The Saint

by Amelia Shea

  “No fucking at the bar, Saint.”

  She froze in his arms and pulled away, staring at him with wide eyes. He glanced over her shoulder, knowing exactly who made the comment.

  “Been waiting my whole fucking life to say that to you.” Kase laughed and settled into the seat next to him. Bailey stepped away a foot before Saint pulled her into his chest. If she was going to hang out at the club, she would have to get used to it.

  “Always the dick, Kase,” Saint said, grabbing his beer with one hand and caressing her waist with the other.

  Kase smirked and raised his brow. “You sound like Cade, asshole.”

  “Wanna another, pretty girl?” Nadia said.

  Saint was shaking his head when Bailey answered, “Yes, please.”

  With Bailey’s back to him, he mouthed to Nadia. Last one. He was slyly cutting her off much to the humor of Nadia, who was more than happy to see Bailey drunk and extremely friendly.

  “Come on back here, Bailey.”

  Saint smiled, watching Bailey rush around him and Kase, heading behind the bar. He kept a close eye on her, seeing how friendly Nadia was getting. Watching them, he quickly realized, there was nothing sexual on either end. Bailey was sweet and friendly without judgment, and Nadia just enjoyed the friendship.

  He watched as Nadia taught her how to make drinks and test them out on Gage. Nothing funnier than watching his brother taste Bailey’s special concoction. The night couldn’t have gone any better with Bailey letting her guard down, and Saint surrounded by his brothers.

  “Our mayor is fucked up,” Kase said, taking a drag from his cigarette.

  Saint snorted with a nod.

  “She’s a good one, Saint. Fucking happy for ya, man.” He sipped his beer. “Brothers are taking bets when we’ll be throwing another fucking wedding here. I’m down for next month.”

  Saint turned. Kase was watching Bailey with a small smile playing on his lips. Of all the brothers, they were the closest having the most history together. A lot of people discounted Kase as a dick. For those who knew the true Kase Reilly, the side he didn’t show many, Kase was a good man.

  Bailey sauntered over, and he caught Kase watch as she made her way over. His scowl did nothing to discourage his closest brother. Kase side-eyed him. “She’s sexy as hell. I’m fucking human, Saint. I’m gonna appreciate that shit.”

  Bailey slapped her hands on the bar. “I can make…” She paused. “A beer and a shot. It’s all I got.”

  Kase burst out laughing, and Saint followed suit.

  “Time to take you home, sweetheart,” Saint said.

  She raised her brows with a teasing smirk. “Oh yeah? Better make it worth my while, Saint.”

  Kase snorted, and Saint shook his head. Drunk Bailey was a bit sassy and wild. He couldn’t wait to get her in his bed. He lifted his chin.

  “C’mon.”

  She turned to Nadia, giving her a hug, and then proceeded to the end of the bar. He was watching her until he felt a soft hand on his forearm. He glanced up to see Nadia leaning closer. “I love her, and if you don’t bring her back here, I’ll kill you.” She winked and tapped his arm.

  It was the consensus, Bailey fit right in at the clubhouse. She’d be back, but right now, the only place she belonged was in his bed.

  He slapped Kase on the arm and met a stumbling Bailey at the edge of the bar. He curled his arms over her shoulder and leaned closer, whispering in her ear, “Horny drunk?”

  She curled her arms around his waist and glanced up. “Take me home and find out.”

  ****

  She could barely keep her hands off him during the ride. She snaked her fingers over his neck, down to his abs, however when she reached for his cock, he stopped her.

  “The people of Ghosttown don’t need an accident tonight.”

  She chuckled and continued her mouth assault on his neck. When the truck finally stopped, it took her a second to get her bearings. This was not her house. She glanced over the manicured lawn, and the cute cape tucked amongst the sprawling trees. She jerked her head to the driver’s side.

  “This is your house?”

  Saint smiled, grasping her neck and taking her in for a kiss. She moved closer and tangled her legs over his thigh. He had only a few neighbors. Her inebriated mind wasn’t thinking straight. Luckily, Saint was stone-cold sober. He nudged her back into her seat and got out of the truck. Her head felt light, and she rested back until the door came open with a welcomed cool breeze. She turned her head.

