Delphine’s heels click against the marble floors of her apartment building lobby. No one knows how to strike a perfect balance between classy and sexy like she does—a simple black pump becomes infinitely sexier when on her delicate, arched feet. The belted dress she wears hugs her figure just right, accentuating her hips and stopping a couple inches past her knees. The view from the back is enough to make my mouth water.
As she steps onto the elevator, so do I. The doors roll close before she can even protest.
Loathing pinches her features. “I told you to leave me alone.”
“That explains why you didn’t answer my call.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“You can never be too busy to answer my call.”
“I’ll block your calls if I want to,” she snaps.
“Speaking of blocked.” I move closer, planting a hand on either side of her. Right away her fragrance clouds my brain. Light, sweet, powdery notes that rise from her skin and make me hard. I inhale a ragged breath, tempted to tear her dress off of her. Public elevator be damned.
“Salvatore,” she whispers. “I want nothing to do with you.”
“It’s a little late for that, Phi.” I trace fingers along the curve of her cheek only for her to turn her head away.
The elevator dings reaching her floor. She rushes off and I follow. She walks a pace ahead of me. Not once does she glance over her shoulder. Not once does she acknowledge my presence in any way.
Instead, she strides to her apartment door as if she isn’t hot and bothered I’m a few steps behind. I enter her apartment to find she’s already heading for her bedroom.
“I told you I’m busy,” she says as she walks fast.
“Is that your way of telling me you’re going out tonight?”
She reaches behind herself and begins unzipping her dress, letting it fall at its leisure. I watch firsthand as the stretch fabric slinks down the curves of her body. Once it drops to the floor, she steps out of it in nothing but a lacy bra and panty set.
In that moment, she looks so fucking sexy, I’m struck speechless.
Rarely, am I ever struck speechless.
And the worst part is, Delphine knows what she’s doing—she tosses a look back at me from over her shoulder, a rebellious glint in her gaze.
“For the last time, I’m busy,” she says calmly. Her hands creep up behind her again. This time to unclasp her bra. “If you want to stay, you’re going to watch me get ready. I’m not stopping on account of you.”
Words become difficult. As in the actual function of speaking them.What the fuck is going on where this would happen to someone like me?
I swallow against the pulse throbbing hard in my neck. My skin is hot all over. “Where are you going?”
“A first date.”
My jaw clenches on its own accord, my voice even tighter. “With who?”
The bra falls away, leaving Delphine in nothing but her lacy panty. Her round ass cheeks call to me even as she turns and walks to the closet.
“No one you would know,” she answers from inside.
If I didn’t know any better, she’s enjoying this—the cool indifference of playing hard to get. Either that or she’s transcended a new level of hatred for me. If I were to ask her, she’d claim the latter.
She emerges from the closet clutching the dress she plans to wear. My gaze rakes over her body, openly drinking in her exquisite, naked curves.
Her pert, beaded breasts. Her round, fat ass. The slim torso of hers I’ve kissed my way up and down dozens of times. The soft thighs I’ve felt wrapped around me. Every part of her body is as erotic and pleasing as the next.
Fury spikes through me when I think about tonight. Delphine is going to be having dinner, presumably at some nice restaurant, with a man other than me.
A man who she’s slipping on a slinky dress for.
In the past I’ve tolerated Delphine dating other men. My hand had been forced—Delphine wanted nothing to do with me and I was reassigned to South Valley.
But I always kept an eye on her. I made sure none of her boyfriends ever got too far along with her. The exception being her fiancé, Garrett. It had required more money to drive him away.
Now that I’ve had Delphine again, I can’t let her go. I’ve tried to stay away and I’ve failed. No other man should be touching her except me.
Delphine stops in front of the mirror and checks out the dress she’s wearing from multiple angles. It’s what most refer to as a sexy little black dress, skintight and backless.
My hands ball into fists at my sides. “That dress is too much for a first date.”
“I’m not asking for your opinion, Salvatore.”
“He’s not laying a finger on you.”
She snorts, sliding into her strappy heels. “If I do have sex with him, I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.”
She’s bullshitting. Delphine has never slept with a man on the first date. I’ve monitored her dating history close enough to be certain of this. She’s very particular, very easily put off by most men.
But she’s also been on a recent crusade to be as reckless and troublesome as possible. Who’s to say she wouldn’t fuck her date tonight if it meant pissing me off?
“I’m running late,” she says, applying lipstick. She glances at me in the mirror. “You need to stop coming by. I mean it.”
“I had something important to discuss with you.”
“There’s nothing for us to discuss.”
As she tries to walk past me, I catch her arm to hold her back. “It’s about your father.”
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say about my father.”
Delphine wrenches her arm free of me and keeps going until the front door thuds shut.
She just had the audacity to walk out on me.
In her own fucking apartment.