I look at my watch and realize that I am already ten minutes late. I know Nick is going to be annoyed, so I stop at the café around the corner from our office and pick him up his favorite coffee and a cannoli for good measure. This day so far has been wonderful - I spent time shopping with my best friend buying great new clothes and shoes, I am going to see Nico in two days for another round of mind-blowing sex, and I finally broke my bad Thursday juju – nothing can bring me down.

  I finally get back to the office fifteen minutes later, no biggie. I have never been so much as a minute late before, so if Nick has a problem, he can suck it. Well, not really, that wouldn’t be very professional, but you know what I mean. He can deal with it. I notice that Carmella isn’t at her desk, and that is odd. If she needed to use the restroom, she would have done it during her lunch hour. Nick doesn’t generally like the front desk unmanned. He doesn’t like people getting back into our private wing without going through Carmella first. I take a quick glance around, but don’t see anybody, so I head to my desk and plop down into my chair with a quick huff. I didn’t realize how winded I am simply from hustling back from the café. Maybe I should join Charlie in a run to get my ass back into shape. I am brought back to reality when my phone intercom beeps. Shit!

  “Hey there, Delilah. Can you come into my office, please?” Nicks asks, much more politely than I expect seeing as I am fifteen minutes late getting back from lunch.

  “Sure, no problem,” I respond suspiciously.

  I enter Nick’s office and am surprised to see Carmella sitting in a chair across from Nick’s desk. Why didn’t I see her there when I got to my desk? I notice that she is crying, clutching a tissue in her right hand. All different scenarios are running through my head, and I can’t for the life of me figure out what is going on. All I can think of is that Nick is firing her, but then why would he call me in here? And I know he respects her greatly, and treats her like a mother figure, so that just can’t be it.

  “Nick? What’s going on? Carmella are you all right?” I spit out the questions without waiting for answers.

  I look back and forth between them, but no one is saying anything. I look back to Carmella, and she begins to sob. I swing my head back to Nick, like I am watching a freaking tennis match, and he just looks at me with pity in his eyes.

  “What’s going on here, guys? You are freaking me out. Carmella, you okay?” I ask again, and my question remains unanswered.

  “Why don’t you take a seat, Delilah, and we will explain everything to you,” Nick says rather patiently, his hands threaded tightly together in front of him, white knuckled.

  This is not the Nick I know. He is usually blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t mince words, and he certainly doesn’t “explain” things to people. I slowly plant myself into the twin chair next to Carmella, across from Nick’s expansive desk, never taking my eyes off him. The silence is deafening, and panic begins to set in. All I can hear is Carmella’s quiet hiccupping, her attempt to stop crying.

  “Someone tell me something,” I demand, looking back and forth between them again.

  Nick stands from behind his desk and takes his suit jacket off. He walks toward me and takes a knee at my side. I am distracted momentarily by his gracefulness for such a large man, but then he takes both of my hands in his, and a sole tear escapes my eyes.

  “Delilah, your father called while you were at lunch. He said that he couldn’t get a hold of you. He also said that he tried calling your friend, Charlotte. It’s…your mother… she’s been in a terrible accident,” he says sympathetically, gripping my hands even tighter. All of a sudden Carmella lets out a loud sob, and we both turn toward her as she breaks down, covering her face with both hands. “I am so sorry,” she wails.

  “What? What did he say? Is she okay? I… I was out shopping with her. I guess our phones didn’t have a signal. Nick? Where is she? I need to get to her.” I stand up quickly to rush out to her. I need to get my things and get to the hospital as soon as possible. Oh God, oh God, oh God! She had better be okay. She has to be okay. Please be okay.

  Nick stands just as quickly as I do, refusing to release my hands.

  “Delilah, honey. Look at me.” It takes him asking a few times, until I hear him, thoroughly lost in my own head. When he feels comfortable that I am refocused on him, he utters the worst four words I have heard in my entire life.

  Nick frowns hard. “She didn’t make it. I am so sorry.”

  Everything goes dark. Fucking Thursdays.

