Filfthy (11 page)

D
elilah

“
H
ey
, hey.” Daphne wears a sheepish smile as she plops down on the edge of my hotel bed in last night’s clothes.

“Good lord. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming back.”

“Weston is the sweetest.” Daphne pulls her entire body up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged. “We literally walked around all night talking. We didn’t sleep at all.”

“Mm, hm. I bet that’s all you did.”

“Not joking. He didn’t even try to kiss me. He was the perfect gentleman.” Daphne sighs, and I recognize that far-off, dreamy look in her eyes. I’ve seen it before. Many times. Her sweet, adventurous nature also translates well into her love life. The girl is a chronic love-at-first-sight-er. “You ever meet someone and you just click?”

“All the time,” I sass back.

“Well, I never have,” she says. “Sure, I meet people and I like them. Whatever. But I’ve never met someone who just got me. It’s like we never ran out of things to talk about. And we have so much in common.”

“Really?” My face wrinkles. Not that I’m not happy for her. I agree. Weston seems like a great guy. But I never would’ve pinned those two together. She’s all artsy and he’s this macho footballer who’s easily more than two times her size.

“Yeah. I think I’m in love.” She presses her hand against her chest.

“I feel like now would be a good time to warn you that Zane’s in the bathroom,” I say.

Daphne’s dreamy exterior fades in an instant and her expression sobers. “What?”

The sound of the shower running from the bathroom confirms my announcement.

“He got kicked out of his room last night. I let him sleep on the couch.” I scrunch my shoulders to my ears.

“Oh, what
ever
, you naughty minx.” Daphne grabs a pillow, throwing it at me.

“Nothing happened.” I throw it back. “And besides, can we talk about how you ditched me last night? Seriously, Daph. Not cool.”

She shrugs. “I was doing you a favor. Anyone with half a brain can see you have a thing for him. You two needed to be alone. And the bickering was getting old fast. Forgive us for wanting a little reprieve from that.”

“Oh, so now you and Weston are an ‘us’?”

She laughs. “Maybe someday.”

Have to hand it to Daphne. She falls hard and she falls fast.

Daphne swats her hand in the air. “He’s a good guy. I had a good time with him. Forgive me for wanting to feel special for a few hours, but if it’s any consolation, I did feel bad for leaving you. But it’s not like I left you with some random guy you didn’t know.”

I glance at my sister and suddenly remember how her sweet little heart is still on the mend. Pierre obliterated it. I’d never seen her so distraught a couple months back. I had half a mind to fly to Paris and deal with him myself, and I almost had our brother Derek convinced to come with me.

“Forgiven,” I say. I can never stay mad at my sister for very long. Either of them. Or my brother for that matter. “I’m glad you had a nice time with Weston.”

“Anyway.” Daphne kicks her legs over the edge of the bed. “As soon as your guest is finished with the facilities, I say we get cleaned up and try to salvage the rest of our girls’ trip. I heard there’s an amazing little Cuban café on the corner with the best brunch, and I’m dying to try a
café Cubano
.”

* * *

“
W
e’re back
,” I call into Rue’s foyer Sunday evening.

“In here,” she yells from the kitchen.

We place our bags by the door and follow the sound of her voice and the sizzle of something frying in a skillet.

“I’m making fried green tomatoes,” she says. “Sit down, girls. I want to hear all about Miami.”

She brings over a ceramic plate covered in grease-soaked paper towels and golden-fried tomatoes, placing it between us all before sitting down.

“These always make me think of you, Aunt Rue.” I grab some plates, napkins, and forks. These things will be annihilated in two point five seconds.

“Mom never makes these,” Daphne muses.

“With all that cooking Bliss does, I still can’t believe she hates tomatoes.” Rue rolls her eyes. “I love your mother, but it’s time to be an adult and eat her veggies.”

“I think she had a bad experience with tomatoes once,” Daphne says.

“Who on earth could have a bad experience with a gall-darn tomato? It’s a vegetable for crying out loud.” Rue shoves a small slice of green tomato in her mouth.

“She likes ketchup,” I say. “And tomato sauce. Just no chunks.”

I miss my mom. And my dad. And my niece, Haven. And the rest of my family. I miss Rixton Falls more than I thought I would too. Part of me wouldn’t mind going back once a month this summer just to see everyone.

Five minutes later, there’s nothing left but a greasy paper towel and a few crumbs. Daphne stands gathering dishes, and I grab forks.

“No, no, no.” Aunt Rue places her hand on mine. “Let Daphne handle clean up. I have a favor to ask of you.”

My sister and I exchange looks. “Okay, what’s that?”

“We have a Home Owner’s Association meeting Tuesday night,” she says. “It’s mandatory. Which means Zane is required to be there.”

I shrug. “Okay.”

“But he’s blown them off before,” she says. “Mandatory and required aren’t words in that boy’s vocabulary.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to do about it.”

