He hovered beneath the archway to her kitchen, taking a few moments before revealing his presence so that he could observe - and appreciate - the really, really fine sight that greeted his eyes.
She was busily stirring what looked like scrambled eggs, and then turned over slices of sizzling bacon before flipping thick slices of French toast. The smell of freshly brewed coffee lured him deeper inside the kitchen, but she still wasn’t aware of his presence. Delilah’s dark hair was loose, waving seductively about her shoulders and back, her small but curvy body clothed in a robe similar to the one he’d seen her in the morning he’d brought her the croissants. This robe was of cream satin, loosely belted at the waist, and gapped open just enough to expose the soft, rounded mounds of her breasts.
Breasts that he’d paid a whole lot of attention to last night, he recalled with a very satisfied smile. Finn stifled a groan as he thought of how sweet those tight pink nipples had tasted beneath his tongue, or of how soft the heavy weight of those tits had felt in his palms. And of how delectable her skin had smelled when he had buried his face in her cleavage.
Skin that had been equally as soft and that had smelled just as delicious on every inch of her body. He didn’t think he’d bypassed even one tiny part of her, kissing and caressing every hollow and curve - from the spot behind her ear to the crook of her elbow, from her concave belly to the dainty arch of her foot. He’d squeezed her ass, fondled her breasts, and tasted the most intimate part of her, using his lips, tongue, and teeth to bring her to another screaming orgasm.
He grew instantly hard as he recalled that Delilah had been just as eager to touch and pleasure him as well, her small hands roving freely over his body, along with her lips and that wicked little pink tongue. And she had been all too happy to return the favor he had bestowed on her, taking nearly the entire length of his thick, throbbing cock into her mouth, sucking him eagerly until he’d jerked away, preferring to be buried deep inside her hot body when he came - a pleasure he’d enjoyed multiple times during the night and very early this morning.
Finn grinned as he counted half a dozen tiny bite marks on his arms and legs - and those were just the ones visible at the moment. His little she-devil was apparently a bloodthirsty tigress when aroused, using not only her teeth but her nails as well to mark him. She was easily the most passionate woman he’d ever fucked - no, he corrected himself firmly - the most passionate woman he’d ever made love to. Delilah was nothing like any of the countless other women he’d screwed over the years, was so far above any of them that there could never be any comparison. Not even taking her refined manners or classy upbringing into account, there was a fineness about her, a dignity, something that would always place her head and shoulders above any other female on this planet. And that indefinable something didn’t even take into account her lusty passion, her eager responses, or her obvious enjoyment of what for him had been the most exciting sexual experience of his life.
She turned in his direction then, giving a little start of surprise at seeing him there, but then smiling at him warmly. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she greeted. “I tried to be as quiet as I could. Sorry if I woke you.”
He waved a hand in dismissal, then crossed the floor in two long strides until he could pull her into his arms. “I wish you had woken me,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against her neck. “I have a feeling I would have really enjoyed your particular brand of wake-up call.”
“Hmm. Didn’t you get enough last night? And this morning?” she teased. “Good thing I had plenty of condoms on hand.”
Finn’s hands slid down to cup her ass, pulling her body flush against his before slowly moving her up and down his fully aroused cock. “Not that I wasn’t grateful - not to mention relieved - to discover you had a stash, but it also made me wonder how, uh, often you put it to use.”
Delilah smacked him playfully on the butt. “Not nearly as often as you might think. I’m - let’s call it picky about who I allow into my bed. Or whose bed I accept an invitation to share. Now, stop trying to seduce me, Finn McManus. Otherwise, this breakfast I’ve been slaving over is going to get cold.”
“You’re spoiling me,” he chided teasingly. “I was going to take you out to brunch this morning. After telling you good morning, that is. But I wouldn’t want to waste this feast you’ve worked so hard to prepare, so I’ll settle for a little good morning kiss for now.”
