Their Saint: Hell’s Rebel’s MC Part II
Page 26
When the sound of the shower turning on again hit me, I opened my eyes at last and heard Saint say, “There she is.”
I squinted at him. “No fair.”
He grinned. “Can we help it that we’re sex gods?”
I had to snicker, but I turned my face away from him and into the blue-tiled wall as I hid my expression. I always felt acutely shy at these moments, pretty much overwhelmed by what they made me feel.
“Leave her alone,” Ink chided, but I heard the humor in his voice as he toweled off.
I turned back to face him, saw his dick swinging in the breeze, and wondered when this had happened. I couldn’t really give a time when they’d all stopped wearing boxers to bed. They never crossed swords or anything like that, but neither did they cover up anymore.
I guessed it was because we were all at peace with one another, and I loved that. A vein of intimacy had threaded between us, tightening around us until I wasn’t sure where I started and they ended.
This was no longer a family built around me, but around us all.
I sighed at the sight of how beautiful Ink was. He hadn’t had any tats in years, and I was busy working on something in my spare time that would go on his back. It was going to be an anniversary gift to him, but then, I had gifts for Keys and Saint too. Keys knew his design was his momma, but Saint? He didn’t know he was getting a tiger piece. I wasn’t even sure if he liked tigers, but they reminded me of him. Slow to burn, but when enraged? The inferno was swift and deadly.
Quickly swerving my thoughts away from that line of thought because I didn’t have it in me to get horny again, I mumbled, “Can we go to bed yet?”
When they laughed, I was quickly washed up. I loved how tender they were with me. How they did this for me because they knew they’d short-fused every nerve ending in my body.
When Ink hauled me out of the bath, I clung to him as Saint dried me off. Sometimes, I thought I didn’t tell them I loved them enough, but I showed it. With every kiss, with every touch, I imbued it with my love.
And as Ink lay me on the bed, I cuddled into him, knowing that Saint and Keys would be at my back soon enough.
They always had that.
Would always protect me, keep me safe, cherish me with their love, and it was why I could go to sleep without dreading what would happen.
Why I could close my eyes without fear of the past.
These men were my past, my present, and my future rolled into one.
I’d spend the rest of my life showing them just how grateful I was for that.
And that was a promise.
❖
Ink
“Got a gift for you,” I told her the following day.
She cocked a brow at me as she stopped inking the detail on Keys’ tattoo of his momma. He’d said that he’d wait for her to be good enough, and though she’d been ready about six months ago, she’d waited until now, saying she’d decide when that was.
It was perfection. True perfection. And it wasn’t often I said crap like that. But Jesus, it was a work of art, and I knew I’d have to get some work done by her, not only to feel her claim all the more, but to have the connection of ink, my medium, to her.
“What is it?” she demanded, squinting at me even as she blew out a breath to displace the lock of hair that was stuck to her brow. Keys curled upright, now that she’d stopped inking him, and as he moved his other arm from behind his head, he reached over and aided her in that task.
“Gift. Told ya,” was all I said.
She got to her feet, perfect in her uniform of denim short shorts and a vest top. In two years, I wasn’t sure I’d seen her in anything else… well, except for the day we’d gotten married.
A forty-hour road trip all round and we’d gotten married in Vegas by the King. She’d been in a floaty dress, looking like some kind of angel in the linen fabric that had swirled around her heels as she’d walked toward us. I’d been the one with my name on the certificate, but Keys and Saint had been at the altar with me and they’d been our witnesses.
She now wore three rings, one for each of us, and they were her version of a fidget spinner. I always got a kick out of watching her fiddle with them, because I knew they grounded her.
When I placed the briefcase on the desk, I told her, “Come and open it.”
Her scowl was suspicious, but that was because the dumbass, Keys, had given her a gift on Valentine’s this year that had shot ketchup in her fucking face.
I’d cheered her on when she’d punched him in the shoulder for terrifying her, and of course I’d blamed him when she’d broken her pinkie finger too.
“No ketchup was harmed in the making of this gift,” Saint teased from his spot over in the booth where he had his legs up on the banquette. Idiot had broken his leg two weeks ago, and had been bitching about the itch ever since. I almost thought the itch was bothering him more than the break, but having worn a cast in June before, I felt his pain.
“Oh.” That spurred her on and when she opened the case, her eyes widened. “The fuck?”
“These are our earnings from the last three runs, aside from what we paid to cover our costs at the house,” I explained.
She frowned. “So?”
“So… there’s three years’ worth of tuition here.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Huh?”
Keys rolled off the bed, and she shot him a glare. “Don’t move, I ain’t finished with you yet.”
