Chapter 18

Delilah

“I’m fine, Daddy. Just can’t sleep. Too much excitement today,” I lie not even bothering to look up from my phone. He or Pop checks on us every night before they turn in. They have for as long as I can remember.

The door clicks closed. No ‘night, sweetheart’ or ‘see ya in the morning.’

I look up to see the dark figure still standing in my room.

“Daddy?” The husky voice sounds pleased. “We can play it like that if you want, Princess, but that’s not really my thing.”

I sigh, closing out of the casino slots game I’m playing on my cell phone. The last thing Lawson needs as ammunition against me is knowing I can’t stop playing those stupid apps.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.” His response is quick.

“Find out just how intellectual Rachel isn’t?” I pull my eyes from him and stare off into a dark corner of my room. “I don’t have the time or patience to deal with you right now.”

He chuckles. “I never would’ve even confused her with someone with brains.” He takes a step in my direction, ignoring the second part of my statement.

“Go to bed Lawson. I’ve had enough of your shit tonight.” I grab my headphones from my bedside table. “I’m sure you’ll find another way to hurt me tomorrow.”

“I didn’t know you cared.” I can hear the playfulness in his voice, and it does nothing but make me angrier.

“I don’t,” I argue. “It pissed me off that you pulled that shit with the one girl that Samson will never get over.”

He laughs and takes another step forward. He’s hesitant and calculating, and I wonder if he’s afraid I’m going to attack him. He’s got another thing coming if he thinks I’ll waste that type of energy on his sorry ass.

“Samson is on the phone with Kennedy Farmer, probably jacking off to her voice while they talk about Pokémon Go or something.”

I tilt my head, confused. “The pink-haired girl with the umm...”

“Big tits?” He takes another step closer so his face is now bathed in the light of the moon coming through the window. “Yeah, her.”

“He just handed Rachel over to you?”

“Not exactly.” He runs his hand over his head. “I need to talk to you about what you saw. I have to explain myself.”

“No need,” I tell him. “Your silence downstairs said a thousand words.”

“What did you want me to say?” He sits on the side of my bed, on top of the blankets so I can hardly move my legs. “Was I supposed to tell your twin brother that I went into that kitchen and wrapped my arms around the girl I’ve been obsessing over for weeks?”

I huff. “You met her like two days ago.”

“You sure are dense for a smart girl.”

I could pop him in the eye right now.

“Short skirt, gorgeous blonde hair, legs that go on for days.”

“Seriously, Lawson? Do you just enjoy torturing me?”

“I have a mind to tie you to this bed and gag you. Force you to shut the fuck up until I’m finished speaking.”

“I don’t want to hear a fucking word you have to say.” My voice quivers and I hate that he has enough power over me to make me cry. “You could’ve stayed in your room tonight, but instead you want to rub it in my face? That’s cruel, but probably a great decision on your part. I’m sure she’s great at giving head. She’s sucked off practically every popular guy at school.”

His hand covers my mouth. When I try to turn my head to get away from him, his other hand fists the hair on my nape, tilting my head back and forcing me to look in his eyes. They practically sparkle in the dim light, and I feel hypnotized by them.

“Be quiet.” Fear and something very similar to heat settles low in my stomach. He notices my reaction and smiles like the devil that he is. “Naughty girl. You like it rough?”

I draw in a hissing breath through my nose.

“I. Thought. She. Was. You.”

I try to shake my head, rejecting his words, but my movement is impeded by his grip in my hair.

“If I pull my hand away will you scream?”

“No,” I mumble against his palm.

“Promise?”

I nod as best as I can.

I lick my lips the second he pulls his hand away, the tip of my tongue running over his finger. Accidental? Deliberate? At this moment I can’t tell.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “The things you do to me.”

“I’m not her,” I finally manage to say. “I will never be like her, throwing myself at your feet, flirting with you until you cave.”

