This Love Hurts (This Love Hurts 1)

With his hand still firmly over my eyes, my back against the unforgivingly hard appliance and Marcus’s grip digging into my hip, I stand there breathless, nearly shaking.

His teeth rake down the side of my neck and a gasp escapes me. True want and need roll through my body.

Shocked and breathless, attempting to cope with my own reaction, I stand there helpless just as I am, listening to him leave with haste and without a single word. I can still feel every inch of him: his heat, his demanding touch, and the all-consuming kiss.

It was only a kiss. If I tell myself that enough, one day I may believe it.

Delilah

I wasn’t in my right mind. I haven’t been. The haze of whatever came over me, the sleeplessness and the reckless, wild thoughts, all vanish once my skin chills and the reality slams into me like a car without brakes.

I wasn’t in my right mind. I couldn’t have been.

It’s all I can think as my hands shake at my sides. I’ve been staring at the cup of coffee on the counter as if it’s the coffee’s fault. Maybe it was drugged or poisoned. Because there’s no way in hell that I just kissed a serial killer and felt anything other than disgust.

My mind is playing tricks on me.

The thought has my trembling fingers barely brushing along my bottom lip, where the kiss still sears my skin.

The creak of the front door opening forces a silent gasp from me as my wide eyes stare at the kitchen threshold. My body’s so stiff, I can’t do a damn thing but stare with bated breath. I only exhale when I hear my name called out by a familiar voice.

“Delilah.” Cody says my name and as it echoes, I grip my right hand with my left to keep it from shaking as much as it is. Eyes closed and head down, I tell myself over and over: It’s just Cody. Cody’s here.

Oh thank God.

“Here,” I say. My own voice contains tremors and I clear my throat. “I’m in here,” I try to speak loud enough for him to hear me, but my voice falls, and my gaze turns toward the back of the house, in the direction Marcus left. I heard the door close. He’s gone. I know he’s gone. But how the fuck did he get in?

With confusion swirling in my mind, the tension and the disbelief still at war inside of me, I don’t know what to do or say. The front door closes with a resounding click and heavy footsteps come fast toward me, getting louder until I can see Cody’s foreboding figure in my periphery, the shadow of a man who I’ve desperately missed. His scent wraps around me in a comforting way, but it can’t penetrate the strong feeling that engulfs every thought and emotion that rampage inside of me, wanting to scream, to do something!

Marcus was here. He kissed me. A serial killer was just here and I let him walk away.

“Gun, gun,” I sputter out the word and keep staring down the long hall. “Marcus was here,” I say although I don’t know how I get the words out. “He was just here.” With my trembling hand I reach out to Cody, but it’s useless. It’s his strong back that greets me, pinning me against the counter. The marble digs into my lower back as I try to breathe, to get a grip on the here and now.

The sight of Marcus shrouded in darkness in the corner, my name on his lips…

“He’s gone.” I push out the words. “I heard the door shut and he said he was leaving. He’s gone but he was just here.”

“Which way did he go?” Cody questions with his back still facing me.

“He’s gone,” is all I can say and again I reach out, my fingernails digging into Cody’s strong frame and my cheek slowly resting against the black leather of his jacket. I take in his warmth, his broad shoulders, his height and I try to cling to all of it. I try to reach normalcy again. The mindset I had before Marcus broke in and shattered my sanity.

Cody tries to move, to do something, presumably sweep the place, but I don’t care what. I need him here. I need him close to me. “Stay. Please, please.” I have to swallow the harsh ball that lingers at the back of my tongue. “Please don’t move.” My plea is a whisper and I feel myself losing it. He can’t move. I just… I just need a moment.

“What did he do to you?” The question holds an air of its own darkness, a threat of what Cody would do to him. Cody turns ever so slightly to face me but still his eyes keep hold of the back hallway.