by Amelia Shea
“Nadia said they are,” Cheyenne teased.
The current topic of conversation were Val’s breasts. She was one of the club girls. Bailey had met most of them, who seemed sweet and friendly, with the exception of Val. She sneered in Bailey’s direction any chance she got. Apparently, she loathed the girlfriends, according to Cheyenne, and Meg confirmed it. She noticed Macy’s watchful eye when she sidled up to Rourke, who blatantly ignored her. Trax had done the same. Gage seemed happy to give her the attention she sought. Bailey found it odd she never engaged with Saint.
“How come she doesn’t hit on Saint?” Bailey asked. She was basically thinking out loud.
Meg snorted. “The girls know better than to approach Saint. He’s never given them any attention, even before you came around.”
Bailey glanced over at Meg. “Never?”
She twisted her lips. “Some may have tried, but Saint shut it down. He was holding out for the real thing, I guess.” Meg smirked. “Then you showed up.”
She glanced over at Saint standing with Rourke. A cute brunette sauntered over to them. Bailey had met her earlier, and she seemed sweet. She leaned closer and Saint bent down, offering his ear. A heated burn filled her belly. What was she saying? Saint backed up and nodded. He didn’t give her body a perusal as she’d seen a few other men do.
She had a sudden urge to go over there. Maybe it was her insecurity. Who cares? Get over there.
Too much time had been spent with her indecision.
“I’ll be back.”
“Okay, girl,” Chey said.
Bailey moved past the pub tables and weaved through the small crowd by the darts. She leaned to the side, catching a glimpse of Saint with Rourke standing next to him and the cute brunette handing him a beer. She was wearing booty shorts and a bikini top. Her body was made for the outfit. Bailey halted and second-guessed her decision. Maybe she should just go back to the table with the girls. She trusted Saint. He’d never given her a reason not to. The woman leaned forward, not too close, and appeared to be shouting something to Rourke. He held up his bottle and shook his head. She smiled and turned, heading in Bailey’s direction. Bailey stepped aside to let her pass, but she slowed down in front of her.
“I like your earrings, Bailey.”
Her hand immediately went to her ear and tugged on the dangling silver. “Thanks.”
“You need a drink?”
Bailey shook her head and forced a smile. “No, thank you.”
She grinned and leaned closer, shouting over the loud music. “I swear, you are the politest person in here.”
She winked and passed her. Bailey rounded a couple who seriously needed to get a room and walked over to Saint. He was facing Rourke with his back to her. She reached out to his hip, sliding her hand around to his stomach. His body tightened, and he jerked his head down at her.
“Hi.”
His stomach unclenched under her hand, and he wrapped his arm over her shoulder, curling her into his side. She gripped his shirt and settled into his side, watching the pool game. She couldn’t hear what Saint and Rourke were talking about over the music. It didn’t matter. She just wanted to be close to him. His fingers trailed over her arm, and she glanced up. His lips were on her before she even realized what he was doing. His tongue poked past her lips, and she leaned in closer. Making out in public was new territory for her when she was sober. Surprisingly, she didn’t care who was watching. She moved her hand up his chest to his neck when his lips trailed across her jaw and over to her ear.
“Don’t do that again.”
Do what? She flinched. What did I do? She tried to back up, but he held her tight.
“Watched you hesitate coming over here. Don’t do it again. You want to be near me, talk to me, whatever, you come to me, don’t care who I’m with, what I’m doing, you come to me. You understand, sweetheart?”
The warming in her belly had Bailey melting into his chest. Her hand clasped over his neck, and she whispered, “Yes.”
He kissed the sensitive skin below her ear. “Good.”
“Heard ya getting tatted up, Bailey?” Rourke said, breaking her out of her daze. She leaned over and smiled up at Rourke.
“Tomorrow.” Saint’s grand opening was on Saturday, but Marco and a few others were coming in a day early.
