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 fucking amazing.

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

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

“Yeah.”