Page 37 of Filthy Devil

I don’t get the chance to ask him what exactly that means. I feel like I need clarification, lots of clarification, but I don’t get that. Instead, he drops his hands, shifts his face so that his lips brush mine, and then reclaims my hand and turns toward the building, tugging me behind him.

We walk into the room, and I’m immediately assaulted by the darkness of the space and the room in general. This is not what I had imagined. I can’t really remember the times I visited my mother at her clubhouse, but I feel like I would have locked this memory away in my pocket if it was anything like this.

The room is dark. The walls are painted black. That’s how dark the space is. And I’m not sure what I expected to see hanging on said walls, but it wasn’t black-and-white photos of motorcycles framed with honey-colored wooden frames.

My god, it’s sexy.

Although the black-and-white photo part shouldn’t surprise me, considering the strip club was all black-and-white photos. There are two pool tables to the side of the room, both with dark-blue felt. There is even a supple leather sofa against a wall and several pub tables with chairs along the sides of the room.

The middle is completely clear, almost like it’s meant to be a dance floor. But when my gaze scans the room and lands on the bar, my breath hitches. The top is a deep, rich wood that is shiny and spotless. Behind the bar are wooden shelves that hold dozens of colorfully displayed bottles of alcohol.

Everything in this place is rich and masculine. I love it. “Did you decorate?” I ask, still taking it all in.

Feeling the warmth from Nash’s hand on the small of my back, I tear my eyes from the room and look over my shoulder back to him. He searches my gaze with his own. Then his lips slowly curve up into a smile.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I did.”

It’s my turn to smile. “I can’t wait to see your house. I bet it’s fantastic.”

He chuckles, his eyes lighting up and sparkling as he watches me. “Yeah, it’s good. First place I ever put any real effort into. Never cared before.”

Dipping his chin, he touches his mouth to mine. Then he straightens before he guides me down the main hallway, past an office, and straight to the door at the back end of the hallway.

He opens it and walks inside, stepping to the side to let me pass.

His room is heaven.

I cannot believe that this is real and that a woman didn’t do this. His walls are painted light gray, but his bedspread is a deep hunter-green and velvet with tobacco-colored pillows.

There is one huge print hanging above the bed. It’s a skeleton riding a motorcycle. The headboard is a dark wood, with a matching nightstand, and directly across from there is a dresser with a television hanging above it on the wall.

“Are you sure you did all of this on your own?” I turn to face him.

He’s watching me, his back leaning against the door. He pushes off the door, closes the distance between us, and wraps his fingers around the side of my throat. His thumb slides up the center of my throat, and then he leans forward and touches his lips to mine, but he doesn’t kiss me.

“I decorated it myself, sweetheart, and if you want to change anything, then you just do that.”

I melt.

NASH

Lifting my head,I take a step backward. My eyes focused on her. I’m ready to christen this fucking place right here and right now. She slides her tongue along her bottom lip, then sinks her teeth into her flesh as she looks back at that bed.

I imagine her laid out completely naked on that velvet blanket. I want it. Right fucking now. As if she can read my mind, I watch as she takes a step backward, then another. She begins to strip. It’s not much of a show, but it’s fucking everything.

She lifts her shirt off, pulling it over her head before she tosses it on the floor, then her bra is discarded. Next, she shimmies off her shorts and panties and kicks off her shoes. I don’t move or speak because what she does next genuinely surprises me.

I watch as she climbs onto the bed, her body sliding across the velvet blanket. She’s sitting up, facing me. Her thighs spread as slowly as honey, giving me the perfect view of her pussy.

One of her elbows is on the bed, propping her up in a way where her back is arched, and I can see every inch of her.Watching her, I let out a groan when her fingers slip down the middle of her chest and her belly and then dip between her legs.

They glide through her folds once, twice, three times. With a grunt, I shrug out of my cut, laying it down across the top of the dresser before I kick each one of my boots off. I don’t take my eyes off hers.

There is nowhere else in the world I would rather look right now. My entire focus is on her and her fingers moving between her legs. I swear to fuck, it’s absolutely amazing in every fucking way.

Reaching behind my head, I grip my shirt in between my shoulder blades and tug it off, tossing it somewhere on the floor. I don’t look to see where it lands. I can’t. As I move toward the bed, I unbutton my jeans and shove them down, along with my boxers, before I step out of them.

I’m hard and ready for her. Curling my fingers around my cock, I gently stroke myself as I move closer to her. Standing at the side of the bed, I stroke myself two more times. I can’t stand it much longer. If I continue to watch her and jack my cock, I’m going to come all over her instead of inside of her.

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