Camo mutters under his breath, and some of the other men shake their heads.
“Then let her go,” is all Halen says, and it is enough to make me see red.
“SHE IS MINE!” I roar, pushing from my seat, my chair falling to the ground. “She is not going anywhere.”
The men grit their teeth, but do not move or say anything.
“I am fucking done,” I snarl and leave the room.
Marching back to my room where my go-bag is kept, Delaney is curled up on our bed, her Kindle in her hands. She looks amazing.
Dressed in only my old KOAMC T-shirt and purple lace panties, her hair is held back by a skull clip she uses.
She sees I am not in the mood to talk, so she says nothing. Usually, she would soothe my anger, but she is part of it right now, so I need to leave before I say something I might regret.
Stepping over to the closet, I pull open the door and pick up my duffle bag. I can feel her eyes on me, but she says nothing. I fucking hate it; I want her to talk to me, to say anything.
This stupid place we are in needs to fuck right off, so we can move on.
The guys and she think that I do not understand why she is hurt and upset with the Olwen thing, but I do, more than she thinks. It gutted me seeing the look of devastation on her face when I said nothing.
With a sigh, my shoulders drop in defeat.
Turning to face her, her eyes are sad, adding another punch to the gut.
“Me and the guys are leaving for Boston in ten.” I step toward the bed, and Delaney gets to her knees, moving toward me.
Shit that is sexy, like some teen-boy porn movie fantasy.
The material of my shirt stops mid-thigh, and I know what is under there, what is hiding from me.
Stopping at the edge, I meet her, my fingers flexing with the need to reach out to touch her. She looks into my eyes, biting her lip.
I groan at the little action, and her eyes flash with heat.
“Thorin.” Her hands land on my chest.
Mine slide over her hips, under the material. Her skin is hot and smooth, making my dick hard.
“I know I fucked up. My chest feels like it is caving in with how much I have hurt you. When I get back, we will go to my house and talk. No club. No interruptions. Just us.”
“You have a house?” Her head tilts to the side.
I smile and nod. “I do. About thirty minutes from here.”
“Okay.” Banging on my door has me snarling.
“Fuck off.” My girl giggles.
“Got to move, brother.”
“Go. Come back safe and we will talk.”
“Kiss me.” My hand slips around her neck, my fingers digging into her hair, then I crash my lips against hers.
She moans and whimpers, while our tongues duel for control, and damn, it is hot that she is as hungry for me as I am her.
“You need to go.” She breaks the kiss, her voice soft, breathy.
