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“I was just heading out. I’ll ask Asher about you borrowing his truck. I’m sure he’ll tell me no and do it himself instead.” Madelyn stands up from her seat, puts a twenty-dollar bill down, and moves toward Delilah.
“Thanks, I appreciate it. See you soon.” The girls hug, and I wait patiently while they finish up their silent conversation. There are a bunch of head nods, a wink comes from Delilah, and Madelyn laughs. The whole time, I’m an outsider looking in. It’s fucking amazing to watch unfold.
“Later,” Madelyn says, nodding to me before walking away.
“What was that all about?” I ask, taking my seat across from Delilah. She cocks her head to the side. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m showing my hand by sitting with her in public or about the conversation involving using my brother’s truck for my damn woman.
“Care to elaborate?” Delilah follows up with a question of her own.
“Never been around two girls who are friends much; had brothers growing up. I’m not interested in what the two of you said without saying anything. What furniture do you need moved, and why would you go to Asher instead of me?” I rest my forearms on the table in front of us. Madelyn may have been done eating, but it looks like Delilah barely made a dent. She shrugs her shoulder and pushes her food toward me. “Delilah,” I push her to respond.
“I’m full. I was starving when we got here, we ordered appetizers, and I thought I needed to follow it up with a medium pizza and a medium salad. Please, help me finish it. As for the furniture, Mad’s offered.”
“Damn, me too. I’ll pick up your furniture and deliver it. I’m off shift for the day. I doubt it’ll fit in the squad car. Won’t take me long to head home, switch out vehicles, then get it loaded up. What did you get?” I take a bite of her pizza. I’d usually be a bit pickier, wanting the kind with red sauce, a shit ton of meat, and a healthy dose of garlic crust.
“Pretty bold, don’t you think? Sitting with me in public, offering to help deliver furniture to my place. I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Fletch.” Her lips wrap around her straw, and I already know tonight is going to end with them wrapped around my cock. This time, I’ll come down her throat, and she’ll suck me down, all the way to the back of her throat. I shift in my seat as my length thickens in my jeans. Walking out of here could pose a problem.
“What’s the harm in helping out the Chief’s daughter?” I’m the biggest dick there is, asking her to keep this charade up while going behind my boss’ back.
“I’ll call my dad and let him know. Otherwise, some damn neighbor will be running to their phone.” I shake my head, lips tipping up in a smile. Good ole’ small town living. It never bothered me much before, but now that I’ve got something to lose, it’s not making me feel warm and cozy.
“Alright, will you take payment from me of some kind?”
“Nope, don’t even think about it.” The waitress comes up to our table.
“Can I get y’all anything?” she asks.
“A Coke to go and the check.” There’s no sense in beating around the bush, plus it looks like Delilah has something to say.
“Sure thing. I’ll be right back with both.” I wait until she is gone. The rest of the place isn’t very busy, so when Delilah moves closer, forearms on the table, her full tits on full display from the V of her shirt, I do the only thing there is to do: I move closer.
“Then I guess I’ll have to repay you in the form of orgasms,” she whispers with a rasp, reminiscent of how she says my name when I’m fucking my cock into her tight cunt. There goes us leaving any time soon. The thought of her and orgasms, her mouth on my cock, her riding me until she comes, me tossing her on her back and fucking her into oblivion, it all plays like a reel on repeat in my head. My cock goes from semi to hard like a car goes from zero to sixty in under five damn seconds.
“You’re damn right you will. Figure out whose place we’ll be at tonight, Delilah. I’m not going another night without hearing you moan my name, having a taste of you on my lips, and feeling you come around my cock,” I announce, seeing the waitress making her way back from the corner of my eye. Delilah’s eyes are blazing with need, and she nods her head once before following my lead.
“Tonight,” she mouths. Fuck, yeah, I’m more than ready to wrap this up, pick up whatever the hell she bought, get it set up, and maybe it’ll be big enough for her to lie across while I fuck my woman.
Chapter 9
Delilah
“Holy shit, umm… maybe I should have brought a measuring tape.” I’m standing near my open garage door, watching as Fletcher backs into my driveway. My apartment is more like a condo, and I was lucky a unit became available when it did. Sometimes, my spur-of-the-moment plans backfire on me in the worst way possible. I was down to the wire, the lease on my last apartment was ending soon, and my job trying to kill me off didn’t help either. So, I made a couple of phone calls to line this place up, and once it was secured, I called my parents. Dad about hit the fan when I laid everything out. He is not a man who likes change, especially when it comes to his only daughter. Which is why sneaking around with Fletcher is good and bad. The fallout, when it comes, will be of epic proportions, but it’ll be worth it. You can’t convince me any differently. I do worry about Fletch and what it’ll mean for his job. I’ve done some reading online about the process of firing a deputy sergeant when you’re the chief. It would be hard for my father to do without a very long process involved. That doesn’t mean he couldn’t make his life hell for the duration. Which is why we have to be on the same page, because I know my dad. This won’t be easy for him to digest. He’ll have no problem lashing out, and his tongue can be venom laced.
Fletch puts the truck in park, opens the driver’s door, steps out of the truck, and my clit throbs. He’s changed since we parted ways at the pizza place. The one thing about not letting anyone know we’re together is there are no public goodbyes.
No kiss.
No hugs.
Not even the barest of touches with the tips of our fingers.
My eyes start at the bottom and work their way up. He’s still in the same jeans and boots, but his shirt is no longer the starched uniform. Instead, Fletch is wearing a black top with a The Wild Brothers Peach Farm logo. His arms are on full display—one is a full sleeve of tattoos, from shoulder to his knuckles, while the other isn’t covered nearly as much, focusing more on his bicep. Still, I can see the design dipping below his shirt sleeve.
“My eyes are up here, Delilah,” he states, but I don’t give him my full attention. Yet. His muscles flex, and I’m lost in watching as they do when he reaches for the door to shut it. Seriously, this man does things to me that I have never felt before. He takes a step closer, and finally, I avert my gaze to him. “Woman, I can’t do shit with us out in the open, and with the way you’re looking at me, I’m not going to last another ten seconds.”
I move closer, my hand reaching out before I pull it back to my side. Yep, this is one of those moments I’m going to hate having to hide. Get your shit together, Delilah Taylor. The faster we get the desk inside, the sooner we can be alone.
“Okay. Well, I think we may have a problem.” I blink, trying to change the subject instead of imagining what his lips would feel like pressed against mine. Yes, we kissed when he left this morning, but that was hours upon hours ago.