She made a sound of surprise as he claimed her mouth in a long, lazy kiss. Her hands drifted up to grip his biceps before she rose on tiptoe until her arms could clasp around his neck. Delilah kissed him back eagerly, and he was sorely tempted to say the hell with breakfast, that he was way hungrier for her than he was for bacon and eggs.
But he couldn’t recall the last time a woman had done something nice for him like this. More often than not his bedmates expected him to take them out or take care of them, and not the other way around. And when he added in the fact that this particular woman already mattered to him more than any other he could recall, it was for damned certain he wasn’t going to risk seeming ungrateful. Or pissing her off.
“Sure you don’t want to delay breakfast just a little?” he coaxed, his tongue tracing a seductive little pattern around her ear.
Delilah shivered in reaction, but instead of succumbing to his wiles, she grabbed a spatula from the kitchen counter and gave him a quick flick on the butt with it.
“Ow.” Finn winced and rubbed his abused posterior, scowling a little as she giggled in response. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you’re into kinky shit like whips and chains. Except that you’re the one with the whip or paddle in her hand, not me.”
She shook her head as she tossed the spatula into the sink. “Definitely not my thing. No matter which one of us is wielding the whip. I’m also not into being tied up or gagged, and I am definitely, one hundred percent opposed to spanking. So if you’re getting any ideas along those lines, Mr. McManus, you can forget them right now.”
He cupped her cheek in his hand, smiling at her suggestively. “Like I would ever want to mark an inch of this beautiful body of yours. Though apparently you had no such qualms about doing the same thing to me. You might not like using floggers or paddles, but I’ve got a few bite marks and scratches this morning that appeared mysteriously overnight.”
“Oops.” Her dark eyes twinkled with mischief. “But those were just love bites. And I guess maybe I did get a little carried away at times, and dug my claws into you. Do you need me to put a band aid someplace? What about some lotion?”
Finn gave her a mock glare before wrapping his arms around her waist and bodily lifting her off the floor, causing her to squeal in alarm. “You know my feelings about lotion,” he growled. “I’m not your OCD dermatologist, as you’re well aware. As far as tending to my wounds, rest assured that I’m going to expect you to kiss them all better once we’re through with breakfast.”
“With pleasure,” she whispered in his ear, then smiled wickedly when she bit the lobe, causing him to yelp. “And as far as the lotion is concerned, I’ll bet you’d learn to like it so long as it was used on certain body parts.”
He rubbed his ear, mildly surprised when he didn’t see any blood on his fingers. “Babe, if you’re willing to rub certain body parts, you can use any kind of lotion you want, whether it smells like roses, violets, or bacon grease.”
Delilah wrinkled her nose as he set her back on her feet. “Seriously, Finn? And FYI I’d be sure to use unscented lotion for that sort of thing. I don’t think I’d want any man sharing my bed to smell like a girl. Or a slab of bacon. Speaking of which, have a seat and I’ll bring you some food.”
He glanced at the granite topped kitchen island where she had already set out plates, glasses, and silverware. “What’s the weather like outside this morning?” he inquired, already walking into the living room to see for himself. “If it’s warm enough we could eat outside, enjoy the view.”
She nodde
d. “Fine with me. Except that one of us is not wearing near enough clothing for that. Tell you what. You go get dressed and I’ll dish out the food, then bring the plates and things outside to the terrace.”
He hurried back to her bedroom, giving the rumpled, hedonistic bed a fond look - and a silent promise to pay a return visit as soon as possible - then hastily pulled on his discarded jeans and sweater. Delilah was just pouring orange juice into crystal flutes when he returned.
“Mimosas okay with you?” she inquired, setting the glass pitcher aside.
“You bet.” He bent down and gave her a warm kiss. “You really are intent on spoiling me, aren’t you?”
Delilah smiled at him sweetly. “For now. But I will expect something in return.”
