Chapter 4

Delilah had just finished showering, again, to get the grime from Madonna's Bar off her…and she needed a little release using her fingers as well. Being around Jon again, after all this time, had turned her on and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. She made the mistake of going home and re-watched that damn trailer of Jon Moxley's return again…and instantly became hot and bothered. Nothing a cold shower couldn't fix…and she had to stay the hell off that trailer.

Sighing, she had on boy cut panty shorts and a camisole, her usual sleep attire, both black. Her head snapped to the side, just as she finished brushing her wet hair out, at the knock on her front door and her eyes narrowed. Cincinnati was notorious for crime and her apartment wasn't exactly Fort Knox security. Pulling out a lead pipe from behind the door, Delilah didn't have a peephole to look through to see who it was and took a deep breath when the knocking persisted.

"Who is it?" She demanded in a tense voice, squeezing the lead pipe in her hand a little tighter.

"Doll," Jon was slurring. "Need a place to crash." A minute later, and he bet she was debating on whether or not to even bother, the door opened and he, with a big ass grin, swept right in. "Your brother…has a fucked sense of humor." He informed her, the slur gone and then eyed her apartment. "This is cozy, Del." Sami had called for a cab all right, for his 'drunk, passed out' friend and sent him here because Sami was twisted sometimes.

Probably one of the reasons they got along so well.

Jon finally really looked at her, electric blues combing her from top to bottom blatantly.

"I hope you're not just NOW realizingthat,Moxley." Delilah retorted deadpan, shutting the door and deadbolting it again, feeling his eyes devouring her.

Why would Sami send him here, of all places?

Jon was loaded; surely, he could afford a damn hotel room somewhere in the city! Then, she realized the predicament she was in and that uneasiness, that tension, that nervous energy was back. Granted, her wrestling attire bared some of her backside when she wrestled, but…these were actual panties she wore while standing in front of him. She did NOT expect any visitors tonight and when she heard him slurring, that was what made her open the door in the first place.

"You can, uh, crash on the couch, though I'm not sure how comfortable it is…"

"Not going to be a sweetheart and offer to share the bed?" Jon's tone was teasing, but he had not missed the way those cotton panties clung to everything, showcasing her little triangle right between her beautifully sculpted thighs. Holy. Shit. "Floor is fine, I'd break your couch." He had slept on a lot worse and at least she had carpet. Tearing his heated gaze away from those panties, Jon looked into her face and more importantly, into her eyes. "You look nervous, doll. Why? Afraid I'll eat you?" He grinned, baring his teeth at her.

He always made her nervous, since day one, and either he had picked up on it and feasted on it or…he was an oblivious idiot. "You're not going to break my couch. It's sturdy and it reclines on each end, so it's LIKE a bed. Almost." Why did his baring teeth make her stomach tighten again? "And I don't think you'd like my flavor." He liked wild, crazy girls that liked to carve or tattoo his name into their skin. She was the total opposite of what he went for and knew it. "I'll get you some blankets and a pillow." Padding down the small corridor, she didn't notice Jon following her into her room as she dug into her closet. As soon as Delilah shut the door with the blankets and pillow in hand, she turned and jumped out of her skin because he was RIGHT THERE. "Damn it, Jon!"

Who was the oblivious idiot now? She hadn't even noticed him following along, his footsteps muffled thanks to shucking his shoes and carpeting. "How do you know I won't like your flavor?" He asked sweetly, wondering where her head was at right now. "You may taste delicious, doll." Delilah was glaring at him, obviously not amused at him giving her a near heart attack. "Come on now," He took the pillow and blanket from her, his fingers blatantly running along hers before pulling the items to his chest. "Out of all the flavors you can be, don't be salty." She looked like she'd be spicy, sweet, and hot enough to make his tongue tingle.

Jon licked his bottom lip.

"I'm always salty, didn't you know?" Delilah retorted with a sweet smile of her own, pulling her hands away from his again and took a step back. "And I'm not interested in any flavor you have to offer either." Blatant lie, but she refused to sleep with one of her brother's best friends. Hell, screwing around in the wrestling industry, in general, was a bad idea, though she'd had her fair share of men. She wasn't a prude or a Virgin Mary, but something told her getting involved with Jon and his 'flavor' would be detrimental to her personal and professional life. "Now out. I don't even let Sami in my bedroom." It was her sanctuary away from the world.