Rourke smirked and nodded, glancing back at the game of pool being played. “Watch yourself. Tattoos are addictive. After your first, you’ll be itching for another.” He gave her a side glance, the corner of his mouth curling, and he shifted his gaze to his arm. He had both arms sleeved.
“I already got something in mind for a second tattoo.”
Rourke burst out laughing, turning to Saint. “Christ, you’re gonna owe a shit ton of favors to Marco.”
Saint snorted. “She could get both sleeves, and her back and Marco would still owe me.”
“Well, ya got the best out there, Bailey. Marco did a few of mine. Since then, won’t use anybody else. Need to make an appointment soon.” He turned to Saint. “The wait still two months out?”
Saint lifted his beer, taking a swig before swallowing. “Three.”
“Fuck, business must be good.”
“It is.” Saint lifted the bottle to his lips.
“And you got in the day before opening, huh?” Rourke rarely teased with anyone other than Macy, but he was clearly joking with her.
“Yep.”
Rourke snickered, shaking his head.
She tugged on his arm, gaining Saint attention. “If Marco has a three-month waitlist, how’d you get me in so quick?”
Saint angled her closer, meshing her back to his chest and wrapping his arms around her waist. His hands locked over her stomach, and his nose ruffled her neck, closing in on her ear.
“Told Marco my girl wants a tattoo. He moved his schedule around to come in a day early.”
“Why?” She turned her head and gazed up at him.
Saint smirked and whispered, “’Cause my girl wants a tat. You may not know Marco, but he knows you, sweetheart. Not many people I talk to, Marco is part of the select few. Last year, I talked.” He paused, and she let his statement sink in. “I tell him Bailey wants a tattoo? He comes early. He didn’t even hesitate.”
Her lips spread into a wide grin. “You talked about me? For a whole year?”
Saint smiled. She reared her ass against his crotch, and her hands gripped his arms around her. “We should leave soon.” She raised her brows. “Very soon, Saint.”
Saint smiled and lifted the bottle to his lips, and in three seconds, he finished his beer. He unraveled his arms, only to hook one over her shoulders and toss the bottle in the trash. He threw up his hand.
“Night, everyone.”
Bailey said bye as they strolled out the door and through the parking lot toward his bike. This would be the longest ten minutes of her life.
****
They had barely made it through the door fully clothed. Public fucking was not his thing, but it might be if he didn’t get her inside.
Thankfully, they had made it into his house, up the stairs, though their clothes were currently leaving a trail. He lifted her naked body against his and dropped her onto his bed. When she rolled on her side, Saint slipped in next to her.
Saint curled into her and grasped her hips, pulling her against his cock. Bailey pressed her ass against his throbbing length. Fuck. His hands drifted over her stomach as her arm reached back, tugging his neck closer to her. She hooked her leg over his thigh, giving him full access. His hand drifted over her ribs. Taking his time was not an option. He wanted her too much.
“I want you inside me.,” she moaned.
He closed his eyes, fighting back the desire to fuck her hard. His fingers caressed up her chest, rounding over her breasts. Her nipples tightened against his palms, and he groaned softly. With her legs spread, he was lined up against her entrance. He was right there, feeling the moist heat from her pussy. Her. Get a fucking condom.
“Gotta wrap it up, sweetheart.”
She moaned and pressed her ass against him, sending the crown of his cock between her folds. His head dropped to the curve of her neck. She wasn’t playing fair.
“Bailey,” he growled, biting down on her neck.
“Saint.” She moaned and pushed her hips back until he was fully seated inside her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a woman bareback. He closed his eyes allowing her body to rock against his in slow precision.
He moved his hand between her legs, and she gasped. His finger caressed over her swollen bead, and her head dug into the curve of his neck. “Saint, right there, baby.”
He groaned. His name, along with her calling him baby, was almost too much to take.
He shifted his hand away from her pussy, gripping her thigh and opening her up for him to thrust deep in her core. Her fingers clamped over his neck, and she moaned. The vibration of her voice had him thrusting harder, gripping her legs in a tight hold. Her walls clenched against his cock, and he groaned. She gripped his neck, digging her nails into his neck as she released a breathy moan.
