Something hurtful. He flat out didn’t know how to do serious, at least when it came to relationships and especially when it came to women. He might never know.
Instead he focused on the here and now. The fact that he hadn’t come yet and was starting to feel pain, his cock was so hard. He kissed that smile off her face, kissed her deep as he thrust, matching the rhythm, wanting her to lose herself.
Needing to lose himself inside her too. Just for a little bit. Just to help him forget his troubles and his worries. So he could focus on feeling good, on this woman who was becoming more important to him than he realized—than he wanted to realize.
Even if he could never admit it to himself, Delilah was fast becoming important to him—more important than anyone else in his life.
And he didn’t know what to do about it.
Chapter Thirteen
“YOU’RE GLOWING.”
Delilah made no reply, merely smiled in return before she took a sip from her drink.
They were at the Bigfoot Diner for lunch. Harper’s invite had come a little over an hour ago via text. She’d needed a break after implementing new bookkeeping software on the BFD office computer, since she worked with her grandma, handling the accounting duties while her grandma took care of the restaurant. After taking her mom to the lab for those tests, Wren had helped Harper all morning, which sounded like a nightmare job to Delilah. She’d been lucky enough to work on new choreography all morning. For some reason, she was infused with restless energy.
Well, she knew whom to thank—or blame—for that. Having a long, sex-filled night with Lane should’ve left her exhausted, but instead, she felt invigorated, downright hyper.
And that meant she was annoying the crap out of her friends.
Harper and Wren were both looking a little dusty and a lot frazzled as they glowered at Delilah like she’d broken some cardinal rule by appearing at the diner fresh as a daisy and irritatingly cheerful. They sat across from her in a booth in the back of the restaurant, looking like a pair of grumpy old ladies.
“Why are you glowing? And bouncing in your seat?” Harper asked, her gaze shrewd. She didn’t miss a trick, that Harper. Of course, she was in the same boat as Delilah, or perhaps an even better boat, considering she was getting great sex on a regular basis from West.
“She always bounces in her seat,” Wren muttered as she kept her head bent, scanning the menu on the table in front of her. “She’s probably had too much coffee.”
“Nah, it’s more than that.” Harper stared at her. Delilah started to squirm even more. Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to meet them for lunch after all.
“It’s nothing,” she said as she pushed her menu to the end of the table. “And why are you looking at the menu, Wren? You know what you want to order.” She didn’t know why Harper’s grandma had left the menus in the first place.
“I should get a salad. I’ve been feeling fat,” Wren muttered, glaring at her glass of ice water. “I should’ve ordered a root beer.”
“You’re not fat,” Delilah reassured, thankful for the subject change. “Seriously, Wren, you look fabulous. If you’re feeling flabby, come to one of my classes. I’ll dance you back into shape.”
“Please, more like you’ll kill me.” Wren shoved the menu away and leaned against the booth seat, her expression irritable. “You know, Harper’s right. You are glowing. What gives?”
Delilah lightly touched her cheek, wishing she had a mirror. She didn’t look different, did she? Could she have been that transformed by one fantastic night with Lane? No way. No freaking way.
But three orgasms in one night could do a lot to a girl. The man knew how to bring her satisfaction, she’d give him that. He’d worked his damnedest to make sure she had an orgasm every single time too. She could appreciate that. Could appreciate everything Lane had done for her last night and early this morning . . .
She’d left before the sun had come up, sneaking out of bed and slipping back into her clothes as he roused, sitting up so the sheet had pooled around his hips. Looking gorgeous and rumpled and sexy and sleepy.
“Where you goin’?” he’d mumbled as he pushed his hand through his hair.
Her heart had fallen to her toes at the sight of him. She’d wanted to climb back into bed with him and never leave again.
But she’d known she had to leave first. Before he said something awful and ruined the moment. He was an expert at pushing her away too. Running hot and cold, that was Lane. Right now he was on-fire hot, and that was her favorite version of Lane. Though she was scared he’d do something to mess it up. Or worse, break her heart. He was pretty good at that.
In fact, Lane was a total expert when it came to mishandling her heart. No one had ever done a better job.
“I have to go.” She’d kissed him, startling when he wrapped one strong arm around her waist and tried to haul her into the bed with him. She’d resisted, using all of her strength to keep herself upright. “Seriously, Lane. Don’t you have to work today?”
He’d said yes. Tried to kiss her again. Snuck a hand up her shirt, spanked her butt, and done everything he could to make her stick around for one more chance to be with him. But she’d said no. She’d walked out of his house on her own terms, her heart singing a lonely tune the entire drive home.
She’d taken a shower, careful with the tender spots on her body. Then she’d gone to the dance studio and lost herself in the music as she listened to various songs, picking out a few good ones for recitals next year.
She was moving forward with her plans and creating a team to take to regional competitions, something she’d never done before. She’d competed as a teen, and those memories were some of her favorites.