“An orgasm or two, maybe?” he offered hopefully. “Or if you want to be on top again, babe, that’s fine with me anytime.”
“Well, that, too, of course. But what I really meant was that since I did all the cooking, I’ll expect you to wash the dishes.”
She winked at him mischievously as she carried her plate of food and champagne flute outside to her tropically decorated terrace. Silverware, napkins, and mugs had already been laid out on the glass topped table, along with a silver coffee carafe and a variety of condiments - cream and sugar for the coffee, salt and pepper, maple syrup and butter.
For Finn, who usually ate a bowl of cereal for breakfast - some of the time without milk if he’d forgotten to buy any - the meal that Delilah had prepared was a veritable feast. It was also delicious - from the creamy scrambled eggs to which she had added sour cream and then cooked in butter, to the perfectly crisped bacon, and the pièce de résistance that was the caramelized French toast made with rich brioche bread. He ate hungrily, taking second helpings of everything, including the mimosas she’d made with fresh organic orange juice and Prosecco.
“So in addition to being drop dead gorgeous and a talented fashion designer and a business owner, you’re also an artist, play the piano, dabble in interior design, and can cook like this,” raved Finn as he finally pushed his plate away. “Add in the fact that you’re a vixen between the sheets, and I’m in shock that you haven’t received at least a dozen marriage proposals.”
Delilah smiled coyly. “Who says I haven’t? Though it hasn’t been anywhere near that many. But I never even considered saying yes to any of the men who asked, or even the ones who wanted me to move in with them. I’m not even thirty years old, after all, and nowhere near ready to settle down. Besides, I’m not really sure I’m cut out for married life. I’m too independent, and right now at least my business takes priority over most anything else. And then, of course, after seeing the disaster my parents’ marriage turned out to be - well, it sort of left me with a sour taste in my mouth about the whole happily ever after charade.”
He cradled his coffee mug between his palms, leaning back against the cushioned rattan armchair. “I didn’t realize your parents were divorced at the time your mother died.”
She shook her head. “They weren’t. At least, it hadn’t been finalized. But my father had moved out a couple of months before her death, and moved in with his much younger girlfriend - his much younger, pregnant girlfriend. He’d cheated on my mother for years, too many times to even count, but she was foolish enough to turn a blind eye to his antics and pretended that everything was perfect. I don’t think she ever truly believed that he’d actually leave her for one of his mistresses, that he would leave my sister and me.” She paused, a sad, faraway look coming over her face. “It was the day she was served with the divorce papers when she took her own life. The day she finally had to accept the truth, and realize that he was never coming back. And because she was too weak to even contemplate life without him, she decided that life wasn’t worth living anymore.”
“Jesus.”
He swiftly set his mug down and scooped her into his lap, despite her protests. She wiggled around for several seconds, clearly not wanting or needing to be comforted by him, but Finn stubbornly kept his arms wrapped around her. Eventually Delilah gave up and heaved a tired sigh, letting her head fall against his shoulder.
“You don’t have to coddle me, Finn,” she mumbled crossly. “I’m not a child, for God’s sake, and I got over the trauma a long time ago. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it, not sure why I did. My sister and I very rarely discuss that part of our lives with anyone, even each other.”
“What happened after your mother died?” he asked gently. “Did your father do the right thing and move back home to look after you?”
Delilah snorted in derision. “You’ve got to be kidding. That would have required him to think of someone besides himself, and my father was – is - many things, but unselfish is not one of them. No, he wasn’t about to give up the new life he’d mapped out for himself to take care of his grieving daughters. He provided for us financially, of course, made sure we were okay that way. But since Desiree - my sister - was supposed to attend Columbia that fall, our father’s solution was to ship me off to some fancy boarding school on the East Coast where I’d be near her.”
“Asshole,” muttered Finn under his breath, though judging by Delilah’s smile she evidently overheard him. “Didn’t you have other family members you could have lived with?”