He shifted, feeling the walls of her core grip him in a tight squeeze. Pull out, motherfucker. She felt too good to hold back. He was seconds from coming. He’d had sex a hundred times over, yet no woman had ever made him feel as alive as Bailey. Her. It was all her.
“Ahhhh…yeah, Saint.” She mewled, and her body trembled under his hold. Her orgasm only rushed his own, and he pumped harder until his fingers dug into her hip. He pulled out, coming all over her hip. His body shivered as he spewed the long white strands over her skin. Her soft moan only enhanced his orgasm, and he gritted his teeth before falling back against the mattress. His breath was heavy. He hadn’t ever come so hard and too fucking fast.
His arm, still hooked under her ribs, tugged her against his chest. She came willingly, curling herself into his chest. They’d clean up later. For now, he wanted her close.
Her lips grazed his skin, and he sighed.
“You didn’t have to pull out.” She whispered so low he almost didn’t catch it. She curled into his chest with her fingers caressing over his abs.
“No?” he whispered.
“I’m on birth control.”
For now.
Bailey gazed up through her lashes. He trailed his fingers over her jaw, caressing her pinkened cheek. Visions of her swollen belly with his child had him tightening his hold on her. He wanted everything with her. Everything and forever. They may not be ready just yet, but Saint would enjoy having nothing between them.
“Next time, I won’t.”
The corner of her mouth curled and she pressed her lips over his heart. This was all he wanted. Her with him. His daughter, a part of both their lives and someday, a child of their own making. He leaned closer and she extended her neck with their lips meeting.
“Love you,” she whispered.
Saint drew in a breath. Sweetest words he’d ever heard came from her lips.
“And I love you, Bailey.”
It had been a long night and sleep came fast for both of them. It seemed once he closed his eyes, his alarm was sounding. It was a struggle to pull away from the warmth of her body.
They showered separately, his choice not hers. Getting Bailey naked in the shower would guarantee she wouldn’t make it to her appointment. When he came out from the bathroom fully dressed, she turned and pouted. God, I love this woman.
He’d gotten a text earlier from Marco. They’d arrived late in the night, opting to ditch the invite to the clubhouse and settle in. While the shop had been fully finished and stocked, each artist preferred to set up their stations. It would be a long day which was why he scheduled her appointment first thing in the morning.
At Bailey’s insistence, they took the bike. One ride and she was hooked. Just confirming once again she was the perfect woman, aside from all her other attributes. He pulled in the back lot and parked next to the rental cars. Bailey immediately dismounted, taking off the helmet quickly.
She grinned. “I’m so excited.”
Saint chuckled, getting off the bike while removing his own helmet. Along with her excitement he expected a bit of nervousness, which was common with a first tattoo. She showed no signs. He clasped her hand and walked in through the door, holding it open for her. They made their way down the small hall before Saint stopped and turned to her. A warning was only fair.
“What?”
He arched his brow. “Waited on you for a long time, sweetheart.” His lips twitched knowing the reception Bailey was about to receive. He wanted her prepped and ready. An enthusiastic Minka held no boundaries. He hadn’t been as open with her about Bailey, but she was always around, and he had his suspicions Marco mentioned some things.
“Marco and I are close, as I said yesterday. Shared with him.”
She smiled and blushed. “Saint.”
He scowled. “Gonna apologize now for Minka.”
Her brows knitted together. “Minka?”
He grasped her hand and pulled her down the hall which opened up into the shop.
“Morning,” he said, gaining the attention of two artists in the lobby. He caught a flash of jet-black hair with blue tips over one of the half cubicles. Her heels clicked and she appeared on the edge of the hall. It took her only a second to glance from him to Bailey and her mouth fell open.
The silence lasted less than two seconds, which was longer than he anticipated.
