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“You could always pretend to be sick,” I tease, pressing my body against his a little harder.

He groans, but there’s a seriousness in his eyes when he grips a handful of my hair and forces my head back so he can look me in the eyes.

“I’d never risk my team by leaving them a man short.”

“Shit,” I mutter. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“If you miss me that much, you can always be naked for me when I call.”

“You’re incorrigible,” I tease, but knowing he’ll still want at least that from me while he’s gone could possibly mean he doesn’t have plans on meeting anyone else.

Thinking about Penny, the woman who approached him during the toy run, still has the power to heat my blood to boiling.

“You make me fucking crazy. You know that, right?” he says, burying his nose in my neck. “Griffin, Tug, and Boomer are staying behind. They’re the ones instructed to provide transportation to the shelter on the days you’re scheduled.”

We’ve been over all of this, but I don’t give him a hard time for mentioning it again.

“I’m going to miss you, Beth Lee.”

His name with mine sounds like something I should’ve been called all my life, and I don’t fight the wide smile it brings to my face despite that voice telling me not to get used to it because it probably won’t last much longer.

“Kiss me once more, sweetheart,” he says, but he’s pressing his lips to mine before I’m really given a chance to make the choice on my own.

His tongue sweeps over mine. It doesn’t matter the hours we’ve spent locked away in this room in the weeks since I arrived here with him, my body still aches for him. I crave him like an addiction I know I’ll never be able to break myself of on my own.

“Jesus, woman, You make it hard to walk away.”

“I can tell.” I sweep my hand over the erection in his jeans, loving the groan of frustration that escapes his throat.

“Stay in this room until I’m gone.”

“Keeping me a secret?”

“Trying to fight the urge to take you one more time before we leave.”

I take a step back and pull his long t-shirt over my head. I lock my eyes on his mouth and the way his jaw tenses at the sight of me standing naked in the middle of the room.

“You’re fucking trouble,” he says, taking a step closer as he reaches for the buckle of his belt.

Knuckles hit the other side of the bedroom door.

“We’re pulling out in five, Romeo.”

Derrick pulls in a deep breath as he laces his belt back through the loops of his jeans.

“I hate Newton,” I mutter.

“No you don’t,” he tells me, pressing one more kiss to my forehead before grabbing the strap of his overnight bag. “Be good.”

“I will,” I promise. “Be safe.”

“Always,” he says before walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

I do as he says, and I wait in the room, getting dressed, instead of going out to watch him drive off. I know it would leave me standing on the porch blubbering like a momma sending her only child off to war, and I don’t want to embarrass the man any more than showing up here married to him after less than two days.

By the time I’m dressed and have my hair pulled up in a ponytail, the caravan of SUVs carrying the guys to the airstrip have already gone.

“I’m told I’m taking you to the shelter?”

I smile at Griffin. He’s married to Gigi’s sister, Ivy, the other half of Kincaid and Em’s set of twin girls.

“If you don’t mind,” I tell him.

“I’m going too,” Em says, coming from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a paper towel. “Hey there, hon.”

Griffin grins at his mother-in-law and doesn’t grumble at all when she lifts up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Does Kincaid know you’re leaving the property?” he asks instead, pulling out his phone and firing off a text.

“He’s coming, too,” she says, waving her hand just as her husband comes out of the kitchen.

“We ready to go?” the club president asks as we walk from the kitchen to the front porch.

Em climbs into the back of the SUV with me while Griffin climbs in behind the wheel and Kincaid takes up the passenger seat.

“Are you excited?” Em asks after we get buckled in and on our way.

“I am,” I tell her honestly.

“Victoria said Brielle has asked about you twice already, and I have to say that’s a feat. She normally sticks to herself and just grumbles foul language under her breath.”

“I imagine she’s had a rough life,” I tell her, wondering if this conversation goes against the NDA I signed.

“They all have,” Em confirms. “But Brielle might have had it rougher than most that I know.”

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