The Wildwood: Smolder Part 5

Lane scowled, banishing the thought.

Delilah blushed, her gaze dropping from his as she carefully picked up a drumstick and nibbled on it, her pinky fingers lifted high, pale pink polish covering her nails. She looked delicate. Beautiful. Downright untouchable. He fought his l.u.s.t for her every time they were near each other. He wasnt for her. Too rough around the edges; too rough, period. She deserved a nice guy. One who was interested in culture and the arts and all that other bulls.h.i.t. She was a breath of fresh air in this town. Always trying to do something different, bring a little more color into everyones lives.

He wasnt a big believer in that sort of thing. It didnt interest him. Delilah was a rainbow, and he was black and white. Not even any shades of gray. And now he was thinking about that book and the movie hed watched on HBO"the one that hed thought was horrible yet fascinated him all the same.

I shouldnt even eat this sort of thing, she mumbled. So fatty.

One meal of fried chicken isnt going to kill you, he chided, his voice soft.

Sighing, she dropped the drumstick onto her plate, then reached for her winegla.s.s, leaving smudgy fingerprints on it after she sipped. Guess Ill have to work out extra hard tomorrow.

He could give her a workout, an extra hard one too. In fact, that sounded perfect: a night of blisteringly hot s.e.x with Delilah. Where he could lose himself in her for a few hours. Forget all his troubles. Forget all of his hang-ups when it came to this woman. Focus instead on his pleasure as well as Delilahs. Strip her naked. Search her skin, examine those long, long legs, feel them wrap around him when he entered her. Her thighs clenched tight around his hips just as she came . . .

Do you want more? Or maybe something to drink? She started to get up from her chair, and he reached out, placing his hand over hers to keep her from moving. Always moving, fluttering about like a b.u.t.terfly.

Sit down, Dee. His voice was a quiet command, the tone he usually saved for work, and she immediately sat back down, scooting her chair closer to the table, her expression contrite. She was blushing again. Even her chest bloomed with a faint pink color, and he was curious to know exactly how far down that pretty shade extended. Just eat your dinner and dont worry about me.

She did as he requested, quiet at first. The clank of silverware against the plates was the only sound in the otherwise hushed silence of the room. He tried his best to keep his gaze focused on the meal before him, but it kept straying to the woman at his right. Who ate calmly and flashed him an unsure smile every time their gazes caught, just before she looked away.

He liked this. The silence. The company. The fact that it was Delilah whod snuck into his house"it was crazy, but he could forgive her"and wanted to take care of him. No one ever wanted to take care of him. He was the oldest. The one everyone else turned to for advice, help, a.s.sistance, money, approval. When the s.h.i.t got rough, his siblings turned to him, with the exception of West. Hed just turned tail and took off.

But now he was back. Every Gallagher sibling was in Wildwood like they were supposed to be and everyone was happy. Content. For the most part. Wren seemed restless. Holden was coddled and that was a recipe for disaster if anyone asked Lane. West was in love"ridiculously so. And Lane . . .

Lane was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He wanted what he couldnt have. He l.u.s.ted after a woman who deserved more. He was consumed with work, worried about his mom, worried about an anonymous arsonist, worried about his town, worried about Delilah and what she might think of him if he did ever make a move on her . . .

Determination filled him. He needed a plan. He needed to get his town back under control and rea.s.sure them that they werent in danger. If he hoped to be sheriff one day"and he did"he needed to do right by his small town and the entire county. Keep everyone safe. Convince the residents that he was the man for the job. He could do that. He knew he could.

But could he devote the proper amount of time to his job with Delilah around? He couldnt afford any distractions. Most women didnt understand his job or that he didnt work normal hours. Delilah might . . .

But he didnt know if he could count on that. Count on her.

He could count only on himself.

So hed eat his dinner, thank her profusely because she at least deserved that, and then send her on her way. He needed to keep it friendly. No crossing the line, no matter how tempting.

And Delilah was temptation personified.

Chapter Six.

DELILAH DIDNT THINK dinner had gone particularly well, considering how quiet Lane had become beyond the occasional grunt of approval when he tore into another piece of chicken. Shed watched him in fascination, taking in every little detail. He ate like a real man, not like the men shed dated in the past. If that was even a thing, eating like a real man. But to her, it was true. The way he tore into his food, chasing it down with a sip of water or multiple swallows of wine. Hed given up on the wine after polishing off his first gla.s.s, going to the kitchen to grab a beer instead.

Shed watched not so discreetly every time he brought that brown bottle to his lips, his fingers curved around the long neck. Admiring how he tilted his head back, she had dropped her gaze to the strong column of his neck, how his Adams apple had bobbed with every swallow. Her skin grew warmer with every single swallow. Her head had spun dizzily. All from watching Lane drink.

Clearly, she had major issues.

