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I was getting carried away. I meant just to have her work her clit until she came so I could hear her and come too.

She was too hurt to be finger-fucking herself. But my selfish ass just couldn’t rein it in.

“Slow,” I demanded, deciding that if I couldn’t stop myself, I could at least take it easy.

There was a gasp as her fingers slid inside herself.

“Are you missing my cock already, baby?” I asked, stroking my cock.

“Yes.”

“You gonna ride me when you’re feeling better?”

There wasn’t a hesitation this time. “Yes.”

“Work your clit a little faster for me,” I demanded as her breathing got quicker.

As much as I could sit and listen to her getting revved up for hours, I knew we had to keep it short and sweet so she didn’t get caught.

“Yeah, like that,” I said, hearing my own voice getting tight and airless as I felt my own orgasm looming. “A little faster, baby,” I said as her ragged breathing turned to quiet whimpers. “Are you going to come for me?” I asked.

“Yes,” she hissed.

“Me too,” I told her, already so close.

There was a deep intake of breath then a muffled whimper, like she was pressing her lips together.

“Fuck,” I hissed, coming hard just to the thought of her, the memory of her, the sound of her.

It was a long minute before my mind was clear enough to think straight.

“You still there, Dell?”

“Yeah,” she said, voice soft.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she said with a strange little laugh.

“Good. You need to get some sleep.”

She made an ‘mmm’ sound that made me think she was already halfway there.

“I’m heading back to Shady Valley in the morning.”

“Me too,” she said.

“You gonna be able to hold onto that phone?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll text you,” I told her. Even though I’d never been an ‘I’ll text you’ kind of guy.

I tried to tell myself it was just because I wanted to check in on her after the attack.

But no one, not even my damn self, was going to buy that.

I simply wanted to text her.

And call her.

And, eventually, see her again.

“Goodnight, Jass.”

“Goodnight, baby. Feel better.”

With that, we hung up, I cleaned up, and I fell asleep thinking one dominant, swirling thought.

What the fuck was going on with me?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Delaney

“You’re flushed,” Sean said, sitting next to me in the backseat on our way back to Shady Valley.

“Does she have a fever?” Cillian asked from the driver’s seat.

Sean’s hand reached out, touching my forehead.

“No.”

“It’s just the ride,” I said, lying through my teeth. “It’s bumpy. It hurts,” I added.

Because there was no way I could let them know the truth.

That I was thinking about the call I’d gotten from Jass.

When Nyx had given me the phone, I really didn’t think I’d have the guts to reach out to him, even if it was all I could think about.

But eventually, after my brothers had left the room so I could rest, and there was nothing to keep me company but the bad reruns on the TV and my own swirling thoughts, I went ahead and reached for the phone.

Besides, I really did owe him a thank you.

I never expected for the conversation to take a turn in the direction it had.

And every single time I thought about it, I felt my face and neck and chest warming.

Which was why Sean was worried about my flushed cheeks.

“Do you want us to stop?” Cillian asked, glancing at me in the rearview and wincing despite only being able to see half my face.

Rian, the easy-going, slightly tactless, lovable brother of mine, had shown up at my room with a pair of enormous, extremely dark sunglasses, telling me, “You know, so the light doesn’t bother you. And so we don’t have to look at all that,” he told me with a smirk, waving at my battered face.

That had proven pretty prophetic of Rian because once the drip was taken off, and I was loaded up in the SUV, a skull-splitting headache had me curling into myself and rocking until Cillian could get my medication filled.

And, honestly, it was good that they couldn’t see my whole face. Whether they were aware of it or not, they winced when they did, and I really didn’t like seeing that look on their faces.

“No,” I said, shaking my head, then having the newly familiar swirling sensation that my lovely concussion brought along with it. “I just want to get home,” I added.

“It’s not that far, kid,” he assured me. “Only an hour left.”

“And if the shit the hospital gave you isn’t strong enough,” Conor piped in, “we can find you something stronger.”

Which meant they would go to the Russians.

While my brothers weren’t enemies of the Bratva, they made sure they didn’t get too close with them either.

But they would do that.

For me.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay once I get in bed,” I told them, not wanting them to worry too much.

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