Delilah tilts her head to the side as she studies me, her blue eyes searching my face. “I thought I wanted the life Brad and I dreamed up. But once it was over, all that was left was this sense of relief.” She takes a drink of her lemonade. “Not at first. You saw how devastated I was. But after you helped me put myself back together, I was grateful I didn’t end up married to him. The life we planned was all about him. It put me second in every way. I never wanted to take three weeks off to travel after the wedding. He pushed my concerns aside. Our marriage would have slowly sucked that life out of me.”
Everything she said makes my blood pump hot through my veins because I remember watching him chip away at all the pieces of Delilah that make her special. “He didn’t value your dreams because he didn’t see the same things I do when I look at you.”
“What do you mean?” Delilah asks, pausing another strawberry just inches from her mouth.
“Brad saw you as an extension of him, and not in a sweet way. Like you were a tool that could help him get where he wanted to be—craft the life that would make him look good. Maybe he loved you in his own way, but it wasn’t the love you deserve. He looked at you and saw how you helped him do better, achieve more.”
“It didn’t feel like that at the time but I can see that now.” Her eyes narrow as she watches me, skeptical about where I’m going with this.
“When I look at you, I see all your dreams, and my first thought isn’t the convenience of those dreams, it’s how I can help you achieve them. How hard you work to reach your goals is a turn on for me.” I toss a blueberry into my mouth. “You’re built for so much more than to be someone’s arm candy. If you tell me right now that you can’t take time off over the break, we will have a staycation instead. You make me a better person, always have, and all I want is to do the same for you.”
Her mouth hangs open with the strawberry just dangling between her fingers. Reaching out, I pluck the juicy fruit from her hand and pop it into my mouth with a smile. Delilah stretches her legs out in front of her. My hand falls to her knee, just holding it. “Stunned silent?”
“Absorbing. There’s so much that hasn’t changed between us, but then you say things like that, and it’s like I have to get to know this whole other side of you. You’re still my best friend, but now you say things like that and”—Her body vibrates with a shiver and her eyes hood—“make me not want to take it slow in this tent.”
“Don’t stop on my account. I love hearing what I do to you.”
“You have always been sweet, but hearing you talk about our future. It does things to me.”
“I’m going to need a little more than that, Delilah. What kinds of things?”
“All good things. Like right now, I really want to spend the rest of our time kissing and take these sandwiches to go.”
“I like the way you think, Hermosa,” I tell her, shifting so I’m hovering over her. I desperately wish we were someplace more private than this tent and had more time together. And now that she has told me several times that she isn’t interested in taking things slow, my whole-body aches to make her mine.
I brush my lips across hers, tasting the strawberries and lemonade. Delilah drops back against the pillows lining the tent floor, tugging on my neck and forcing me to follow her. Not that I have any desire to resist.
Soft light filters through the tent’s canvas walls, making her look almost ethereal, with her blonde hair and bright blue eyes standing out against the colorful pillows. I could stare at her like this for hours, but she’s not having it.
Her small hand sweeps up into my hair, gripping the strands and anchoring me so our noses are brushing. Those blue eyes disappear behind her lids as she arches up and licks at the seam of my lips. There’s always been a balance of give and take in our relationship but I’ve taken the lead when it comes to the physical side and pushing the boundaries of our friendship. Her seizing control right now is the hottest thing.
My hand drops to her waist, burrowing under her shirt, searching out the feel of her skin against mine. Everything about Delilah is a contrast to me. She’s soft where I’m hard. Her skin is creamy and smooth. Mine is a rich bronze color with calloused hands from years of baseball. She’s petite and shadowed by my larger body, yet we fit together perfectly like this.
When the pad of my thumb brushes against the underside of a lacey bra, I swallow up her drawn-out moan. The sound alone is almost enough to make me lose control completely.
My dick takes notice and perks right the fuck up. Making sure I know he’s ready and willing. “Fuck Delilah, that was the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. I can’t wait to hear the way you scream my name the first time you let me inside you.”
“God . . . yes, please. Let’s do that.” Delilah pants against my lips as her legs fall open.
The temptation to slide my leg between hers and let her use me to get off before going back to work is strong, but then an idea strikes.
“After my game tonight. Come over.”
“Done. I’ll be there.”
“Oh, my eager girl. I wasn’t done, but I love the initiative.” I chuckle, brushing my thumb over the swell of her breast again just for the reaction, and she doesn’t disappoint. Delilah sucks in a jagged breath and shudders under me. “You’re going to go back to work and try to make it through the day, even though all you’re going to think about is how badly you want me.” I grind my hard cock against the outside of her leg. My greedy girl likes that. She squeezes her eyes shut and nods. Her fingers tug on the hair at the base of my skull, trying to pull me back down to her, but I stay right where I am.
Not so fast.
“Then you’re going to go home and get ready for the game. You’ll be tempted to get yourself off. Carrying around this tension all day is going to make you ache for relief.” Delilah’s eyes snap open, and her breathing picks up. She’s searching my eyes, looking for something, maybe trying to gauge if I’m serious or how far I’ll take this. “But you’re not going to touch yourself. Not with your fingers or your toys.”
Delilah freezes in my arms. Yeah, she has toys. I may not have seen them, but she’s been single for a long time, and is far too sensual not to have something to help her take the edge off. I bet she has several, but there’s that one that hits her just right. One she uses when she’s desperate and throbbing, like she will be tonight. I just smirk at her wide, blue-eyed expression of disbelief.
I run my nose along her jaw, breathing in the way she smells like coffee and caramel. “You’ll come watch me play and then go home with me, where I’ll take care of your pussy, the way no one else can. How does that sound?”
Delilah swallows before she looks up at me through her dark lashes. “And what happens if I don’t?”
I pull back, a little stunned but not at all disappointed. The fact that she pushes back is an even bigger turn on than if she had bitten her lip and wordlessly nodded her understanding.
