and say, “I know.”

  Blake had every intention of being very damn careful because there was no way he could let Del go. Not now.

  Although she still had that same hold over him that she’d always had, the woman moving towards him was definitely different. The smile on her lips wasn’t the flirtatious, sexy smile he remembered. It was a cool, confident smile, yet the look in her eyes was almost hesitant.

  He closed the distance between them and used the time to try and clear his head. It didn’t work. The need flowing through him had been building inside him for years. This was the girl he’d loved for nearly half his life, the girl he’d wanted more than anything. Seeing her like this just about laid him low.

  They came to a stop just shy of touching. “Hey.” He tried to find something funny to say, something that might make that faint, half-smile on her face bloom into a real one. But nothing came to mind except, “Shit, you look amazing.”

  Hardly funny or charming, but it must have been good enough for her. Her smile turned self-conscious and she ducked her head shyly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Then she slid her gaze over him and murmured, “You, too. You look damn good, considering the fact that you didn’t sleep more than three or four hours last night.”

  She looked back up at him and cocked her head. A couple of long, shiny strands of hair fell loose from the clip, framing her face just so, teasing her neck and shoulders. Blake wanted to tear the clip away, see all that long, dark hair fall around her shoulders and then he wanted to bury his hands in it and kiss her. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t reach for her. She asked, “How’s Beaumont Junior doing?”

  “Hanging in there.” He gave her a humorless smile. “Had the pleasure of your mama’s company for a few minutes. She came by to cluck over Beaumont and fulfill her duty as the gracious lady of the manor routine.”

  Del grimaced. “That’s my mother. Doesn’t miss an opportunity to put on her pretenses.”

  She fidgeted with her dress and unable to stop himself, Blake reached out and caught one of her hands, lifting it to his lips. “You look gorgeous.”

  He kissed her hand, watching her from under the fringe of lashes. A soft blush stained her cheeks pink, her cheeks, her neck…lower. He found himself staring at the neckline of her dress and he tore his gaze away as he realized he was ogling her breasts. He wanted to do more than ogle. He wanted to peel the dress off and lick her all over. Instead, he gestured to the dance floor. “You know, I never got to dance with you at my senior prom. Why don’t you make it up to me now?”

  The smile that curved her lips up hit him in the chest with the force of sledgehammer.

  “I’d love to.”

  He led her out onto the dance floor and guided her hands, first one, then the other up to his shoulders. From the speakers, Garth Brooks sang a song about unanswered prayers. Blake wasn’t much for praying. Back before he’d stopped asking God for anything, though, this had been a regular prayer—having this woman back in his arms.

  Maybe unanswered prayers weren’t the only thing to thank God for. At that moment, Blake was grateful for the answer to a prayer that had been a long time coming. Del moved against him awkwardly at first, her body tense, but bit by bit, she relaxed.

  “So did you miss me at your senior prom?” she asked, cuddling against him just like she used to.

  Lowering his head, he brushed a kiss against her cheek. He breathed in the soft, warm scent of her and managed to stifle his moan—just barely. His voice was hoarse as he told her, “Not a bit.”

  Tipping her head back, she asked, “Not even a little?”

  “Nope.” Then he smiled and confessed, “I didn’t go.” Cupping a hand over the back of her head, he eased her back against him. “Wasn’t interested.”

  Through the thin silk of her dress, he could feel the heat of her body and it was killing him. He could feel the soft, sweet weight of her breasts, the flat planes of her belly. His left hand rested at the small of her back and he was almost painfully aware of the rounded curve of her ass. Nuzzling her neck, he murmured, “Did you miss your prom?”

  Against his chest, Del smiled. “I missed half of my junior year and almost all of my senior year. The only prom I went to was your junior prom.”

  Blake stroked a hand up her back. “Then we have quite a few dances to catch up, don’t we? You think you can close your eyes and pretend you’re wearing some sexy little formal number and I’ve got my James Bond attire on? We can pretend there’s some half-assed wedding-type band on the stage and we’re going to dance just a few dances before we slip out to find someplace to go neck.”

  “Hmmmm.” Her gaze dropped to his lips. “Necking, huh?”

  “Yeah. Remember that junior prom? You had a pretty green dress on. Almost the same color as your eyes.”

  She laughed. “That wasn’t the prom, sugar. It was the dinner dance at the country club.”

  He shrugged. “Prom. Dinner dance. I had to wear a monkey suit for both of them, but it was worth it to see you. If the green dress was the dinner dance, then that pink number—it was the prom, right?”

  Del nodded. The pink number, as Blake called it, had been a designer dress she’d bought from a boutique in Lexington. Her breath hitched a little as she remembered that night. He’d peeled her out of her dress and if a county sheriff hadn’t shown up, he would have had her out of the strapless bra and her panties before too long.