Once dinner was finished shed corralled him into the kitchen, asking for his help with the sweetest tone she could muster. Hed protested at first, saying he could clean up, but she insisted until he reluctantly agreed, mumbling something about needing her to leave as soon as they were done so he could get some rest. Shed ignored the additional mumbling about him being exhausted, until hed mumbled something about talking to his mom in the morning and how he wasnt looking forward to it.

That got her attention, filling her with immediate sympathy.

Cleaning up will help take your mind off your troubles, dont you think? She smiled brightly and nodded toward the full sink. Shed made a mess of his kitchen and really, the man shouldnt have to pick up after her, but she wasnt about to let him usher her out of his house yet either. She knew how he operated. First chance he got, he was shoving her out the front door, without even a swat on the a.s.s to give her a temporary thrill. Any other guy would smack her b.u.t.t. She had a good b.u.t.t. A fantastic b.u.t.t that was toned and firm and gave her something to show off since she was pretty flat-chested. And she should have a good b.u.t.t, what with all the hours she danced and danced and danced . . .

Dee. Lane snapped his fingers in front of her face, making her blink. You want to clear the table, or should I? He said it like a man whod asked the question multiple times.

His tone of voice made her stand at attention and practically bristle with good intentions. She needed to focus, not get lost in a haze that took over every time she was in his presence. If you could, that would be great, she said. Ill start cleaning up in here. The kitchen was definitely the harder job.

So they went to work, Lane bringing in dirty dishes and the half-empty platter of chicken. They worked well together, with a quiet efficiency that she could appreciate and he probably didnt even notice. Clueless was Lane Gallaghers middle name. And, if it wasnt, it shouldve been because the man had no clue. None. He couldnt pick up on a hint, no matter how hard she tried.

Well, maybe you should smack him over the head with it. Make your feelings for him so obvious he cant escape them.

She sc.r.a.ped off plates over the garbage can, then stacked the remaining dishes in the sink. Hadnt she just told him the ball was in his court? Wasnt he the one who needed to make the next move? Yet here she was making him dinner because she felt sorry for him and was worried about his mom, about his entire family. But more than anything, she was worried about him. About Lane.

Who took care of Lane anyway? He was so busy taking care of his brothers and sister, his parents . . . h.e.l.l, the entire d.a.m.n town depended on Lane to take care of them. He watched over them, making sure they were all safe and sound.

But who made sure Lane was safe and sound? He had needs too. And she wasnt just talking s.e.xually, though she could satisfy those if hed just let her.

Her thoughts drifted to earlier, when hed barged into the kitchen with his gun drawn wearing just his boxer briefs. The gun had terrified her, she couldnt lie, but shed been more distracted by the mostly naked Lane. He was built perfectly. She could imagine winding herself around him, her fingers clutched in his hair, his hands on her waist, sliding down, down, down . . .

Are you trying to sc.r.a.pe the color off that plate too? Lanes amused voice brought her back and she glanced down, surprised to find herself still sc.r.a.ping a fork across a now-bare plate.

Clearing her throat, she set the plate and fork into the sink and then turned on the water so she could start rinsing everything off. You cleared the entire table already? she asked when she realized that pretty much everything was now either lined up on the counter or filling the sink.

Yep. He opened the fridge and set the salad dressing bottle in the side door shelf. What else do you need done?

They loaded the dishwasher together before she filled the sink with hot soapy water and stuck in the pan shed used to fry the chicken so it could soak. Then she sent Lane back into the dining room to wipe down the table while she wiped the kitchen counters clean with a damp rag. By the time she was finished, the kitchen shone, and she plunged her hands into the hot water, scrubbing the pan furiously to get the remaining chicken bits and grease off.

What would it be like, if she and Lane were in a real relationship? Would they be completely domesticated, sharing moments like this every evening? Sometimes she worked late and Lane seemed to work all hours of the day and night, so maybe it wouldnt be quite like this but it was close enough. She could fix him meals and he could help her clean the kitchen. Then they could go settle in on the couch and watch TV. Play wandering hands for a bit before they became too overcome and started to kiss. Then shed make him pick her up"because she would bet a million dollars he could lift her, no problem"and carry her into the bedroom. Where hed strip her naked and proceed to take her straight to heaven.

The wistful sigh that escaped her was loud. So loud that Lane heard it.

You all right?

Whoops.

He stopped just behind her, so close she could feel the heat emanating from him. Goose b.u.mps rose on her skin from his proximity, and she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip to keep in the shuddery breath that wanted to fall from her lips.

Im fine. She shook her head, going completely still when his large hand settled on her shoulder. Oh, G.o.d, he was touching her. She wanted to melt. Or faint. Or turn around and throw herself at him. Whatever reaction took over first.