“There’s nothing about her that appeals to me, Princess.” He presses his index finger against my lips, but I turn my head forcing him to pull it away. “Everything about you makes my blood boil, makes me want things I’ve never wanted before.”

“Like my lips around your…” I swallow. “Cock?”

“Damn, Delilah. I love your filthy mouth.” I expect a grin to hit his mouth, but it stays in a flat line. “I’d sell my already dark soul to the devil for that, and all in good time, but you’re more to me than a blowjob.”

I let the sound of my heavy breathing fill the room, grateful that my covers are pulled up so he can’t see the quick puckering of my nipples.

“And you’d never have to throw yourself at my feet. Although I get the feeling I may end up doing just that to you.”

I search his eyes for deception, finding nothing but wide-open honesty.

“Why now?” My voice is thick with arousal and temptation.

He shakes his head as if he doesn’t have an answer, but he finally speaks. “I’m tired of fighting it. Tired of jacking off to thoughts of you, dreaming of you every night knowing you’re in here all alone.”

“That’s… descriptive.” His hand finds mine, and I suddenly feel too warm, too open and exposed. “I’m not just going to jump into sex with you. I’m not the type. Rachel maybe—”

His fingers brush against my lips again. They part on a harsh breath at the contact.

“Let’s agree to never mention her name again.” I agree with a quick jerk of my head. “Tell me you want this too.”

“I don’t know what you want,” I confess.

“I want to spend time together, talk, and get to know each other.”

“You don’t talk. You grunt and give one-word answers. You’re a vault, Law.”

He smiles brightly. “I love when you call me that.” His finger sweeps over my lips again. Talk about obsessive behavior. “I’ll open up.”

I frown.

“I’ll make an effort to open up to you. I want to.”

“What made you change your mind?”

He sighs. “Honestly?”

“No, Lawson,” I snip. “Lie to me some more.”

“There was this sense of calm that washed over me when I wrapped my arms around Rachel earlier.” I jerk my hand from his. He grabs it back immediately. “Don’t. I thought she was you. Every spark, every raised hair on my body was yours. It all belonged to you.”

“I was jealous of her,” I admit.

“And I love that about you.” His hand cups my cheek. “Can I replace the warmth of her body with yours?”

I laugh. “Do you know how fucked up that sounds?”

He gives me a sad smile. “I do, but it doesn’t make me want to do it any less.”

“Over the covers?”

“I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me.”

I stretch out, sliding down to rest my head on my pillow rather than my back against the headboard.

“When did you turn into this softy?”

He chuckles as his body lines up behind mine. “I can try to cop a feel if that makes things more suitable for you.”

I laugh but pull the blankets down to my waist. The heat of his bare chest against my thin tank top is absolute bliss. His arm wraps around my stomach, but rather than reaching high or low he settles it palm down on the sheet. Needing just a little more, I intertwine my fingers in his.

“You’re so warm,” I whisper.

He grumbles incoherently just as my mouth stretches in a yawn.

“Okay, Romeo. You have to go. If we fall asleep, Dad and Pop will kill us both.”

“Worth it,” he mumbles against my neck.

“Go,” I tell him and hitch my shoulder to jolt him.

I roll to my back as he climbs off of the bed.

“Goodnight,” he whispers as his lips brush my forehead.

“Nope,” I tell him with a hand tugging at the back of his neck.

I press my lips to his, giving his tongue the access it demands when it presses forward.

His strong hands cup my face as he controls the kiss I instigated. Fire shoots all over my body, this kiss nothing remotely similar to Brandon’s lips last year at the homecoming game.

Lawson worships me with his tongue, taking the time and care to explore my mouth and allowing me to do the same. When he pulls away, I’m hungry for more. My neck flexes up, lips seeking his. He pecks them like an elderly relative and pulls away.

“Sleep, Princess. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I’m still smiling, still have fingers pressed to my lips as I drift off to sleep. This year may be the best birthday I’ll ever have.