  Saint squinted. “You about to pass out?”

  She shook her head, shifting out of the truck and into his waiting arms. Instead of walking her into his house, he bent down, hooking one arm around her waist and the other under her knees. He stalked forward as she curled her arms over his shoulders.

  She only caught a quick glimpse of his front entry and his living room. He took the stairs quickly and darted into a room on the left. She was dropped onto a soft mattress. She turned her head, taking in the scent of the sheets. Pine and fire, it was Saint’s scent.

  His hand gripped the edge of her skirt, hiking it up to her waist, and she felt the cool air drift over her pussy when he ripped her panties down her legs. There was no warning or prelude. He dropped to his knees, and his head disappeared between her legs. Oh my God. She jackknifed on the bed the second his lips grazed over her pussy.

  “Saint.” She gasped, driving her hand into his hair. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

  Her head pressed down against the pillow as his fingers gripped her thighs in a binding hold, keeping her from wiggling away. Maybe it was the alcohol and her loss of inhibitions? Whatever it was, Bailey found herself grinding her hips against his mouth. The sensation and building pressure from his tongue flickering over her clit was too much and not enough. She gripped the short strands of his hair and tightened her fist.

  “Feels too good, Saint.” She moaned, arching her back, giving him better access. His mouth moved over her pussy, stroking her sensitive bead in a steady rhythm and sending a shiver through her entire body. The direct hit intensified, everything she was feeling. She ground her teeth, pressing her tongue against the roof of her mouth in hopes she’d control her urge to scream out his name.

  “Right there.” Her breath hitched, and she swiveled her hips against his mouth. Oh God, this man. Had it always felt this good? She released his hair and fisted the sheets between her fingers. It had been too long. Her vibrator had been an inadequate Plan B to the real thing. Until Saint. She clenched her jaw. Right there. His tongue caressed her clit, and she moaned, feeling the tremor course through her body in the most magnificent relief. Yes! Her knees clamped, and she gasped for a breath. Her body shivered, and her toes curled. Yes! It had been way too long. She panted heavily and closed her eyes, relaxing into his mattress. Her breath labored as her exhaustion set in.

  She was mildly aware of the small kisses he planted on her inner thigh and stomach. She curled her lips and kept her eyes closed. She could envision him as his mouth spread over her breasts. His lips trailed up her neck, and she blindly curled her arms over his shoulders.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  His chest rumbled against her. His breath fanned her neck. “Is that the alcohol talking?”

  She blinked her eyes open and turned her head, catching his gaze. “No. I really do love you, Saint.”

  His violet eyes darkened. He moved closer, taking her mouth for a hungry kiss. She could barely catch her breath, though she didn’t care. All she wanted was him, his mouth, his touch, just Saint. He kissed her lips, trailing down her neck. He cupped her jaw and raised his gaze.

  “Love you, too, Bailey.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest. He loves me too. She leaned closer, taking his lips and angling her legs to lock his hips against her. She wasn’t thinking straight or responsibly. She just wanted him as close as possible. He pulled away, and she grasped his shoulders. Where was he going?

 
He reached across the bed, opening the drawer. At least one of them was being smart. She watched as he pulled back and put on the condom.

  “No babies,” she whispered with a smile.

  His gaze flickered, and the corner of his mouth curled. He leaned over her.

  “Not tonight.” His chest rubbed against her breasts, tightening her nipples to sharp peaks. She was ready for orgasm number two. His mouth lowered to her ear. “I’m not ready to share you, just yet. But someday…” His voice trailed.

  Someday. She pressed her face into the crook of neck. Yes, someday.

  She felt the crown of his cock, nudge against her core. She grabbed his neck, digging the pads of her fingers into his skin.

  Being this close and connected, only intensified her need. He sank inside her, and his low grunt sounded in her ear.

  “Saint,” she whispered.

