Tragic Love (4 page)

“Well, well, well, who do we have here? Because, from what I see, it looks like my night just got better,” Jake says with his eyes intently boring into Delilah’s. She rolls her eyes at his extremely lame pick up line. Yeah, this is going to be classic. Where the hell is Darcie? She’s going to miss all the action.

Presley quickly intercedes. “Jake, this is my best friend from Memphis. She’s staying with us for the summer.”

“Oh, shit! I thought Reggie was just fucking with me. Looks like I owe him fifty bucks. I didn’t believe him when he told me we were going to have a new roommate.”

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. Jake and Reggie are always making bets against each other. If it’s not a big game or races, it’s stupid shit like this.

Delilah breaks from his gaze and walks over to the other side of the table where she reaches her hand out and introduces herself, “Hi, I’m Delilah St. James. You must be Jake.”

Jake clasps her hand and holds it firmly while his eyes look intense for a moment and then quickly transform to smiling with wickedness. “That’s right, sweetheart, and I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive to have you as a roommate. What can I get you to drink?”

Delilah releases his hand and blushes slightly. “Old fashion cherry Coke, please.”

Jake’s brow wrinkles in confusion then he looks to me for an explanation. I just shake my head, trying to stifle a laugh that is on the verge of exploding from my body. “What the hell is that?”

I can’t hold it in anymore. I start laughing hysterically because I know Jake is going to have fun with this once he figures out what it really is. Delilah is looking at me like I’m growing an extra head and says, “Hasn’t anyone here ever heard of it? Coke mixed with cherry grenadine.”

“…and what else?” Jake still looks completely lost.

“Nothing, that’s it,” Delilah singsongs as she moves back to her seat.

“No whiskey or rum?”

“Oh, no, not for me. I don’t drink.” She smoothes down the front of her dress and looks as innocent as possible when she bats her eyelashes.

Jake releases a huge laugh and has to hold onto the side of the table to keep him upright from falling over. “You don’t drink? That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, cupcake.”

The sweet and composed Delilah has disappeared and now she’s throwing daggers with her eyes. I’ve never seen a woman’s face transform so quickly from sweet to evil in two seconds flat. Presley is squeezing the life out of my hand, wanting me to help, but I can’t. This is the best thing I’ve seen all day and it will only be the start of the drama we will witness this summer.

“Why is that so amusing? There are a lot of people who don’t drink,” she seethes.

“Yeah, and those people were or are in rehab,” Jake says.

Delilah looks over to Jeremy who is taking a drink of water. Then a proud grin spreads across her cheeks before she counters, “He doesn’t drink.”

“Exactly my point, he’s been rehabilitated from booze.”Delilah looks like she’s ready to snatch his head from his body and I am secretly wishing Darcie was here to witness this, she would be busting a gut right now.

I feel the sharp elbow in my side and I look to meet Presley’s murderous glare. But shit, I can’t help it. This is too funny. I shrug my shoulder, trying to play innocent in the pleasure I’m getting from watching the two of them.

Delilah corrects her posture then clears her throat. “Well, I assure you, Mr. Evans, I am not in rehab nor have I ever been. I do not drink because it only causes people to act like idiots, which leads me believe you’ve had several drinks because that is exactly how you’re acting. There is no way a gentleman would question a lady’s choice of whether or not she drinks.”

Jake walks around the table and leans into her side. “Well, lucky for you I’m not a gentleman and I assure
you
by the end of the summer, I will have you so hot that the only way you’ll cool off is to take a drink.” He gives her his signature wink as he lifts her chin with his fingers.

She turns her head and meets his eyes. Delilah looks like she’s ready to eat him alive. “You’re disgusting.” She then crosses her arms over her chest and pulls her head back, getting her chin out of his fingers. Jake turns to leave, strutting all the way. Oh shit, these two are either going to screw like rabbits or kill each other.

