Filthy Devil (Dark Horse MC #6)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER

NINE

NASH

Making my way into the bar from my office, I look around and notice that the clubhouse is a bit light tonight. Our club isn’t like the others in the Dark Horse MC. We’re made up of mostly old fucks who are ready to retire. But then we got bored and thought opening a strip club would be the best way to retire.

I have to admit, minus a little drama here and there with the dancers, it’s been a lot more relaxing than when I was actually running the original charter of the MC. The strip club is fun, mostly a bunch of paperwork and shit, but still fun.

The bartender is a kid who wants to prospect for the club. He’s only eighteen, and while we don’t really do the whole prospect thing here, I thought it would be nice to have a few kids do just that.

Mainly because none of us wants to bartend and sweep up around the clubhouse, but also, it’s nice to have some men we can teach shit to.

Our kids are all running their own clubs and don’t need us up in their shit.

Unless it’s like Atomic and King, who definitely needed me in their shit to straighten them out. Now they know what they’re doing, and they are on it. They won’t need me again for a good long while. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

Tommy G is sitting at the end of the bar, a beer in one hand and an empty shot glass in the other. He’s our resident bar prop in the club. He doesn’t fuck the whores, he doesn’t go on rides, and he doesn’t go to the strip club. He sits at the corner of the bar, day in and day out.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, walking up to the bar beside him.

He smirks, then lifts his bottle to his lips and takes a long pull. “Seems like you got everyone interested in the new snatch you brought in. They’re all down at the strip club.”

My main men, Bugsy and the rest of the crew who went to get her, know that she’s off fucking limits. They also know that I haven’t decided what I’m going to do with her yet, so I can’t imagine why the fuck the rest of these guys would be going down to the strip club to see a whole lot of nothing.

Instead of standing around and questioning an old drunk, I turn around and walk out of the door, heading straight for my bike. Climbing on, I start the engine and roar out of the clubhouse parking lot. Rocks, sand, and gravel fly all around me, but I don’t stop or slow down.

I want to know what the fuck is going on, and I’m not going to figure it out sitting around a nearly empty clubhouse drinking beer. I hadn’t realized how late it was getting. It’s already dark as I approach the strip club.

The lights shine brighter than anything else on this street. We made sure that our club stood out more than any other one on the block because we’re the Dark Horse MC, and we don’t do anything half-assed.

Pulling my bike into my designated spot, I kill my engine and climb off before I head into the club through the back entrance. The music is playing. It’s strong rhythmic beats that move through your entire body and make you think about sex, about needing sex, about having sex. Which is exactly what we want to make the money flow here.

As I walk toward the main dance area, my gaze scans the stage, and I’m glad to see that James’s tits are not on display up there. Then I search the audience, and there isn’t any sign of her there either, or any of my brothers.

Making my way toward the upstairs area, I frown at the sight of the sex room door. It’s closed. I know for a fact that it wasn’t rented out tonight since I’m the one who handles those bookings personally.

My feet quickly carry me to that door, and when I reach out, I don’t open it immediately because I hear voices. Several fucking voices, but only one of those is a laugh that makes my dick twitch.

And instantly, I see red.

Pushing the door open, I walk in and don’t even take in the scene around me. I can’t. I have tunnel fucking vision. Because the only thing that is in front of me that I can focus on is James sitting on a fuck sofa beside Rev.

I can’t see or hear anyone else in the room. The moment I move past the threshold and march toward them, James’s eyes lift and meet mine. She smiles at the sight of me, and for a moment, I forget how completely fucking pissed off I am.

My gaze does not leave hers. It stays connected. As if she can read my mind, she stands and moves through the room and makes her way directly toward me. When she stops in front of me, the rest of the room fades away. There is only her and me, and the red in my vision begins to disappear.

“Hey,” she whispers, placing her palm in the center of my chest.

I don’t know if she touches me there because she wants to keep and hold my attention or if she just wants to touch me. I don’t really give a fuck about the reason, either, because I really like it. So even though I’m not sure what I walked into, and I’m uncertain if I’ll be pissed off or not, I still wrap my fingers around her wrist anyway.

“What the fuck is going on in here, sweetheart?” I ask.

Her eyes widen, then her lips twitch into a smirk. “Bugsy caught me in the hallway after I realized there was no way that I was going to get dinner in that kitchen. He brought me here and had food delivered, and then some of your other friends showed up, and they ordered drinks. We’ve just been chatting.”

Fuck me.

Chatting .

