Page 116 of Nash

“It was my honor,” he answers.

“So you’re a… you’re apriest?”

Sire laughs, throwing up his chin, exposing the winged warrior angel on his neck. “No priest is allowed to love as I do.”

“He’s a non-denominational pastor,” Nash explains. “When I met him, he had a copy of the Holy Bible, the Torah, and the Quran open on his cell bed. He studies all religions.”

I stare in awe because Sire doesn’t look like a pastor, but now I can see how he can switch from a very sinister to a deeply soulful man.

It makes me feel safer, sleeping in Sire and Wren’s guest bedroom with Nash wrapped around me, his Beretta ready on the nightstand. I have more than seven men protecting me. More than The Queen and other queens like me.

I have a future that feels like divine fate.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

NASH

“What do we do with him?”Grant asks, standing over the man he just choked in the courtyard behind Delta’s.

Grant still has wicked bruising from the shot he took in the vest. I catch him wincing from his effort, but like a raging bull, you can’t keep him down.

He busted one of Turner’s men, crawling over the back brick wall of Delta’s, and now the man is passed out, but he’ll awaken soon.

“Take him to the bunker,” I fume. “They’ll swarm like flies to this place, so let’s use it. We’ll collect dozens before this is over.”

We’ve never used our warehouse in the Naval yard with an old underground bomb shelter.

That changes today.

We have two scouts on Delta’s roof. A sniper, too. There’s a man on each porch, along with our usual surveillance and guard by the front door.

It took less than forty-eight hours for Turner to send another butcher after me and Vale. This guy is armed with multiple hunting knives, and he looks jacked. It’s as if he’s been trained to fight his entire life. Something odd strikes me about him. I can’t place it, but at least he was no match against Grant.

Like a beacon, Vale and I will draw Turner’s men to Delta’s or any place where we let ourselves be spotted, and our team will scoop them up.

“Pull a few fingernails,” I order Grant. “Get him to confess where Turner’s base is. If we collect more of Turner’s men, one will turn with our torture.”

Grant nods, motioning for the guard on the second-floor porch to help him while I turn to go inside.

I search for Vale and her twin, Blair, back at work, their loyal customers oblivious to the dark world outside. In the second-floor showroom, I find Blair helping two wives select a new strap-on while Vale adjusts a display on the shelf.

Her little black dress lifts, exposing her alabaster ass cheeks.So cute. So tempting.Vale’s back to her gothic tease, and it warms my heart, firming my cock, too.

She isn’t afraid of my life.

She’s eagerly joining it.

Her signature black thigh-highs with white bows draw me near, but I keep my safe distance, knowing I’ll lose control if I touch her.

She’s adjusting two silver balls the size of peas on a realistic-looking silicone vaginal display.

“What are those?” I’m beyond intrigued.

“They’re magnetic orbs. Their pinch is so painful, it’s pleasurable to some,” she explains, positioning them over the clitoris on the model. “You can use them like this, on nipples, on the frenulum of a penis, or the crus of one. You know … where your shaft meets your balls.”

“I didn’t know,” I grin, feeling my crus suddenly swell, “but thanks for the lesson, Dr. Sex.”

She whips around, winking. “You’re my best student.”

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