Havoc (Storm MC 7)
She invaded every fucking sense of mine until I didn’t know right from wrong, up from down, red from fucking blue.
“Havoc.”
My head snapped up and I found her staring at me.
Unsure.
“Are you okay?” she asked, lines creasing her forehead as she tilted her head, frowning at me.
I stepped back and let her go. “I need to slow this shit down.”
She stood naked in front of me with an expression on her face that seemed to be half confusion and half frustration. “What does that mean?”
I wasn’t sure I even knew.
“It means I want you sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed waiting for me while I take a minute,” I bit out. My head was so damn full I thought it might actually explode.
Too many thoughts.
Too many fucking feelings.
I jerked my chin at her and snapped, “Go.”
Her eyes widened a fraction and I pushed my breaths out while waiting for her to submit. When she didn’t, I growled, “Carla, I need you to go and sit on the bed. Now.”
“I’m giving you five minutes to get your head back in this. I’m all for bossy and shit, but I draw a line at whatever the fuck you call what you’ve got going on at the moment. Barking orders at me is a whole lot fucking different than dominating me.” With that, she stalked out of the bathroom.
Thank fuck.
I dropped down and crouched on the floor. Bringing my hands up, I b
ent my head and threaded my fingers through my hair, cradling my head with my chin against my chest.
What the fuck are you thinking?
Hello, remember Kelly?
This is just sex.
But, Nash.
My breaths were coming hard and fast while I filed through my mind. The smart thing to do would be to walk out of the motel room and book another. This thing with Carla was not just sex. I wouldn’t be losing my shit if it were. I wouldn’t be dedicating so many goddamn minutes of my day to thinking about this if it was just about pussy.
I could get pussy anywhere.
I couldn’t get Carla anywhere.
What the hell was it about her that had so much pull over me? Because to even think about a club member’s sister the way I was contemplating Carla was fucking lethal.
I stood.
Resting my hands on the edge of the vanity, I stared at myself in the mirror. All thirty-one years of my life were etched on my face. Along with a whole lot of turmoil.
And need.
I splashed water on my face.
Just fuck her, and then walk the hell away.