He visibly reined himself in, calm settling back over him as if he were locking something dangerous away. Then he smirked.
“Only one of the three is true.” “Okay,” I said softly. “So which part?”
“Well, I’m in a tech program at the community college, so no frat,” he replied.
He hesitated, then added, almost sheepish, “And as embarrassing as it is, the last time I had sex was three months ago with my ex.”
He shrugged slightly. “So, sadly, I don’t really meet the fuck boy criteria either.”
He leaned closer to my ear, and I shuddered at the brush of his warm breath against my skin.
“But the way you’re dancing with me,” he murmured, his voice low and unsteady, “the way your curves feel in my hands… you’re driving me absolutely wild. You are just so… fucking … beautiful, Delilah.”
My pulse thudded hard in my chest.
“So you’re horny then?” I teased. It was more of a statement than a question.
Again, he leaned close, his lips nearly grazing my ear. “From the moment I saw you,” he said quietly, “all I could think about was what this dress would look like on my floor.”
I was going to have an actual fucking heart attack. My pulse pounded through my body. He spun me around and pushed his hips against my backside. I could feel his arousal pushing back at me, and good Lord he felt big. I could tell just from the pressure of it on my body.
Is he going to want me to suck that thing? Could I even suck anything that big properly? Do I even remember how? Oh my God it has been over two years, what if I’m out of practice?
I sensually started to move my hips in a circular motion on him. His hand trailed over my breast on top of my dress, it swept over my hardened nipple, and I thought I might climax right there on the dance floor. It had been so long since I had been touched. Every fiber of my being ached for him.
We danced through several songs like that, teasing and grinding on each other, the air between us thick with promise. Every fiber of my being ached for him.
Before I knew it, the lights came on and the reception was over. I had completely lost track of time. He let go of me, and my body instantly mourned the loss of his touch. Then he offered to drive me home.
“Drive? Didn’t you drink?” I asked.
“I don’t drink. Just a personal choice,” he replied casually.
We said our goodbyes to our friends. I gave Hannah a big hug, and she flashed me with that mischievous smile. In a sing song voice, she said, “You’re welcome,” followed by a wink.
The drive home was short, filled with small talk that felt oddly disconnected, like we had not just been wrapped up in each other moments before. The shift was jarring.
When we arrived at my shabby apartment complex, he insisted on walking me to my door. I was thrilled, hoping it meant he wanted to come inside, that we might continue what we had started on the dance floor. But I was not sure. Out there, I had coaxed something raw and primal out of him, though I suspected I had only scratched the surface. In the car, he was a perfect gentleman again. Calm. Poised. Completely unfazed by what had happened.
My entire world felt turned upside down, yet he seemed untouched by it. I could not tell what he wanted.
Jared maintained that calm composure as he offered his elbow, helping steady me as I climbed the stairs in my heels. I must have been more unsteady than I realized because the next thing I knew; I was lifted into his arms. He carried me princess style all the way up to the third floor.
He set me up right in front of my door, then slipped his hands into his pockets. I took a steadying breath, trying to calm the nerves buzzing through me. I gathered what courage I had left, ignored my mild panic attack, and asked,
“Did you… want to come in?” My voice was shaky, flirtation barely holding together.
He held my gaze for a second or two longer than necessary, as if wrestling with something inside himself. Then he leaned in, bracing his forearm against the door above my head, caging me gently between the door and his solid frame.
There it was again. That darkness in his eyes, sharp and hungry, like something barely restrained. His demeanor shifted from charming and controlled to dangerously alluring the moment the question left my mouth. He paused, breath heavy, before finally speaking.
“As much as I want to come in and worship that body of yours all night long and take total advantage of you… I’m not going to do that, you’re drunk, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Just like that, the darkness faded, replaced by the calm steadiness I had seen before.
He lifted one hand and traced his finger slowly along my jaw, tilting my chin up. His lips brushed mine in a soft, lingering kiss, simple but devastating. When he pulled back, he looked into my eyes and said, “Good night, Delilah.”
Then he turned and walked away.
