And then I’d fallen for her.
Hard.
My squad told me it was because we didn’t get enough pussy overseas and that I’d get over her Dear John-ing me when I got back. I knew it wasn’t true, though. Getting over Delilah was something that took years. Hell, I’d been tortured, beaten, waterboarded. Still, nothing compared to her silence when I sent an email and she didn’t respond.
And even after all that, I remembered how she smelled, how she felt, how she tasted. She’d infected me with a lifetime disease of my body responding to her, and when she walked out of that penitentiary building, the same thing happened.
“What the—” Those wide hazel eyes of hers grew when she saw me. The sun kissed her golden skin, and the dark waves of her hair blew around her face. “Where are my parents?”
Delilah Hardy, the girl who’d haunted every corner of my nightmares and dreams since the moment I’d met her years ago, was now a very hot, very fuckable, and very frustrated woman standing right in front of me.
I hated that I’d taken her virginity and hated even more that we’d swept the whole event under the rug like we could hide it forever, especially when my dick wanted to do nothing of the sort. I’d seen her only a handful of times after that week, and every time she’d practically run in the other direction. If I cornered her, she looked at me with embarrassment or sometimes even hurt. Like I’d defiled her that night.
I’d fucked that girl like it was the one job I had in the world to do right. I knew I hadn’t hurt her. I’d worshipped her.
And we’d exchanged emails. We’d been fine. For a minute, I’d wanted to make Delilah Hardy my damn wife.
And then, over the years, I’d dreamt about doing it again, only to have a follow-up nightmare of her looking at me the way she was right this second.
With visceral pain. Her chin even trembled like she might cry at the sight of me.
I rubbed my buzz-cut head. “Your mom called mine, Lilah.” It was an easy enough story that she’d believe.
She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked toward the sky and blinked rapidly. How had we gotten here? How had I lost even the cordial friendship we’d shared over the years in just one week?
“Okay,” she breathed out.
“Sorry, Lilah. I’m just here to pick you up,” I mumbled. I didn’t know why I was apologizing. I’d spent years in the military making people apologize to me. I didn’t say sorry. It wasn’t in my vocabulary until right that second.
Time had left her short, but her curves had filled out in all the right places. I wanted to explore each curve and see if she liked me sliding around them fast or slow. They’d given her clothing back when she was released, and I saw that she’d abandoned the sweaters she used to wear for something much more revealing: a white tank that barely covered her ample cleavage.
I’d tried to forget all this about her: the way my heart beat out of my chest, the way my dick twitched immediately, and even when she blinked away the pain in her eyes and met me with a sudden glare. She had fire there now, like she was ready for me all of a sudden.
“You came all this way because our parents told you to? Are you out of your mind? And my mother even asking you to do this …” She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes hard before she sighed. “That’s really ridiculous. You shouldn’t have come.”
She stomped past me toward the car and then stopped halfway there to turn and shut her eyes before she said, “Thank you. I’m really on edge right now. I’ve lost a lot of sleep, and I need to sit down or something while we wait for Izzy to get out.”
I nodded slowly and took a wide path around her, eating up the cement to get to my car rental. I opened the sleek black door for her and waved her in. “Just sit and relax, Delilah. Everything is going to be okay now.”
Running a hand through her chocolate-colored hair, she listened.
By the time I got to the driver’s side, though, she’d already started to fall apart. “My sister is coming out of there, right? I mean”—her leg jumped up and down— “it’s taking them a bit long to release her. They didn’t call her name with mine. Why do you think that is?”
I cleared my throat, ready for shit to hit the fan when I told her.
She continued without letting me say a word. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m asking you that. I always envision you running around like James Bond doing whatever you want and knowing everything. My family paints that picture, you know? Like maybe you know everything that’s going on right now when obviously you don’t.” She took a big breath that didn’t really do much to calm her. “And I’m rambling when I shouldn’t be.”