“We’re voting on the new president,” she says. “Every vote matters. Every vote counts. He needs to be there. And I want you to make sure he goes.”

I chuckle. “I don’t think I have any more power over him than you do.”

Aunt Rue wags her finger. “You’d be surprised, Delilah. He’s sweet on you. Bringing you flowers. Knocking on your window at night.”

I lean over and smack Daphne.

“I didn’t say anything. I swear.” Daphne lifts her hands.

“Ethel French saw.” Rue’s hand lands on her hips. “She was walking Bubbles late at night and saw some strange man creeping next to my house. Almost called the authorities too. He’s lucky.”

I turn my face away so she can’t see the ridiculous grin my mouth has twisted into.

“Anyway, Delilah, just run next door and tell that boy he better be there Tuesday night.” Rue sighs. “Or else.”

“That’s it?” I ask. “Just . . . or else?” My brows meet. “I’m not good with threats.”

“Then sweet-talk him. Tell him how much it would mean to you if he went. How disappointed you’d be if he no-showed,” she says.

“He’s going to know I was coached.”

“Then tell him he needs to vote for Ethel French.” She ignores me.

“Aunt Rue.” I bury my face in my hands. “I can’t tell him who to vote for.”

“It’s down to Ethel French or Hank Mott,” she says. “And let me tell you, they’ll all be in a world of hurt if old Hank is elected. He’s a damn dictator who’s allergic to smiling. The man used to run a plastic factory, and now he thinks he’s capable of running Laguna Palms but the man has had four infractions since he moved here. Ethel is clearly the lesser of the two evils.”

Daphne glances at me from the sink, biting her lower lip and shrugging.

“All right. I’ll go. I’ll do your dirty work for you.” I wipe my hands on a napkin, suddenly noticing the insane palpitations going off in my chest.

“Don’t be gone long,” she shouts when I’m by the front door a moment later. “I’m taking you girls to poolside pajama BINGO tonight. Starts in a half hour.”

“I’ll be
right
back,” I call.

Z
ane

“
H
ey
, gorgeous.” I lean in my doorway where Delilah stands on my steps. Her lips part, but before she has a chance to speak, I reach for her arm and pull her inside. Pressing her against the wall, I cup her face, my mouth landing on hers. “Come back to finish what we started?”

It’s been a long day, especially riding back from Miami with Kai and Weston. Every time Weston would nod off in the passenger seat, Kai would sock him across the arm, and give him shit for staying out all night with Delilah’s sister. And when he was done with that, he’d brag about the girl he fucked all night. He tried giving me shit for staying in Delilah’s room, but he shut his big mouth the second I told him I wasn’t paying him for my share of the hotel room anymore.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Her hands press flat on my chest. “Let me assure you that’s
not
why I’m here.”

My head cocks, eyes squinting. “All right then.”

“Rue wanted me to make sure you’re coming Tuesday night,” she says.

“Coming . . .?” I ask. “Or
coming
? Because one of them is completely and totally dependent on you.”

“Stop.” She pretends to be annoyed. “There’s a mandatory HOA meeting.”

“Oh.” I scoff. “I never go to those.”

“I’m
well
aware,” she says. “But this one is really, really important.”

“That’s what they say every fucking time, and you know what? I used to believe them. And I used to go. And then they’d sit there for four goddamned hours talking about hedge heights and light bulb requirements and noise ordinances and native trees on the no-plant list.” I exhale, lips pursed. “It’s a giant, colossal waste of time.”

“Yeah, well this time they’re voting for the new HOA president since Rue’s leaving in a few months,” she says. “And they need your vote.”

“Can I just show up and vote and leave?”

Delilah shrugs. “I’m not sure.”

“What do I get if I go?” I lift a brow, my mouth upturned at one side.

“I’m not going to reward you for going. You’re not a dog.” Her hands are still planted on my chest, and I’m quite positive she can feel my heart hammering right now. She makes my body do strange things, and I kind of love it. “Just please go. If not for Rue, then for me.”

I pause, studying her pretty face and moving my hands to her hips.

“All right. Fine. I’ll go,” I say.

“Just like that?” She’s smiling now.

“Yeah. Shit. Whatever. I’ll vote, then I’m leaving.”

“Okay, but there’s one more thing.”

“Jesus. What?”

“Rue wants you to vote for Ethel French.”

I smirk. She’s the only broad in these parts I remotely like. She’s got sass and guts, and I respect the hell out of her.

“Done,” I say. “Ethel can have my vote.”

It’s not like it matters. I plan to move out of Laguna Falls the first chance I get. I’m going on well over two years here now, and as soon as I prove that I’ve calmed down to Coach, I’m getting the hell out of here.

Gripping her hips, I pull her body against mine, kissing her pillow-soft lips once again. “Now, tell me you didn’t come all this way just to tell me to go to some stupid meeting.”

Her mouth smiles against mine. “It’s true, de la Cruz.”

