Page 37 of Violent Little Thing

Kiss Me Fool

DELILAH

I don’t know what first kisses are made of. Or how they’re supposed to feel.

But if I had to guess, the kiss I’m experiencing right now would be a good example in anybody’s book.

A gradual consumption.

A slow devouring.

A meticulous unstitching of everything I knew before he put his mouth on mine.

It’s this overflow of longing, desperation and frustration. All my walls collapsing in on themselves while he breaks me apart and puts me back together. With his tongue. His lips. His kiss .

Right now, I don’t know how to be anything other than the mess he’s made of me. I don’t know how to do anything but sustain myself on his kisses. His silent promises and loud breathing. His soft licks and unyielding embrace.

He has me wrapped up in him so tight it feels like his arms are exactly where I’m supposed to be .

It’s all spellbinding.

Too much. Too much. Too much.

Why does kissing the man I hate feel so damn good?

“You don’t hate me, Delilah.”

His whispered words pull me out of my head. Out of my haze. I trace my eyes over his face, wondering how he just read my mind when all he does is smirk.

“You were saying it. In between kisses.” He smiles and another flood of emotions hits me without warning.

Adonis is beautiful enough on his own, but adding a genuine smile to his already perfect features feels unfair.

It’s a smile I’ve seen in the moments between our bickering. It feels intimate. It is. His smile feels like home. Like every night we’ve spent at the piano and every dinner he’s made me share with him.

Smooth fingers stroke my chin and move up as he whispers, “I’m sorry for lying to you.”

“I don’t care.” Lie . A blatant one he calls me out on right away.

“It upsets you because you care, menace.” He’s not asking me but telling me. And it’s the truth. I care about this man. So, so deeply. And I wish I didn’t.

“I know it doesn’t change anything, but we’re not engaged. We’re supposed to be, but…” His voice trails, and he shakes his head. “All I’m saying is that I didn’t cheat on her by falling in love with you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Engaged or not, they’re still destined to end up together. My indignation over that fact doesn’t let me linger on his tortured confession.

“No.” His forehead is at my temple. “But I still want you to know.”

“I hate this,” I whisper as a fresh wave of tears makes me turn away from him. “Why did you keep me? Why did you make me like you when you knew it was going to be like this? It’s so selfish, Adonis.” I shove at his chest. “You’re so selfish.”

The strength of my ire is no match for the wall of muscle shielding his body. He’s immovable while I stand there, hitting him. Hating him.

I don’t stop until my shoulders burn from swinging lopsided blows at him.

His smile turns sad, and he gathers me close, holding me as my heart slows from racing to an acceptable thrum.

Then he looks at me, locs falling into his face and longing etched across his features.

“You killed someone?” In retrospect, shooting Percy in the kneecap doesn’t seem so bad. But his blood is splattered along the skirt of my dress, and I would forever have beef with him for that.

“Yes.” He answers me like I just asked him if he wanted sugar in his coffee. The absence of remorse on his face pushes me to ask another question.

“Who?”

“The men you were supposed to marry.” His hand finds my hair again before moving down to cradle the side of my face. “All except one.”

All my thoughts are out of order. It’s him touching me, staring at me like he doesn’t want to look away and the conviction in his voice.

I’m so fucking easy when it comes to his unhinged behavior, it’s embarrassing.

Because I don’t want him to stop touching me and I want to hear exactly how those men died. But first, “How did you know?”

“I have my ways. Nothing about you added up, so I didn’t stop until I understood.

” His lips seek mine out for a chaste kiss before his forehead finds mine again.

“Those cameras your father had in that house didn’t show me everything, but it was enough .

And I want you to know that nobody will ever hurt you like that again. ”

A shudder works through me. “I didn’t need you to save me,” I whisper. I’d already saved myself. Over and over. Had he seen that too? Me fighting back when I couldn’t stand up? Me fighting back while they stood there laughing at my pain?

“I know, baby.” He wraps his arm around my torso and drops his head to my shoulder. His voice is ragged. “You have no idea what I would do for you, Delilah. What I’ve already done for you.”

His fingertips trace over my tears.

“I don’t care if you hate me because at least you feel something for me. But you will never cry because of me again, Delilah.” He lifts his head to kiss the spot on my cheek where my tears used to be. “You understand me?”

“Yes.”

Almost reverently, he holds my face between his hands and stares at me without blinking. “I mean it. Never again.”

Victor’s is the first face I see when Adonis opens the door a while later, but that ends when Silas closes in on us, showing up out of thin air.

“What the hell was that?” All his energy is aimed at Adonis, and I watch with amusement at their interaction.

Adonis might say none of the people at this gala are his friends, but he wasn’t talking about Silas. No other person would feel comfortable enough getting in his face and Silas looks unfazed by the brutal slant of his brows and hard set of his jaw .

Turning away from them, I note the empty hall and take time to study my dress now that we’re out of the tight confines of that room. The stain of Percy’s spilled blood is more fascinating than anything else and I’m just happy none of it got on my skin.

Silas and Adonis’ bickering interrupts what I’m about to say to Victor.

“What I know is I just saw you carry my patient upside down after you shot somebody in front of her.”

An angry vein protrudes in the center of Silas’ forehead. My lips tilt.

“Jesus.” Adonis utters a string of curses under his breath and turns to me. “Delilah, tell Silas you’re okay so he can stop having a fucking panic attack.”

“I’m okay, Silas.”

He cocks his head to do a visual inspection of me, getting closer to check my pupils. “Are you sure?” he asks, standing upright.

“Yeah.” I nod. Honestly, I’m exhausted. Wrung out, physically but especially emotionally. The only thing I want is to get in bed and let my mind and body rest.

Reading my mind, Adonis tells Victor to get the car.

“Oh, and Victor?”

“Yes, Mr. Samson?”

“Get this back to Percy, I’m sure he’ll need it.” He extends the reassembled gun I didn’t realize he picked up and hands it over to Victor.

“Yes, sir,” is all the older man says.

Then he’s gone, headed for the staircase while the chaos of tonight’s events hums through me.

“You leaving?” A new voice calls out and my head snaps in that direction.

All I see is two of Silas. But while Silas is wearing a black tuxedo, his doppelg?nger has on slate grey with red accents to match the upside down rose on his lapel.

The new addition turns to me after greeting Adonis and nods without a word.

My eyes ping pong between them, settling on the kind eyes I know instead of the cool pair attached to the new man. “You’re twins?” I ask Silas.

“Fraternal,” he interjects, lines appearing on his forehead to match his offended frown. “But yes, we shared a womb.”

Silas’ brother doesn’t add anything to the twin comment.

“Alonzo Kendrick,” his twin says before I can ask for his name. He accepts my proffered hand with a sideways glance at Adonis before brushing his lips over my knuckles. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Delilah.”

I barely get to enjoy his dramatic show of chivalry before Adonis growls.

“Keep your fucking mouth to yourself.”