Delilah Green Doesn't Care(Bright Falls #1)(75)

God, this woman made her crazy. She felt wild, unhinged, like a horny teenager chasing her next make-out session.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Claire said when they broke apart.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Another kiss. Another soft moan.

“Better be careful,” Delilah whispered against her mouth, sliding her hands down to Claire’s ample ass. “I’m about to take you right here, right now.”

Claire stiffened and pulled back.

“Calm down. I won’t,” Delilah said.

“That’s not what I . . .” Claire closed her mouth, her eyes searching Delilah’s. “I want to be alone with you.”

Delilah grinned, pressed her mouth to Claire’s neck, growling a little into her skin. “Me too.”

Claire laughed. “Not for that.”

Delilah’s tongue traced a path up to her ear, and Claire sucked in a sharp breath.

“Okay, not only for that,” Claire said. “But I want . . . I want to talk too.”

Delilah pulled back, alarm tightening her stomach. “What about? I won’t tell anyone what we’re doing. I already told you that.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Then what?”

Claire sighed and pressed her forehead against Delilah’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Delilah said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “What is it?”

Claire lifted her head and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. I can tell.”

Claire shook her head. “No really . . . I . . .” Then her brows lifted, just a little. “I want to see that picture. The one you took of me by the river five years ago.”

Delilah’s eyes widened. She had a feeling that’s not at all what Claire actually wanted to talk about, but she let it go. “Really?”

Claire nodded and her arms tightened, hands sliding down Delilah’s back. “Of course I do. You know Iris and I plundered your Instagram, right?”

Heat spilled in Delilah’s cheeks. She still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of anyone other than total strangers roaming through her art.

“I had a feeling,” she said.

Claire frowned. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s just weird.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be. You’re really talented, Delilah. Even Iris likes your work. The way you use light and your angles. I don’t know anything about photography, but your stuff . . . I don’t know. It’s emotional. Angry and sad and empowered. It made me feel something.”

Like any artist, Delilah viewed her own work with a dizzying mix of self-loathing and self-aggrandizement, so Claire’s words nestled like an ember deep in her chest and stayed there, glowing warm and bright.

“Really?” she asked.

“Really,” Claire whispered. “Your pieces at the Whitney are going to be breathtaking.” Then she kissed her softly, slowly. That ember in Delilah’s chest flared, igniting into a full flame. In that moment, Delilah didn’t care about secrets or Josh or Astrid or the way Jax had pulverized her heart or how the idea of showing at the Whitney and still not advancing in her career made her want to curl into a fetal position and suck her thumb. She only cared about this, Claire in her arms, whispering things that made Delilah feel seen for the first time in . . .

Shit.

Maybe this was the first time she’d ever felt this seen. Or, no, not this exact moment, but every tiny moment with Claire since she’d been back in Bright Falls—talking with Claire at the bookstore, lying with her in bed at Blue Lily, listening to her talk about her worries over Josh, telling her about Jax, watching how Claire’s eyes literally sparkled when she talked about Ruby. Hell, even letting the woman unknowingly hit on her at Stella’s.

Then last night, her skin, her body, her touch. Just sex that suddenly felt like anything but.

Delilah leaned into the kiss, trying to shut down her thoughts with her mouth, her tongue, her hands sliding into the back pocket of Claire’s shorts.

It didn’t work. Claire, sighing into her mouth, like she was happy. It all swirled in Delilah’s mind like a hurricane gathering strength. She pulled back, needing air, needing space. Needing to get her head back in this casual sex game.

Claire frowned at her. “You okay?”

Delilah didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Zips echoed through the campsite, followed by Spencer’s booming voice directing Astrid to fill up his water bottle.

“Better get this happiness-ruining going,” Delilah said as she turned away, swallowing around the infuriating thickness in her throat.





Chapter Twenty-Three




SHE’D COME ON too strong. That must be what it was. Delilah could tell that what Claire had really wanted to talk about was them, what this thing between them was, even when they’d already established it was sex, sex, and more sex. Why else would Delilah have pulled away from her like that, gasping for air like Claire was smothering her? She knew this was a mistake. Claire couldn’t do casual, and now Delilah was freaking out and realizing that Claire was starved for love and wanted nothing more than to climb inside Delilah and set up shop.