“Then lie to me,” I say. “Tell me you came here to make up for this morning.”

Our lips dance, parting enough so that our tongues graze for a moment. Her fingers lift to the back of my neck, threading through my hair.

Delilah Rosewood likes me. It may only be when I’m making her feel like a sexual goddess, when our mouths stop moving long enough to let our bodies do the talking, but I’ll take what I can get.

Hoisting her up, I grip her ass as her legs wrap around my hips. I carry her to my room, but she pulls her lips from mine.

“I can’t,” she sighs. “I told Rue I’d be right back. We’re supposed to play BINGO tonight.”

Pressing my forehead into her shoulder, I groan. She left me with the worst fucking case of blue balls I’ve ever had this morning, and I’ll be damned if I let it happen again.

“What if I don’t want to let you go?” I meet her gaze.

“You don’t have a choice.” Her words resist me, but her body does not. Her nipples poke through her sheer blouse. She wants me just as much as I want her. “She’s going to know something’s up if I’m gone too long.”

“Doesn’t she already know?”

“Probably. I don’t know.” She bites her lip, her chest rising and falling with quick little breaths.

“I want you so bad,” I whisper into her ear. I let her legs slide down, her back pressed against the wall. My hands run the length of her sides, my fingers running the length of her waistband until I’ve managed to dip a finger between her flesh and her panties.

“Zane.” My name on her tongue is breathless air. “Please . . .”

Her legs spread wider as I unhook the button on her jeans. Lowering myself, I lift the hem of her shirt and press kisses into her soft belly as I yank her pants to the ground.

I’m hard as a fucking rock.

Ready to go.

She has what I want.

What I
need
.

Sliding her panties down her legs, she kicks them off and moves to free my cock from the constraints of my gym shorts. Turning her to face the wall, I separate her thighs and careen my hand to her front, toying with her clit.

She’s breathless, her eyes squinting and her hands bracing her desperate, trembling body.

“You’re so damn wet,” I moan. “Are you wet for me, baby?”

“Yes.” She releases a shaky exhalation. “For you.”

Gripping her wrist, I bring it behind her back until her fingers are wrapped around my cock.

“You feel that?” I ask.

“Mm, hm,” she moans.

“I’m so hard for you, baby,” I whisper into her ear. “I’m going to fuck you against this wall, Delilah. Right here, right now, in my house, you belong to me.”

Her lips purse together as she nods, swallowing loudly and dragging her palm up and down my cock. I take it from her, positioning it between her ass cheeks and lowering it to her dripping wet pussy.

“I only have one question,” I say.

“Yes?”

“Are you on the pill?”

She nods, her eyes squeezed tight as her fists clench against the wall. With one thrust, I’m inside, fucking her hard and filthy, just the way she likes. With one hand gripping her hip and the other wrapped around the front of her neck, I have complete control.

A woman like Delilah, who controls every aspect of her world, needs this. And shit, she may even need this more than I do.

My cock is wet with her juices as I piston in and out of her from behind, her moans and sighs muffled against the wall.

If this were any other day and she weren’t in a hurry to get out the door, I’d take my time. But I don’t want to make her late.

“You getting close, baby?” I breathe against her ear.

She nods.

“I want you to come all over my cock,” I order, thrusting harder, faster. I gather her wrists in my left hand, holding them high above her head and pinning them to the wall as the sounds of my skin slapping against hers fills the silent hallway.

My cock throbs, my balls squeezing.

Within seconds, I’m spent, her tight pussy accepting every last drop of me.

“Oh, god,” she moans, jaw hanging, face wincing. She pulls in a high-pitched breath before collapsing against me, and I catch her.

I pull my cock from her and watch the remnants of our fuck session drip between her thighs.

“Holy shit.” Her eyes meet mine in the dark hall. “I never knew I could come that quickly. And it was different. It was a different kind of orgasm . . . like it was from the inside?”

Her bewildered gaze is fucking adorable, and I drop a kiss on her fuck-me lips.

“Go get cleaned up,” I say with a wink. “Aunt Rue is probably wondering what the hell is taking you so long.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” She grabs her jeans and panties from the floor, running to the bathroom and cursing my name at the same time. When she comes out a minute later, I walk her to the front door.

“You’re like some kind of sorcerer.” She stops in the doorway, turning to face me.

“Sorcerer?”

“I’m powerless every time I’m around you. It’s like you’re casting a spell or something.”

I laugh. “Not a sorcerer, Delilah. Just a man who knows what he wants.”

And how to get it.

I reach for her hair, brushing a messy tendril into place, and then I straighten the crooked hem of her shirt.

“There,” I say. “Perfect. Now nobody will know I just pounded the shit out of that sweet pussy of yours.”

Her lips twist. “You and that filthy mouth.”

“You know you love it.”

She grips the doorknob, swinging it open. “Goodnight, de la Cruz.”

Good night indeed.