Free Blind Love (Sulfur Heights Series) by M.S. Brannon Page A

top. Being the guy I am, I take a moment to stare at the bottom part of her ass peeking out of her shorts. God, she is so unbelievably hot. I can feel the monster stir in my pants, which is my invitation to get the fuck out before she wakes up.
    As swiftly as possible, I peel my arm out from under her head and flop onto the floor. The loud thud causes me to freeze and look up at Delilah, confirming she’s still asleep. I tip-toe over to the door before taking in another glance of Delilah’s fine body, then make my way down the hall.
    With each step , I find traces of my clothing; my boots and missing sock trail down the hallway. I must have been so drunk last night that I thought I was going to my room when actually I ended up in bed with Delilah.
    I snag a soda from the fridge and trudge downstair s then flop on my bed. I can’t think about last night right now, not with the killer pain throbbing in my skull. I shut my eyes and drift off into a deep sleep, smelling Delilah’s lavender scent all over me.
    ***
    A few hours later, Reggie’s phone call wakes me up. He basically insists that if I don’t go down to the bar and help hang up the new flat screens he will beat the fuck out of me. So I tell him I am on my way and make my way upstairs.
    I need to get some food into my dying stomach. It’s held nothing except whiskey for the last twelve hours. It’s become absolutely dire that I consume something of substance.
    When I arrive to the top of the stairs, Drake is making his usual sandwich and it makes my mouth water. I let out a giant yawn and ask, “Hey, man, what are you doing home so early?”
    That fucker works harder than anyone I ’ve ever known. Even Reggie doesn’t work as hard as Drake does, pulling fourteen to sixteen hour days in a hot, glass box. I would kill myself if I ever had to work that hard.
    “There was a fire at the plant so they sent everyone home for the day.” The sandwich he’s making looks so fucking good, I want to rip it from his hands and devour it myself.
    “That’s cool. Do you want to go down to the bar with me? Reggie is installing new flat screens and wants some help.” I stop drooling long enough to make myself a turkey sandwich then take the biggest bite I can while Drake looks at me like I’m a pig. What else is new?
    “Nah. I’m going to spend some time with Presley this afternoon . It’s been awhile since we’ve hung out by ourselves, especially since Delilah moved in. She seems to spend a lot of time with her during the day.”
    “Okay, I didn’t really need to know you plan on banging your chick all day… seriously, bro. But I am sorry she’s holding out on you, man.” Right there is a prime example of why you don’t get in a committed relationship. Unlike my brother, whenever I’m dying to be with someone, I just walk into The Slab and pick one up; it’s as simple as that. God I love my life. I have no fucking drama when it comes to women and I can be with anyone that I want. It’s awesome.
    “ When I’m home, I hardly see Delilah and Presley together. She always seems to be in your room listening to depressing fucking music.” I’m not sure what’s going on with Presley, but her music is enough to make me want to kill myself. Maybe she’s pissed about me hanging out with Delilah so much. Then again, Presley is never around Delilah. She’s always in her room. Don’t ask me, I don’t have a fucking clue.
    When Drake mentions Delilah’s name I think back to how hot she looked this morning in her little booty shorts. It just about killed me—dead. “Speaking of Delilah, where’s my little cupcake at? I’m in the mood to have a little fun.”
    “Man, why are you always trying to piss her off? She’s going to kick you square in the nuts one of these days.”
    Drake has no fucking clue what’s going on between Delilah and me. Granted , I told her I would lay off the flirty comments and I have, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop winning her