Page 51 of Start A War (Saint View Psychos)

I didn’t stick around for a confirmation. I ran into the house, desperate to be alone.

The house was silent, as one would expect at this early time of morning, and I pulled my heels off to take the stairs two at a time on bare feet. The moment I got into my suite, I closed and locked the door, leaning against it hard, slightly winded either from the short sprint or maybe just from the night overall.

With my heartrate slowing now that there wasn’t six feet of gorgeous, rugged, clearly experienced man sitting next to me, I made my way to my closet, depositing my heels in their designated spot. At the end of the large space, my full-length mirror displayed my reflection.

My eyes were big, and my auburn hair was wild and messed up, like I’d had a great night of sex.

You wish, the throbbing in my clit practically yelled.

I stripped the black dress off, leaving it on a puddle in the floor, unsure whether I’d want to keep it when it was really just not me.

My bra and panties followed, until I stood naked. I quickly turned away, not wanting to see my reflection. I’d heard what Rebel had said, about being envious of my curves, but when I stood in front of a mirror, all I saw were the parts of me I didn’t like. The cellulite. The tummy rolls. The wobble in my thighs.

I turned off the light and tucked myself into bed, but my brain wouldn’t shut off. It kept playing scenes from the night, always ending in the imagined one where I kneeled at Nash’s feet, pure desire in his eyes.

I ran my hands over my body, touching my full breasts and squeezing my nipples. Pleasure shot through me and I worked the tips into stiff peaks that were ripe for his mouth.

If I closed my eyes and let myself float back to the club, I could almost see Nash leaning forward and yanking down the front of my dress to expose my breasts. They grew heavy in my hands, needy and desperate for his touch.

My core ached.

I gave myself up to the fantasy and leaned into it.

Nash’s cock was as big as Rebel had said it would be. Thick and hard, not because of the scent of sex in the air around us or the performers in their cages. But because I leaned over his lap and wrapped my lips around the blunt head.

His hands dove into my hair, and he murmured his approval. “Take me deep, Bliss. Let me feel you.”

I squeezed my nipples hard enough to mimic clamps, then dropped one hand to my clit.

I spread my legs. In the fantasy, I did the same.

Hands moved up my thighs, another man settling in behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to find War staring at me with an intensity that burned my body alive. With no care that we were in a room full of people or that I had my lips wrapped around Nash’s cock, War rucked my skirt up around my waist and lowered my panties.

His eyes flared with desire as he took a handful of my ass, while his other hand spread my folds. “Look at your pretty cunt, baby girl. You’re wet and dripping, just creaming yourself for my dick.”

His words in my head were coarse and dirty, but when I touched myself, pushing my fingers between my folds, I was soaked.

It was almost too much to bear. I was already right on the verge after hours of sex around me. Putting War and Nash together in a fantasy was too much. I rubbed my clit and rode my fingers. I added a third, trying to emulate the thickness I craved, and eventually, I pulled my vibrator out of my top drawer and let that take the place of my fingers.

I pressed the vibrator against my clit before sliding it lower to fill the ache inside me. My hips bucked right off the bed as an orgasm barreled down on me. It was too quick, but I couldn’t bring myself to drag it out.

And Lord knew, I was used to a quick orgasm. I’d become a pro at it, quietly making myself come after every time Caleb and I had sex and he rolled over and went to sleep.

The moment the orgasm faded, embarrassment washed over me. Beneath the sheets, I was a sticky mess of my own making.

“You’re an idiot, Bliss,” I murmured to myself, dragging myself out of bed for a shower even though exhaustion was setting in.

I had no business fantasizing over anyone but Caleb. I was still engaged. The man’s ring had been on my finger when I’d thrust it inside myself, desperate to fill the ache another man had woken up in me. Not just one man but two. I barely even knew War, and yet I’d let him into the most intimate parts of me during the fantasy. Nash was like a brother to me. Thinking of him in any other way would cause me nothing but complete and utter mortification.

But Caleb and I were done. The way he’d looked at me while he’d fucked Lucinda still sent chills down my spine. And owning Psychos made leaving him possible.

I’d have my own money. Not just the pittance the childcare center paid me. But real money.

Money meant opportunities.

Options.

Money meant I would never be forced into a marriage I didn’t want, solely for the financial security the man could provide me.

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