Filthy Devil (Dark Horse MC #6)

Chapter 32

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

NASH

Feeling the front of her body pressed against my back, I guide the bike through the dark side streets. James’s hands slide down my chest before they grip my belt. Then her fingers work my buckle, and one of her hands slips beneath my jeans. When her fingers curl around my cock, I know I need to pull over—immediately.

The road is dark and empty, exactly what I was hoping when I used this route to the restaurant. It takes a few minutes longer to go this way, but the road is much more isolated. And I’m fine with taking a few minutes longer as long as we’re alone.

Once I pull the bike over to the side of the road, James slides her hands from my pants. That’s when I turn around in my seat to face her. I don’t bother putting my dick away, mainly because I’m going to be using it here in just a few seconds.

Leaning back against the handlebars of my bike, I reach for her. Thankfully, she scoots forward, lifting the skirt of her dress to her hips. Even though it’s dark, I can still see her black panties against her creamy skin, hiding exactly what I want.

“Move your panties to the side, sweetheart. I want to fuck you while you’re wearing them.”

“You’re so nasty,” James whispers.

“Damn fucking right I am.”

She does what I ask, shimmying her skirt up even higher, then she shifts her panties to the side before moving forward so she’s straddling my hips and her pussy is aligned with the head of my cock.

Slowly, she sinks down along the length of my cock, taking me fully inside of her without a single word. Our eyes are connected, and even in the dark, I can see her—all of her. She gives that to me, my woman.

My fingers grip her waist as I keep her seated along my length. Closing my eyes, I try not to move at all, knowing that I’m way too close to losing my load any fucking second. As much as I want to come right now, there’s no way I could leave her hanging like that.

“God, you feel so good,” James whispers, shifting her face forward so she can touch her lips to mine.

And she rides me just like that. Her lips are touching mine, the kiss not deepening as her hips roll, and she fucks me—expertly as only she can. Sliding my hands up her sides, I wrap my arms around her back. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she breathes against my lips, harder and faster as she climbs higher and higher.

Gliding my hands down to her ass, I grip her there tightly, spreading her cheeks slightly as she continues to move. Fuck, I’m seconds from exploding inside of her. Then James shifts her head back slightly so she can look into my eyes again.

“I’m going to come, Nashville,” she whispers, her voice breathy and sexy as fuck.

Gripping her ass harder, knowing that my fingertips are going to leave bruising there, I urge her body to move faster. She does. But she also grinds her clit against my pelvis harder. Letting out a groan, I can’t do anything but stay as still as possible, or I’m going to come before she does.

Fuck me.

And she does— hard .

It’s fucking perfect, just like she is.

When she comes, she lets out a gasp before her entire body freezes. Her muscles seem to lock into place, the expression on her face frozen as she sits perfectly still. I can’t let her just sit like that on top of me, though.

I am so fucking close to my own orgasm that I physically cannot let her bask in this moment. I feel like I’m about to lose my goddamn mind. Using my grasp on her ass, I move her the way I need, just enough to send me over my own edge.

And it does. And she does. I feel her pussy continuing to pulse around me, milking my cum from my cock. And when my balls draw up and my lower back tingles, I know it’s time. My orgasm rolls through me like the sweetest fucking thing on this goddamn earth.

James slides her hands from my shoulders to my chest, her gaze still focused on mine. Neither of us speaks, our eyes locked on one another’s, nothing but the wind whirling around us and the sound of the cicadas in the distance.

“Fuck me, James,” I groan.

She laughs softly, the wind carrying her laughter away with it. “I already did,” she rasps before she leans forward and touches her mouth to mine. Her tongue slides across the seam of my lips, then slips inside of me. She tastes me, and I her, wishing I could taste every inch of her instead of just her mouth.

Breaking the kiss, she gives me a grin, then starts to move off me, but I don’t let her, at least not yet. Gripping her ass a little tighter, I clear my throat as I watch her for a long moment.

“Nobody will touch you, not ever again, James. I swear that shit to you on my life. You aren’t theirs to have because you belong to me.”

Her lips curve up into a small smile. “I love you, Nash. Every single part of you.”

“Yeah,” I grunt. “Love you, too, sweetheart. Which is why nothing will ever fucking touch you again. Now let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”

She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, then slides off me. I hate the loss of her, wishing that her warm wet heat could have stayed right where I fucking wanted her, but we can’t ride on my bike to town with her on my dick. At least not without some practice first.

A few moments later, we’re back on the road. James is curled against my back, her arms wrapped around me, and I swear to fuck I feel like I could climb a goddamn mountain right now.

Pulling the bike into the parking lot, I climb off, then help James off as well, keeping her hand in mine as we move toward the restaurant. I clock the car instantly but don’t say anything to James.

That motherfucker in the suit is here. He didn’t follow us. I would have noticed a car on that deserted road we took, but he’s here, and I have a feeling that our meeting is going to happen sooner rather than later.

I wish I could send James away. I don’t want her to be involved in this shit for a minute longer than she has to be. But in this life, in this world, we don’t always get to choose that kind of shit.

