***Note***
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The smoke from his joint lingered around the passenger seat of the car. Puff, puff, and pass. He took a hit and passed it on, allowing the chemical to take him to incredible places. Did it matter that he was out smoking with a whore? Not in the slightest. She puffed as good as the next guy, why not? Higher than a kite, he turned to the town slut whom they called 'Crusty Kristen', and shot her a half smile. He leaned in for a kiss; he needed release and didn't care where it came from.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark figure pass by.
Her hair long and flowing in the midnight air, her skin as pale as the moonlight. In the distance you could hear her boots click against the pavement. She didn't cast him even a glance, but still he felt her presence all around him. His heart pounded wildly as he stepped out of the vehicle and whispered, Delilah.
She was a vixen; an unearthly little minx who had his every nerve on edge. He followed her, not yet realizing that Kristen was tugging on his jacket. Her whining was grating on his nerves and he shoved her off to tail his muse.
He reached for her, she turned, falling into his arms with a seductive grin. She smelt of vanilla and femininity and it intoxicated him more than any bottle ever could. He trailed his finger along her crimson stained lips, capturing them with his own, uncaring that it is her own blood that taints his mouth. They fought for dominance, her hands tugged at his curls. When he was ready to move it farther, she pulled away. His hazel eyes glazed over and his need for her overwhelmed his senses. She straightens his disheveled collar, admiring his swollen lips and messy hair. His eyes moved over her with adoration and all she whispered was, I don't keep company with men who fuck trash, before walking off into the night.
Jack's head was spinning and his mind on Delilah. Her rejection stung and the truth rung in his ears. Kristen was nothing but a distraction to calm the storm he had brewing with his vixen, Delilah. Something to dig into while he figured his life out, but how could that walking sex object just deny his primal needs? He craved her. She consumed his thoughts, her fire running through his veins; he needed her more than oxygen. Her presence has recalled all of his torturous behavior towards her years ago, when she was but a naive girl, not ready to be in his world. He had come in and charmed her to the core and she had fallen so hard for him. She had even let him in past the walls she had built up so high around her; only to be wounded...left to bleed.