  ♫♩♫♩♫♩♫

  And Delilah again…

  The sun is shining so brightly through my window. My head is pounding and my eyes are burning. If this is what a hangover feels like, I don’t ever want to be drunk again. I sit up slowly, but the room is spinning a little. I must be dehydrated from crying so much. Certainly, crying and alcohol are not the best combination. I hold my head in my hands and think about what happened during the last twenty-four hours.

  The last thing I remember is talking to Nick and Carmella, and then everything went dark. I must have passed out in shock. I remember arriving at my parents’ house – now just my dad’s house. How did I get there? Wait, okay, yeah… under Nick’s insistence, Carmella drove me over there. He tried to come along as well, but knowing his schedule, and the important meetings he had that afternoon, I didn’t allow it.

  I remember seeing my dad and running in to his arms, sobbing into his own tear stained shirt. At some point, Charlie arrived, and she just held me as I cried my eyes out. I remember the first glass of wine that she handed me, and then maybe one or two shots. I am starting to wonder if she laced one with a Xanax to calm me down, because I have absolutely no memory of anything after that second shot.

  I raise my arms above my head and arch my back in an attempt to stretch. Ouch, crap! My head is killing me. I twist left, then right, trying to loosen up, and there is a huge gauze-like bandage on my right hip. What the hell? Did I fall and not remember? I drag my hung-over, miserable, depressed ass to the end of the bed and place my feet gently on the floor. Just being cautious in case I fell and sprained or twisted an ankle. Nope, all good.

  I walk to the bathroom with my eyes squinted from the sun and my head pounding. The room starts spinning again and I have to put one hand on the wall so I don’t fall over. I follow the wall all the way there and only let go long enough to get to my sink. I am wearing an old Grateful Dead t-shirt, not what I was wearing when I left for work yesterday morning, but have absolutely no idea how I changed into it. Oh well, not important. I lift the shirt high enough to tuck it under my chin while I examine the bandage on my hip. It is gauze surrounded by surgical tape. Not something a doctor or hospital would do. My curiosity is on high alert as I slowly begin to tear away the bandage, but it just hurts too much. I know what my mom would say, so I prepare myself. I look at the ceiling with my eyes screwed shut and countdown …3…2…1… rip! Holy mother of God! I take a few deep breaths through the pain and tell myself to look down at my hip. But I am hesitant, scared of what I will see. A huge bruise? Nah, wouldn’t be bandaged. A big cut? Hope not, I hate blood.

  I finally suck it up and look down, and then the unexpected happens. I start laughing hysterically. No, not a little ha ha, or a silly hee hee. We are talking full on, no holds barred, from the belly, uncontrollable, rolling on the floor holding your sides, clenching your thighs so you don’t pee in your pants laughter. It is a totally and completely inappropriate reaction, I know, but after what I went through yesterday, if I don’t laugh about this, the alternative is a dark and scary place.

  I briefly wonder what Nico is going to say about this tomorrow. Not that he can “say” anything. And at that thought, my laughter begins again, but now it’s at the screwed up situation I am in: lusting after a man I can’t have, and loving a man I can’t truly know.

  ♫♩♫♩♫♩♫

  Keeping with Delilah…

  I follow Nico down the hallway that leads to his VIP room. He has my hand in his and I can’t help but think how right it feels. I almost cancelled on him tonight. My mother just died two days ago, and I wasn’t sure if I was emotionally ready to do something for myself. But I then thought of those emerald green eyes, and the way I feel when they look at me, and I knew that I had to come to get the affection that I so desperately need right now. He may not know it, but I know he will give me what I need.

  We enter his room and he shuts and locks the door behind us. The music playing over the sound system tonight is a soft classical piano. A definite change from the usual, but I like it just the same. It fits my mood perfectly. Nico, who still has my hand, pulls me closer. His fingers thread into my hair as he leans down and kisses me slowly. The man is delicious and I could kiss him all day long. His hands slide out of my hair and down my back, where they come to rest on my rear end. His big hands grab hold and pull me flush against him. He rolls his hips forward at the same time, letting me know by his large erection rubbing against my stomach, that he is ready to go.