  His head stretched back, and the strained cords of his neck was all she saw. He moved slowly and methodically. Her internal walls gripped him, and he groaned. He was a vision. She stared up at him with his eyes hooded. She needed to see him, really see him in full view.

  She hooked her foot around his ankle and pushed her weight against his body, sending him to curl onto his side. She heaved her body, keeping their connection, and climbed on top of him. Her fingers dug into his chest as she sat back over his cock.

  His hands gripped her waist as she moved over him. She rode him slowly, loving the softs grunts he was emitting. His pleasure, it was all she wanted, though she was getting plenty on her end. She sank lower on his cock, taking him deeper into her body. She tightened her grip, digging into his chest.

  “God, you feel so good.” His words were hushed. She fell against his chest, and his hand splayed over her hips, down to her ass. This was different from any other experience he’d had. Maybe it was Saint. Maybe it was her. Most likely, it was them. Never in her life had she felt a closeness and bond like the one she felt with him. Just us. She gasped at the onset of her orgasm. Her mouth dropped to his neck, as he thrust inside her.

  “There, Saint, right there,” she whispered. He moaned, arching his back, just as he came.

  Her erratic breath fanned over his neck, and his hands grazed over her ass, gliding up to her hips.

  She released all her weight onto him and curled closer. She wasn’t sure how long they lay together. She closed her eyes. She was completely done. Perfectly spent.

  “God, I love you.” His graveled voice rumbled in her ear.

  “Is that the orgasm talking?” She giggled through her uneven breaths, and she felt his chest shake under her.

  Saint grasped her hips and turned to his side, releasing her. She curled her hand under her chin and watched him get out of the bed and walk into the bathroom. She was enjoying the view of his sculpted body. The light flickered on, and she waited. She’d gotten her second wind. She should have been on the verge of passing out. Instead, she sat up and watched the door. When he emerged, she smiled. He came forward with his brow arched. I love when he does that. He dropped to the bed and pulled her into his chest.

  “Let’s eat snacks.”

  He furrowed his brows. “What?”

  She wiggled out of his hold and sat back on her heels, staring at him, enjoying the heat lingering in his stare. She twisted her lips in a playful smirk. “I think we need to refuel.”

  His lips curled into a sexy half-smile. It took Saint longer to get out of bed than her. She drifted down the stairs giving her a peek at his place. She knew he’d gutted the old small home and rebuilt it, but never actually saw it once it was done. It was tastefully redone with new wood floors and a brand new fireplace. It wasn’t huge, only slightly bigger than hers. When she moved to Ghosttown years back, she’d actually looked at the house. It needed too much work, so she passed on the deal.

  She walked through the kitchen and stopped in the doorway. It was dim with only the counter lights on. Holy shit! It had obviously been completely remodeled, and while the house didn’t seem overly extravagant, he’d paid special attention and a lot of cash on this room. The cabinets and countertop had been replaced, along with the appliances.

  She was so caught up with looking at the kitchen that she hadn’t realized he’d come downstairs until his arms wrapped around her waist. His lips grazed her temple. She curled into him, clasping his hands over her stomach. She glanced up to find him staring at her.

  “I love your house.”

  “Good. You’ll be spending a lot of time here. You should like it.” He moved forward, forcing her to walk ahead of him with his hands remaining around her waist. On the opposite side of the room, next to the doorway to the mudroom, was another door. He stopped a foot away and reached past her, gripping the knob and pulling it open.

  She gasped when the mystery door opened up to a fully stocked pantry. She scanned the shelves, filled with every snack imaginable, some healthy, some not.

  “This is my childhood dream pantry. My mom was delusional and considered fruits and veggies a snack.”

  “I have those too. But I’m thinking you’re not interested.”

  She shook her head.

  He chuckled and released her. “Have at it.”

  She grabbed a bag of chips and a container of pistachio nuts.

  “Beer, wine, soda, water, or juice?” Saint asked, and she turned to find him at the fridge.

  “Water, please.” She walked over. “We should just stay here all weekend and eat all your snacks and have sex.”

