by L. J. Woods
Gabriel: Answer me
My foot bounces against the carpeted stage, my heartbeat pattering against my chest. Is this shit over already? Did I fuck up that bad?
When my phone buzzes, I jump, my dad looking back at me. Waving him off, he continues speaking to the small crowd.
Delilah: your a cock godfrey
I smirk, a burst in my chest and it suddenly feels lighter.
Gabriel: You’re* You thinking about my cock?
Delilah: ya i might be thinking about a cock’s cock.
A little snort escapes me, getting my dad to turn around as he’s listing off some church announcements. It’s only a matter of time before I have to cut this dirty flirting short but I’m happy she’s not too mad to text me back. I’ll have to remember to own up to my shit if I’m gonna make this thing with Delilah work.
Whatever this is.
Her next text proves it.
Delilah: why are you sorry
But I don’t play anyone else’s games except mine.
Gabriel: For not staying back at your grandma’s and fucking you senseless
Then I get an idea.
Gabriel: Meet me there at 10? I’m leading youth service [skull and crossbones emoji]
Delilah: but im naked now
Fuck. My lip tucks under my teeth as I re-read the text. The image of her naked body in my mind brings a smirk to my lips, a hit to my abs. So I call her on her bluff.
Gabriel: Liar.
Delilah: tell that to these perky ds
Goddamn.
Gabriel: Prove it.
“My son will be leading the youth in service in one of the upstairs rooms.” My dad gestures towards me just as Delilah sends me a photo. My body stiffens in my seat, a twitch of my cock.
Those beautiful brown tits are the main thing in view. She proves she’s as wild as she lets on, the way she’s included that pretty face. She’s sticking her tongue out at me in that cheeky little way and I can only think one thing.
Mine.
It’s all I can think about as my dad takes another thirty fucking minutes to wrap up whatever the hell he’s saying. Finally, he clears his throat at me, and when I look up, Hazel’s leading the younger members of the church towards the door.
When I get up, my phone buzzes again. Another photo. Delilah’s tits sit squished between her arms like something I want to die in. Warm. Soft. Cozy.
“Go get ‘em, Hammer,” Dad says, patting me on the back with an approving smile.
I pull the phone out of his line of sight before I pull it to my face again. A twitch in my pants. I don’t realize I’m standing in front of the main room doors until Hazel calls to me. “You coming?”
There’s nowhere else I rather be than with Delilah. That pull is too strong to ignore. So are her tits.
“Can you lead them?” The question comes out before I even consider it. Or the consequences. “You know all this shit, right?” I hold out the Bible in my hand like it’s last years’ math textbook.
“This shit?” she asks, approaching me with hesitation, grey sweater falling off her arms. “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Are you sick?”
“Yeah.” Twisted. Obsessed. “You got this.” I leave her standing there tugging the cross on her necklace before I push through the church doors.
“Woah.”
Delilah stands in front of the doors when I open them in another cut-off shirt. Her nipples pucker through the fabric. No bra.
My hands come to her waist, the feel of her body feeling like a healing elixir. “The fuck are you doing?” She’s crazy showing up here like this in cut-off shorts, those thighs tempting me to bite them.
She holds a broken stick in her hand, pushing it between us. “I was coming to get you out.”
I laugh, my face lowering so I can meet those fiery eyes. “By fighting everyone inside?”
“It was supposed to be an emergency. You know, like …” She waves her hand in the air. “Ahhh! Oh my god, all your sticks are broken. What’re we gonna do?”
“What do you mean?” I keep my voice low even though I know no one can hear me. It’s like a sick twisted secret having her here like this. “You know exactly what happened the last time you fucked with my sticks.”
Something in my chest pangs. Delilah would go to this length to get me out of a place I don’t wanna be. Something I can’t even rely on my parents to do. Or even me.
She narrows her eyes. “You gonna plunge me in the water again?”
The urge to have my way with her is unreal and something else takes over. The same pull that has me reaching for those lines. It’s obsessive. Possessive and I want her. I need her.
