Doing Him Good (The Very Good Boy Duet Book 2) Page 4

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I grit out.

  “Please!” Delilah tightens her thighs around my hips, grips me, and pulls me until I’m sunk all the way to the hilt. She winces again, squeezing her eyes closed.

  “Fuck!”

  Her toned legs are even stronger than I imagined. Either that or her pussy has made me weak.

  She opens her eyes and a sweet, sultry smile spreads across her face. “See, cowboy? I’m fine. Wasn’t even that bad.”

  I kiss her again, enjoying the feeling of pulling out slowly and pushing back in again.

  “Damn. Damn, damn, damn, damn,” I repeat as I continue pushing in and sliding out again. Why did I wait so long to do this with a woman? If I had known, if I had only known.”

  “I know the feeling,” she breathes, gripping me even tighter.

  “Hold on, baby,” I say, suddenly overcome by the urge to thrust in deep. I circle her hips with one arm and lift her ass off the bed, the angle helping me plunge deeper and faster as I hold her tight to me. Delilah answers me with the rocking of her hips in tandem with my thrusts, her pussy pulling me in, warming me, and then clenching around my length as I slide out. Our bodies crash together in an even, satisfying rhythm that’s pretty respectable for a couple of newbies. The way she’s looking up at me, with her open mouth ready and waiting to be kissed and her hooded, blissed out eyes, strengthens this feeling inside me that she’s mine.

  Her sexy moans and pants are enough to make my cock explode inside her. But some intangible connection is also present between us, solidifying the feeling in me that this is way more than a one-time thing. This is way bigger than just losing our V-cards.

  “Delilah. Such a sweet girl. Beautiful,” I whisper before taking another taste of her mouth.

  “Boone,” she moans.

  I love her thighs wrapped around me, and I can’t get enough of her hands traveling over my chest. Her nails digging into my skin. My name in her mouth, her expressions, and the intensity of her eyes locked on mine. The tingle at the base of my spine signals my release is imminent.

  “Baby, I’m gonna come.”

  She clenches around me hard as hell when the explosion hits me. “Oh fuck! Oh baby. Holy shit.” Every dirty word explodes out of my mouth at the same time as my seed jets out of my body in hot bursts.

  We hold each other tight until the waves subside. I tumble onto my back, taking her with me so she’s lying on top of me.

  As we both gasp for breath, I clench my fingers in her mass of hair and pull her to me for a deep, satisfying kiss.

  “You,” I say, trying to catch my breath, “are unbelievable.”

  Her sweet face nestled against my neck as I hold her tight, she squeaks, “Right back at ya.”

  A relieved chuckle escapes me. “I’m so happy you said that. Because, I hope you don’t mind, I’d like to stay longer and do some more of that.”

  Chapter Six

  Boone

  I lazily swipe my hand over Delilah’s leg while I feed her grapes, the only sustenance I could find in her mini fridge. We both woke up starving after our nap. Both of us are as naked as the day we were born, sitting together on her now rumpled bed.

  Delilah gathered a stack of pillows from the closet, something we hadn’t bothered with when we fell into bed together several hours and several condoms ago. She lounges against them with one arm, her black and purple hair wild around her head. She looks like the modern representation of a reclining goddess in a painting.

  I hold out one grape and she takes it in her mouth, making sure to lick the tip of my finger while making eye contact with me. She smiles while she watches me taste the end of my finger that she just sucked on.

  One of her legs lies on top of the bedsheets. I spread my hand along its curves, tracing the outline of a skull with my thumb. The skull holds the thorny stem of a red rose in its teeth.

  “I like your tattoos,” I say.

  “Thanks. Do you have any?”

  I grin at her and slide another grape into her mouth. “I think you would have noticed by now.”

  She arches one sassy eyebrow at me and leans into me, her naked breasts dangling so her nipples brush against my bicep. The touch of them against my skin makes my cock jerk once again while a growl forms in my throat.