***

After Delilah and Jake’s awkward, yet hilarious encounter, they ignored each other for the remainder of the night. Toward closing time, Reggie and Darcie came over, so he can introduce himself and then start kicking us out. We say our goodbyes and I am jumping up and down inside because I’ve wanted to get Presley alone since I laid eyes on her this afternoon. I’ve had to convince myself to show some restraint while we were at the bar, but all I can think about is pushing her up against the wall and sinking myself deep inside of her.

Jake and Darcie stay behind to help clean up, which leaves Jeremy and I to escort the girls home. I let the ladies sit together in the back. Delilah is still seething about her meeting with Jake at the same time that Presley is trying to explain to her that it is simply how he is and the best thing to do is ignore him, otherwise he will keep at it. Very, very true. Jake is relentless once he’s figured out how to get to you. He will just push you until you’re ready to kill him or jump off a cliff.

When we pull in the driveway, I usher the ladies from the car and up the stairs. Walking right behind Presley, I keep my eyes glued on her ass as her hips sway with every step she climbs. Oh fuck, I’m not going to last too much longer and I hope Delilah doesn’t need any more attention because it’s my turn.

We all start walking down the hall and I grab a hold of Presley’s arm, pulling her into our room. She presses her back against the wall as I push my body against hers then capture her mouth to mine. Her lips are unbelievably soft and taste like cherries. She loves her cherry Chapstick and every time I kiss her, that’s exactly how she tastes. It’s intoxicating. I start to kiss down her jaw and lightly bite her ear lobe.

“Please tell me you’re done with her because I don’t think I can wait another minute.”

She releases a little moan and barely replies, “L—let me make sure she’s settled and I’ll be right back.”

I plant another deep kiss to her lips then release her from my body. Breathlessly, she slips away and down the hall. I rest my forehead against the wall in an attempt to calm myself down before I shrug over to my iPod and scroll through the playlists. I come across the one I played the first time we had sex. I laugh at the memory. Some random internet site gave a list of what they said were the perfect lovemaking songs and I took their advice, creating the playlist. Every single song is completely opposite from the type of music I listen to, but Presley later told me that she loved the songs, so I’m ready to use them to my advantage again.

As soon as Sade’s smooth lyrics leave the speakers, my bedroom door flies open and then closes. Standing in front of me is the love of my life and she is staring at me through lust-filled eyes. In two steps, I cross the room and pick her up in my arms, craving the feel of her body against mine. Instinctively, she wraps her small, tight legs around my waist and our lips meet. I start to kiss her deeply, tasting her tongue with mine as we express every ounce of love we have for one another. I can’t believe how much this woman means to me. She is the very breath in my body and without her love I would suffocate.

I slowly walk us over to our bed and lie down on the soft mattress. Presley doesn’t detach her legs from my body until I am lying completely on top of her. I’m dying to feel her skin.

I begin to run my hand underneath her shirt and onto the soft skin of her stomach. I can feel the healed bumps of the razor blade scars as my fingers make their way higher. She sits up slightly, removing her t-shirt in the process, and I follow her lead, grabbing a hold of mine behind my neck and yanking it off. God, she is so beautiful and perfect, every inch of her.

Sitting up on my knees, I undo the button of her jeans and slowly pull them over her hips and down her legs. She’s lying in front of me with her black lace bra and panties as my dick is swelling, ready to explode.

We’ve done this many times since the first and every single time is always this intense. The electricity between us sends a current ripping through my body. There is nothing like what we have and I could never compare it to another person again. Presley and I are perfect. The love we have between us is perfect. There is nothing that will break it apart.

I stand, pulling my jeans down and then pick up her foot. From the tip of her toe I start to plant sensual kisses, making my way up her legs, tasting every inch of her skin. Goosebumps are forming on her legs, but it’s not from the temperature, it’s because she is getting wet with every brush of my lips and each lick of my tongue against her soft skin.

I reach her panties then hook my fingers inside the fabric, tugging them down her legs. Presley’s chest is heaving up and down from anticipation, she knows what’s about to happen and craves it as much as I do.

Tossing her panties to the floor, I bend down and resume kissing her legs, making my way to the apex of her thighs. The moment my tongue touches her delicate skin, she releases a moan of pure desire and I can feel her trembling against me. As I rub circles on her with my tongue, my hand begins to creep up to her breasts before I tug them out of her bra. Her nipples are hard pebbles under my fingers.

