Making Her His

by Lexy Timms

  “Very funny.”

  “How dressed up does your congregation get? I mean, are they jeans and dress-shirt kinds of people?”

  Saks took this as a good sign. She was getting into the idea. “Little more than that. Not full out, but I wouldn’t wear jeans.”

  “Snooty. But I can do that. But what about you? I thought you had to wear your leather jacket. Isn’t that part of your thing as a biker?”

  “No, darlin’. I don’t have to wear it. You’ll be surprised how good I clean up.”

  “Yes, I would.”

  “Ooh, you got me there,” Saks replied in mock pain. “Be nice.”

  “I’d rather be good than nice. Am I good, Saks?”

  There was a flirty note in her vote that made Saks’ cock take notice. “Oh, yeah, baby,” he said in a low growl. “You’re the best.”

  “Good,” she said, as brightly as a cheerleader. All seduction dropped from her voice. “I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, she clicked off the phone.

  Saks leaned his head back into his pillow and groaned. What a tease. The little minx played him. She wasn’t going to let him get the best of her. And what’s more, he loved it. There was nothing less interesting than a sure thing, and all too often that’s how women played it with Saks, at least to get him into bed.

  But not Chrissy. No. Even if she didn’t realize it, she was putting out a challenge to him to overcome her resistance. And he was determined he would do just that.

  So, despite some discomfort through the night, and one bag of ice that turned to water, he woke with a smile on his face. He was going to see Chrissy, and the thought warmed his heart. Saks couldn’t remember when he’d last gotten so stupid over a woman, but Chrissy was worth it.

  He whistled as he got ready, something he hardly did, and after a shower stepped into black dress pants, and a light tan V-neck linen pullover which cost him half his paycheck when he bought it. Though Saks didn’t splurge that much, he did like nice clothes. Then he finished the look with a summer-weight black wool jacket, and a gold chain with a cornicello, an Italian Horn amulet. So maybe that was a little ’cliché, or maybe it was just a classic look, at least for an Italian man. But he thought he looked good on him and he hoped Chrissy thought so to.

  “Who are you kidding, Saks?” he said to his image in the mirror. “You look awesome.”

  Still, he was sure Chrissy wanted more than good looks in a man. And his mission today was to find out what those things were so he could be those things for her.

  He took out a pair of black leather lace-ups and gave them a good buff with a shoe brush and slipped them on. Saks was ready, but he felt butterflies in his stomach. Damn, he hadn’t been nervous about meeting a woman since high school.

  His nerves beat a syncopated rhythm as he drove to her house, dancing a conga in his brain. Damn. She got him wound tight, though in the most pleasant way possible. It made him think of Chrissy riding his cock, holding his shoulders to the bed while he thrashed under her.

  Down, boy, he told himself and his stirring cock. We’re going to church. Not exactly the place to display a chubby. But he couldn’t help thinking about that wild night in his bed. Everything about Chrissy screamed sex, from her gorgeous dark eyes to her body with the wicked curves. He was going to have to go to confession if he kept this up. After, he told himself.

  Her apartment was in a small complex with four units, two on the bottom and two on the second floor. Saks checked her address on his phone again. Second floor. Right. His legs chopped up the steps and time crawled until she opened the door. He smiled when his eyes lit on hers, and he breathed deeply. He didn’t realize he had held his breath until that moment.

  “My, my, Mr. Parks. You do clean up good.” She looked over his shoulder down to the parking lot. “Where’s your bike?”

  “I didn’t want to muss your hair. I brought my cage.”

  “Cage? Oh yeah, your car.”

  “It’s the finest in beater cars, fit for the predations of Connecticut’s corrosive salt-slicked winter roads.”

  “A real beast?”

  “Six under the hood and four on the floor.”

  “Does that include the holes in the floor?”

  “Very funny. It’s mechanically sound. I make sure of it myself.”