Now.
“No.” Pulling on her arm, I lead her back inside the church, making sure the coast is clear and I’m surprised she doesn’t turn into a pillar of salt standing in the lobby. Hazel’s gone, my dad in the main room but I know one place no one will be for a while. “But I am gonna punish you.”
“I should be the one punishing you.” She brings her lips close to mine and she doesn’t even care that we’re standing in the middle of the hall when our lips connect again.
Like magnets, we’re all over each other. Delilah’s against the wall before I pick her up, wrapping her legs around me and if anybody finds me like this, I’m fucked. Especially when I’m supposed to be giving my own sermon but the only sermon I wanna give is on this body.
We push through the doors of my dad’s office before I’m plopping her on the desk, pulling her shirt above her head, and showing her who these tits belong to. Who she belongs to. Me.
“What if we get caught?” she asks, looking over her shoulder. The main room sits over a rail below and if we’re too loud, they’re sure to hear us. “What are people gonna say if they see Pastor Godfrey’s boy all over the devil child?”
“Be quiet.” My cock is already hard when I push down my pants and when I push inside her, I don’t take my eyes off her. She makes those sexy little faces when I fuck her like I own her. I’m more frantic with my movements this time, her bare ass against the table, my hands on her skin, pulling her as close as I can to me with every hard thrust.
“God, yes!” she sighs in my ear and that makes me go faster. Harder.
“That’s right,” I groan, soft enough so anyone below can’t hear. Raking my fingers through her hair until her head pulls back, her neck reveals to me. Running my tongue along her skin, it’s like I want every bit of her as a part of me. I match my thrusts with my needs. Every. Fucking. Inch. “Who am I?” I groan against her neck.
“Fucking God!” she moans, the desk knocking against the wooden floor and I’m too far gone to care about the study going on downstairs. The stomping and clapping from the people in the spirit coincide with how I’m feeling. It hides our groans, her moans and the sounds of our heated ecstasy. “Jesus. Fucking. Christ!” Dee moans in my ear and it makes me pull out, exploding all over her chest like I’m painting a fucking masterpiece.
She’s out of breath, staring at me with more of those fuck-me eyes. They move to the floor and I’m wondering if she’s having second thoughts, so I lift her chin with my thumb, stroking her soft skin. “Don’t leave me with my cock in my hand, Daniels. Where’d you go?” Glancing over the rail, it seems we’ve kept it quiet enough.
She blinks as if she’s snapping back. “Did you see those videos? Of the girls?”
“I just gave you the second coming of Christ and you’re asking me about some videos?”
She winces. “Sorry. I’m not a romantic.”
“You don’t have to be. But right now all I want to talk about is where I’m gonna fuck you next.”
That brings her back to reality, a smile growing on her face. “Round two, Godfrey?”
We’re hardly dressed before I’m lifting her, moving towards the rail. “You fucking bet.”
Twenty-Five
Delilah
Gabe stays the night.
&nb
sp; And I mean the entire night. But things with Gabe aren’t easy. They never are and when I wake up, he’s gone again.
Pushing off my bed, there’s a note beside me in Gabe’s neat handwriting.
Practice.
Text when awake. -God
At least he’s not outright ignoring me. The smile he leaves on my face makes it easy to get ready for school. Kilt and all. But I can’t get the image from last night out of my head. It’s not the one you’re thinking of.
Sure, Gabe fucking rocks my world when it comes to having sex and it’s crazy to think I’ve had sex with him five times in a matter of a couple of days. But there’s one thing that’s as concerning as fucking my brother’s best friend.
That rug.
That room.
My phone buzzes on the wood beside my lava lamp. Gabe’s name lights up the phone, my stomach jumping when I grab it.
Gabe: You up?
Gabe: Coming to get you
At the same time, Hazel texts, asking if I need a ride. I’m already grabbing my board when I text them both “no”, telling Gabe to focus on his hockey even when he protests.
