Chapter 61
Ren
Once everyone had eaten and the men stopped measuring the size of their financial dicks at the table, it had actually been a lovely meal. The room hummed with energy. The flicker of candles and conversation made it feel warm.
“I know what I want for dessert,” Nash whispered in my ear.
His hand was already resting on my thigh, but then he slipped it under the hem of my dress and moved it into dangerous territory.
I glanced up from my chocolate soufflé. My father was chatting with Ronan and was thankfully unaware. I grabbed Nash’s hand and stopped him from going any further.
“Are you crazy?” I mouthed.
“For you…I’m committable,” Nash growled under his breath, and I forced myself not to wiggle in my chair.
He removed his hand, but his eyes danced with mischief. The candlelight around the room only added to his devilish look.
“Come with me.”
I looked around at my father’s guests. “But…”
He shook his head. “You negotiated the terms. I’m simply asking you to fulfill your obligation.”
I nibbled my bottom lip. This had seemed like a much less dangerous proposition when I suggested it. Now I wasn’t so sure. Nash pushed back from the table and stood. Oh, dear god, what had I done?
He took my hand and helped me out of my chair. I glanced around the room as we slipped out past a server. Liam caught my eye and gave me the smallest of smirks. Of course, he knew. Desire rushed through my body.
Nash led us down the hall, and I barely registered where we were going.
He dragged me into a spare room, tucked away on the main floor, and didn’t even bother with the lights.
The door shut behind us with a click that made me shiver.
Nash cupped my face and pushed me back, pinning me against the wall.
His mouth claimed mine like he’d been starving.
My skin burned, and heat rolled through me like he’d struck a match and tossed it straight into my gasoline-filled veins.
“I’ve been holding back since dinner,” Nash said against my lips, his voice rough and forehead pressed to mine. “Whatever you’ve done to me, you don’t ever get to undo it. I don’t want less of you. I want all of you, always.”
His lips traced slowly down my neck as he lowered himself to his knees. I couldn’t see him in the darkness, but I felt him everywhere. His hands slid up my thighs, pushed my dress higher, and spread my legs without apology.
I slapped a hand over my mouth as he claimed my pussy with the same hunger he had my lips.
The sensation crashed through me. Nash never did anything halfway.
He took, relentlessly, driving me to ecstasy with the same all-in intensity he brought to everything.
My breaths left in gasps, and my legs trembled.
His tongue was insistent, swirling around my clit, as his fingers sank inside, rubbing over my G-spot.
The hand on my hip pressed firmly into my skin, anchoring me as a low groan tore from his chest. I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to. My hand fisted in his hair, pulling him closer as my body responded helplessly to the pressure building.
“Come for me,” Nash ordered, his voice rough. “That’s it. On my tongue.”
I whimpered, my body bucking as the sensation overwhelmed all my senses. My heart thundered as we raced ever closer to that glorious edge.
“Don’t stop,” I breathed. “Oh God… Nash… yes.”
The release hit hard, ripping through me so violently I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming.
Nash didn’t slow. He pushed me through it, relentless, until my legs almost gave out. I slumped against the door, still trying to catch my breath, when I heard the quiet sound of his zipper, and a fresh shudder rolled through me at the promise of what came next.
Cupping my cheeks, he crushed his mouth to mine, and I tasted myself on his tongue. Then he stepped back abruptly, leaving me off balance. He caught my hand and pulled me through the dark.
“Here,” Nash said, placing my palm on the arm of what felt like a couch.
“How did you know this was here?”
“I memorize everything.”
He stepped in behind me, his hand closing around my throat. The pressure was light, deliberate, and enough to spike my pulse.
“You’re a bad girl, Princess. Dragging me away from dinner. Making me want you like this.”
He nipped my ear and sucked the lobe into his mouth, his tongue brushing the diamond stud.
“Bend over.”
“You’re insatiable, Collier,” I said softly.
“You don’t know the half of it.” His hand slid away. “Now be a good girl and bend over.”
His grip locked on my hips. I barely had time to brace myself against the leather before he thrust into me, a broken sound tearing from my mouth. I bit back the next cry as he pulled out and drove back in, unapologetic.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You feel unreal.”
