Page 139 of Nash
"Nash, I swear to God—"
"Hands off."
She releases my wrist. Her jaw clenches. Her thighs press together around my hand. The heat of her is soaking into my skin.
By the time I pull into the Vesper lot, her breathing is shallow, her fingers are gripping the edge of the seat, and my cock is so hard the walk inside is going to require adjustment. I park. Kill the engine. Sit for a second with my hand still on her thigh, her pulse hammering under my thumb.
Arden is at the door. His eyes move over us once. He steps aside without a word.
Inside, the club breathes. Low music. Dim light. Ruby's hand tightens in mine. This time she walks in with her chin up, her heels clicking on the hardwood. She moves through the space in the outfit I chose, with the plug I put inside her and her thighs bare beneath a skirt that barely qualifies as clothing. My cock throbs hard enough to make every step hurt.
At the main bar, Amelia is in conversation with a brunette in a wrap dress. Tessa. Wineglass held loose. Her shoulders relaxed on her frame. She laughs at something Amelia says, the kind of laugh I never saw from her when Derek walked her in here. His membership was pulled the week after my conversation with Amelia. The prospects rode him out past the county line and laid out, in language he understood, what happens if he comes back. He hasn't. Amelia catches my eye over Tessa's shoulder and tips her chin once. I tip mine back.
I don't take Ruby to a private room this time. I turn left past the main bar and walk her toward the back corner of the main floor where the booths line the wall. Semi-enclosed. Heavycurtains on three sides, open on the fourth to the room. Private enough to disappear in. Public enough to be heard.
I chose this booth because of what she said at the clubhouse. The desk in the office. With her parents fifty feet away. The way her voice got when she talked about what we'd done while the family ate dinner.
I pull the curtain aside. The booth is deep, the bench seat curved, the lighting low enough that faces blur beyond arm's length. The sounds of the club filter through the curtain. Conversation. Music. The occasional sound from one of the exhibition rooms down the hall.
"Sit," I say.
She sits. Her breath catches, and her eyes flutter. I sit beside her. My arm goes along the back of the booth behind her shoulders. The heat of her body beside mine, the knowledge of what's under her skirt, and the faint scent of her arousal already mixing with her perfume make it hard to walk through the club like a civilized man. My hand grips my thigh to keep from touching her before I'm ready.
"In here," I say, "the only rule is colors. Green means go. Yellow means slow down. Red means everything stops."
"What about the other rules? The room rules you mentioned?"
"Those start when we get to the room."
"So in here—"
"In here, you play."
The grin breaks across her face. Full, wicked, showing every tooth.
"You are going to regret saying that, Nashville Sutton."
"I won't."
Ruby moves before I finish the sentence. She swings her leg over me and straddles my lap. The skirt rides up around her thighs, and her bare pussy presses against the front of my jeans.The heat of her soaks through the denim. My hands go to her hips on instinct.
"Hi," she says. Her arms drape around my neck.
"Hi."
She rolls her hips. The friction of her clit grinding against my jeans makes her breath hitch, and she does it again, slower, watching my face while she rides the seam. My fingers dig into her hips.
"Ruby."
"You said play." She rolls again. Her eyes are bright. Her red lips are parted. "I'm playing."
She reaches between us and unbuttons my jeans. Then undoes the zipper. Her hand wraps around my cock and pulls it free, stroking once from base to tip, and my head drops back against the booth.
"Fuck." The word leaves me before I can contain it.
"There he is." She strokes again, twisting at the top. "There's the Nash who fought a man on a sidewalk today. I was wondering when he'd show up."
She lifts her hips, positions me at her entrance, and sinks down onto my cock in one slow drop. The heat of her wraps around me, wet, tight, and my hands grip her hips hard enough to leave fingerprints on her skin. She's so wet I slide in to the hilt without resistance, and I can feel the plug through the thin wall separating her pussy from her ass. The pressure of it against my cock makes my vision blur.