“Oh, my fucking God. It’s fucking Bailey!” Minka’s screech had Bailey tighten her grip and Saint rolling his eyes. He glared as Minka approached. She was too fixated on Bailey to notice or even care. She stalked forward with a wide grin. She was much taller than Bailey. He could only imagine what Bailey was thinking. Without any warning she grabbed Bailey and tugged her into a hug bouncing on her toes. Saint released her hand and smirked.
At least Bailey would know she was welcome. Minka stepped back holding Bailey’s arms in a tight squeeze. “I thought for sure, it was some bullshit when he said we were going to get to meet you.” Minka laughed. “But here you are.”
Bailey giggled, her cheeks pinkening. “It’s so great to meet you, Minka.”
“Oh my God.” Minka pulled her in for another hug. “You’re so friggin’ cute I can’t take it.”
“Try, Minka.” Saint sighed and pushed gently on Minka’s shoulder encouraging her to release Bailey. He scowled, though Minka could read through it, he assumed. She laughed and slapped his arm. She finally let go of Bailey, stepping back and shaking her head.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” She spread out her hands then jerked her head over her shoulder. “Marco, fucking Bailey is here.”
She really needed to hold back her excitement. While he enjoyed her enthusiasm and making Bailey feel welcome, putting her on the spot and on display might be uncomfortable for her.
Saint growled and inched forward. A soft familiar hand rested on his chest. He glanced down to seeing Bailey laughing. She shook her head. He would take her lead which meant allowing Minka to go bat shit crazy with excitement.
“You are so friggin’ adorable, I can’t even.”
Saint rolled his eyes again and glared down at Minka.
Marco poked his head out from his cubicle. He didn’t even look at Saint, his stare was glued on Bailey as they started forward. He hopped up from his seat and waited as they approached. His gaze flickered to Saint. He nodded and reached out his hand to Bailey.
“Been a long time coming, Bailey. It’s good to finally meet ya.”
She leaned closer and took his hand. “Nice to meet you. Saint talks about you all the time.” She winked. “Only good things.”
Marco grinned with a nod, keeping his attention on Bailey.
“Well, let me just say, I�
��m honored to be doing your first tat.”
Minka inserted herself between them with a grin. “Can I do your second?”
Saint drew in a breath. “Minka.” It was meant to be a firm warning, instead she ignored him, waiting on Bailey.
“Um, sure.”
Minka jumped on her feet again, twirling around. Marco shook his head while Bailey laughed. At least they could appreciate Minka. Saint shook his head and grasped Bailey’s hand leading her into Marco’s room. The cubicles were set up with half walls. It left the shop with an open feel. It gave the artist enough privacy without them feeling boxed in. In the back of the shop, there were two separate rooms for tattoos which required privacy.
Marco dropped in his seat and had everything set up for Bailey. Saint had left Bailey’s drawing so he’d be set to go when they came in.
“Have a seat, Bailey. I’ve got the drawing so I’ll place it and then we’ll start, sound good?”
She nodded and curled her sweater around her stomach. This would be the hardest part. He had given Marco a rundown about her scars. He trusted his friend to be nonchalant. When he’d spoken of Bailey, he’d given Marco full disclosure. Minka knew as well. But he knew it would be hard for Bailey.
Saint reached for her sweater and she allowed him to slide it down her arms and pull it off. When Marco turned, he smiled at Bailey, not making any eye contact with her arm or chest.
Minka appeared at Saint’s side. “You wanna hold my hand. I heard it helps for first timers.”
Saint glanced down at Minka who slipped past him and sat next to Bailey, grabbing her hand.
Marco rolled his seat over. “Bailey, it’s totally fine to tell Minka to get the hell outta here. Trust me, it wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Shut up, asshole. She likes me.” She turned to Bailey. “And if Marco fucks up your tattoo, I’ll fix it, so don’t worry.”
Bailey laughed.
Marco slid the strap of her cami down her arm and transferred the sketch. He was a perfectionist, and angled his stance to make sure it was perfectly set.