JAMES

The moment we walk into the restaurant, I know there is an issue. Something is wrong. Nash’s body stiffens, and he doesn’t relax. Not when the hostess greets us, not when she guides us to our table, and not when she hands us our menus and walks away.

I open my mouth to ask him what’s wrong when a shadow appears over us. Slowly, I turn my head, tilting it back as I look up at the reason Nash’s entire demeanor changes.

The man in the suit stands next to our table. I don’t say a single word to him, not that I think he wants me to say anything, because he isn’t even looking at me. His focus is on Nash and only Nash.

“May I?” he asks.

Nash shifts in his seat, trying to keep a calm persona, but I can tell he’s slightly rattled. He wasn’t expecting to see this man here. We were going to have dinner together, and this was definitely not anticipated.

Sucking in a breath, I hold it for a moment, then let it out slowly when Nash tells him to go ahead and sit down. A few moments later, a waiter appears to take our drink orders. The silence continues until drinks are brought to the table.

I ordered a water, the suit a glass of red wine, and Nash, his normal Crown. I sit quietly and wait for the men to say whatever it is they have on their minds.

Well, really, whatever this suit has on his mind because Nash is pretty clear with what he wants, and that’s nothing to do with this asshole.

“I was supposed to see you walk through the door, and I thought this would be a better situation. A little less formal, a little more relaxed.”

Nash snorts but doesn’t say anything, and my gaze flicks between them as I wait for whatever it is that’s going to go down.

“Our organizations have worked peacefully together on and off for years, Nashville. I am just hoping to continue that,” the suit says.

Nash leans back in his chair, his gaze cutting to the suit, but the look on his face is clearly not a happy one.

“How long you been part of your organization?” Nash asks.

The suit clears his throat, and he places his forearms on the table. I can tell he’s going to say something that Nash isn’t going to like. I can’t imagine he’d say much that Nash would like anyway.

“Long enough,” the suit murmurs.

“What’s your name, Suit?” Nash asks.

“Gil,” he murmurs.

Nash chuckles. “Fuck, your parents seriously hated you.”

He snorts. “No shit. Named after my grandfather.”

“Gil,” Nash begins. “How long have you been with the Southern Mafia?”

Gil clears his throat. He places his palms on the table and then leans forward. His gaze searches Nash’s, then he flicks his attention to me for just a moment before he focuses back on Nash.

“Since the day I was born.”

Nash chuckles. “Good answer, son. But you have to know that just because we’ve had a long-standing relationship with the Southern Mafia, it doesn’t mean we want to continue that. I don’t. Neither does my son.”

I hold my breath for a moment, then let it out slowly as they continue. I don’t want to be here at the table with them. I don’t want to listen to this conversation. I would rather be at home watching trash television.

“You may not want it, which you have made abundantly clear. However,” he begins, “we’re the original members, and we like working with the Dark Horse MC.”

“Are you telling me that the other members have been taken care of?” Nash asks.

“Thanks to your club, they have. We’re from underground, and we are ready to get back out there. We are the real Southern Mafia.”

I wish that, at this moment, I had popcorn. This water is not cutting it at all whatsoever. Gil chuckles, then he clears his throat, his gaze flicking between us again to land on Nash. It’s clear that he doesn’t want me here, but Nash hasn’t sent me away, so I’m staying right where I am with my water and, unfortunately, no popcorn.

“You want my woman, but in order for me to keep her out of your hands, you want the Dark Horse MC to do something for you which would include, but not be exclusive to, kidnapping women and transporting them.”

He chuckles, lifting his arms over his head as he fake stretches. I watch him as Nash brings his glass to his lips and takes a sip of his Crown. I don’t understand how both of these men can be so cool, calm, and collected.

This seems like a really, really big deal.

“I don’t want James. It’s obvious that you’re together. That was the other people who were running the Southern Mafia. We don’t want anyone who isn’t fully accepting of the contract they sign.”

“But?” Nash asks.

He smiles, dipping his chin slightly. “But she did sign a contract. And if we just let her walk away, it looks bad as fuck.”

Nash leans forward slightly. “She’s not going to be going anywhere. No matter what you think or say.”

Gil jerks his chin in the air. Then, he clears his throat before he speaks. “The only way to keep her completely safe is if you agree to my terms.”

I wait for Nash to blow up completely, but he doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head to the side. “Well, the Dark Horse MC isn’t going to help you with a fucking thing.”

“Then I’ll be taking James with me.”

My breath hitches. These two men are sitting in front of me, acting like I’m not even here. Acting like I’m not a human but, instead, a commodity to trade among one another. I hate it. And I know that Nash doesn’t see me that way, but it doesn’t change how this all makes me feel.

Unable to sit here and listen to another second of it, I decide to excuse myself. I need a few minutes to breathe.

Making my way toward the bathroom, I stop in the hallway and look over my shoulder at the table. The urge to flee takes over. I know that Nash isn’t going to do anything to me. He wouldn’t hand me back over to these assholes, but I panic.

And when I panic.

I run.

Even if it’s fucking stupid of me.

I take off.