Page 90 of Manhattan Secret

Horror covers every inch of her face. Pleading in her wet eyes.

A week ago I would have flattened a guy for threatening my friend with her sordid, pitiful secrets she holds close to her chest. Only our circle know of her crimes.

I step over to the staircase, not even affording a glance back. I’ve deleted my number from her phone, that’s as good as being sent to no man’s land.

I’ll go easy on her, recalling Laney’s plea for me not to do anything.

Even now, my compassionate girl has helped Riley, and that selfish brat won’t ever give her a thank you for it.

I let myself back into Laney’s house just after 2 am.

The room is dimly lit with two lamps, and the TV down low. The boys on the couch watching it and my eyes move over the room to Laney curled up asleep in the armchair.

“Zander’s clean,” I say quietly to them, shrugging out of my jacket, I cross to her, picking up her prone body and sit down with her on my lap.

Needing her close with her scent in my nose to cleanse me from the churning in my gut.

“Do we let him know?” Asks Kian. I nod my head. It was up to Zander what side of the fence he chooses.

She wakes just as I’m letting the guys know they can go home. “Lachie?”

“Yeah, I’m here, mouse.” My face buries in her hair and she puts her arms tightly around my neck. “Are you hurt?”

I chuckle, framing her face with my two hands, I drop a kiss to her nose.

“Do you think this is the Jets and Sharks? I’m fine, baby.”

“What happened?”

“Let’s get you to bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”

She frowns and I kiss that away too. Deep, possessive, crazed to own her with every slash of my tongue.

Nothing will hurt Delaney, not for as long as I live.

C H A P T E R 25

Delaney

A head between my legs wakes me the next morning.

A screaming orgasm is one way to get rid of the tension headache threatening to split open my skull, I guess.

Lachlan is one of those perky… always wakes horny guys.

I mean, he’s nineteen, of course he has wood. I’ll worry more if his dick isn’t hard all the time. And I benefit from his horniness because he can’t stay off me, not even when I’m dreaming I’m winning a cake eating contest.

“Dammit, Lachie,” I whine, clawing my fingers through his hair, lifting my hips clear from the bed as pleasure zeroes in at the base of my back, ready to erupt. “I nearly won the t-shirt!”

He jerks his head up, licking his damn lips like a slut. My whole body seizes with how sexy he looks. Bed hair, sex lips, sharp shoulders and irresistible. “What, baby?”

“I was dreaming I was winning a cake eating competition and you woke me up before I got my prize!”

His smirk will be my downfall because I cave every time I see it.

“I’m about to eat my fill too, mouse, get my own prize. One out of two wins isn’t bad.” He boasts and dives back at me just as he promises.

Eating his fill. Making me crazy.

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