  He usually takes the lead and controls what happens while we are here, but I need control tonight. I just lost my mother – something I could not control – so I need to gain some control back. And I need to do it here, tonight. I slip my hands up to Nico’s chest and shove. He pinwheels back, landing on the bed. He immediately sits up and looks at me with wide bewildered eyes from behind his black mask. I give him what I hope is a sultry, sexy smile and saunter toward him. He watches, his eyes locked on my cleavage. I stop in front of him, he leans forward to stick his face between my tits, but I grab his chin and lift his face to look at me.

  I wag my other finger at him, telling him not to be a bad boy, which makes him give me that panty-melting naughty smirk of his. Ooh, he’s so bad! I mouth the word “Control” to him and point to myself. He raises an uneasy eyebrow at me and shakes his head. I nod, mouth “Or” and point to the door. Sometimes this whole no talking thing is a pain in the ass. Nico narrows his eyes at me, as if he’s not sure if I’m bluffing or not. I stare at him, trying to let him know with my eyes that I am completely serious.

  He finally relents and gives me the go-ahead nod. I don’t plan on doing anything crazy, but I want to be in charge. I push him back onto the bed and lift his arms above his head. I point to them and mouth “Stay.” He nods in agreement. Satisfied, I slowly start to unbutton his shirt. I follow each unbuttoned button with a kiss to his bare skin. I hear him groan low in his throat, and it’s such a sexy sound that a shiver runs down my back. I continue until his shirt is completely open, baring his chiseled-like-a-Greek-God torso. Ryan did not look like this, that’s for sure! This is soooo much better. I smooth my hands down the ridges of his six-pack until I reach his belt. I can see his chest rising and falling a little faster now and I can’t help but smile, knowing that I am the one affecting him this way. Men are so easy.

  I unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. I grab the waistband of his pants and underwear and yank them down his thighs. I giggle when his erection slaps back against his stomach with a smack sound. Nico lifts his head and looks down at me, a sardonic smile lifting his sexy lips, so I keep his pants right above his knees. Nico seems to like to spread his legs wide when I go down on him, so this is just another way for me to control him. He glances down at his pants then looks back at me expectantly. I just give him a sweet smile and bend forward to kiss his exposed hip. He growls at me then drops his head back to the mattress.

  I kiss and lick my way closer to his cock, which keeps twitching every time I accidentally tickle him. His hips are the most ticklish, so I take a moment to lighten the mood and go after his very ticklish hips. He tries to hold it in, he tries so hard, but he just can’t. He bursts out laughing and grabs my head to pull me away. I laugh as I grab his hands and put them back above his head. I give him a pointed look to let him know not to move his hands again. He bites his bottom lip as he tries to stop his laughter, and I can’t get over how sexy he is.

  I stare into his eyes for a moment and he stares into mine. Our smiles fade. Something serious is going on here…between us. This is not just a hook up any more. At least not for me, and I’m pretty sure it isn’t for him, either. We’ve shared so much through our weekly texts that I can honestly say that I do know him, or at least some of him. And I always find out more when we are together, like what areas of his body to touch to really get him revved up, or that he has a birthmark on his knee, or that his eyes darken slightly right before he comes. Somehow, this turned into a serious relationship for me. How did I not see it sooner?

  ♫♩♫♩♫♩♫

  Nick (finally!)

  The emotions in LaLa’s eyes are way too heavy for me. It’s not that I’m not having feelings for her, too, because I am. I can’t deny it. But I don’t want to be dwelling on feelings right now. Right now, I want LaLa to continue whatever she was planning on doing to me. I’m really not ecstatic about letting her take the lead, but she seems to be in rare form tonight - very subdued and somewhat melancholy - so I’m doing as she asks…this one time. I don’t like giving up my control so easily. I do love to make my ladies happy, though, especially LaLa. So, just this once, I will let her think that she is in control, but really, I still am.