"You know you love me a lot more than you do Sami, I'm entertaining." Jon wasn't budging, electric blues now roaming her bedroom.

It was very…Delilah, he supposed. What he actually knew about her could fill maybe three thimbles. It was fair to say they had 'ran the streets' together, but not totally accurate. She had just been there, more inclined to follow Sami around and even back then, he realized, she had been…nervous around him.

Hmm, a little food for thought later on. "That is a big bed, doll," His eyes narrowed down at her. "Do you have a man?"

Wow, this man had NO filter and no shame to ask her a question like that. "That is none of your business, Good." Screw using his wrestling name or his first name…her cheeks infused with color and she looked away from him, folding her arms tightly in front of her chest. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. That's for me to know and you to find out." Like Delilah would really tell him anything about her personal life or answer that question outright?! "And it is a big bed because I like having SPACE instead of feeling like a sardine when I sleep." It was a king-sized bed with a California mattress that was extremely comfortable. The bed took up almost all of her room, leaving just enough to walk around, along with a dresser, which also had her television on top of it with a Roku box. "Why do you care if I have a man or not? What's it to you?"

"Beautiful woman like you, without a man? I'm pretty sure that's a crime somewhere." Jon informed her, pleased she had used his last name.

It was a step up from Mox or Moxley and a step below his actual name. They were making progress. He reached out, tucking the pillow and blanket beneath one arm, to push a strand of silver hair back behind her ear. She was blushing again.

"How long have we known each other, Del?" Silly woman. The way she acted and the things she said contrasted with her body language, and Jon liked puzzles.

Why did he insist on touching her? "Long enough to know you have serious boundary and touching issues and that line won't work on me."

They'd been kids; Jon had a horrible childhood and her and Sami didn't exactly have a fairytale of their own either. Both of their parents had been killed during a robbery at a liquor store, shot in the head point blank. They had been raised, sort of, by their drunken Aunt and since she was a year older than Sami, Delilah had to take care of her little brother. They both had to grow up pretty quickly and had their backsides handed to them in the streets a time or two. They had lived in Cleveland with their family and had to move to Cincinnati at age 7 and 8.

Sami met Jon at age 10 – wow, she was 11 when she met Jon and he was 12. They had all gone to the same school together, all in different grades and they all had the same love for wrestling. It was the only thing that kept them from completely falling apart due to how shitty their lives were – there were days they would go without eating because their Aunt would forget to give them lunch money or make them lunch. It got to the point where Delilah had to learn how to cook for her and Sami, just so they didn't starve to death.

"My lines work with everyone, you're just playing hard to get,Delilah." His voice had dropped to a hard, gritty rasp while staring at her. Boundary issues? Jon supposed he did, at least with people he considered friends. Not her, not a real, legitimate friend, their relationship was based around Sami and sometimes even wrestling. "Fine, be salty. I'll go to bed and maybe even consider wearing something tonight, just for you, doll." Because he preferred to sleep naked, though…Not on a floor, so the couch it was. No rugburn on his backside would be happening.

"I'm not playing anything. This isn't a game to me, Good, not like it is to you. I don't play games. When I tell you I'm not interested, I mean it. You're too…eccentric and crazy for my taste. And I'm not one of those rats you like to shack up with that carve your name into their skin and mutilate themselves because of their 'love' for you. So, I will continue to stay salty and you can kiss my salty ass while you're at it. Good night." Shoving him out of her room somewhat harshly, she slammed it shut and locked it, having locks on every door in her apartment for a reason. Delilah didn't trust easily or wear her heart on her sleeve. "Playing hard to get…what an asshole." She muttered, pulling her comforter back to slip under it, after flipping the light off.