He didn’t obey, instead moving over to her side and slinging an arm across her shoulders. From his pocket, with his free hand, he retrieved a letter. When he passed it to her, she stared at him then at it, and began reading.
“You didn’t.”
“We did,” he countered. “You’re ready.”
She blinked up at him, then owlishly gaped at me and over at Saint too. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”
“We know. We’re coming too.”
Ama shook her head again. “This is too much.”
I wasn’t surprised when she ducked out from under Keys’ arm and squatted on the ground, before falling back on her ass and leaning against the reception desk.
He crouched down in front of her and I did too. Bookending her on either side, letting her know we were here, and we weren’t going anywhere.
“You’re ready,” I repeated.
“I’m not.”
“You went to Vegas,” Saint called out, and that he’d sat up and was scowling told me how much he hated being out of this. I got it too. She needed the three of us less than she had before, but more in a different way now.
She had the nightmares still, but the night terrors were fewer and far between. She could nap without hiding out under the bed, and had developed a mouth on her that would rival her momma’s someday.
But she was still our Ama.
Still our saint cloaked in a sinner’s clothes.
“I did, but this? I mean, it’s so far, and I’m happy here!”
“You can be happy here again after,” I countered, reaching out and grabbing her hand. I fiddled with her rings as I said, “We’ll come back after you graduate. It ain’t forever.”
“What about the MC?”
“What about how we live says that the MC is more important to us than you are?” Keys rasped.
“It’s four years!”
I shrugged. “So?”
“What about this place?”
“It will be here when we come back,” I repeated. “And nothing says we can’t open something up there too. We’ve been getting international attention, babes. I think they’ll follow us wherever we go.”
Her eyes were wide, startled, and unsure as she stared at me. “When did you do this?”
“A few months back. We explained the situation, and told them we understood the scholarship was no more. Showed them your portfolio, asked if they’d let you in again. They said yeah. We have the money, and your fathers gave us the okay to take a step away so you could attend—”
“It’s too much,” she breathed again, staring down at the acceptance letter. “Rhode Island is so far away.”
“Ain’t you realized yet, baby girl? Home is where we are,” Keys growled.
She stared at him for so long I started to worry, then her breathing leveled out. “You’re right. You’re my home. Not Rutherford, not the MC.”
“That’s right,” I told her gruffly.
And I wasn’t surprised at the clunking noise of Saint’s cast as he finally scrambled off the bench in the booth and made it over.
She stared up at him. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he replied.
“One-hundred percent,” was all I said.
“Without a doubt,” Keys murmured.
She gulped, looked down at the letter, and her eyes moved as she read the acceptance note once more.
Then, her smile appeared, and like the sun peering out from behind the clouds, she bathed us in her warmth as she whispered, “I’m going to college.”
The End … Or is it?
This duet IS complete. However, I’ve had people ask me if I’m going to write Ama’s brothers’ stories…
Never say never. But, if you ask, I’d love to revisit this family and this down and dirty MC.
Join my Diva reader group, www.facebook.com/groups/SerenaAkeroydsDivas, OR, email me on serenaakeroyd@gmail.com to tell me what you think.
<3
Also by Serena Akeroyd
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Until I see you there or you write me an email or PM, here are more of my books for you to read…
The Sex Tape (Co-written with Helen Scott)
The Professor
The Caelum Academy
Seven Wishes
Eight Souls
Nine Lives
HawkRidge High
Dare You To Love Me
Naughty Nookie
Sinfully Theirs
Sinfully Mastered
The Gods Are Back In Town
Hotter than Hades
The Sun Revolves Around Apollo
Five Points, Hell’s Kitchen
A Screwed Duet
Screw You
Screw Me
Filthy Feckers
Filthy Hot (COMING SOON)
FourWinds
Queen of the Vamps
Kingdom of Veronia
Perry & Her Princes
Her Highness, Princess Perry
Long Live Queen Perry
QUINTESSENCE
Charmed by Them
Healed by Them
Worshipped by Them
Protected by Them
Loved by Them
QUINTESSENCE: The Sequels
Sawyer
Andrei
Kurt
Sean
Anchor Pride Series
Claimed by Caden
McKinnon’s Mate
The Corsakis
Three’s Never A Crowd
Old Enough to Know Better
The Federation
A Menage Made on Madison
La Belle sans La Bete Series
Menage Material
A Thoroughly Modern Menage
Forever Theirs
Secrets & Lies
The TriAlpha Chronicles
Origin
Trinity
Triskele
Triad
Triumph
Trierna
TriAlpha
Los Lobos
The Raw Touch
The Salsang Chronicles (written with Helen Scott)
Stained Egos
Stained Hearts
Stained Minds
Stained Bonds
Stained Souls