Page 73 of Filthy Devil

The roar that escapes my lips bounces off the walls around us. Fuck. So goddamn good. James gently collapses against my chest, nuzzling her face into my neck. Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her even closer to my body as we both catch our breaths.

“I meant it, James,” I whisper as my fingers gently glide up and down her back.

My side is screaming in pain, but I wouldn’t push her off me right now if there were a fucking machine gun outside dumping bullets into the front of my house. James lifts her face from my neck, her eyes finding mine when she does.

“I meant it, too, Nashville. I think I fell in love with you about the time I decided I had to stay because there was nowhere else I’d rather be.”

My lips twitch into a smirk. “Sweetheart, I fell in love with you about the moment my flashlight caught your look of determined resignation in the back of the semitrailer. Knew you were special. Knew you were something and knew that I had to keep you.”

I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and gently pull her face closer to mine. Her lips touch mine, but I don’t deepen the kiss. Instead, I begin to speak, telling her the whole fucking truth.

“Even though I fucking knew you were too beautiful, too smart, and too fucking young for me. I still had to keep you. Even though I know you’re going to fucking hate me one day for wasting your good years on a sorry sonofabitch like me.”

“Nashville,” she whispers in protest.

“It’s all the truth, and you know it,” I say, interrupting her.

She shakes her head, sitting up before she rolls off me. I watch as she lies on her back beside me, but I can’t let her be this close and not touch her. Even though my side burns in protest, I gather her in my arms and roll her a bit closer to me.

Turning my head, I touch my lips to the top of her head. “Love you, sweetheart. Get some sleep.”

She hums, her body relaxing. Running my fingers up and down her arm, I let out a heavy sigh. I have so much shit rolling around inside of my head. The strip club has been okay, but I need to spend some more time down there. Since my stabbing, I haven’t been able to do my normal work.

The clubhouse is burned to a crisp, and I’ve got more people scattered around this fucking town than we’ve ever had before. I need to get this shit handled, get my club back together, and get everyone under one roof again.

Then I need to figure out my shit.

Because I’m not sure being the president of the Corpus club is it any longer. I’m not sure I want to go back to being the president of the original charter, either. For the first time in my whole fucking life, I don’t know what I want.

Except in one area, I’m one-hundred-percent certain I know exactly who I want by my side while I figure it out.

James.

JAMES

Stretching,I roll to the side, reaching out across the sheets, but there is nobody there. Said sheets are also cold. Pushing myself up to sitting, I lean my back against the headboard and look around the bedroom.

Like everything else in this house, it’s decorated spectacularly. It’s equal parts masculine and sexy all rolled into one. Natural colors mixed with leather. I love everything about it, and I know that I could never duplicate anything like this if I tried. I’m not fashionable enough.

A throat clears in the doorway. Shifting my attention toward said throat clearing, I smile at the man who darkens the doorway. He’s watching me, his lips curved up into a small smirk, his blue eyes staring at me, his expression soft.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.”

My own lips smile. “Morning,” I whisper.

My voice sounds hoarse and rough. “Get dressed. Let’s go for a ride.”

“A ride?” I ask.

He hums, pushes off the doorway, and moves toward me. I watch as he makes his way to the side of the bed and sinks down on the mattress at my hip. He reaches toward me, cupping my cheek. I feel his thumb slide across my bottom lip as his gaze searches mine.

“A ride,” he says with a single nod. “Get dressed.”

I watch as he stands and walks out of the room without a word. I don’t know what he’s got planned for the day, but it’s something, and I’m far too curious. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I stand and hurry toward the bathroom to shower and change.

What feels like just minutes later but is probably more than forty-five of them, I’m dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and have my hair up in a messy bun. After tugging on my riding boots, a gift from Shawn, I make my way into the living room.

Nash has his back to me as he leans against the counter. Flicking my gaze to his ass, I take a moment to ogle before I move toward him. When I’m close enough, I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek against his leather vest.

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