Water too hot? His voice was a low, rumbly murmur. You can just let that pan soak if you want. Ill take care of it in the morning.

No, no. Ill wash it. She sounded high-pitched, like Minnie Mouse after sucking on a balloon full of helium. His nearness made her nervous. Worse, she was afraid hed let go of her and step away and shed miss her opportunity. Opportunity for what, she wasnt sure.

You dont have to"

She cut him off. I made the mess, so Ill clean up after myself. I dont mind.

He was silent for a moment, though his hand didnt move. Shockingly enough, he stepped closer, so close his body brushed hers, and she braced her hand on the bottom of the sink so she wouldnt lean back into him. She was sorely tempted to do exactly that.

But she remained upright with his hand on her shoulder, his breath stirring the wild hairs near her ear as he murmured, Thank you for dinner, Dee. It means a lot to me that you did this.

She left her hands submerged in the water. It was either that or end up groping him. I figured you were feeling stressed.

Im still feeling stressed. He hesitated, then squeezed her shoulder gently. But this helped. Youre a good friend, Delilah.

His words were like a cold dose of reality. A reality she didnt want to face. A reality she didnt have to face if the ignorant man would just give in to the attraction that had been simmering between them for weeks, months, freaking years.

Removing her hands from the water, she turned to face him. His hand dropped away from her shoulder, his expression one of open shock. She went on pure instinct, grabbing hold of the front of his shirt, her wet fingers curling into the thin cotton, drenching it completely.

Im more than a friend and you know it. Her voice was surprisingly firm.

He said nothing, his gaze dropping to her mouth, lingering there. She parted her lips, a shocked noise escaping her when he bent his head and his mouth hovered above hers for the briefest, most tantalizing second of her entire life.

Youd like it if I kissed you, wouldnt you? His voice was a harsh whisper, his lips nearly moving against hers as he spoke.

A squeak wheezed out of her, and she tried to suck in a mouthful of air but it was no use. Hed claimed all the oxygen with his nearness, with his words, with the tease of his mouth so d.a.m.n close to hers. She tightened her hold on his shirt, tugging on him, frustration rendering her mute.

You know how long Ive thought about this? He slipped an arm around her waist, hauling her into him, and she swore he groaned low in his throat when their bodies made full contact. Dreamed about it? Every time were together, its all I can think about. Kissing you. Touching you.

Oh. My. She couldnt believe what he was saying. Was it the beer? Hed had two plus the gla.s.s of wine. Well, tipsy Lane or sober Lane, whoever he was, as long as he was touching her, she wasnt protesting.

I shouldnt do this, he muttered, his arm loosening around her waist as he started to pull away from her. She reached for the back of his neck, her fingers curling in the hair at his nape, trapping him. He struggled but not too hard and his eyes blazed as he stared down at her. You dont want to start with me.

Why? The word rasped from her throat, her voice full of all the bewilderment and confusion coursing through her veins. Arent you tired of fighting it? Weve been working toward this moment for a long time.

Im not the right man for you, he said through tight lips.

She barely restrained the urge to roll her eyes at his statement. How many times had she heard a similar response from him? Always protesting, always claiming he wasnt good enough, wasnt right for her, that the two of them together would cause each other nothing but heartache and trouble.

Let me be the judge of that, she said as she pressed on the back of his neck, her nails lightly sc.r.a.ping his warm, smooth skin. He drew closer, as if he couldnt help himself, and triumph rang through her, setting off a vibration deep in her bones. Im a big girl, Lane, she whispered as his mouth once again hovered above hers. Im not scared of you.

You should be, he muttered.

Just before he kissed her.

SHE WAS WARM. And soft. Oh, and wet.

Her hands, at least. Yeah, theyd soaked the front of his T-shirt and there were trickles of water running down his back when she gripped his nape.

Hed tried to fight it, tried to resist because d.a.m.n it, he shouldnt kiss her. He absolutely should not kiss her, not even once, just to try her out, but . . .

He did. Ah, Christ, he f.u.c.king did, and her lips were so plump and damp and soft, and she tasted so incredibly good. He let her take over the kiss, curious to see how far she would take it, and so far shed kept it simple. Too simple. No tongue, just deliciously slow kisses where their mouths clung and their breaths mingled and their answering sighs were barely audible.

Delilah was kissing him. He couldnt believe it. Delilah. The woman of his dreams. The woman whod haunted him for years. Whod teased him and tortured him and drove him out of his f.u.c.king mind with l.u.s.t. Kissing him like she was a young innocent girl embarking on her first real encounter with the opposite s.e.x, full of hesitation and seemingly unsure.

He clenched his hands into fists, preventing him from doing what he really wanted: gathering her skirt in his fingers so he could pull it up, exposing her a.s.s and giving himself a chance to check out what color panties she might be wearing. And the style. A thong maybe? He would be so lucky to catch a glimpse of her perfect little a.s.s naked, with a thin gossamer string between her cheeks . . .