I flick my gaze over her shoulder to Rev, who is leaning back on the sofa, his legs spread and a shit-eating grin on his face. I know he wasn’t up here just chatting about some bullshit.

Apparently, if I don’t stake a claim, there’s a goddamn line for my woman. And even if I’m not ready to call her anything other than that, she is indeed mine. Whether it’s mine for today, mine for now, or mine for motherfucking ever.

She is mine.

JAMES

I’m not sure how it happened, but once the food was delivered, all these old bikers came stomping into this sexy dungeon room and started talking, drinking, and hanging out. Drinks are flowing, but I nurse the one beer I have. I don’t like to drink, so it’s not something I do often.

The man sitting beside me introduces himself as Rev, and I find that he sits a little too close and smiles a bit too widely. He doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable, but it’s clear he is flirting.

Especially when he lifts his arm, drapes it behind the back of the sofa, and starts to stroke my arm. I can’t scoot away from him, though, because another man sits on the other side of me.

If I wanted to keep with my original plan and manipulate a way into one of these men’s good graces to protect myself against whatever the fuck is going to happen to me here, this would be the best place to start…

Except that is the last thing I want. The only thing, the only person I want right now is Nash. And that’s not a manipulation tactic. He’s really who I want. I’m afraid that I fucked it all up, too, by trying to play a game.

“Baby, how about you go over there to that pole and show us exactly what you can offer?” Rev says beside me.

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to figure out how I’m going to get out of this room and not do that. Not only would I probably fall flat on my face if I tried to do anything on that pole, but I am not getting naked for any man in this room.

He leans over a little bit more and starts to whisper something to me when the door flies open. The shadow in the doorway is one that I already recognize. It’s Nash. The room goes quiet, but I forget it’s full of people.

There is only him.

Standing to my feet, I watch as he walks into the room. He doesn’t come to me. No, he wouldn’t. Not in front of these men, probably never. My feet carry me over to him, and immediately, I’m filled with the need to touch him.

I place my hand in the center of his chest and feel his heart beat steadily against my palm. It’s beautiful.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“What the fuck is going on in here, sweetheart?”

He sounds pissed off. Maybe he’s mad he’s missing the party. Maybe it’s because we’re in a sex room. Maybe it’s because he didn’t want me around all his buds. I’m not sure, and right now, I don’t think I care.

Nash wraps his fingers around my wrist the way he does every time I have my hand on his chest. I let out a sigh because this is probably the most comfort I’ve felt in my whole life.

Just his simple touch does that—it comforts me.

I tell him the truth. Bugsy caught me in the hall, he ordered me food, and then all these leather-vested friends of his appeared. When I’m finished telling him, I watch as his gaze flicks over my shoulder, and I know he’s looking at Rev.

“So what the fuck did you chat about?” he asks, his voice so low that I know nobody else heard him.

The conversations resume after the initial surprise of seeing him walk into the room. But I’m under no illusion that they’re not all trying to hear what we’re saying anyway. Men are just as gossipy as women.

“Nothing much. Mostly where I’m from, where they’re all from,” I say with a shrug.

Purposely, I leave out Rev and the naked pole comment, mainly because I don’t think Nash would take that very well. Judging by his wild eyes as he looks around, I’m certain he would not take that well at all.

Worrying my bottom lip, I look up into his eyes. I want so badly to ask him if we can leave, but we aren’t in that place, especially after he caught me trying to play games with him. I wish I could take all of that back.

I feel like the biggest idiot on the planet for that. I wish I could start over. I would never even think about manipulating him in any way, not really. I should have known that he was too smart for that shit.

The other guys… maybe not. But Nash is, without a doubt.

Nash dips his chin in a single nod, and then something happens. Something shifts. He releases his grasp on my wrist and takes a step backward. Without a word, he bends slightly and shoves his shoulder into my stomach before he picks me up off the ground, just like he did in that truck trailer a few days ago.

With a hand on my ass, the other arm wrapped around my thighs, he has me in a fireman’s carry. “Good night, guys,” he calls out.

The other men say good night as well, although I don’t say a word. I don’t even wave. What I do is close my eyes and let out a heavy sigh of contentment. I can smell him—leather and oil, cedarwood, and Nash.

A door slams, and then he slides my body down the front of his. I can feel every hard muscle on my descent. I can’t help but think about that hard muscle naked and pressed against my equally naked body.

When his eyes find mine and my feet touch the floor, I lift my hand and cup his cheek. Scratching my nails against his jaw, I press my lips together and roll them back and forth as I look up at him.