Page 73 of 50 Ways to Win Back Your Lover

We don’t dive in and devour each other like I imagined we might. My heart beats in my fingertips. Her lips part in what can only be described as a decade’s worth of longing. We meet achingly slow, share each other’s breath and brush noses as our lips touch in a tentative graze, testing, savoring the closeness, the promise we’ve made, until I’m dizzy with wanting her.

Finally, I slant my lips over hers, tasting all I’ve missed—my Delilah. Our tongues graze and slide. I groan so loud the birds nearby dart for cover. Her lips are softer than I remember, her moves less tentative. She’s pushing into me, gripping my hair so tight my scalp stings, moving until she’s straddling me on the bench, grinding her hips down, and I’m a goner. I can’t believe this is happening. Even with the weeks we’ve spent together, I’m in awe. Engulfed in heat. An inferno in my veins. Fire gripping my balls. Flames burning up my heart. I’m a fire-breathing dragon, last of his kind for ten years, discovering he’s finally not alone.

“Fuck, Delilah.” I kiss her deeper, twirl our tongues in a heady rush.

Two blinding kisses later, she presses her forehead to mine, panting. “If we don’t go to our room, we’re gonna give Windfall enough gossip for another ten years.”

“If I stand up and try to move, my dick might break.”

She laughs against my lips. “That’s not possible.”

I glance down between us. “It’s never been this hard. It could happen.”

“Well.” Her whole face is red now. “We can try to make a run for it and hope for the best, or we can quit while we’re ahead and save this for later.” She swivels her hips as she speaks.

I’d rather break my dick. “When we stand, move in front of me.”

“We’re too far away for anyone to see your erection.”

“My chest and six-pack aren’t the only things that have filled out the past ten years.”

“Such a child.” Eyes flashing with mischief, she slides off my lap and grabs the fake ring from the table. She slips it into her pocket and does me the kindness of standing in front of me so I can reach into my jeans and readjust. Then we’re holding hands and walking briskly, shooting each other searing looks, going for cool when all I want is to break into a run.

Maggie sees us and gawks. I wave at her with my middle finger. Ricky notices us and nudges Aaron. The two of them smile our way. Other people gape and whisper. Instead of feeling like a caged zoo animal, I puff up my chest and strut. When we get inside the elevator, I revert to my seventeen-year-old self and maul Delilah.

I crush her against the wall, my mouth on her neck, sucking, biting, kissing. I press my thigh between hers and grab a handful of her breast. “Your body will be the death of me.”

She tries to shove her hands up my shirt, but I’m too close. “I almost died when you took your shirt off in my place. I need to feel the six-pack.”

I give a silent nod to my dearly departed Win Back Delilah list and that stellar move. The elevator slows too soon. The doors open. Reluctantly, I release her and turn to see Aaron’s parents, who were always on the conservative side, frowning at us from the hall.

Behind me, Delilah mumbles, “Shit.”

“I was checking Delilah for lice,” I say. “Her head was itchy, and you can never be too careful.” They look unconvinced. Delilah pinches my side so hard I see spots. “Can’t wait for the ceremony,” I add as we scoot past them.

The elevator seals Aaron’s parents inside, and Delilah pinches me again. “Now everyone will think I have lice.”

“It was a panic move. But back to that part about you wanting to get your hands on my six-pack.”

She gives me a gentle body check with her side. I wrap my arm around her, loving the fit of her tucked close while I walk awkwardly with the situation in my jeans. I’m desperate to teleport to our door, strip Delilah, and defile our bed, but I find myself slowing.

I stop when we reach our room and spin her toward me. “If we go in there. You won’t be a virgin any longer.”

She gives me her get-real-E look. “You took care of that ten years ago.”

I sure did, with a spritz of Eternity cologne, a soft blanket, and “Pillow Talk” playing as we fumbled with the condom. “I mean there’s no going back. If we go in there now with that fireplace and the unicorn bed, sex will happen. Are you okay with that?”

Like our first time, I ask if she’s sure. I won’t risk us rushing if it means a setback.

She threads her fingers through my hair, playing with the strands in a sensual way that makes my eyes drift shut. She leans forward, rubs her nose up my neck, then presses a soft kiss to my skin. “Fuck me in that room, E.”

TWENTY-FOUR

This is definitely not like our first time. We’re older. Wiser. Dirtier. And I’m more confident. At least, I try to be. It takes three swipes for me to get our door open—smooth as ever, E—then I’m all over Delilah, kicking the door shut, grabbing handfuls of her ass, knocking her into the bedpost. I pull up her shirt and toss it on the floor.

At the sight of her, I groan and go still. My hungry eyes consume all that smooth skin, her full breasts encased in black lace, my moon necklace resting in her cleavage, the soft dip of her stomach. Everything I’ve imagined for years but have been denied.

“Your body makes me angry.” I give my aching dick a hard rub.