  “I’m sure. But wouldn’t a ride in Cadillac with the top down be nice on a beautiful day like today?” She dangled her keys within his reach.

  “But what about your hair? Wouldn’t it get mussed?”

  “It’s muss-able hair.”

  Yes, he thought. His few remaining cogent brain cells dissolved into mush, and rushed to his cock as he stared at the golden halo flowing to her shoulders. Very muss-able. “Whatever the lady wishes,” he said gallantly.

  “Good; you drive.” She tossed him the keys.

  “Me?” he said as he caught them and followed her down the steps.

  “You know where we’re going. I hope it’s not too far. I hate walking in after the priest starts the service.”

  “Sounds like a woman who’s done that before. Late nights?”

  “Oh, please. My roommate is a bathroom hog. If I don’t get up at the crack of dawn, I miss my slot in the shower.”

  Saks walked ahead and opened the car door for her.

  “Mr. Parks, are you trying to spoil me?” After she sat, Chrissy comically fanned her face with her hands.

  “In every way possible, darlin’.”

  Saks slid into the car, appreciating the soft white leather of the seats and the steering wheel. It was an older Caddy, probably from the ’90s, but it was in excellent condition. He turned the ignition, and the vehicle purred to life. “How’d you end up with a classic like this?”

  “It’s not a classic, not yet. But my grandfather was concerned by the old Acura I had and gave this to me.”

  “Nice of him.”

  “Not so much. It was his excuse to get himself a new one, a great big honking red Cadillac with silver trim. It’s quite a testament to consumerism.”

  “You're not a consumer?”

  “I save my money. I think people giving me elderly cars in prime shape is quite a win. What about you? Why isn’t your grandfather handing off cars he can’t get a decent trade-in for?”

  Saks winced. This was a tricky part, getting into family history. He didn’t want to, so he made it as simple as he could. “Grandpa Parks has been gone a while.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  Saks mentally kicked himself. He just led her to believe that his grandfather was dead when, actually, he was doing twenty-to-life in a Virginia prison.

  “What about your mother’s father?”

  Shit. How do you explain that your mother’s father was killed in a shootout with his family’s fiercest rivals? “Family’s a bit...complicated.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m prying.”

  “No. I mean, I’d just like us to have some fun.”

  “Going to church?” She gave him an incredulous look.

  “It’s best to cleanse the soul before we face the temptations of the world.” He couldn’t help but smirk then, especially when an image of Chrissy’s perfect mouth, gasping an “oh” when she came, flashed through his mind.

  “Temptations? Just what are you planning, Mr. Anthony Parks?”

  “To take your money through gambling,” he said as they pulled in to the parking lot of the church. “Though I suppose I’ll have to wait until after the service for that. That’s when Father Peters will greet me by name.”

  “This I have to see,” she said.

  “You don’t believe me?” he said with mock indignation.

  “Well, I confess that, until this morning, I didn’t think you graced the inside of a church. But with you out of that tacky leather jacket, I can see that happening now.”

  Saks frowned as he opened the car door for her. He leaned in. “Tacky? Watch it, woman. Never, ever, diss the colors of a Hades’ Spawn.”

&
nbsp; “Why? What would happen?”

  “I just might have to spank you.”

  “Promise?”

  Oh brother, he was going to be sinning later today.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Hey, Saks,” said a short blonde as they entered the atrium of the church. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Saks blushed, and immediately Chrissy thought something was up.

  “Oh, hi, Emily. Yeah, every once in a while I get the urge to get right with God.”

  Emily handed Saks and Chrissy programs for the service. “And who’s your friend?” Her eyes sparkled with interest and mischief.

  Chrissy knew for sure that Saks didn’t make regular appearances at church. At least not this one. That fifty bucks was as good as hers. She grinned.

  “This is Chrissy.” Saks motioned to Chrissy. “This is Emily, my boss’s wife.”

