Delilah's Tears

Chapter Twenty-Four

No one said this path would be easy. Our date was amazing. At first, I wanted to kick James' ass for bringing up John's presence in the condo. Do I want to have sex with him? Yeah. Do I want to think about my dead husband, his brother, when we do? Hell no. James was spot on, though. Even if I hadn't considered that, he did, and he was right. The second we got naked in my bedroom—or anywhere else in this condo—I'd be distracted by memories. And the last thing I want to do is compare the two of them. I'd thought about reneging on the whole idea of us being a couple. That certainly would have avoided any intrusive thoughts. It would, however, have sucked.

In talking to Mom and Dad, I've accepted my feelings for James a whole lot more. I'm grateful they're so open-minded. After we finished talking, I had a bit of thinking to do. Every angle came out the same. I'm kinda, sorta, maybe in love with James. Kinda. Sorta. Maybe. Just the tiniest bit. When he holds me and kisses me, my heart beats harder, my pulse kicks up a few notches, and every freaking flaming hot cell in my body screams "touch me, dammit!" I'll never admit it, but lately I've relieved a little of the tension with my BOB while running though a dozen or so fantasies in which James has a starring role. Imagining him with that brick wall body naked is one thing. In living color, I'm sure it's better than I can envision. Honestly? After the wonderful date we had, I expected us to come back to the condo and start ripping off clothes. I was a little concerned when we didn't. After James spelled it all out, I made a decision. If we're going to move forward—truly move forward—I need to show him I'm all in. He's made his position crystal clear. It's my turn.

When I went in my room to change, I took the chance to think it through. To be one hundred and ten percent sure. Because once James and I take this huge step, it can't be undone. I couldn't think of a single reason not to go there. With the wine bottle in my hand —yeah, liquid courage, so sue me—I've sealed our fate.

"Let's go."

Fifteen minutes later, James slams his front door closed behind us and sets my purse and wine bottle on the counter. The molten heat smoldering in his eyes nearly scorches me. I'm a shaking mess. Every nerve is sparking and alive. Catching my breath is difficult. I'm frozen two feet from the front door. James stalks toward me, big, muscular, imposing, and sexy as hell. He bends down and tucks his enormous hands beneath my knees and lifts me up, wrapping my legs snugly around his trim waist. He stares into my eyes as he takes a few steps, propping me against the door, both hands now firmly gripping my ass. Oh, my God. I am going to die right here and now. This is the single most erotic moment of my life, and he isn't even kissing me.

"Baby."

One word. Then, his lips are on mine, taking everything he can. It's not even soft and sensual. It's hot and possessive and dominant, and I freaking love it. My hands clasp either side of his head, afraid he's going to vanish into thin air, that this moment is nothing more than a dream. He pulls back slightly, his lips barely bushing against mine. Flexing his hips he presses his cock against my heated center. "Are you wet for me? I bet you're soaked." His voice is low, rich, heavy, his words dirty. If I weren't before I damned sure am now.

"Uh-huh."

"Hell, D-doll. You good?"

"Uh-huh." Oh, yeah. So good. Fantastic.

He nods and shores up his grip on me, turning and carrying me down the hall to the bedroom I could never bring myself to enter. The soft light of a small lamp fills the room. As he sets me on my feet, he unzips the hoodie and pushes it off my shoulders until it plops on the floor. With a gentle push, I'm sitting on the edge of the bed and he's kneeling before me, lifting one foot at a time to remove my shoes. Then he slides the elastic from my hair, letting it fall around me. His fingers weave through the strands.