“Not really. Our father’s family was scattered all over the country, and he’d never been close to any of them or bothered to maintain any sort of relationship over the years. Our grandmother on our mother’s side had died a few years earlier, while our aunt lived in Laguna Beach. She’s our mother’s younger sister, an artist, and had lived alone for pretty much her entire adult life. Aunt Meredith did offer to let me live with her, but Desi and I knew that wouldn’t be a good situation for either of us. My aunt tends to get really wrapped up in her work when she’s in the middle of a new project, and basically shuts the rest of the world out during those times. I’m pretty sure she would have regretted inviting a teenager into her house sooner than later.”
He frowned. “So you got shipped off to some stuffy boarding school right after losing your mother? And having your father move out to shack up with his bimbo?”
She shook her head. “My sister wasn’t having any of that. Without consulting me, she gave up her spot at Columbia and enrolled at St. Mary’s, which was only a few minutes from where we grew up in Orinda. She also demanded that my father not only continue to support us and pay all of our college expenses, but that he buy us a smaller house to live in until I finished high school. I don’t know if it was guilt or just being intimidated by Desi, but he did everything she asked for.”
“Why did he have to buy a different house? Wouldn’t it have been easier for you and your sister to just stay in the place you grew up in?”
Delilah shuddered. “Not under the circumstances, no. The place was way too big for just the two of us, and it also held a lot of bad memories. And it was where I found my mother’s body after she’d swallowed a whole bottle of pills.”
“Fuck.” His arms tightened around her, his hand stroking her long hair comfortingly. “You didn’t tell me that part earlier. No wonder you didn’t want to live there any longer. Or why you don’t believe in happily ever after’s or marriage. After hearing what your father’s behavior did to your mother, and to you and your sister - well, let’s just say I get it. And I’m so sorry, Delilah. You were how old when it happened?”
“Fifteen. Though it felt at the time that I aged ten years overnight.”
“You were just a kid,” he soothed. “And your sister wasn’t technically an adult yet, either. How the hell did the two of you cope?”
She shrugged. “We managed. Our mother had always been a little fragile, a little high-strung, so Desi and I had learned to rely on each other when she had one of her so-called weak spells. We were always close, even though there’s three years between us, and we became even closer during that time. She gave up a lot for me, you know. I mean, St. Mary’s is a great sch
ool, and she swears she has no regrets about going there, but very, very few places can compare to a school like Columbia. At least she got to attend graduate school there, but I’ve never stopped feeling guilty about the choice she made.”
“Hey, I get that. But it was still her choice in the end, wasn’t it?” pointed out Finn. “I’m going to assume you never asked her to make that decision, or tried to guilt trip her into staying local, right?”
“Of course not. I was furious when she told me what she’d done, and tried to talk her out of it. But my sister can be incredibly stubborn and bullheaded, and there was no way she was going to budge. I owe her so much, more than I can ever repay. Though I did manage to piss her off pretty badly a few days ago, so right now she isn’t exactly happy with me.”
He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can’t imagine anyone being upset with you,” he teased. “At least not for very long. What exactly did you do to make her so mad?”
Delilah rubbed her knuckles over the dark blond stubble that covered his chin. “Told her that I was going out with you last night,” she admitted with a soft laugh. “I had already mentioned to her that you were my neighbor, and that you were being awfully persistent in trying to snag a date. And since my sister envisions herself as a mother figure to me, she kept warning me off a player like you. I lost count of how many links she sent me with tabloid stories about you. At least until I told her to cut it out, and that I wasn’t going to read any more of those trashy articles. And,” she added guiltily, “I might have also told her to butt out and let me worry about myself for once. I’m pretty sure that was the part that really pissed her off. Desiree’s sort of made it her life’s mission to look out for her little sister, to the point where she’s neglected her own social life and turned down some really amazing business opportunities. And while I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, she really does need to let me grow up, as well as start living her own life.”
The Player Gets Coached Page 17