  He cupped the back of her head, arching her head up to look at him. His lids were low, giving him a sleepy-eyed look as he murmured, “Yeah, that was prom, all right.” A wicked light entered his eyes. “That was the night I got to see the princess of Prescott wearing nothing but a lacy pink bra and lacy pink panties.”

  She felt her face burn and knew she must be blushing to the roots of her hair. “That was the night you stole those pink lace panties and wouldn’t give them back.”

  He grinned at her and bent down, pressing a quick, light kiss to her lips that set her blood to a slow boil. “Yeah…you’re right.” Pressing his lips to her ear, Blake murmured, “Can I tell you a secret…I still have them.”

  A startled, embarrassed laugh escaped her. “You do not.” Then she pulled away and looked at him. “Do you?”

  With a grin crooking his lips, he shrugged. “That’s kind of a pathetic thing to lie about, holding on to some pink silk panties for more than twelve years.” He brushed his fingers across her lower lip. “I also kept all the letters you sent me that summer while I was gone.” A harsh look tightened his face and he glanced around.

  He grabbed her hand and guided her off the dance floor and out the open doors that led to the patio. It wasn’t much quieter out there and he led her past the groups of laughing people into the gardens just beyond. It was darker out there, away from the lights of the patio, and quieter. From there, the sounds of the music were distant and faint.

  “I wish you would have said something, Dee—Del,” he corrected himself.

  She pressed a fingertip to his lips. “You can call me whatever you want, Blake.”

  He caught her hand in his wrist and pressed a kiss to her palm. “I kept those letters, Dee. I’ve read them so many times they’re practically falling apart. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I didn’t know what to say,” she responded. She gently tugged her hand away from his, then reached up, cu
pped his neck, tugging him closer. He dipped his head and she rose onto her toes, kissing him softly. “I wanted to say something. But I was too afraid. Too ashamed.”

  Tears burned her eyes and Blake swore softly. Bending his head, he kissed her eyes. “Don’t cry,” he pleaded. “Please, don’t cry.”

  He kissed her lips and she sighed into his mouth. He’d meant to make her feel better, that was all. She knew that. But it went from comforting to seductive in the span of heartbeats. His hands wrapped around her body, pulling her close and she groaned, arching into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung tight, opening her mouth to his and whimpering with pleasure as he pushed his tongue into her mouth.

  Against her breasts, she could feel that hard muscled wall of his chest, and the rapid beat of his heart. His hands roamed restlessly over her back and Del knew that he wanted more. Needed it—she could feel the hunger raging inside him and surprisingly, she felt it echoed in her own body. Damn it, she needed him.

  There were nights she’d lain awake at night, unable to sleep, so sick and lonely inside it hurt. She’d think of him, remember who she’d been before her life had fallen apart. Happy, innocent—and his. She’d wished, so often, that she could go back to being that girl.

  But she’d accepted a long time ago that there was no turning back the clock, that she and Blake just weren’t meant to be.

  Now, though, she had a chance. Not at turning back the clock—She couldn’t go back to the innocent girl she’d been, but she could be his.

  He wanted her—it was in the desperate, hungry way he kissed her and the way his hands roamed over her body like he couldn’t touch her enough. She could be his—and in that moment, she knew why she’d never been able to get close to the few men that had tried over the years. She couldn’t get close because she still belonged to Blake, heart and soul.

  She wanted more than that now—she needed to belong to him completely. Heart, soul and body. Pulling her head back, she looked up into his eyes. “I want you to take me home, Blake.”

  He swore raggedly. “Damn it, Del. I’m sorry. I’m moving too fast here.”

  Blake turned away and she reached out, grabbed his wrist. Under her fingertips, she felt the erratic beat of his pulse. It was beating as fast as her own. “No, Blake. I want you to take me to your home.”

  Slowly, holding his gaze with hers, she tugged him back to her and then she slid her hands inside the black blazer he wore. She curved her hands over his narrow waist and tugged his lower body into close contact with hers. “I want you to make love to me.”

  A harsh breath hissed out of him as he cupped her face in his hands. His eyes, dark with need, searched her face. “Damn it, Dee. Are you sure?” His hands were shaking, she realized.

  Confidence surged inside her. He wanted her so much that he was shaking with it. And still—he was careful not to rush her. In response, she turned her head and pressed her lips to his hand. Opening her lips, she nipped his palm. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” A deep sense of honesty had her admitting, “That doesn’t mean I can promise you I won’t freak out, but I want to try.”

  He slid his hands into her hair, arching her head back and gazing down into her eyes. He bent his head, kissing her gently. “All you have to do is say the word, baby, and I’ll stop.”

  “I know that. I’m just hoping I won’t get scared enough to make you.”

  Instead of going back into the country club, they took one of the garden paths back around to the parking lot. Neither of them said a word. The silence between them was taut with tension, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Del felt the searing heat of his gaze as he opened the door to his car. He held her hand while she climbed inside but instead of closing the door right away, he leaned in and took the seat belt from her, strapping her in. Bent over, his mouth was on level with her neck. Unable to resist, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her neck.

