“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does. Tell me or I won’t have sex with you ever again!”
“Twenty-thousand,” he spits out easier than I expected.
“Holy shit!” I exclaim. “That is a lot of money, Dev! That’s…that’s a down payment on a house you wanted one day…” I say in understanding.
“Making you happy is more important to me than some empty house,” he says. “Besides, we could always get a house later, once you’re a successful hair stylist.”
“I love you,” I tell him.
“I love you too,” he says, grabbing the back of my head to pull me closer so his lips can crash down on mine. When he pulls away too soon, he says, “Although, I have to admit that sometimes I feel like I’m cheating on you when you change your hair color and I’m fucking you from behind…”
“Dev!” I exclaim, slapping his chest.
“You didn’t let me finish!” he huffs. “I was going to say, I feel like I’m cheating…until I look down and then I remember that there’s only one woman with an amazing ass like yours.”
“Isn’t that a sweet sentiment,” I reply sarcastically with a roll of my eyes.
“Enough talking, though,” Devlin says. “I was coerced here with the notion that I would get to fuck your brains out.”
“I think we should set the mood first,” I joke, nodding my head toward his stereo.
“Hard rock?”
“Of course,” I agree with a smile.
“Deal,” Dev replies. Reaching over, he turns on the stereo that still has one of his Wasteland Authority CDs. It comes on playing my favorite song, “Love in the Fast Lane,” the one the band played at the concert while Devlin and I had amazing sex for the very first time.
“Want me to lean on the dresser so you can recreate our first time?” I offer.
“Nah,” Dev says as he climbs on top of me and cups the side of my face. “I would rather look into the eyes of the woman I love while I’m inside of her than pretend you’re the same girl who wouldn’t even tell me her name.”
“I’m Jetta. Jetta James,” I tell him. “And I’m yours.”
“Yes, you are,” he agrees as his mouth moves down my neck. “But one of these days, you’re gonna be Jetta Boyd,” Devlin declares.
I actually believe he’ll make good on that promise too.
* * *
The End
Nash (Book 3)
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue were created from the authors’ imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people or events is coincidental.
The authors acknowledge the copyrighted and trademarked status of various products within this work of fiction.
© 2020 Editor's Choice Publishing
All Rights Reserved.
Only Amazon has permission from the publisher to sell and distribute this title.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editor’s Choice Publishing
P.O. Box 10024
Greensboro, NC 27404
* * *
Edited by Angela Snyder
Cover by Melissa Gill Designs
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WARNING: THIS BOOK IS NOT SUITABLE FOR ANYONE UNDER 18. IT CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND GRAPHIC SEX SCENES.
Synopsis
Whenever Nash Kincaid looks in the mirror, he only sees a monster who ruins lives. Thanks to his involvement with the Dirty Aces MC, there’s so much blood on his hands he’ll never wash them clean again. Violence is just part of the outlaw lifestyle. That’s why he’s not all that surprised when he’s hit with divorce papers three years after his wife walked out on him.
* * *
The last thing Nash needs right now is a nosy new neighbor who refuses to leave him alone. If Lucy knew Nash’s dark secrets, he’s certain that she would run the other way rather than try her best to get into his bed. Thanks to a failed marriage, he knows he can never be the man Lucy needs him to be, not while he’s a member of the MC with a life sentence hanging over his head.
* * *
Lucy Stafford didn’t survive cancer and a cheating boyfriend just to give up on finding happiness. Her only plan for the future is to live each and every day to the fullest by helping others. Not even the grumpy biker who lives upstairs can bring her down, no matter how hard he tries. Lucy made a deal with the devil. So if she wants to stay out of trouble, she’ll have to get on Nash’s good side – if she can find it.
* * *
Nash has convinced himself that the only thing he has in common with Lucy is a broken heart. He refuses to let himself fall for her, only to eventually hurt her or have her bail when his past crimes comes crashing down on him.
* * *
But Lucy has a few secrets of her own – secrets that she hopes will finally prove to Nash that she’s tougher than she looks.
Chapter One
Nash Kincaid
* * *
It’s a beautiful fucking night.
The sky is crystal clear, lit up with twinkling stars. A full moon shines like a beacon, the yellow glow bouncing along the surface of the dark ocean waves. The only sound that can be heard for miles is the whooshing of the wind and the soft crashing of the waves a block away.
I hope I remember it tomorrow. I’m so fucking drunk that the entire scene is swirling around me like I’m on one of those cheap kiddie rides at the carnival.
Rocking back and forth on the heels of my boots, I inhale a deep breath of the salty breeze in between the final swigs from the Heineken bottle clutched in my left hand. Not that I really taste the beer. I’m numb all over, unable to feel anything. Not even the summer heat can touch me up here.
There’s no guilt or remorse, no happiness or sadness in me either. I’m as empty as the glass bottle in my hand. I’m not sure when my soul became so depleted. Could’ve been a steady leaking drip over time or a sudden gash ripped through it. Doesn’t matter because the result is the fucking same. I’ve got nothing left to give, so what’s the point of going through the motions day after day like a goddamn zombie?
Closing my eyes, I try to conjure up something good in my life but come up blank. I see Malcolm with his old lady and his kid, Devlin with his girl, Fiasco up to his usual antics, Wirth with his wrench always working, Silas plotting to blow up shit or whatever violence he finds joy in, and I know I love them all. I love them as my brothers, but it’s not enough. It’s not the kind of love that gets me out of bed in the morning or makes me feel alive. If anything, they all make it harder for me to look at myself in the mirror. I would do anything for my brothers, even kill for them, which I’ve proven. They would do the same for me, I know. But there’s not a damn thing any of them can do to pull me out of the depths of my own misery.