  “I don’t know if I’ve seen every inch of you. Your ass, for one thing, is still a mystery.”

  I roll over. “See for yourself. See? No tattoos.”

  She huffs. “All right, all right. Get back over here and feed me some more grapes.”

  I laugh and pull her in against me so we’re both leaning against the pile of pillows, her head nestled in the crook of my shoulder. I love lying here with her like this. From this position I can smell the top of her head, press my skin against hers, and see all of her nakedness to examine every curve that I love to touch.

  I run my hand along the ink on her upper arm, a design that looks like a golden snake wound around it.

  “Let’s go get one together. You know, to commemorate this occasion.”

  Delilah chews thoughtfully. “You want to go get a tattoo to celebrate losing your virginity?”

  “Among other things, like finding myself, my first felony, finding you. That’s something to commemorate every year, don’t you think?”

  Her deep crimson blush so sexy I want to start all our lovemaking all over again.

  “I wish I could but I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, I have somewhere to be tonight, and where it is, a recent tattoo is considered an open wound, which would disqualify me. It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just bad timing.”

  “It’s OK, I get it,” I say.

  “No, I don’t think you do,” she says. “I really do have a thing tonight. But you can come with me if you want.”

  My heart skips a beat. That’s when I know for sure this is about more than sex, for the both of us. Maybe our mutual horniness brought us here, and I’m good with that. But the fact that we both clearly want to spend more time together wipes away any lingering doubts. We’re both feeling the same connection that’s going to move us forward.

  I just really like spending time with her and I don’t want to be away from her for even a second. Is that too eager? I don’t care.

  Smiling down at her, I kiss her on the nose and say, “As if you could keep me away.”

  Delilah’s nose crinkles and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen up to this point in my life. Cat videos are pretty great. I like baby sloths a great deal. Some of my sister’s dogs are pretty cool. But nothing is as cute as Delilah reacting to me kissing her on the nose.

  “Well, you might not like it. Do you want me to tell you what it is before you decide?”

  I shrug. “Surprise me.”

  She grins and bites her lip. “OK.” She starts to slide off the bed but I grab her around her waist and pull her back into my chest, kissing her all over her shoulders and upper back. Sighing, she says, “Hmm, I’d love to stay in bed, but I have to shower and get ready.”

  “Already?”

  “Oh god, your kisses are going to be the death of me…or at least get me kicked off the team.”

  “Team, huh? I’m intrigued. Slow pitch softball?”

  She giggles. “Not even close. But it takes a while to get ready. Shower, hair, makeup, team meeting, and warmups.”

  I trace my hand up her ribcage and cup her breast. She sighs. My other hand dips down toward her pussy and she whimpers, “Not fair.”

  I love the effect my hands have on her, and I hate that I’m torturing her—kind of. “All right, but I’m showering with you.”

  She gets up out of bed, the late afternoon light shining in through the window blinds making designs across her luscious hills and valleys. I reach out my hand to caress the curve of her hip and explore the dip of her waist.

  “What’s the point? You’ll just be changing back into your dirty clothes.”

  “Getting
clean is hardly the point.”

  I follow her to the bathroom where she turns on the hot water, speaking to me over her shoulder.

  “Yes, but if I let you shower with me, you’re going to make me late. If you want to go home and change, I can meet you at the arena.”

  “I can’t do that,” I say.

  “Why not?”

  “Because last time you looked outside, your car was not back yet. Your Oma still has your car, so you need me to drive you to this thing.”

  “Oh shit, you’re right. I’m sorry,” she says.

  “Don’t be sorry, baby. I get to watch you shower and keep your scent on me all night.”

  Delilah’s head dips down and a pink flush creeps up her neck. “How can you be so sweet and so dirty at the same time?”

  “No idea. I guess you bring it out of me.”

  “You really want to watch me shower, go right ahead.”

