Evan and Delilah | 18+

Chapter 3: Delilah

A/N: Mature content (bxg from here out).

Before my dad died, he told me I was the most infuriatingly stubborn person he'd ever known.

I told him it was his fault, flipped him a middle finger, and air kissed his pathetic ass goodbye.

Growing up, I was my school's anti-bully bully. Even in elementary school, I despised bigger kids who picked on anyone who was smaller, meeker, quieter, and fuck-forbid different.

My ass was in detention and the Principal's Office more than I was in class until I was yanked out of high school for an 'alternative intervention' GED program. Yet, even when we took the drive of shame home after I was expelled too many times my freshman year, Dad sat silently behind the wheel. He had no argument against the fact I'd stood up against social injustice, just the particular methods I employed.

I like to hope I've gotten better at channeling my anger, or at least gotten more creative.

While I sure wanted my fist punched into Arrogant Ass' chiseled jaw or my knee rammed up into his half bricked-up erection, this job was literally the only aspect of my life that I got out of bed since I'd been unfairly fired from the last one. So, I buried that inner rage deep inside, where it simmered and festered in a dull heat in my stomach, and led him back to the changing rooms under the pure stupidity that he was actually interested in a leather G-string.

He probably won't even try it on.

I flipped back one of the privacy curtains and the overhead metal rings screeched along the overhead curtain rod. After I stepped inside, I hung up the chili chokers on a hanger rack, turned, and smacked my face right into a hard wall of muscles.

"Ugh," I grunted out as a small burst of pain nipped at the tip of my nose, my head snapped up, and my feet stumbled a half of a step backwards.

Two warm, large palms cupped onto my elbows, accompanied with long fingers that wrapped around my upper arms and seared heat into my bare skin. I steadied my hands on a soft, light gray wall that pulsed with warm beats. A couple eye blinks later, I realized Arrogant Ass' hands had -

"Evan," his voice murmured down at me.

At the warm, gravelly sound, my eyes dragged upwards. They ran over the wide plans of his chest right in front of my face, up the defined, angled cords of his neck, and the strong, U-shaped curve in his jawline that was shadowed from my angle underneath him. By the time I pulled my head back, a flash of stormy blue gray stared down at me.

An unattractive grunt passed out my parted lips. "Huh?"

"My name is Evan." The corners of his lips curled upwards as the warm thumps strengthened against my palms. "Not arrogant ass."

"Hands off." I shoved him backwards, then palmed my own chest, where my heart beat wildly. My upper arms still flamed warm, like his hands were still secured around them.

His blonde-haired head tipped sideways as his eyes darkened but that damn smirk I already hated puffed out into a slight pout. "You're not going to help me try it on?"

I blinked impassively at him, so his eyes dropped downwards between us. Mine followed, right down to the semi-erection in his sweatpants that poked itself straight in my direction.

Within one step, I pushed my body flush against his. Mine was like a squishy piece of melted cheese compared to his muscular chest and abs, but I palmed those rounded, rock-hard shoulders. With a purposeful rub of my pelvis over his erection, I raised up onto my tip toes and brushed my lips over the shell of his ear.