I swallowed hard not knowing if my reaction was from hunger or from the way Delilah made me feel. Maybe both.
“God, I am so sick of this place. I can’t even remember what it feels like outside this school. The first chance I get, I am running off into a field of daisies and disappearing forever,” she said.
“Why daisies?”
“Because they’re my favorite,” she said simply, and I tucked away that kernel of information for later.
Next, I went for the binder he kept with the lesson plans andstarted flipping through the pages. It was full of notes, Bible verses, and Delilah’s name written over and over again. My thumb flicked over the thick paper’s edges. I’d suspected Pastor John might have a fixation on Delilah from the way he kept singling her out, but this? Her name all scratched into these pages with a singular focus that scared me. He was a grown ass man. Our teacher. A man that paraded around these haunted halls flaunting his faith like a holy and good man, commanding the fear of those around him. Only, he wasn’t holy, and he for sure wasn’t good.
He had his sights set on that headmaster position, probably for the significant bump in salary, but for now the teachers were more than comfortable on the dimes of donors who were insistent on churning out the next generation of devout followers.
A hand pressed hard against my back with a light giggle.
I closed the binder shut quickly so she didn’t see her name splattered across those pages. If it freaked me out, I could only imagine what it would make her feel. As I turned, I caught a mischievous glint in Delilah’s eyes.
“Tag! You’re it!” She said, already scurrying away from me.
An involuntary smile pulled at my lips as I tracked her through the rows of desks.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked, pushing off the desk and stalking slowly towards her.
She glanced back at me, her blonde hair dancing in the soft moonlight that was filtering through the windows. There wasn’t anywhere for her to go, and I had her cornered in a few strides.
“Caught you,” I said, gripping onto her waist.
Both of us were breathing heavily as if we had run a mile.
“That’s not how the game works,” she said as I crowded her against the back wall. It was covered in inspirational posters and cherry-picked bible verses.
“Oh? And how is the game supposed to work?” I asked.
She spun around in my arms so that our chests brushed up against each other. We were so close that I could feel her breath on me and could see the dilation in her pupils.
“You’re supposed to tag me, so I can tag you back.”
“My mistake,” I murmured. My hands found a sliver of her skin that was peeking out from her pajamas. She felt warm. I traced that line with my thumb, feeling the smoothness of her morph into goosebumps with that small, but deliberate touch.
“I guess you could cut me some slack though, seeing as how it’s my birthday,” I said.
“It’s your birthday?”
I nodded.
Our lips were so close now that the tip of my nose rubbed against hers.
“Happy birthday,” she said, licking her lips. “I feel like I should get you a present, but I don’t have anything.”
“This is a good enough present,” I said, eyes roaming her face.
Her hands found my biceps and pulled me closer ever so gently. My brain had gone quiet, thinking nothing of the outside world. She and I were all that existed. Not Kingston. Not our shitty parents. Just her and I and this moment.
Time seemed to stretch as she lifted onto her toes and closed the gap between us. Our mouths found each other, meeting in a heady kiss that seared itself on my soul. Her lips tasted like mint mixed with pure, unyielding heat.
My hands roamed the length of her body, finding the sweet peaks of her nipples straining against the cotton of her pajamas. My cock surged to life, rutting up against her center with desperation. I felt like I could come just from this alone.
“Fuck,” I moaned into her mouth, kissing her again.
When the tip of her tongue teased against mine, I nearly detonated in my pants, making me rear away from her to take a steadying breath before I embarrassed myself.