His c.o.c.k twitched at the thought, and he groaned against her lips, his mouth opening wider as he encouraged her to do the same. She gave in easily. Beautifully. She parted her lips on an inhalation, and he took advantage, thrusting his tongue inside, searching her mouth, curling it around hers. It was her turn to moan, and the sound was like a jolt of electricity sparkling through his veins. He gave in to his urges and unclenched his fingers, gathering up that wispy thin skirt, lifting it high, higher, the fabric crumpling in his fingers until he heard her gasp when he knew the cool air had hit her backside.

Oh, he was treading on dangerous territory here, but f.u.c.k it. He could claim he was buzzed. Shove her away, tell her it was a mistake so shed leave his house in a huff, hurt and upset. That was how they usually operated, so it wouldnt seem out of character for him to do something like that.

But . . . he couldnt make himself do it. Now that hed had a taste, he wanted another. He wanted more. He wanted to touch and feel and explore and kiss and undress and all those other bad, dangerous things he shouldnt want. Not with Delilah.

Lane. She whispered his name when he broke the kiss to slide his lips along the length of her neck. She smelled d.a.m.n good. Sweet and floral with a hint of spice. Her hair was incredibly soft and brushed against his face when he kissed her ear, nibbled on the lobe, murmuring her name and making her shiver. Dont stop.

Whyd she have to go and say that? He lifted his head and stared down at her pretty upturned face, her lids at half-mast, her lips damp and swollen from their shared kisses. He should stop. He knew he should stop. Once he reached the point of no return all h.e.l.l would break loose and he might scare Delilah. That was the last thing he wanted to do. She was a good girl. She deserved a man who would respect her and treat her like a princess. Lane respected the h.e.l.l out of her, always had, but could he treat her like a princess?

Only if princesses liked to be f.u.c.ked hard against a wall. h.e.l.l, his kitchen counter would do. But he doubted she would like that sort of thing. Well, she might at first but the novelty would wear off quick. The dirty talk might turn her off too.

Or would it? Hed been with women who liked being f.u.c.ked gently in bed, missionary style, neat and tidy and finished in less than fifteen minutes. Hed also met women who hated that sort of thing.

What did Delilah prefer? She was pretty feisty. Always putting up a fight. Chasing after him and always brave enough to tell him how she felt.

Most of the time, she was braver than him.

Maybe she liked it hard and fast and dirty"like he did. Sometimes he said the worst things, things that had turned off more than one woman from his past. Would his ways and words turn off Delilah?

But he wasnt willing to test it to find out. They shared too many years, too many memories. Her friendship was too valuable, and he wasnt about to risk her finding out he was a dirty motherf.u.c.ker.

Practically having to wrench his lips from hers, he let go of her and took a step back, Delilahs hands falling away from him with the motion. Her skirt fell back into place; her chest heaved with her labored breaths. His breathing was just as labored, his lungs aching, his entire body aching over the loss of her nearness. She gaped at him as he kept moving, putting distance between them until he deemed it safe.

For her or him, he wasnt sure.

That . . . His voice drifted and he swallowed hard. Shouldnt have happened.

Her eyes looked ready to pop out of her head. Why would you say that?

Because. He sounded like an idiot. Because. What sort of reason was that? You and me"we wouldnt work.

Delilah threw her hands up into the air, growling. Literally growling with frustration as she stormed toward him, her eyes blazing with anger, her mouth formed into a determined line. He took another step back, his b.u.t.t hitting the wall behind him, and she reached out, her hands slapping his chest with enough force to make him wince. Youre an idiot.

He knew this. Wasnt going to bother arguing with her.

Why do you keep denying whats happening between us? When he said nothing, she shoved him again and he let her. She needed to get out her frustration and anger, so why not let himself be her punching bag? It was all directed at him anyway because he was the source of those emotions. Why did you have to go and ruin such a . . . beautiful moment between us?

Lane snickered at her choice of words. He couldnt help it. And when he saw a murderous glow in Delilahs dark brown eyes, he figured hed really stepped in it. Yet the words tumbled from his lips anyway. A beautiful moment, Dee?

She crossed her arms, glaring at him. I should hit you.

Beautiful? Really? Is that what you prefer? Sweet, precious kisses where you get swept off your feet by the white knight whos come to save you? He practically sneered with disgust.

Oh, he was being mean now, but he couldnt help it. Maybe this would push her away once and for all. End this torturous attraction between them for good. He needed to do something to cut her off and redirect her toward someone else. A man who was a better fit for her"she deserved that, at least.

Delilah just blinked at him, surprise etched on her features. They stared at each other for what felt like an hour. Im not looking for a white knight, she finally said.