Filfthy(49)
“Days ago I might not have been this receptive,” she says.
Her lips are bitten and stung and slicked in some kind of cherry-pink lip balm that I’m sure tastes like raspberries or pomegranate. I can’t stand here and look at them and not want to crush them with mine. I’ve missed her taste on my tongue. I’ve missed her soft hair knotted in my hands and her smooth skin under my palms and her soaked pussy clenched and pulsing on my cock.
Hooking my hands under her ass, I lift her up and walk her to my room.
“Just like that?” she says.
“Were you expecting something more formal? Tea and crumpets before we begin?”
“No.” She smiles, her arms wrapped around my neck.
“I mean, you came here to get fucked, right?”
She hesitates before giving a slow nod.
“I fucking love it.” My mouth crashes into hers as I carry her down the hall. “Such a dirty girl.”
Her mouth smiles against mine and for the next hour, the rest of the world disappears. For the next hour, I lose myself in the girl next door. For the next hour, I forget everything.
And I remember how good it feels to be close to someone again. Even if it’s purely physical.
Delilah wakes with a start, sitting up in bed and feeling the space around her. My room is pitch dark now, and the glowing clock on the nightstand reads a quarter past eleven.
“Go back to sleep.” I drag her toward me. “You wore me out, woman.”
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I should get back.” She pulls against me, dipping one leg off the edge of the bed.
“Stop,” I say. “You’re already here. Naked. In my bed. You may as well stay the night.”
In the dark, I see the outline of her body as it angles toward me, and I feel the weight of her stare.
“And count yourself lucky because I don’t do sleepovers,” I add. “So get your hot little ass back in my bed before I change my mind.”
She pauses, exhaling, and slowly climbs back under the covers. “You don’t think this is weird?”
“It’s only weird if you say it’s weird. You want to call this weird?”
“No.”
“Okay. Hand me the remote.”
She grabs the remote from her side of the bed and hands it off, and I flick the TV on. It’s already tuned to ESPN, and we’re just in time to catch today’s highlights reel.
Delilah fluffs the pillow behind her, yawning and keeping a safe distance from me.
“I can’t believe we fell asleep,” she says.
“I can.” I smirk.
She rubs her eyes and nonchalantly fixes her messy bed head. She’s too fucking adorable. Sitting up, she adjusts her pillows and leans back against the headboard.
“I’m wide awake now,” she says. “I may as well head back.”
“Delilah,” I groan. “For the love of God.”
Her response comes in the gurgling growl of her stomach.
Delilah’s hand flies to her lower belly. “Sorry. I was so busy getting the house ready earlier, I forgot to eat dinner tonight.”
“You’re hungry?” I sit up, resting on my elbow. “Come on.”
Peeling off the covers, I climb out of bed and motion for her to follow.
“Where are we going? I’m naked, you know.” There’s a slight giddiness to her tone.
“Well aware of the fact that you’re naked,” I reply, taking her hand and pulling her down the hall toward the kitchen. I pull a bar stool out for her and head to the pantry, returning with a box of pancake mix. “Midnight pancakes are my specialty.”
Her cherry lips lift in the corners as her gaze is trained on my every move.
“What, you didn’t think I could cook?” I measure a cup of water and pour it into a bowl full of mix, whisking with quick light strokes, just like my abuela taught me years ago.
“I didn’t say anything.” She holds her hands up. “Do you want help?”
“Nope. You’re my guest. And you more than earned this pancake dinner, gorgeous.” I heat up a pan on the stove, my back toward her. “I can feel you checking out my ass.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, de la Cruz.”
“It’s okay if you like my ass. I’ve heard it looks great in football pants. But, you know, I’ve never actually looked. I wouldn’t know for sure.”
I pour a ladle full of batter into the skillet and grab a spatula as little bubbles rise to the top. A couple minutes later, I plate the pancakes. One for her. One for me. And meet her at the island with all the fixings: maple syrup, chocolate chips, whipped cream, and strawberries.
“You’re the only person I know who can make me think of sex while I eat pancakes.” Delilah licks a drip of syrup from her lower lip. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to look at pancakes the same again.”