  He slowly cocked his head with a sexy smirk playing on his lips.

  “Yeah?” He drew in a breath. “How about next weekend? I got Cia coming tomorrow.”

  “Oh right.” She nodded. “I’ll get outta here early then.”

  Saint’s jaw squared. She’d seen the look before though never directed at her. He was leaning up against his counter with his hands clenched, gripping the edge. His whole body tightened, and his scowl intensified. Before she could ask what was wrong, he spoke.

  “She asked if she could meet you this weekend, Bailey.” His eyes darkened.

  Her bottom lip trembled. Her face heated, and she flattened her lips. His daughter is asking to meet me? This added a whole new level of guilt.

  “My daughter is everything, sweetheart.”

  She blinked in confusion. Did he think she didn’t know that? “I know.”

  He jerked his chin to her and narrowed his gaze. “So are you.”

  She clamped her lips and stared back at him. She knew where this was going. If they were both important, he’d want them to all spend time together. It made sense, and there was a part of her that desperately wanted what Saint was offering. Meeting his daughter meant he saw a future with her. His admission alone was self-explanatory. She glanced down at the floor, fidgeting with her hands.

  “Need those worlds to collide.”

  She sighed. “It’s just too…”

  Saint cut her off with a low firm answer. “No. It’s not too soon.” She expected him to make his way over to her. Instead, he remained across the room. “You keep stalling on something I need to happen. What are you afraid of?”

  She jerked her gaze and knitted her brows. “I’m not afraid.” Liar. She wasn’t merely afraid. She was petrified.

  “Bailey.” He sighed. “You can’t tell me…I can’t help you.”

  Her shoulders sagged, and she rested against the wall. It was time to come clean. If she didn’t, she was running the risk of losing him. She couldn’t fault him either. “Is this a deal-breaker?”

  He raised his brows and smirked. “Meeting Cia?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, considering I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, then yeah, it’s imperative you meet her.”

  “No, I know eventually.” She licked her lips and shrugged. “I’m not ready yet.”

  “Okay.” He nodded. “Why?”

  “Because…” She clamped her lips and let her gaze wander around the room, avoiding his star
e.

  Saint snickered. “That’s your answer?”

  Skating around her own insecurities was not working. Saint wasn’t allowing it. If she wanted him to fully understand, she’d have to be honest. “What if she asks about my scars?”

  All the humor faded from his features, and his lips leveled. “Then we tell her.”

  What? Her stomach plummeted, and her nostrils flared. She could actually feel the blood drain from her face. Tell his nine-year-old daughter what happened to her? Was he insane? Just the thought of giving anyone except those closest to her the background of her scars left her with a pit in her stomach. She’d gotten better with it over the years, but telling Cia was out of the question.

  “No.” Bailey snapped with an octave high enough to break glass. Her blurted response even shocked her.

  Saint shifted forward.

  She dropped the bags of chips on the table and backed away from him. “I’m not explaining to your nine-year-old daughter that some bastard poured acid on me because.” Her heart raced in her chest. She was losing her breath in a wild panic. “I don’t even know why.” She screamed. Her body began to shake uncontrollably. She sidestepped his approach. “He wouldn’t say it, Saint. He wouldn’t even tell me what I did to deserve it,” she screeched, which had Saint halt mid-step. She wiped her cheeks, only realizing now she’d started to cry. Her head felt so heavy on her shoulders with a blasting throb. “I need to go.” She darted toward the doorway. She only got a few feet before Saint wrapped his arms around her body, pressing his chest into her back.

  She’d never broken down in front of anyone. Not like this. She’d had her share of low moments, cried herself to sleep, asked herself “why me,” and she’d done it alone. She purposely showed a brave face for everyone, even her family. Especially my family. She sobbed and remained in his arms where he held on tight, brushing his lips against her head.

  “Saint, I’m so…”

  “Shhhh…” He lifted her and carried her to his couch, setting her down before taking a seat next to her. “Need you to tell me what’s going on in here.” His finger lightly grazed over her temple, slipping her hair behind her ear. “Tell me what happened?”