Page 82 of Filthy Devil

“Let’s go out to dinner, sweetheart,” he offers.

I almost tell him no, but when my stomach growls, I know I can’t say anything except yes. My hand drops, releasing his wrist from my grasp. He takes a step backward, his eyes searching mine.

When he clears his throat, he gives me a smile. “Do you need to change?”

I look down at my outfit then bring my gaze back up to meet his. “Do I need to dress up?” I ask.

I’m wearing a pair of wide-leg jeans with holes in the knees and fraying at the ends. My T-shirt is a bit oversized, but I’ve got the front tucked in, and on my feet is a pair of white Adidas tennis shoes.

I’m dressed comfortably because my day wasn’t anything exciting. I hung around the house, and I made dessert for after dinner. Even though at the time, I had no idea what we were going to have for said dinner.

“You don’t need to dress up. You look perfect just as you are,” he murmurs.

But I can tell that he wants me to dress up. Rising to my toes, I touch my lips to his. “Then I’ll get dressed. Stay here. Give me five minutes.”

I spin around and run toward the bedroom, closing the door behind me, and then I strip out of my clothes. A few moments later, I’m wearing a brand-new black dress that I bought a few days ago.

It’s nothing special, just a thick-shoulder-strapped, scoop-neck, tight dress that ends right at midthigh. Then I slip my feet into a new pair of strappy sandals that are metallic gold. I don’t know why I bought them, other than they made me feel leggy and beautiful.

I don’t bother with makeup or even brushing my hair because I know he’ll want to go on the bike, so hair brushing is worthless. I make my way back into the living area but stop when I hear Nash on the phone.

Initially, I don’t know who he’s talking to, but then I realize that it’s Bugsy and Rev. I can hear their voices through thespeaker of his phone. Stopping at the entry of the living room, I lean against the jamb and listen. I know I shouldn’t, but I do.

“So you’re going to meet with the fucking Southern Mafia tomorrow?” one of them asks.

I can’t differentiate between them, but I know it’s Bugsy and Rev when they’re on the phone like this, and I can’t see their faces. But just by their voices, I have no idea which one is which. So I just listen.

“I am,” Nash announces. “I’m going to hear him out, and then I’m going to find out where they hide underground and eradicate them all. Every single fucking one of them. I am done with this shit. I was done with it months ago, but I’m really done with it now.”

“Because of your woman?” one of them asks.

Nash snorts. “Because of my woman, because they burned down my clubhouse, because they’re dirty motherfuckers I’ve been tired of dealing with for the past three fucking decades.”

“Do you need backup?” one voice asks.

Nash must sense my presence. He looks over his shoulder at me, his eyes scanning down my body before he lifts them to meet my own, and I watch as his lips curve up into a smile at the same time his brows rise.

“Ready for dinner?” I call out.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Nash announces before touching the screen of his phone and shoving the device in his pocket.

He turns to face me wholly and moves toward me, then stops directly in front of me. “Fuck me, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Guess I can’t take you to a bar tonight, can I? Not fucking dressed like that.”

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I try to hide my smile. Obviously, I’ve done something right when it comes to my outfit because I can tell he likes it. “I honestly don’t care where we go,” I whisper. “We can stay home for all I care.”

His smile is big, his eyes searching mine for a long moment. “Oh, we’re going somewhere,” he rasps. “And I’ll be fucking you before I can make it home.”

A shiver of desire slides up my spine at his words. Holy fucking shit. I want that. He could fuck me every second of every day, and it wouldn’t be enough. Everything about this man makes me want him—every single minute of every fucking day.

“Want to take care of that right now?” I ask, my voice super breathy.

“You know I do,” he murmurs. “But I’m going to fuck you somewhere along the way, then I’m going to fuck you somewhere along the way home.”

My entire body jerks thinking about him fucking me… anywhere, let alone somewhere along the way to dinner and on the way home. I can’t wait. I’m ready to leave right this second. Right this damn second. I can’t wait to feel him inside of me.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

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