Chapter 7

7

DAMIEN

N either of us can stand to be apart from the other, so Delaney stays at mine after a quick stop at her apartment to grab clothes and supplies for work the next day. Delaney is exhausted from the trip, so after I get some food into her and give her one of my t-shirts to use as pajamas, we fall into bed.

I sleep sounder than ever, with her curled up against me, holding her close the entire night. I wake before her, taking a moment to examine how beautiful she is in the early morning light. Her blonde hair is a halo around her head, splayed out on the pillow, strands of it resting against my shoulder and chest. Her eyes flutter a little as she dreams, lashes casting a shadow on her cheeks. She's warm and soft against me, and it pains me to pull away from her. But it won't be long before she has to get up and get ready for work, and I want her to wake up to coffee and breakfast.

The urge to take care of her, to look after my girl, is as instinctual as breathing, as impossible to ignore as the need to eat or drink. It's in my bones, part of who I am.

I slip out of the sheets, disturbing my dreaming Delaney as little as possible, and quickly pull on a pair of sweatpants before heading to the kitchen. The noise of the coffee grinder fills the air along with the rich, dark scent of coffee, and I inhale deeply. I set about the routine of frothing milk and pulling espresso shots, making two coffees, and adding two spoons of sugar to Delaney's.

I lean against the counter, placing an order for delivery from my favorite bakery as the coffee cools to a drinkable temperature. Ignoring all the other notifications on my phone, I hit order and take a tentative sip of coffee.

I let Delaney sleep for another five minutes before waking her with a kiss. She groans as she wakes, yawning and rubbing her eyes. I stare at her, drinking in every detail, possessiveness and love rising fast in me. It's impossible to deny my feelings for her. I don't even try.

"Morning, pretty girl," I say softly, leaning down to kiss her again.

She sighs against my mouth, kissing me back sleepily. "Good morning, Daddy," she whispers, making me groan and my cock stand to attention. I pull away, and she smirks, absolutely aware of what she does to me.

"Get out of bed and drink your coffee before I make sure you don't leave those sheets for a full day," I tell her, need clawing at me. I'm already planning what I want to do to her when she gets home tonight. Because this is her home now as much as it is mine. Wherever I am, she belongs.

She stretches, arching her back and pushing out her tits, making my cock harder and my mouth water as she gets out of bed. Taking the coffee from me, she sips it and moans, and I give her a look that makes her giggle.

Just as I'm about to tell her off for driving me out of my mind with need for her when we definitely don't have time for me to act on it, there's a knock at the door.

"Food's here," I tell her, and she grins, following me to the door as I thank the delivery driver, giving him a good tip and taking the paper bag full of pastries.

We sit side by side at the dining room table, coffee and pastries shared between us, and though they're delicious, I'm far more interested in watching Delaney eat. The way her throat bobs as she swallows, her tongue darting out to catch the crumbs on her lips, the happy sighs and moans as she enjoys the food. She's fucking mesmerizing.

I rip my gaze away from her, deciding to tackle the notifications on my phone. There's a text from Trent that I read out loud—an invite to a halloween party at his club, Neon's Bar, in two week's time.

"Do you want to go, pretty girl?" I ask, setting my phone back down.

Delaney considers, chewing a bite of croissant. "Do you want me to?" she asks nervously.

I pin her with a look. "Yes, baby, I want you to come with me. I never want you to leave my side. But if you don't want to go, we won't go. Simple as that."

She blushes, her eyes softening. "Will you dress up with me?" she hedges, a teasing note in her tone.

I furrow my brow. "Maybe," I say, because I'd do pretty much anything she asked of me, but dressing up in a costume isn't particularly my idea of fun. Seeing her dressed up, however … fuck, I love that idea.

"Yes," she says, nodding. "If you're sure it's okay, I'd love to go with you."

I smile at her and type out a reply to Trent that we'll be there as we finish breakfast.

"I'm gonna be late for work," she complains as she notices the time, hopping out of her seat to rush to get ready. I do my best not to distract her as she gets her stuff together, no matter how much I want to pin her to a wall and kiss her.

"I'll have my driver drop you off, baby," I call out to her, sending a message to my driver to ask him to do just that.

She thanks me, bag in her hand, as we say goodbye. I walk her to the door, promising to pick her up from work later and take her to dinner.

I watch as she leaves until the car drives away, then turn and get myself ready for the day, too.

I'm in my home office, drinking my second cup of coffee as I prepare for meetings when my phone starts to ring. I groan, setting my mug down when I read the name on the screen.

Adrian fucking Findlay.

There's no one I'd rather speak to less, but I know that if I don't answer, he'll just keep calling. I've ignored him long enough, and the man's as persistent as a damn cockroach. Always crawling about where he's not wanted.

"It's too early for your bullshit, Findlay," I say frankly, letting my bitterness seep into my tone. "What do you want?"

"You insult me, Bright," Adrian snaps back, humor in his tone that sets my nerves on edge. "I'm calling to talk business, that's all."

There's something slimy in his words, something that makes my teeth grind together and my hand tense on the edge of the desk.

"How many times do I need to make it clear to you that I have no interest in doing business with you?" I snarl, knuckles going white on the desk. "Stop contacting me, Adrian."

"Not so fast," he says quickly, clearly anticipating me hanging up. "You're going to want to listen to what I have to say."

I sincerely doubt that I have any interest in anything this man has to say, but there's a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that keeps me on the phone.

"You have thirty seconds," I allow, already regretting my leniency.

"Agree to sell me that property for two million," Adrian repeats the same lowball offer he's given me a dozen times.

That property is not for sale, and even if it was, it's worth far more than the insulting offer Adrian Findlay is giving me.

"As I have said before—" I begin to argue, but he cuts me off.

"You will sell it to me, or you'll regret it," he growls, his tone turning far darker and more sinister than I've ever heard it before.

Anger whips through me. Is he threatening me?

"I don't do deals with assholes with no morals," I snap, hanging up before he can say another word.