  I lift my head so that I can capture those luscious lips of hers. LaLa’s eyes flutter closed as she melts into the kiss. Her fingers lace through mine as I deepen the kiss. I want to roll over and get her under me so badly, but I resist. She, for whatever reason, needs to feel in charge, so I squash my urge to put her under me.

  She drags her lips down my chin and over my neck. Her hands slip out of mine, tracing down my arms as her whole body works its way south. She stops at my nipples, giving each a nibble and lick before continuing on her journey. I tuck my hands behind my head and lift so that I can watch her. Her silky dark hair is dusting my skin as she goes; the sensation is erotic and sensual. She bites my hip, not hard, but enough that I jump. She glances up at me, one side of her beautiful mouth curled up, her hazel eyes dark with desire. Shit, a man could get lost in those eyes. They remind me so much of Delilah’s eyes. No! No thinking about Delilah, damn it! Ugh, why does that happen every time I’m with LaLa?

  My thoughts are thankfully interrupted when LaLa’s flat tongue licks a line from the base of my cock straight to the tip. All the air whooshes out of my lungs and I have to gasp to pull more back in. I look down at her, her emerald green mask making her eyes the main focus of her face, but all I can see at the moment is her mouth. It is doing incredible things to my cock, and she hasn’t even put it completely into her mouth yet.

  I drop my head back to the bed and close my eyes. I feel one of her hands smooth over my hip while the other cups my balls. Her tongue flicks over the sensitive area on the underside of the head, right where my shaft and head meet, making me moan. I love it when she does that. What I hate at the moment is my fucking pants. I need them off. I remove my hands from behind my head and start to reach for my pants to shove them down past my knees, but someone gives my balls a squeeze. I yelp at the small shot of pain that shoots through me. I gape down at her. She glances at my hands, which are just touching the waistband of my pants before turning her dagger glare to mine. Holy shit, she’s serious about this control thing. I slowly remove my hands, making a show of surrender, putting them back behind my head. Seeming to have appeased her, she makes up for hurting me by sucking one of my boys into her mouth.

  LaLa is slowly torturing me. I swear she’s trying to kill me. She’s done everything but take my cock into her mouth and she’s been down there for at least ten minutes. I’m dying here. I am on the verge of stopping her teasing when she finally wraps her mouth around me and pulls me in deep. I moan loudly as my hips surge up on their own accord. She moans, her mouth vibrating around me, making my eyes roll back into my head. I never thought being teased for so long could make the actual blowjob better. She always gives good head, but this is indescribable.

  She has me on the edge within minutes. I’m so caught up in what she’s doing with her mouth that I barely notice that the hand she had cupping my balls has moved down, and her finger is now rubbing around my…you know…that hole…the one that is an exit only. My heart stammers nervously. What the hell is she doing? She’s not going to stick her finger in there, is she?

  That’s as much as I get to think about it because she then does her suck and swirl thing with her mouth and I lose it. I cry out through gritted teeth as she lets me come in her mouth this time. I grasp at the sheet as I buck under her. My orgasm seems to go on forever and LaLa is right there riding it out, sucking me hard. A guttural shout escapes me and I’m pretty sure I black out because the next thing I know, she is laying next to me on her stomach, her head resting on her folded arms, smiling at me.

  I’m panting so hard that you would have thought that I just ran a marathon. Holy mind-blowing orgasm! That was incredible – no, beyond incredible. I must return the favor. I kick my shoes, pants, and underwear off, tear off my shirt then grab her. She laughs as I yank her clothes off and toss them to the floor.

  She’s finally naked and lying on her back. I’m kneeling between her legs just admiring her gorgeous figure. Her perfect tits, soft skin, flared hips, tattoo…whoa, wait! When did that get there? I frown in confusion and point to it. I look at her for an answer, but she just smiles and waves a dismissive hand. There is something about her smile, though, that is a little off; it’s sad, and there is something close to devastation in her eyes for just a second before she covers it up. I narrow my eyes at her. She doesn’t give me any more time to think about it because she reaches up, grabs the back of my neck, and pulls me down into a passionate kiss that has me forgetting everything but her.