Gabe: Do what I say
Delilah: [middle finger emoji]
Ignoring his demands, I drop the board to the concrete. I need some time to think. With the wind flowing through my hair, I’m trying to remember everything in that room.
I’ve seen that rug before. Time and time again. The kicker? I’m pretty sure it was the same one that was in that video. I’m a space-case all the way to my locker, a janitor telling me I can’t board through the halls before I realize that I am. I’m almost at my first class when something grabs me, pulling me out the hall and into a room with a glass ceiling, gym equipment and a rock wall.
“You’re here,” Gabe’s growl hits my ear when my back hits a glass wall, his scent overtakes me as the room disappears.
“Well, hello,” I smirk against his face when he comes in for a kiss. “Eager beaver?”
“Eager for your beaver,” he cocks a brow like he’s already defending his corny joke before he looks behind him. “Everyone get out.” There’s only a handful of students working out, one laying on a bench texting on his phone. Gabe turns around, clapping. “Hey! I need this room! Now!”
People look his way and when they see who it is, they all scramble towards the door. When the room is clear, he goes to the door, turning the lock before he approaches me. His eyes wander my body from head to toe, my stomach twisting before he drops to his knees. “God, I’ve missed this.”
“You only left this morning.” My words turn into a sigh when his teeth graze the skin on my thigh before he pushes my kilt away, looking at me with those eyes. They’re different. Less glossy. Less dilated. “Wait, are you sober?”
“And craving Delilah.” His tongue parts my folds and I remember what heaven feels like. Complete. Absolute. Bliss. His hands roam my ass, keeping me on his face while his tongue explores every crevice, every fold and all over my clit with intense hunger. Before I can grab a grip, my feet lift off the ground before he drops me underneath a pull-up bar.
“This is better than any fucking drug, Dee.” I look over at the door and around at the glass walls but he doesn’t seem bothered. And that thrills me even more. He lifts my hands to the bars. “Stay there. And hang on.”
“Whyyyyy?” I hardly get the word out of my mouth before he pushes inside me, his tongue sliding up my spine that makes me grip the bars harder. “Fucck yesss,” I moan, my head to the glass ceiling, the sun bursting through.
“When I call, you answer.” He thrusts into me like a madman mining for gold, his hips slapping against my ass.
It’s almost too good for me to check him. “You don’t tell me what to do.” My hands drop from the rail, before he wraps his fist around my hair, pulling my head back.
“Yes.” Thrust. “I.” Thrust. “Do!” His cock drives into me again and again and I forget about feeling alone. Forget about feeling on my own. He’s everything I need to feel alive. He stops, his hands cupping my tits, pinching my nipples. “And if you want me to keep making you scream for the heavens, you’ll keep your hands on that bar.” Releasing his grasp on my hair, he places my hands back. My toes tip up before he drives into me again, giving me another burst of pleasure and pain as he sinks his teeth in my skin.
“This how you get your power, Gabe?” The room blurs around me as I reach that sweet, addicting peak. He picks up his pace. “You want to control me?” He moves faster, the tip of his cock hitting my spot, making my knees weak.
“I own this body,” he grunts, a smack coming to my ass, sparks flying through me from the sting of his touch. “I own this ass.” His voice lands in my ear. “I own you.”
I see fucking god. My grip is so tight on the metal, my forearms burn when he makes me come on his cock. But he doesn’t let up. He keeps going until another one rips through me, my cries ringing through the room. When I can’t hold on any longer, he catches me in his arms, our bodies dropping to the floor.
“Holy fuck,” I murmur. Gabe chuckles, holding me close. “Was that my punishment for not answering your calls? ‘Cause that’s only gonna make me want to do it again.”
His words land in my hair. “Trouble.”
We sit there for a moment in comfortable silence, our sweaty bodies pressed together and dare I say this is as good as when he’s fucking me senseless. When I try to get up, he pulls me right back, like he never wants to let go and I’m not sure if I ever want him to.
Flashbacks of our bodies entangled in all sorts of positions over the last couple of days play through my mind. Our lovemaking is so intense that I forget about all the pain. All the trauma.