  “Oh, right. I saw you at the Red Bull last night,” Chrissy said. She’d been a bit distracted with everything else, but Emily did look familiar...and kind.

  “Is Luke here?” Saks queried. He looked desperate for the chance to change the subject.

  “He and Robby are spending a little father-son quality time.”

  “Oh.” Saks looked disappointed. And cornered. Chrissy grinned. This was going to be fun.

  “Well, enjoy the service. Father Peter’s sermons are usually very good.” Emily turned to greet another couple standing behind them, who congratulated her effusively about her pregnancy.

  “Oh, that Luke!” Emily said as she laughed. “I told him not to say anything.”

  “Yeah, I never figured Luke to be a family man, but you sure changed that.”

  Chrissy and Saks walked away from the conversation, into the church were the pews were nearly filled. There didn’t look like there were two comfortable seats together.

  Saks looked overhead and pointed to the choir box, whose few pews were nearly empty. “Let’s sit there.”

  “You sure? I’m not sure you want to hear me sing.”

  “You don’t have to sing. Besides, I will.”

  “You?”

  “Sure,” he said with a wink. He led her up the narrow stairs to the balcony. The organist and a man and woman gave them a questioning look, but Saks ignored them and led her to the pews against the furthest wall. He settled in next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Like the view?” he said as he stared down at the altar.

  “It’s fine.” What was she getting herself into? This man only made things a game. Or complicated. She couldn’t decide which was worse.

  “You know what else is fine?” he said with a smile.

  “What?” She knew exactly what was coming.

  “You.”

  “I think you’re changing the subject.” She had no intention of letting him off the hook that easily.

  “What subject?”

  “That this isn’t your church.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t play innocent.”

  “For the record, I never said I was bringing you to my church.”

  “I think you’re playing with words here,” she accused with a teasing tone.

  “What I said is that the priest would know my name. And he will. Now, shush, the service is starting.

  The organist began to play, and they stood with the congregation as the priest and the altar boys walked the aisle to the sacristy. True to Saks’ word, he sang with the skeleton choir. What’s more, not only did he have a beautiful tenor voice but he knew every word of the hymn. He didn’t even have to look at the aging hymn book jammed into the book holder attached to the back side of the pew before them.

  Chrissy looked at him with new appreciation. There was something beneath the rough biker exterior that was deep and fine. She was sure the whole ‘going to church’ thing was a pretense meant to impress but would miss the mark. But she was obviously wrong.

  The priest moved through the service, and Saks followed every prompt and said every prayer as if he knew them forward and back.

  The homily was the Wedding at Cana, where Jesus changed the water into wine, and marked the first public act recorded in the new testament of Jesus’ role as teacher. From here the priest launched into a sermon about young people coming to him to arrange their weddings, and how their ‘occasions of sin’ raised an impediment to marriage. Chrissy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She never could believe in her heart that sex before marriage was wrong.

  “Those of you looking to come to me to have your marriage performed in this church will have to do penance, and of course, take pre-Cana classes. This is a lengthy course of study, so don’t expect to come to my office and get a wedding date right away. Marriage, like any important path of life, takes planning and preparation. I promise you, if you get it right in the beginning it will lay a foundation for the years to come. So, make your appointments if you have a wedding to plan for the future, and let’s get you started.”

  She glanced at Saks, who had a thoughtful expression on his face. He returned the look and squeezed her hand with a quick smile.

  After the service, they crowded at the door as the parishioners shook the priest’s hand and spoke with him. When Saks and Chrissy reached him, the priest’s face registered surprise.

  “Anthony?” he said. “I haven’t seen you since Luke’s wedding.”

  “Pay up,” Saks said, and elbowed Chrissy. “It’s great to see you, Father.”

  “Excuse me?” Father Peters said.

  “Forgive us,” Chrissy said. “I knew not what I was doing. It was nice meeting you.”

  “Oh, okay then,” the clearly confused priest replied. They walked past him and Chrissy fished a fifty from her purse. “I guess I just paid for breakfast.”