  Chapter Seven

  Delilah

  Boone’s voice stops me when I go to close the frosted shower door. “Leave it open.”

  Pausing, I cast him a puzzled look. Reading my mind, he says, “I’ll clean up the water if it gets on the floor. I mean it, I want to watch you shower, if that’s all right with you.”

  Saying nothing, I step under the warm spray, wetting my hair and letting the water cascade down my body. I wash my hair and apply conditioner, leaving it in while I clean my body. The lather from my jasmine-scented soap covers my limbs and abdomen as I rub my cotton washcloth all over me.

  A low growl makes me glance over my shoulder. Boone leans on the door jamb of the bathroom, his long frame filling the void. His eyes are trained on me like it’s his mission to watch my every move.

  I shave, rinse off the soap and conditioner, and marvel at the fact that I’m not in the least bit embarrassed by his gaze.

  Once I’m out of the shower and towel dried, I let him take my moisturizer and rub it into my arms and legs while I sit on the edge of the tub, wrapped in a towel. While he tends to me, I ask him what really happened to make him freak out, as he said.

  He winces but keeps rubbing the moisturizer into my arms. It’s not an expert massage but he’s trying, and it’s so sweet it squeezes my heart.

  “I don’t know. I think I should have known better than to take the job in the first place, and the church should have known better than to choose someone so young and untested to be the leader of something that big. Going back even further, maybe my dad never should have filmed me as a child, imitating the fiery sermons he used to preach to the small groups that met in our living room on Sunday nights. All I ever did was parrot everything he said. And my mother definitely should never have emailed those videos to all her friends. I certainly never should have been invited to guest preach at a church at the age of twelve. Nobody should have offered me a book deal at the age of seventeen. I thought I was making a difference in the homeless community for a while there, but then this job came along, and my parents encouraged me to take it. I guess you could say I realized last week I was groomed for that life, and I snapped.”

  I watch him lovingly rub lotion into my legs. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

  “Excuse me?” He looks up at me briefly.

  “Just the part that you had this sudden realization. You know as well as I do, that shit had to be building up for a while,” I say.

  Boone pauses his leg massage and looks at me hard for a moment. “Maybe.”

  I wait to see if he’s going to reveal any more, but he doesn’t. And I don’t want to push.

  “So what’s your story?”

  I stretch out my toes and rub some lotion into my elbows. “There’s not nearly as much to tell. I’m ten years younger than you, old man.”

  He shakes his head and says something about how I’m asking to get spanked later.

  I ignore the thrill that descends over me and remind myself that he opened up to me, and now it’s my turn.

  “I did OK in school, but I never figured out what I wanted to do. I’ve worked retail jobs, restaurant jobs, whatever I could find. Right now I work in email-based customer service for different internet companies. It pays the bills, somewhat. Last year I decided to go to community college, and I’m on my way to earning a degree in counseling. I think I’d like to be a child psychologist one day.”

  Boone has stopped massaging me now and is simply squatting on the floor, looking at me.

  I glance around the room but his eyes seem to command me to look back at him.

  “What?”

  “I can see it,” he says. “You’d be great at that. I think you’d be great with kids.”

  Something tells me he doesn’t just mean professionally. Something in his eyes tells me he’d like to help me make great-grandbabies for Oma.

  I awkwardly tell him thank you and get up to dry my hair, grateful for the temporary noise. I don’t think I can take much more talking. Talking makes me like him more and more. After all, he’s made a living so far by his preaching, so it’s no wonder that his voice has a way of making me feel cared for, and connected to him. Any more talking and I might just fall for him very hard.

  Would that be a bad thing?

  Not necessarily, but I’m not so sure he’s feeling the same things.

  “Let me guess. You’re in the ballet,” he guesses while he watches me dress in my Big D Energy tee-shirt, spanky pants and flouncy tennis-style skirt.

  “Really?”

  He keeps it up and has me cackling while I’m trying to put on makeup.

  “Burlesque? Jehovah’s Witness?”

