Until Nash by Shaw Hart & Cameron Hart

Author:Shaw Hart & Cameron Hart [Hart, Shaw]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boom Factory Publishing, LLC
Published: 2022-07-28T16:00:00+00:00

NINE

Scarlett

It’s so hot in here.

I’m halfway through my shift at Teasers and the place is packed. There are no bachelor parties today but we have a new dancer working tonight and she seems to be a big hit.

I’ve been running back and forth all night, getting drinks and clearing tables, but I just stepped off the floor for a tiny break. My body aches as I head to the back room. Tips have been great so I’m trying to ignore how sore my feet are and how badly I want to lay down and take a nap.

I’m not just tired from my physically draining jobs, though. A big part of my lack of sleep the last few nights has to do with Nash.

Every time my head hits the pillow, my thoughts turn lustful and surprisingly dirty. For not having hardly any experience, my mind sure can conjure up dozens of things I want Nash to do to me. Starting with a repeat of our date.

I mean… holy hell, I had no idea what I was missing out on. I thought I had given myself a few disappointing orgasms in the past, but they were nothing compared to what Nash was able to pull out of me with his wicked tongue.

God, it was so intimate, so dirty, so freaking mind-numbing, I nearly passed out. And the way he held me after? Cradled me against his chest and stroked my back? I’ve never felt so treasured, so protected in my whole life.

I nod at Bambi as I step into the breakroom. As I get closer to my locker, I hear my phone ringing and I hurry to open it so I can answer. By the time I reach it, the call already ended.

Sighing, I dig my phone out of my purse and check the screen. My lungs stall when I see who it was from. My father. I’m assuming he got served today, and my heart kicks against my ribs as I try to imagine what he’s going to say to me.

Scenes of my childhood crawl out from the dark recesses of my memory, filling my mind with images of my dad yelling at me. I slam my eyes shut, but the memories continue to bombard me. His mottled face and sweaty brow. The vein throbbing above his left eye. Little flecks of spittle flying from his open mouth.

My eyes snap open, and I shake my head, knocking those thoughts loose. I don’t want to psych myself out before making this call. Even though we’re not face to face, I’m not sure I can handle his wrath.

It’s strange to be afraid to talk to my dad but that’s where I’m at. I twist the phone between my fingers, flipping it over and over as I try to work up the courage to call him back.

I don’t get the chance before my phone rings again. It’s my dad, and I take a deep breath, making sure the break room is empty before I accept the call.

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