He didn’t slow. Each movement stole my breath and left me shaking. The couch shifted across the carpet, wood creaking beneath us, but Nash only held me tighter. The sound of us filled the room.
Pressure coiled again, my body rocked with his, and every stroke hit deep.
“Come on my cock,” he ordered. “Right there. Don’t hold back.”
His rhythm turned rough, uneven. “Fuck… can’t—”
He froze behind me, a low rumble emanating from his chest.
That was it. His loss of control sent me over the edge. My body tightened and broke apart, while stars burst behind my eyes.
We went still, the room quiet except for our breathing.
“I think you’re trying to kill me.”
He huffed a laugh. “Only if I go with you.”
He pulled out and ran a finger slowly up my leg, collecting our combined arousal as he went, then he touched my lip. I sucked it clean, smiling at the sound he made. He did it again until there was nothing left.
He smoothed my dress down, zipped himself up, and then kissed me—slowly, deliberately.
“I could do that again.”
“No.” I shook my head. “We’re going back.”
He sighed dramatically but took my hand and led me to the door.
“I have no idea how you do that,” I said, marvelling at his ability to see in the dark. Nash chuckled.
“Lots of practice.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Probably not, and no, it wasn’t because of other girls. It was best if my father couldn’t see me. So, I learned to move through the house with the lights off. It’s a habit now.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, hating that we couldn’t just wipe the stain of Lawrence’s memory completely from our lives.
“Don’t be, I’m not. At least not about that.”
Nash opened the door and peeked into the hall before stepping out. I followed, pausing only to readjust my dress. Nash smoothed my hair, and I helped him settle his from sticking out in all directions.
“You look stunning,” Nash said as I took his arm once more.
“I’m not used to all these compliments from you. They kind of freak me out,” I teased.
He chuckled and then froze as we got closer to the dining hall.
“What?”
“The guards…where are they?”
I looked around. Nash was right, they were all missing from their posts.
“This way,” Nash indicated the service hallway toward the back entrance.
We walked quickly and quietly. The servers were in the kitchen, and everything seemed normal there. But my nerves didn’t ease.
“Do you hear that,” he asked when we reached the door.
I didn’t hear anything at first, but then there was the distinct sound of a female voice.
It wasn’t Vicky or Bridget.
It was…no…there was no way.
“Ana, put the gun down, right now,” Dad ordered, his voice firm and his words all too real. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the thought that it was really her.
I shoved the door open, stepping straight into the worst and best moment of my life. My heart felt like it stopped, and my brain couldn’t corroborate what I was seeing.
The room was still. But even if I’d walked into the middle of a rave, all that would have existed was my mother, standing at the far end of the dining table, with a gun pressed to Vadin’s head.
The floor seemed to give way beneath me, like the ground had opened up and tried to swallow me. I stumbled, but Nash caught me before I fell.
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
My mind scrambled for logic, for an explanation that didn’t involve my dead mother standing in front of me, looking strong, healthy, and just as beautiful as I remembered.
What the hell kind of sick joke was this? It had to be a hallucination. A nightmare I hadn’t woken up from yet.
Grief hit me in waves. Not the sharp, choking kind that I’d known before, but something meaner. This was grief with teeth. Grief that rewrote memories and poisoned every quiet moment I’d ever spent missing her.
Every time I’d whispered her name into the dark.
Every night that I’d blamed myself for surviving when she didn’t.
Every part of me that had learned how to live without her because I had no other choice.
She had watched me do all of it.
Behind her, movement caught my attention. A man stood half a step back, positioned like a shadow. Tall, still, and watchful. Detective Conway.
I sucked in a ragged breath as the missing pieces, I’d longed to understand, snapped together.
He hadn’t investigated her murder, and he certainly hadn’t wanted to give me any answers.
He’d been watching me—for her.
More memories rose in flashes from when I was little.
I recognized them now. Detective Conway and the second man who stood by her side.
They were her guards, my guards. They had been with us in Russia and followed us to Canada.
They lived in our neighborhood. I could remember seeing them when we got ice cream or went to the mall.
Mum had always waved and said it was the neighborly thing to do.
Oh my god.
The investigation. The timing. I had been so confused after speaking with Detective Conway. The official file on my mother’s death hadn’t made any sense, and I’d thought I was going crazy.
It had all been staged.