His Breaking Point

Showdown

Delila felt as if she was frozen in time and place... well, more like paralyzed by fear and shame, but the result probably was the same. Not that Will, nor Alex, were ever far from her mind, but the second she had entered her kitchen and when Alex had mentioned his father knowing no restraint, her mind had started racing and going dirty places.

She had damn well known that this conversation was bound to happen sooner rather than later, but that didn't make facing it any easier. Trying to divert her thoughts to wine and food had only helped for as long as Alex hadn't decided to kiss her. His touch and him being close still felt way too good, considering what had already happened. But it was not the heat of desire rushing through her anymore, more like the memory of it, some sort of afterglow.

Before she did have the time to come to her senses and step away, she felt his fingers already along her neckline. And not a second later he had let go of her as if she had the plague. Closing her eyes and forcing herself to take a few deep breaths, she tried to compose herself. Because she absolutely knew what Alex had seen just now. Her own reaction to seeing it in the bathroom mirror this morning had been similar. At first, she had foolishly been under the impression that it was somewhat hot that Will had given her those marks. How good must the night have been for her to not even realize that he was leaving them on her at all?

Right now, it didn't seem too romantic anymore and she briefly wondered if he might have done it on purpose. But that wasn't the question right now. She slowly turned around, almost dreading to look Alex in the eyes. But seeing his widened stand and clenched fists already told her more than enough. The muscles in his arms and neck were strained, and once she finally found the courage to fully look at him, his eyes were dark and clouded by anger.

"Alex.... I can explain..."

"Oh, no need to, Delila, I think we both know well enough what's going on here. Just tell me, was it my dad or Trey or did you by any chance fall into somebody else's bed since I saw you kissing my father?"

That stung, even though she knew that he spoke out of anger and hurt. Her voice sounded weaker than she would have liked: "No, there was nobody else.... I spent last night with Will."

"I see.... Well then, thank you for your invitation but I suddenly lost my appetite. As for any conversation, I think right now I might say a few things that could be hard to take back and I wouldn't want that. Even now."

He was about to turn around when he suddenly looked back at her once again. One of his hands cupped her face and he let his thumb graze over her soft skin. Muttering something sounding like "what a damn shame" he finally let go and stormed out of the house.

With the sound of the front door being slammed close, Delila shut her eyes. Angry at herself and the mess that she had created, the stress of it all finally broke its way through in the form of a whole lot of hot tears.

....

Alex was furious, frustrated, and jealous. Driving his truck through town, not caring about any traffic regulations or speed limits, he couldn't help but feel helpless. Why hadn't he contacted her again sooner? He was obviously an idiot for thinking that she had needed time. And what kind of woman went and led men on like that? Well, that wasn't entirely fair, if she had been with him last night, he wouldn't have had a problem with any of it. But why the fuck did it have to be his dad? And why didn't the old man have the decency to leave her alone?

Without realizing where he was actually going, he found himself in front of an imposing dark high rise he knew all too well.

Parking his truck right across the main entrance, he raced up the stairs and into one of the elevators. Arriving at the top floor, he didn't even bother with the pretty brunette secretary that tried to stop him but rushed right through the heavy wooden door to his right.

Not even appearing bothered by his unannounced entry was his father, sitting behind his massive desk, on the phone as usual.

Only a slightly raised eyebrow indicating some sort of irritation, Will ended his call, stood up and made his way over to greet Alex.

"Son, what brings you here this afternoon? I thought everything was right on track?"

"It most certainly isn't and this is not about work!" Without any warning, Alex landed a forceful right hook, perfectly placed and with a satisfying audible impact.

Will, not phased at all, brought a hand to his now split lip and looked at his bloodied fingers with a smirk. "Damn boy, I taught you well. That was one hell of a blow... do you feel better now?"

"Don't patronize me. And yes, it felt pretty fucking great, thank you very much."

With a sigh and looking at his busted knuckles, Alex sat down on the dark sofa. "You just couldn't stay away from her, could you?"

"No, and I really didn't want to... I still don't.... Alex, I know this situation is all sorts of fucked up, but I am not just messing with this woman or you for the fun of it. The whole thing - Delila and my reaction to her - basically caught me by surprise. And I don't even know how to explain it properly, but there is something about her that makes me want her, need her. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced before."

"So, she's not just some quick fun for you then?"

"How could she ever be just that?"

Alex silently agreeing, took in his father's almost pained expression. Slowly getting up again, he walked over to him and hugged him, glad to feel Will returning the sentiment with his usual bone-crushing intensity.

On his way out of the door that he had busted through just minutes earlier, he couldn't stop himself from turning again: "Just so you know, I really do hope that you manage to royally fuck it all up somehow. And when she'll need a shoulder to cry and rely on, I will be there."

And with both of them nodding at each other and coming to some sort of unspoken agreement, he finally made his way out. Feeling a lot calmer than before.