That was all well and fine except she had made two mistakes. The first was assuming that over the past seven and a half years, who he had been prior to going into the WWE was still who he was at his core. Well, she wasn't wrong about that completely, but his taste in broads had changed, quite a bit, so Delilah and her assuming made her an ass. Second, she had BLATANTLY locked that door, knowing he would hear it. If that wasn't an open invitation, Jon didn't know what was. Smirking, he headed back out to the living room and glanced at the clock. Setting an alarm on his cell and laying down, Jon already knew where he'd be spending most of his night.

In her bed.

How she did NOT hear the jostling of the lock on her door being messed with, or feel another body slide into bed with her, was beyond Delilah. Then again, she did have her television on, so it had generated noise to block out the sound of the lock being tampered with. Her own alarm was set to get up early in the morning, her bags already packed for the next stretch of this professional wrestling journey she embarked on with her brother. Not that she didn't love wrestling because she did wholeheartedly. Right before her alarm went off, Delilah's inner alarm did first and her eyes slowly opened, feeling an arm around her waist. Her entire body tensed, after the sleepy fog cleared and her eyeballs grew wide, knowing damn well she went to bed ALONE last night.

Slowly turning her head, Delilah saw the sleeping face of Jon beside her and had to bite back a scream, even though it would have served him right. What the HELL was wrong with this man? Did he NOT understand she wasn't interested, lie or not, and she didn't want to be TOUCHED? He broke into her bedroom to slide into bed with her and pulled her into his arms to snuggle with her. Carefully, she extracted herself from his arm and slid out of bed, shaking, and decided to let her alarm clock on her phone wake him the hell up. She was not doing it a kind way and made sure to lock the door on her bathroom, trying to swallow down her panic and desire all at the same time.

Jon immediately rolled over and grabbed her cell phone, stuffing it beneath the mattress before getting out of bed. Picking the lock, that was something he hadn't done in a long time, but the skill had come back quickly. Laughing under his breath, Jon followed her right out into the hallway and then eyeballed the bathroom door. No doubt that was locked as well. He waited until he heard the shower going before getting to work on that one. Delilah lived in a cheap, one bed – one bath apartment, and he seriously had to pee.

She had just finished undressing when the door swung open and this time, Delilah screamed, snatching her towel up to cover herself. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, YOU LUNATIC!" What the HELL was wrong with this man?! Picking up the nearest thing she could get her hands on, which was the older for her toothbrush, she threw it at him and clocked him in the face. "GET OUT!"

Delilah didn't give a DAMN about being hospitable anymore and slammed the door shut, making his forehead bounce off it and flipped the lock again. Her back pressed against the door to hold it, tears forming in her eyes and really hoped Sami showed up soon. Now, she was terrified. NOW, she didn't know what Jon wanted from her, but he wasn't getting it without a fight.

Breathe, breathe, she mentally coached, gritting her teeth while her body trembled, clutching the towel to her chest as tight as she could, even though Delilah was alone now.

Hopefully, Jon would leave and never come back again because he had just thoroughly freaked her out.

"Not nice, I have to piss, Del!" Jon laughed through the door, slapping his hand on it and groaned when she shouted something unintelligible at him.

Fine. He walked out into the living and dining area, looking for a potted plant or something. Of course not, she'd probably kill a plant. He wound up pissing in her kitchen sink instead, making sure to be nice and rinse it out with hot water and dish soap when he was done.

He had to pee, so he PICKED the lock on the bathroom door WHILE she was in here?! Did the idiot not understand when a bathroom was OCCUPIED? Delilah refused to take a shower with him here and shut the water off before putting her clothes back on, then realized they were STILL just her panties and tank top.

"Fuck." She cursed, not wanting to go out there and kept the towel clutched to her, taking a chance to open the bathroom door.

Poking her head out, she looked from left to right before making a beeline for her bedroom and slammed her door, flipping the lock on it again. Dropping the towel, she quickly pulled out fresh clothes and decided to wear capri's instead of jeans along with a racerback red top. Once she was dressed, and her heart didn't feel like it would leap out of her chest, Delilah unlocked the door and jumped at the sight of Jon standing on the other side. She was tempted to slam the door in his face and instead stood there with a stern expression on her face, lips pursed tightly together. Jon was lucky his balls weren't lodged into his throat for the stunts he had pulled while staying in HER place.

And why hadn't he left yet?