Hey There Delilah Book Novels & Stories

“Maybe I want to be.” She stared at me for a second, then scoffed. “Stay away from me, motherfucker.” Just as I was about to speak, Caleb appeared at the bottom of the stairs, casually scrolling through his phone. Delilah froze mid-step, clutching her notebook and bag a little too tightly, eyes fixed on him with that ridiculous, hopeless adoration. My chest tightened. The way she stared at him felt like a punch straight to my gut. Delilah followed him to the kitchen removing something from her bag. I found myself going after them too.

he added. Delilah’s gaze snapped to him, her smirk widening. “Madness?” She let go of Olive’s chin and stood up. “Madness is thinking your dearest Olive could ever be happy while I exist.” Olive’s hands trembled as she tightened her hold on her stomach. “You don’t have to do this, Delilah.” Delilah leaned in, her breath warm against Olive’s ear. “Oh, but I do,” she murmured. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

The small room felt hot, and the air was thick with Emilia’s perfume as the women stared each other off. Emilia finally sighed and rolled her eyes. “What do you want?” She snapped again. Fixing her hair to look busy. Delilah raised the book. “I need to know. What inspired this book of yours? Tell me everything.” A knowing smile spread across her lips as she saw the book. Her eyes had a glassy, distant look like she was high on Mount Everest. “It came from my college days, Delilah. All the stories we’d hear about these whoring, loose girls screwing boys all over school, while acting like saints.

She insists, "You had sex with me. The article said that you've only had sex with two people and I am one of them. It's so obvious that you're not over me. My name is Delaney, and Dels could be short for Delaney." "But it's not short for Delaney." I explain, grabbing Delilah by the waist and pulling her in front of me. I wrap my arms around her protectively, "Dels is short for Delilah, my wife, and the article is about her." I decide to be extra clear with my explanation.

"Stand up. Let me get a good look—see if they've thickened or not…" The smile in Delilah's eyes deepened. She placed a hand on my shoulder to steady herself as she stood, then lifted the hem of her gown all the way up to her thighs so I could see better. "They haven't thickened," I said. "Still as slender and straight as ever." My gaze drifted to the pale pink panties barely hidden in the shadows of her skirt. I couldn't hold back any longer. I reached out, pulled her into my arms, and pressed my lips to hers.

She wasn’t sure what this new chapter would demand from her. When she reached the bedroom, she quietly opened the door, expecting to find the space empty and inviting. Instead, what she saw made her stop in her tracks. Mrs. Hayden, the housekeeper, was standing by the bed, holding Delilah’s large black book—the book! The one where Delilah had jotted down notes about her clients' gory requests. It wasn’t just any book—it was private, and Mrs. Hayden had it open, her eyes scanning its pages with a focused intensity.

No women. “A devil with no weakness,” she murmured, the words barely louder than the crunch of the apple. Then a memory surfaced: the way he had devoured her the entire night, slow and relentless, as if her body were the only sin worth savoring. Her fingers tightened subconsciously around the book on devils she had just finished reading. Its pages had spoken of their insatiable hunger for untouched souls, pure, unchanging, untouchable. The moment a soul was altered in any way, it slipped forever from their grasp.

He said seriously. "Yes, sir," I rolled my eyes and enjoyed my meal. Shortly after, Javan left, leaving me to myself and the book I was reading. I couldn't stop thinking about Delia. Despite the fact that she hated me, she still kept my child and even let me touch him.