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“You will. Lot of ’em in your future, darlin’.” I brush a kiss to the top of her head. Her sweet innocence makes my heart clench. I’m holding my entire world in my arms. Nothing can stop this feeling.

“Good. Because, despite everything, I really loved this summer.” Her voice fills with longing. “I can’t believe it’s ending.”

I already know how this summer will end. With Delilah as my wife.

When the music switches over to an old George Jones song, Delilah lifts her head. “What kind of old man song is this?”

I chuckle. “Keep teasing me darlin’—we know how it’ll end.”

“Fun and games and your cock inside of me?” She flashes a coy smile, the one that can get me to do anything.

“Now that you mention it…” I grip her hand and press her back toward the wall.

“Cole.” She bites down on her lush lower lip. My girl’s as eager as I am.

I should have patience, should take her to the bedroom and undress her the right way, but I never said I was a patient man.

Fuck. I’m so weak for this girl I can’t stay away. So weak I’m already on my knees.

I shove at her dress, slipping my hands behind to grip her ass and holding myself there as I grip her garter with my teeth. I drag it down her toned leg, then kiss every inch of her skin. Her inner thigh. Her knee. The birthmark on the curve of her ass.

Then I wrench her panties down her thighs. My mouth meets her pussy. My nostrils flare at her scent.

I stare, mesmerized at the way her inner thighs are already damp with desire. I feel like a fucking king.

A groan escapes my throat. “Fucking gorgeous,” I murmur, leaning in to lap up every last drop. Obsessed with her taste. “That’s my girl. Drip for me.”

“Fuck.” She closes her eyes, her fingers running desperately through my hair. “Cole.”

“It’s never going to be enough,” I rasp, fucking her with my mouth, feeling her clamp around me, feeling those breathless gasps shake her slender body.

When she’s close to coming, I stand. Holding her up against the wall, I grip her hair and force her dreamy gaze to mine as I sink into her with a rough thrust. “Need those eyes on me, Delilah,” I demand harshly, eyes locked. Terrified that she’ll realize I’m not the man she wants. Terrified I don’t have every part of her. This fierce, beautiful girl of mine. My serenity and my chaos, my life and my death.

It’s like worshipping a goddamn miracle. I’m undeserving, unworthy, but I’m willing to work the rest of my life to earn her love.

Her head tips back, her honey-blond hair a wild swirl around us, as her delicate fingers stroke their way up my back.

I bury my face in her neck, grunting out the words. “I love you, Delilah. I’ll give you everything if you’ll let me.”

“Oh fuck…yes, Cole…” Her soft voice launches to a begging cry as I thrust deeper.

Pulling back, I watch her face as she comes, refusing to lose any sight of her. Refusing to let her go.

I will never let her go.

42 Delilah

I stand in Cole’s kitchen, a box of hair dye in my hand.

Or is it my kitchen?

The thought makes me smile, and I hum to myself as I open the box and unwrap a small brush and an applicator bottle. I mix the color, shaking and shaking it until the bottle’s contents turn a pretty shade of lavender.

Cole appears, shirtless, that wide chest carved in muscle and tattoos. “You should do that in the bathroom.”

I look up at him. “But I want to do it where you are.”

He looks down at me, amused, devoted, then kisses my brow.