Start a War (Saint View Psychos #1)(39)

“He’s dead. Murdered execution style. Gunshot to the head.”





15





BLISS





I stayed at Psychos until the very last guest left around five in the morning. And then I stood in the parking lot, staring at the black square building, backlit by a rising sun, and saw it in a whole new light.

In the space of one night, it had morphed from a slightly terrifying dive bar to an empire.

One that I owned.

I’d never had control of anything in my life. I’d spent six years bending and breaking beneath my mother’s mood swings and Jerry’s abuse. I’d spent my school years desperately trying to fit with kids who’d grown-up with silver spoons in their mouths. I’d spent my adult life so far cocooned in my father’s wealth, and then Caleb’s.

All of it had come with a price.

All of it had left me weak. Useless. Unable to stand on my own two feet.

“You seem like a woman whose just made a life-changing decision,” Nash mused from his perch on the hood of his Jeep. His long legs dangled over the headlights, and he lay back, resting on his elbows. The morning sunrise kissed his skin, and I tried not to notice how good he looked in it, despite the fact we’d been up all night.

I had no doubt I did not look even half as attractive. My feet ached, and the urge to sleep was there in the back of my mind. It was just held at bay by the pure excitement of everything I’d seen. Everything I owned. Everything I could be.

“I know Axel didn’t want me involved in this. But what you’ve built…”

“Isn’t too shabby for a couple of hood rat kids?”

“Yeah. That.”

I turned away from the building and stood in front of Nash. “Thank you for showing me. And sticking with me all night. I know I was the kid sister cramping your style.”

“You’re fine. I didn’t feel like playing anyway.”

“Do you normally…participate? There were a lot of beautiful women in there…”

His gaze clashed with mine. “There were. Sometimes I join in. Sometimes I just watch.”

My breath caught in my throat, because for a second, I had a full-blown mental image of Nash in the middle of the club, a woman on her knees in front of him, finding out if his cock was really as big as Rebel had claimed it to be.

The woman was me.

Nash jumped down off the hood of his Jeep and went to the passenger side, opening the door for me again. “Come on. I’ll take you home. You must be tired.”

I couldn’t look at him. I clambered into the seat with the elegance of a walrus and drew my seat belt across my chest, fastening it while he jogged around to his side.

He glanced at me. “You’re not going back to Caleb’s place, I assume.”

“Not a chance.”

“Good girl. Back to your dad’s then?”

“Yes, please.”

Nash filled the trip with idle conversation, but I did little more than make “Mmm” and “Oh” noises of confirmation while he talked.

I had to be a bit drunk. Or maybe the incense inside the club had me stoned. Or maybe it was just the fact I’d spent five hours watching people have sex while not a single person had touched me.

All I could think about was the ache inside me, my slick panties, and the fact that Nash Sorensen had turned into a very attractive man.

All the more reason not to look at him. He was too old for me. He saw me as a younger sister.

But my clit didn’t care. She was sporting a lady boner that made it hard to concentrate when he and I were in such an enclosed space.

He parked his car at the front of my house, and I practically dove out the door, calling my thanks for the ride and telling him I’d stop in at Psychos on Monday after work to talk things through some more.

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.