Page 81 of Injustice and Absolution

I purr at the use of my nickname, relieved to hear him utter it after fearing I would never hear it fall from his lips again. He takes my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger.

“And... I wasn’t angry at you. Just deeply hurt. I opened myself up to you, and when I went outside and saw the two of you together it was like you were stomping on my heart. I lost it.”

The ache in my chest comes back with a vengeance as I watch a tear slip out from beneath his closed eyelid.

“Oh, Drew. I’m so sorry...” I cup his face in my hands and press my lips to his. Then I press them to his cheek where the moisture left its mark in an effort to erase the evidence of his pain. “I promise to make it up to you.”

I lean in and kiss him again, and this time he opens his lips and lets me in. Running his hands through my hair, he eases the tenderness left behind from where he fisted it earlier. Our bodies shift as our heads move, and my pussy strokes his dick with each unintentional rock of my hips.

“I know how you can start.” Drew breaks the kiss, and his cock rubs against my clit as it twitches to life. My eyes meet his and recognize his thirst. Eager to ease his sorrow, I await my instructions. “Slide your pussy against my cock, Delilah. Roll those hips, and tease your clit as you go.”

I wasn’t in the mood until the second his directive was spoken, and as usual, my libido springs to life. I’m grateful the events of this evening didn’t hinder it.

I do as I’m instructed and rub myself along his length. What’s left of his cum mixes with my own building arousal as my fingers work my clit.

“There you go,” he coos. “Such a good girl.”

My eyes flare at the praise, and he spurs me on.

“That’s it, Delilah, show me how sorry you are. Fuck your way back into my good graces.”

And I do.

For the rest of the night, and well into the next day, I show Drew how sorry I am.

In every position he demands, I fervently bend to him, trying like hell to prove it to us both.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ROYCE

I’m haunted by the smug look on that asshole’s face, but I’m tortured even more by the words Delilah threw at me last night.

I’d never take back what she and I did, but this morning, more than ever, I wish I could take back my dumbass, bull-headed decision to push her away.

I’m certain it will always be my greatest regret.

On the way home last night, a plan to reveal the real Drew began to take shape. It would be one thing to take Delilah and force her to come back to me. But she needs to be the one to make the decision to leave on her own.

In order for her to make that call, she needs to know exactly who she’s in a relationship with. I’m certain Drew isn’t a good guy. I just need to get dirt on him to prove it to her. And I need help from the club to get it.

I take a sip of the coffee that’s long since cooled before setting it back down on the table in front of me. Running my hand down my face, I meet the curious gazes of the men before me.

Curious except for Draven, to whom I divulged my every concern and feeling regarding Delilah last night after we got home. Of all my brothers, he’s the only one I’ve ever opened up to like that.

It wasn’t easy, but I let him glimpse the Delilah that I know—the woman she shows to no one else. In doing so, he got a greater understanding of the love she’s planted within me.

“The reason I’ve called you all here is because Delilah is in trouble.”

Curiosity morphs into concern, and the space in my chest I thought my heart vacated years ago warms. Delilah is like a little sister to these guys, and I know they’ll be eager to help her any way they can.

“Before I explain, there’s something I need to confess. Details surrounding this situation that, until last night, I never accepted nor could I admit to. Even within myself.”

I catch Draven’s expression, and he nods for me to continue. Keeping my focus on my coffee mug, I lay my feelings out on the table.

“I’m in love with Delilah. I tried very hard to fight it. It felt wrong because she’s been like a daughter to me. But I also didn’t want to drag her further into this life. You all know the dangers that go along with being a part of this club. I’d die if she got hurt because of it.”

Finally, I chance a look at them. There are varying degrees of understanding written in their expressions. Some shock. But none of them look at me with disgust. Not because of the taboo nature of my feelings or because I’ve opened up to them.

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