  My shoulders shake while I try to apply my fake eyelashes. “Stop it, you’re going to make me laugh and injure myself.”

  When I’m finally ready, he spreads out his arms and folds me into him. I can’t help but melt and have half a mind to climb him like a tree and start making out again. “I don’t know what this is, but you look fuckin’ hot.”

  The mouth on this preacher. I beam at him. “All right, then. Let’s go before you mess up my lipstick.”

  Chapter Eight

  Boone

  We arrive at the arena and park by the back entrance, with me purposely averting my eyes from the LED display advertising the evening’s event.

  I follow Delilah inside and down a long corridor, with me carrying her gear pack, which, as far as I can tell, holds a helmet. Not sure what else, but it’s heavy. I’m tempted to shake it around like a kid poking at his Christmas presents, but I restrain myself.

  We arrive at a door and she turns to me. “Team meeting is in there. This is going to ruin the surprise, so you can come in or you can wait in the arena.” She motions down the hall toward a set of double doors.

  “I’ll skip the meeting. I’ll go out there and wait to see what happens.”

  She presses a pass into my hands, attached to a lanyard. “Wear this and sit in the front row. Nobody will hassle you. See you soon!”

  I wish her luck and lay a deep, sensuous kiss on her that forces open the door behind her.

  Upon seeing the two of us kissing, people inside the room whoop and holler.

  “ChopHer Head is here! We can finally start!”

  “Oooh, who’s that big boy?”

  “Tall drink of water!”

  “Aww, Delilah, did you find your Samson?”

  I politely nod and wave. “Ladies,” I say, a tad deeper than necessary. More whistles and catcalls as the door slams shut. I laugh as I make my way to the auditorium and find my seat.

  Whatever this is, it’s going to be good.

  The crowd is rowdy, a little tipsy, but in general pretty cool and fun. I scan the crowd behind me, then swivel around again when an announcer’s voice booms over the loudspeaker and the room is overwhelmed with the screaming guitar of psychobilly music.

  The crowd jumps to its feet, shouting, clapping, whistling and shouting.

  The announcer’s voice booms once again. “Let’s give a big welcome to the visitors, the
Fort Worth Firestarters!”

  Most of the crowd explodes in boos.

  Through the doors to the right, a group of women in white and black uniforms and helmets skates in, waving to the crowd.

  Holy shit.

  Delilah is a roller derby chick.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  The announcer gets through introducing the visiting team with a list of amusing names, then pumps the crowd up for the Big D Energy.

  The names are insane, corny, hilarious, and sometimes confusing. But all of it is amusing and the biggest damn turn on I’ve ever experienced.

  “Smashly Simpson!”

  “ChopHer Head!”

  “Hell-enor Hoe-sevelt!”

  “Barbed Wire”

  “Apoca-Lipps!”

  “Little Lucifer!”

  As the bout begins, I’m transfixed. I watch my girl skate around the track like a maniac. She’s not the smallest one, but she’s the fastest. And in my opinion, the sexiest goddamn thing on wheels.

  I have no idea what’s happening. All I see are clusters of women, all wearing knee pads, helmets, and elbow pads, trying to push past each other. There are penalties for lots of things, there seem to be points earned, but I can’t figure out exactly how.

  I feel a tug on my shirt. “Sir, you’re blocking everyone’s view.”

  I swivel around and realize everyone else is sitting and I’m just standing here, totally amped up like a dope.

  Then I look down and see who it is.

  My eyes go wide. “Louisa. Ma’am. Nice…nice to see you.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “I’ve been trying to call my granddaughter all day. Has she been with you?”

  There’s no point in hiding it. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Louisa purses her lips. “Well, it’s a good thing I got home OK. I just wanted to let her know we all decided to come to the brawl tonight. I wanted to give her her car back and give her the third degree about what happened this morning after she left me at church.”

  “All due respect, ma’am, you told her to leave with me.”