Simple Perfection

some other woman have him. I would shove the candlelight up her ass.
    I closed the distance between me and the door and knocked several times, then stood back and waited. If it took a while, that meant he had to get his clothes on.
    The door swung open and there he stood. He had on a pair of khaki shorts and a white button-up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. I loved it when he wore white. His dark skin was startling in white. I sucked in a deep, fast breath at the sight of him.
    He didn’t move. We just stood there, staring at each other. It had been almost three weeks since I’d left. It felt like forever since I’d seen his face.
    “Hi,” I managed to croak out.
    “Hi,” he replied, still standing in the doorway, looking like a beautiful fallen angel. Who had he gotten dressed up for? My nose caught a scent from inside and I stiffened. Someone was cooking. In the dark?
    “Can I come in?” I asked.
    He stepped back so I could enter the house. I didn’t see her yet. But I smelled the food. Maybe she isn’t here yet.
    “Are you expecting someone?” I asked without looking back at him.
    “Yes,” he replied. His voice was low. He didn’t want to tell me that. At least he was honest.
    “Oh, I’ll—” I stopped myself. I almost told him I’d be quick. I almost apologized. I wasn’t going to do that. I was here to fight for him. Not lie down and let her have him.
    “You should probably call her and tell her that your plans have changed,” I said, turning around and facing him.
    Something flashed in his eyes but the stupid lights were off and I couldn’t see him well enough.
    “Why’s that, Della?” he asked as he took a step toward me.
    I stood my ground. He was hurt. I had hurt him but I was back. Dammit. I was back. “Because if she steps foot in this house I will have to kick her ass.” I snapped my mouth shut. I couldn’t believe I’d said that.
    A grin tugged at the corner of Woods’s mouth as he took another step toward me. I didn’t move away. I wanted him close. I wasn’t going to run. “Hmm, someone’s jealous,” he said as he reached out and ran a finger along my jawline. I shivered.
    “Very,” I admitted. I wasn’t ashamed of it. I was livid with jealousy.
    “Why are you jealous, Della?” He took another step toward me, causing me to back up against the wall. His hands rested against the wall on either side of my head. “Who would you ever have to be jealous of?”
    I was having a difficult time breathing normally. He smelled so good. The tanned skin of his throat was right there. I wanted to lick it. Taste him. “Anyone you touch,” I said breathlessly.
    “Then you only have one person to be jealous of,” he replied, and lowered his head to nuzzle my neck. I trembled and reached up to touch his shoulders. I needed some support. There was someone else. He was admitting it. I wanted to hit him and scream and I wanted to grab his shirt and kiss him. Claim him.
    “You left me, Della. You left me. You broke me,” he whispered against my skin, and then ran the tip of his tongue up my neck and took a small nip at my ear.
    “Who is she?” I asked, needing to remind myself that he’d been with someone else.
    “Who is who?” he asked, pressing against me as he continued his assault on my neck as if it were a delicacy he craved.
    “Who have you . . . who are you cooking for? Who’s coming here? Who have you touched?” I asked, holding on tighter to his shoulders as my body went warm and weak.
    “You. Always, you. Just you,” he said, lowering his mouth to my collarbone.
    What did he mean “me”? “I don’t understand,” I panted breathlessly as he ran his lips over my cleavage slowly and murmured about how good I smelled.
    “What don’t you understand, baby?” he asked as he moved his hand from the wall to cup my right breast.
    I let out a strangled cry of pleasure. I wasn’t going to be able to think clearly if he kept this up.
    “You said there was someone else,” I said as my body betrayed me and moved closer to him like a magnet.
    “No, I didn’t. You asked if I was expecting someone. I said yes. I was expecting you. You asked who I touched. I said only one person. You. Always you,” he said, finally lifting his head to look at me. The heat I expected to see in his eyes wasn’t what I saw. His heart was in his eyes. He loved me. It was right there for me to see. He was showing me with a look that he hadn’t given up on