Wait, lovemaking?
Is that what you call fucking on his dad’s desk? On the rail over the church while he gives his sermon? In the campus gym?
Shit. His dad. That rug.
“Hey.” Sitting up a little, I chew on my lip before I continue. “That rug in your dad’s office. It looks like the same rug from those videos, right? And the room?”
He takes a moment before his chin lifts off my shoulder. “Sammy’s video?”
Cooocks. The room tilts.
Pulling from his chest, nausea builds in my stomach and I’m afraid to look at him. “Is that why you—Holy shit, Gabe is that why you wanted to take care of her body? What did you do!?”
“Woah, woah, woah.” Now he’s pushing me off, standing up as he reaches for his shirt. Then he looks at me like I’m off my rocker. “What’re you saying, Dee?”
Folding my arm across my tits, I stand. “What do you know about Sammy’s death?”
“The fuck? Nothing! I told you that.” Then he gets in my face, from zero to one-hundred like a fucking racecar. “And the fact that you’d still suggest that doesn’t sit right with me.”
“As if I give a fuck,” I say, his reaction doing more damage to his reputation right now than good. “What do you know, Gabe?”
“All this because of a rug? Right after we—” he scoffs, shaking his head. “This is fucking rich, Deliah. You can’t even let us have one fucking moment.”
“Like the moment we had when your parents showed up? Like that moment when you disrespected me in front of them?”
“Is that what this is about? My fucking parents?” Most of his clothes are on now as he tightens the belt around his waist.
“No! You were shady about Elijah, now you’re being shady about this too!”
“I don’t know anything about those videos, Delilah, but whatever this is you’re doing?” His finger waves all over my body. “I don’t like it.”
“How am I supposed to trust you, Gabe? After that?”
“Fuuuck!” He bangs his palm against the metal of the machine next to us and I watch him, eyebrow raised before he settles, resting his head against it. After a beat, he reaches out a hand, turning his head to me, forehead still against the post. “Come here, Dee.”
“No.”
; “Dee.” His shoulders drop and now I know I’m being difficult. Maybe he’ll explain. So I give in to that pull, the one telling me to put this shit aside and hear him out. When he touches me again, that warmth comes over me. And I don’t know whether to love it or hate it. “Come over tonight. You can see my folks and you can see that I had nothing to do with this.”
I hesitate. While I talk a lot of shit, I didn’t expect that. And while I’m an idiot to put myself through another dinner with Godfreys, I agree. I need to see this shit for myself.
Pulling away, he looks at me, my shirt hardly buttoned before I head for the door. “See you at dinner, Godfrey.”
Twenty-Six
Delilah
“Ready?”
Gabe’s looking in my eyes like he’s begging me to say no. Like he’s regretting his decision but I’m doing this. No backing down now. If he’s got nothing to hide, I want to be sure.
Gabe suggested, okay, demanded, I wear something more Godfrey-appropriate than my tie-dye shirt. When nothing I picked at Nani’s house worked, I took his top, using his belt to cinch in the waist. It’s massive on me, coming down to my knees and since he’s so bothered about my outfit, he can find something else to wear.
Nodding, his shoulders drop as he opens the door. “Do what I say.”
Following him reveals all I’ve forgotten about the Godfrey Mansion. It’s a modern spectacle, square and rectangular shapes making up the large, two-floor building. There’s even a fucking statue to the side of the front door. A cross.
Once inside, it’s as modern as the exterior. Everything’s white. Walls, flowers, and furniture. I’m likely the only brown thing in here.
“Hammer?” Penelope calls from a room. Can’t believe his parents still call him that. If they only knew where he got it from.
Walking down the large main hall, we pass photos of who everyone thinks Gabe is. All prim and proper next to his prim and proper parents. In one photo, he even has a bible in hand. In the next, he’s standing beside famous country singer, Barrie Overwood. He’s not the only celebrity in view. Conway East, Dustin Weeber, and Fierce Osman all made the Godfrey wall cut.