Wild and Free (The Three #3)(41)

Abel looked at Hooker. “You’ll excuse Xun. He’s partial to his brother, and since he is, he’s protective.”

That got Abel another grin from Hooker and a returned, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Delilah again giggled.

And finally Abel relaxed.

*

“So, that started great, turned down the road to potential bloodbath scary-as-shit, but it ended up okay, don’t you think?”

This was Delilah, standing at the sink, her ass moving as she leaned over it, rubbing some shit into her face that smelled like heaven, which was what her ass looked like wiggling like that.

He tore his eyes and thoughts off her ass, something he intended to have in his hands in a few minutes, and thought she was right.

Eventually, everyone calmed down. Jian-Li, Delilah, with Jian-Li roping in Xun—likely to give him a piece of her mind—cleared the table and did the dishes after Delilah brought out fresh beers. More shit was shot amongst the men as the beer kept coming. They had a getting to know you session that went relatively well, considering everyone was watchful and some guarded.

Finally, the night ended with Jian-Li offering Hooker her guest bedroom so he could be close to his daughter, Hooker accepting, and him bringing up his saddlebags.

The rest of the men decided on a schedule of vigilance, Abel’s brothers and Hooker’s boys taking turns keeping an eye on the restaurant and alley.

Abel was left out of this as Chen explained that he needed to keep out of sight, and smell, for both his and Delilah’s protection.

Abel was down with this, not because he didn’t want to do his part in taking care of his mate, but because he wanted time with her to get to know her better.

Those not on duty took off, Wei and Xun to their apartments, Hooker’s boys to check in at The Chain. Chen and Poncho were first up.

Abel took one break from this to go down and heat up a bag of blood, making a call at the same time to replenish his supplies. After he drank it, he went up and had more beer, conversation, and Jian-Li’s light dinner of loaded pu-pu platters after a heavy lunch. All this before they called it a night.

All in all, they’d spent eight hours together and that was about seven hours too many before he had Delilah to himself again.

“Yeah,” he responded to her question.

She grabbed a towel, wiped her hands, tossed it on the sink, then walked in a way that was part walking, part skipping to the bed where he was lounging, back to pillows angled up against the headboard, body naked under the covers.

She jumped in, landing on her knees, undulated to bounce twice, all the while grinning at him as he struggled not to knife up and drag her on top of him so he could roll on top of her. Then she fell to her hands and knees, crawled up, and collapsed on top of him.

Fuck, she was f*cking amazing.

He wrapped his arms around her and started to count down—five seconds to take in her grin, then he was going to f*ck her.

This plan was thwarted when she tipped her head and asked, “You play guitar?”

“Yeah.”

Her grin got bigger. “Right on! I love guitar.”

“Good to know,” he muttered, eyes dropping to her mouth.

“Though, I guess, you get as many years in as you have, you can learn a lot. Do you play any other instruments?” she asked.

He looked to her eyes, tightened his arms around her, and answered shortly, “No.”

“Oh,” she murmured.

He was about to take her mouth when she kept at him.

“What’s bao bei mean?”

“Precious. Treasured.”

Her eyes got soft, as did her body on top of him, and she whispered, “Sweet.” Then she pushed further up him so she was closer to his face but leaned back, resting her arms on his chest, and she kept f*cking going. “Do you speak Chinese?”

“Mandarin.”

“No other dialects?” she pressed on.

“Nope.”

“Did you live in China?”

“With Hui and Mei. It was Sying and her husband, Chang, who moved us to America.”

“Hui, Mei, and Sying?”

“Hui found me. Mei was her daughter. Sying was Mei’s daughter.”

Her focus became acute on his eyes and her voice got quiet when she asked, “Do you think your eyes are cool and tilty like that because one of your parents is Chinese?”

“No clue.”

“You have really beautiful eyes,” she told him.

Fuck, he wanted to f*ck her.

“Thanks.”

“And great hair.”

“Lilah—”

“What business do you have that you keep from being messy?”

Christ, she’d rounded him right into a corner in a way he couldn’t get out.

He tried anyway, trailing a hand up her spine and into her hair, then pulling her face closer to his. “I’ll answer, *cat, but later. Right now, gotta f*ck you.”

Her eyes widened. “Is the urge back?”

“No. Just can smell your cunt. I’ve f*cked it, haven’t eaten it, and now I got a different kind of urge.”

She squirmed on top of him and he smelled it, the surge between her legs.

She liked his urge.

“Take off your panties, Lilah,” he ordered.