Home > Nash (Dirty Aces MC #3)(11)

Nash (Dirty Aces MC #3)(11)
Author: Lane Hart

“I need your help with something.”

“Okay, sure,” I agree, surprised by his request.

“Tonight,” he adds sternly like he won’t take no for an answer.

“Tonight?” I repeat, turned on even more by that small show of dominance. It’s so unfair that he not only looks like a male model turned bad boy in his leather, but that he could make a command sound so hot that I could never deny him anything. Still, I have to pretend like I won’t bend over backwards to his every whim. “It can’t wait until tomorrow?” I ask.

“No.” His amber gaze holds mine hostage, jaw clenched so tight he may chip a tooth if he doesn’t get his way.

“Fine,” I agree with a sigh, pretending I’m caving in reluctantly when inside I’m thrilled to spend more time with Nash tonight.

Swiveling my legs around to the side of the lounger, I get to my feet and grab my towel and cover up. “Guess I’ll see you around,” I tell the boys.

“Yeah, see you around,” Billy agrees.

“Not if you’re smart,” Nash mutters under his breath before he starts to the gate with me following behind him like a lovesick puppy.

I tell myself that my infatuation with him is just a distraction to try and forget about the man who recently broke my heart. And it feels safe to drool a little over Nash since I’m sure he would never sleep with me or even flirt with me. Actually, I’m surprised he even wants to talk to me.

 

 

Nash

 

 

* * *

 

Fuck me.

My plan to lure Lucy away from the two meatheads worked, but now what am I going to do? I told her I needed her help, so I have about two minutes until we’re inside her apartment when I have to tell her what exactly it is that I need.

To buy a little more time when she goes to unlock her door, I think fast and ask her, “You got any beer?”

“Nope.”

“Then let me grab some from the fridge first,” I suggest before taking off up the steps to my place when she lets herself into the apartment.

As I reach into the fridge to grab a fresh six pack, I’m hit with the all too familiar reminder that the number of beers I can drink in an hour is the same number of men the Aces and I killed just a few weeks ago when we raided Harold Cox’s house.

That’s when an actual job for Lucy comes to me. It’s one that is crazy and a little dangerous, but since I haven’t had any luck finding the family members of the five dead guards, it wouldn’t hurt to have her give it a try. She won’t ever have to know why I’m asking for the addresses. If she asks, I can just lie and say that they were my brothers who died when the Ace of Spades MC came crashing down.

On the way out the door, I stop by the bedroom to grab the printed pages of their obituaries from a drawer in my dresser and take them and the beers downstairs before I chicken out.

Maybe I’m still not thinking clearly after seeing Lucy practically naked in front of those dickheads who were trying their best to get an invitation back to her apartment so they could fuck her. Tomorrow, when I’m more sober, if that’s even a possibility, I’ll probably want to punch myself for sharing these names with her. But tonight? Well, fuck it, I don’t give a shit what I have to do as long as I keep those assholes’ hands off her. Of course they would think Lucy’s an easy target – a new girl who is alone and doesn’t know anyone around here, weighing about as much as a sack of potatoes. One of them could easily overpower her and is way more than she could dream of handling. Two of them together? Fuck, they would put up one hell of a fight for me.

What was she thinking sitting down there talking to those assholes? Was she seriously into one or both of them? Maybe there’s more to the sweet little pixie than meets the eye and she’s actually a freak in bed who enjoys gang bangs.

Heading into her open apartment door that I shut and lock behind me, I plan to take the opportunity to look for clues about the overexcited tiny woman, except that once I’m inside she’s nowhere to be found.

Not surprisingly, her apartment layout is the exact same as mine. You’re practically in the kitchen when you walk in with the bar to the right in front of the fridge and stove, the sink underneath the window looking out at the parking lot. While my apartment is decorated in grays and black, Lucy’s looks like it belongs to a teenage girl. It’s like a rainbow chick bomb detonated and threw up colors everywhere. Over to the left of the entrance is a purple velvet sofa facing a small, blinding yellow entertainment center with a basic television on top of it. There are pink pillow-like cushion seat things tossed on the floor and photos of flowers on the wall that look like exact photographs of the actual flowers in vases that are set all around the apartment, making it smell like a florist shop. Or a funeral. That’s right, my head is in a dark place that always goes back to death.

I’ve just finished my once-over, not finding any whips or chains that point to her being a sex freak when Lucy walks out of the bedroom in pajamas. At first, I’m relieved to see that she’s covered up since the bathing suit showed way too much skin, making me feel like an old pervert every time I snuck a glimpse at her. Not that I wanted to look, but I’m a man and she actually does have a nice pair of tits. They’re not huge ones that would topple her over or anything but just a nice handful. My lecherous eyes seek them out once again, and instantly my cock grows heavy at the sight of her jiggling breasts that are now moving freely, unrestrained under her thin pajama top. There are actual red strawberries placed right over her nipples like they’re begging to be plucked. And her shorts? Well, they’re so tiny and snug against her cunt that they barely cover more than a pair of panties. The bikini may have shown more skin, but these pajamas were made to drive men crazy by invoking thoughts of rolling around in bed and getting our hands underneath them.

“So? What was it you needed my urgent help with?” Lucy asks into the silence while I just stand there staring at her while holding my beer and obituaries. For the first time in weeks, though, I don’t want to drown myself in alcohol or obsess over the deaths of six men. I only want what my hard cock is demanding – that I pick Lucy up and slam her tight, wet pussy down on it over and over again until I come enough times to make up for the past three very, very dry years.

“I need you to…” I just barely catch myself before I finish the sentence with ‘get naked and ride me’ since that would be fucking insane. Divorce paper or not, as stupid as it is, I’m not ready to give up on Ellie just yet. That’s what it feels like I would be doing if I slept with another woman. I still remember our last time before she left me, barely, but I do. It was a week before our last argument and I had come home late from the Aces bar, thinking she was sound asleep. But after I climbed in bed, Ellie leaned over, grabbing a painful handful of my hair and kissing me hard. I knew she was pissed I hadn’t called but only because she missed me and worried about me. So, I put her on her stomach and fucked her into the mattress like she loved as an apology.

I’m not ready to let that memory go just yet. We never had the sweet, making love kind of sex people have in movies and shit. I’m not even sure I’m capable of that kind of intimacy. Maybe that’s why it all fell apart…

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