  When he placed his hand on her belly, she jumped. He eased back, looking into her eyes. “You okay?”

  Del swallowed around the knot in her throat and nodded.

  Sliding his hand upward, he cupped her breast. “You got no idea how many times I dreamed about just this,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  Terrified and excited all at once, Del forced herself to smile. “No. Probably not. I stopped letting myself dream a long time ago.” She arched into his hand and moaned when he circled his thumb around her nipple. “But I bet I missed out on a lot of really good dreams starring you.”

  A burst of raucous laughter rang through the night and they pulled away, slowly. A couple of ex-football players came tearing by, one of them holding a worn old ball tucked under his arm and two others running like mad to catch him.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  As he turned off the car’s ignition, Blake saw his hands were shaking. He glanced at Del’s face and saw her staring at the lake house with a look of bemusement. “I still live at the house with Mama. Had an apartment while I was in college but then I got sick…” His voice trailed off and he felt like an idiot, explaining that he hadn’t ever left home. “By the time the doctors decided I was in remission, Mama got sick and…well, she needed me.”

  She gazed at him, a smile on her mouth. “That’s sweet, Blake.” She touched the pad of her finger against his lower lip and asked, “You think I care if you live at home with your mom or not? I adore your mother.”

  “Yeah. Me, too. But I don’t want to take you to Bel Rive right now.” He didn’t want to go any place where he might have to share even five seconds of her attention. And he had no doubt that his mother would know if he brought Del home. She’d know—and come morning, she’d want them both down at breakfast and knowing Angel, she’d be working on wedding plans.

  He wasn’t opposed to planning a wedding, but it might be best to see how Del felt about it first.

  He climbed from the car and tried to use the next few seconds to clear his head and level out. God knew the last thing Blake wanted was to scare Del. Hurt her. Upset her in any way. But he was so damned desperate for her, he didn’t trust himself to stay in control.

  You have to, he told himself as he opened the door and took her hand to help her out. She laid her hand in his and climbed from the car. Then, with a smile, she closed the distance between them and pressed her body to his. “You used to bring me out here to make out.”

  He glanced at the cabin his great grandfather had built a good forty years before he’d been born. Each generation had built onto it and Blake was in the slow process of expanding the deck so he could put in a hot tub. “Did I really?” Not that he had forgotten. There had been times when he hadn’t come to the lake house more than once or twice a year just because the memories he had of Dee here had been enough to turn his gut into knots. “Maybe you should refresh my memory. I don’t recall that.”

  She laughed and slid her arms around his neck. “Hmmm. Is that so?” She pressed her lips to his. Blake fisted his hands to keep from grabbing her as she traced the line of his mouth with her tongue. He opened for her and she kissed him deeper. Through their clothes, he felt her body shudder and she moaned. The sound of that hungry female moan hit him, low and hard.

  “Remember yet?”

  “Not a bit,” he lied. He pulled his hands out of his pockets slowly, slid them around her waist. He watched her face, looking for some sign of fear or worry, but all he saw was an echo of the hunger he felt inside.

  “Maybe you should take me inside then. I’ll see if I can’t refresh your memory a little better.”

  Bending his knees, he slid an arm under her legs and scooped her up into his arms. “Might not be a bad idea.”

  She smiled at him. “You still got that old couch in the game room? We could try there, see if that doesn’t tickle some memory.”

  Blake shook his head. “No. Got rid of that a while back. Don’t worry—I’ve got something better.” The night was cool and he knew exactly where he wanted her. In
his room, with the windows open so the breeze from the lake would drift in while he stripped her naked and laid her on his bed.

  It took a little bit of work to unlock the door with her in his arms, but she didn’t seem in any hurry to let go of him and Blake sure as hell had no desire to let go of her. He finally managed to get it open and he kicked it shut behind him before carrying her up the stairs to the newest addition to the lake house. His room faced out over the lake and had a series of French doors that could be opened in cooler weather. Lowering her to her feet he flicked on the light and then he went and opened each of the three French doors, letting the breeze in.

  It drifted in, making the mosquito netting that draped over the bed billow. “I love coming out here on nights like this, sleeping with the doors open.” He led her to the bed and brushed the netting aside before he picked her up and put her down on the mattress. “I’ve had a million dreams like this, of you coming back home, coming back to me. I’d bring you and make love to you on this bed.”

  Kneeling beside her, he placed his hand on the soft, delicate curve of her belly and he murmured, “I didn’t ever expect it to happen though.”

  She reached up, pressed her hand to his cheek. He turned his head, kissing her palm. “Nothing has to happen,” he whispered, looking back at her. “If you want me to stop, just say it. I will.”

  Del smiled and slid her hand around the back of his neck, tugging him down to her. “I know. But I don’t want to think about that. Kiss me, Blake. I always loved it when you kissed me.”