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The guy had all but said Delilah wasn’t good enough for Miguel. Had he already been married to Raina at the time, maybe he would have tracked Oliver Samson down for fucking with his family.
“So he called you seeking comfort?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, to apologize. He said he saw the game where Miguel proposed, and he thought back to what he told me and saw how messed up it was. He wants us to be friends again.”
Over his dead body.
“Absolutely not.”
She rolled her eyes. “You sound like Miguel…and my brother…and Raina.”
His ears perked up. “Raina doesn’t like him?”
“You’d have an easier time counting who Rainadoeslike. She’s small, but she can be scary.”
Raina was small in stature, but her height was where “small” ended. Curves like those weren’t for mere gripping. They were for pouring into an open palm like maple syrup dripping from a tree bark.
“Anyway, let me give you a quick rundown of my conversation with Oliver…”
While Delilah continued, he listened with one ear. Now that his mind was on Raina, a crowbar wouldn’t release him from thinking about what she was doing now.
How her day was going.
The sound of her voice, her laugh.
The feel of her body in his hands.
Khalid had accused him of having a crush on Khadijah because she was curvy, and back then, he’d denied it, too young to appreciate the beauty of fuller hips, thighs, breasts, and an ass designed by a holy architect. He’d denied it, as if it was something to be ashamed of when biology had given him large hands that were a perfect fit for the notch at Raina’s hips.
Raina’s body was kryptonite, but unlike Superman, he sought every opportunity to be weakened by the green stone.
Delilah finished the pack of Skittles, ran to grab her phone from her purse, and returned to his desk, this time standing next to his chair with her elbows on the hard surface.
“So, I feel like a perv for showing you these,” she began, “but these pictures are going to be public anyhow. I figured you might be interested.”
“Pictures of what?”
“Raina’s shoot.”
He was definitely interested.
A combination of interested and pissed.
While he couldn’t justify being angry she’d been in touch with her sister over him, he was still her husband. Virtually any response to his “How are things going?” text would have sufficed.
Delilah handed over her phone.
Immediately, he slid further beneath his desk and fought with deity-like strength to keep his dick from tenting his scrubs.
Sleepwear, his ass.
Technically, it was Raina’s ass, which he couldn’t see in this particular picture, but he knew there was no way the pieces of string draped all over her body turned into anything but a thong in the back.
“That’s one of the tamer ones,” Delilah said. “I’m getting used to the nakedness of the modeling industry, but I’m a work in progress.”
“Is this,” he cocked his head to the side, “lingerie? Why would she send these to you?”
“She sends me photos from all her shoots, but you’re right. These are more on the raunchy side.” She nudged his arm. “Maybe she wanted me to show them to you. I mean, I told her I was coming to see you.”
