Page 10 of Filthy Devil

I’ve created a mess for myself that I think is unfixable.

Closing my eyes, I turn my body to the side and stare at the wall. There are no windows in here. No natural light. Just a lamp beside the bed and an overhead light and fan combo.

I’m not sure when it happens, but eventually, exhaustion takes over, and I’m able to fall asleep… or pass out. I’m not sure which one it is. But I sleep so hard that when I open my eyes, I can’t remember where I am.

Pushing up to sitting, I glance around the little room, and it all comes back to me. I sold myself for the mere price of room and board. Then, this hot biker took me, killed a guy in front of me, and brought me to a strip club.

I’m stupid.

Really freaking stupid. I cannot believe I threw away my life like this. That I was willing to just sell myself to the lowest bidder. Because it sure as shit wasn’t the highest bidder. I feel like had I searched around a little more, I could have found a more lucrative deal for myself. I really screwed myself over, which isn’t a surprise, not really, anyway.

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I shuffle into the bathroom and take care of my needs before I chance taking a peek at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes widen at the sight of myself.

My hair is a ratted mess from sleep, with no comb and no conditioner. Good god. Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out slowly, then turn toward the bedroom. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing here today, but at the same time, I know I can’t stay in this room.

I’m hungry.

Really hungry.

Wrapping my fingers around the doorknob, I wonder if it’s locked. I don’t know how he would lock me in, but maybe he did. Then I wonder if strip clubs even have food anywhere. I’ve never been to one, so I have no idea. Guess I’m about to find out.

Tugging on the door, I’m a little surprised when it actually opens. The little hallway is empty when I step out. Empty and dark. I’m not even sure what time it is. There are no windows anywhere, so I have no idea if the sun is even out.

I take one step, then another, but pause at the open door that’s just a few feet away from the room I just left.

Nash is sitting behind a desk, his head leaning backward as he slumps in the chair. His eyes are closed, and his lips are parted slightly. There’s an empty bottle of Crown on his desk, and his hands are laced and resting on his stomach. He’s fast asleep.

Taking a step backward, I freeze when I hear his rough, sleepy voice. “Where you goin’, babe?” he asks.

My entire body freezes. Slowly, he opens one eye, turning his head slightly as he opens his other eye and flicks his gaze to meet mine. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know where I’m going, but I respond anyway.

“I was going in search of food.”

I watch as he shifts in his seat, then places his hands on his thighs as he lets out a soft grunt and rises to his feet. Pressing my lips together, I try not to laugh. He stops, his eyes widen, and then he lets out another grunt.

“You laughin’ because I’m an old fuck who makes noises when he stands?” he asks.

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I can’t help my smile. “Yeah, but it’s cute.”

“Well, fuck,” he snaps. “I’m not just an old fuck. I’m a cute old fuck, which means I’m on the verge of death’s door.”

Shaking my head, I take a step backward as he approaches. I want to reach out and touch him or maybe have him touch me. Feel his fingers skim my skin, his palm cupping my cheek while his eyes search mine.

“You’re not that old,” I state.

He snorts, then brushes past me. Flicking my gaze to his ass, I can’t help but stare at it as he walks away. I’ve never been one of those girls who was into men’s asses, but I think I just never saw the right one before.

Because this man’s ass makes me want to reach out and grab it. It looks rock hard. I think I could probably bounce a quarter off it if I tried. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I run them back and forth over my flesh as I tilt my head to the side and freely ogle.

“I’m old, babe. It’s cool,” he calls out.

I’m not paying attention to the path we’re taking or where we’re going. I’m too focused on his ass. When he turns left, I do as well and am surprised to realize we’re in an industrial kitchen.

“Wow,” I breathe, tearing my gaze from his ass long enough to look around the space.

There is shiny stainless steel everywhere. It’s nicer than any restaurant I’ve ever seen. Without a word, he moves toward a gigantic stainless steel refrigerator. I watch as he tugs the door open, then turns his head and looks over to me.

“What do you want?”

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