I rub one between the pads of my index finger and thumb, giving it a light tug, making it even harder when Presley’s quaking starts followed by the moaning of my name. Once she is finished, I kiss my way up her stomach and yank the straps of her bra down, completely freeing her breasts. She quickly sits up and discards the garment with the rest of our clothes.

I lie back on top of her and find her mouth again. I’m feeling completely overwhelmed with love and all I want to do is express exactly how I feel about her with my lips, my words and my body.

Between kisses I whisper, “I love so much, Presley.”

She runs her feet up my legs and hooks her toes into the waistband of my boxers then slides them down with her feet. Holy shit! I think I just fucking died. That was so insanely hot.

Presley leans up to my ear and demands, “Drake, I need you, now. Please make love to me.” With that, she grabs a hold of my ass, pushing my dick between her folds and inside her tight opening.

I shudder at the warm, amazing sensation of her body. Our bodies tango in unison. With each pump of my hips, I push myself deeper into her body, hitting the sweet spot. Presley’s hips begin to meet mine with every movement, making the sensation last longer and become more intense. She is panting with need as I thrust hard and deep. Then Presley releases a scream, coming apart around me. I soon join her, embracing our high together.

Chapter 4

Presley

I stand in my room, pacing back and forth. My stomach is clenched in pain and at any moment I could expel the little amount of contents inside it. Delilah is sitting on my bed, reading aloud from the provided pamphlet, getting the instructions of the home pregnancy test.

I have no idea what she is really saying to me because all I can think about is how horrible it would be to be eighteen and pregnant. I already know I will be an epic failure at being a mother, and honestly, I have no desire to have a child, ever. My brain is not capable of loving anyone, including myself. If you don’t love yourself, is it possible to love something you created? Maybe for some, but not for me; I love only one person and it’s the one person that is keeping me alive.

Drake is the only exception to my stone-filled heart because, without him, I would be a husk of a woman, an empty soul; depressed and drowning in a sea of unimaginable pain. He is the only person who can keep the demon inside me at bay. He is the only reason I wake up in the morning; why I put one foot in front of the other.

Having a child would change everything. I wouldn’t be able to have him whenever I needed him. Selfishly, I don’t think I could share, not because I don’t want to, but I don’t know how I would survive if he couldn’t give me the happiness or high I’m chasing. Now, if I need that euphoric happiness, all I have to do is say something sexual and we are naked and banging. That won’t happen if we have a child.

I watch the time, counting down the seconds as Delilah continues to read about what we are expecting to see on the little white sick. Six weeks ago, I would have never thought being pregnant was possible. Yes, I’ve been puking every day for a week and with every move I make, my breasts feel like someone is stabbing them with needles, yet I never thought it would be this. I was expecting to have cancer or some rare incurable disease and honestly, I welcomed it. I will welcome anything except being pregnant.

Two hours ago, Delilah found me lying on the bathroom floor, exhausted from the last bout of vomiting. “You know, doll, you’ve been doing this every day for awhile now. Don’t you think you need to go to the doctor? To find out for sure?”

I looked over at her like she was crazy. What the hell is she talking about? “For sure about what? That I have the flu?”

She looks me up and down, studying my appearance, and then asks, “What other symptoms do you have? Exhaustion?”

“Yes,” I barely get out.

“Nausea?”

“Duh, I just got done puking my guts out!” I snap.

“Irritability, definitely,” she flips back.

“So what kind of flu is this? I’ve never felt so horrible in my life.” I’m begging her to give me answers, knowing she has little to no experience with anything medical.

Delilah cocks her head to the side as she leans against the sink. “How about sore boobs?

“You have no idea, they hurt so badly,” I whimper.

She squats down and lifts me off the cold bathroom floor. Then, she helps me dress into a clean set of pajamas and gives me some water. It’s cool and feels good against my raw throat.

What she says next, though, makes my world unravel around me. “Oh, honey, you don’t have the flu. You’re pregnant, Presley.”