  “Nope,” Saks said. He took the bill, folded it, and stuck in the poor box by the door. “I said I’d pay for breakfast and I am.”

  “Aren’t you full of surprises?”

  “I’m flush. I just got a promotion at work.”

  “A promotion?”

  “Yes, I’m shop manager now.”

  “Upwardly mobile, I see.”

  They were in the car now and Saks navigated the traffic and side residential streets.

  “You know the area well.”

  “Grew up around here.” They pulled into a parking lot where a shiny diner stood in the middle of the black top. It was like many diners in Connecticut, a little cheesy on the outside, but classy within its doors. Marble floors spread to the walls, and mirrors lined the inside walls. A fully stocked bar and cashier’s station sat at the entrance. It was busy this Sunday morning, with most of the tables and booths filled.

  “You know, I haven’t been here.”

  “It’s a Westfield institution. Weekends are busy.”

  A waitress full of bustle sat them. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “She’ll have a Bloody Mary. I’ll take coffee.”

  “Sure thing.” The waitress hurried off.

  “You were quick to order alcohol for me. Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  “No. Just fulfilling a promise. Besides, you sat through that sermon very well. You deserve a reward.”

  “I noticed you didn’t miss a beat.”

  “Little known fact: I was an altar boy.”

  “I’d say I didn’t believe you, but you’ve proven me wrong several times today.”

  Saks took her hands into his and stared intently into her eyes. “I hope I keep doing that.”

  The waitress brought their drinks and Saks withdrew his hands. “Are you ready to order?”

  “Not quite yet.” She hadn’t even looked at the menu yet.

  “Sure,” Saks said at the same time. “She’ll have the Eggs Benedict and I’ll have the corned beef hash, my eggs over easy.”

  “Toast?”

  “Wheat.”

  “Very good.” The waitress sped off again.

  Chrissy let him order for her... not sure if she liked it or
not. Men these days seemed to think they knew what was best for her. However, with Saks she found herself not really minding. “Now, how do you even know I like Eggs Benedict?”

  “You’re a woman of discerning tastes.”

  “And how do you know?”

  “Oh, little things. Like your hanging out with me.”

  “Pretty sure of yourself.”

  He began to say something when his eyes flicked to the door, and the color drained from his face.

  Chrissy followed his gaze, nearly dropping her drink. Marcus, her grandfather, and another portly man she didn’t know stood at the door, waiting to be seated.

  Saks muttered something under his breath. “Look, I’m sorry,” Saks said, with real regret in his voice. “Things are about to get weird. There is no way my uncle won’t stop by to say hello. Just, whatever you do, don’t run off, okay? I promise I’ll explain everything. Please?”

  Chrissy nodded but was too distracted to take it in. She was more worried Saks was the one who was going to do the running. Wait a sec. She glanced at the door again. What the hell was going on? Saks’ uncle? With her grandfather? The last thing she wanted was for her grandfather to see her with Saks. That would be a clusterfuck of major proportions. “Is there any way you can sneak out, like through the back or something?”

  “Too late.” Saks closed his eyes a moment. “Fuck,” he muttered.

  The three men spotted Chrissy and Saks and walked toward them. She swallowed hard. Her brain raced to figure out a way out of this, but when she couldn’t she did her best to plaster a smile on her face. The best she could do was make light of this breakfast, maybe pretend it was some sort of business meeting.

  “Anthony,” the portly man said. “I didn’t expect to see you here, and with such a lovely young lady.”

  Confusion spread over Saks’ face. He clearly didn’t know what was going on any more than Chrissy did. Her heart broke for him. Poor Saks had no idea what was about to hit the fan.

  “Chrissy,” her grandfather said in his gravelly voice. “Your father told me you would take care of last night’s unfortunate situation.” He elbowed the stranger beside him. “See, Vito. We can have a nice breakfast now and not worry about business. The young people have worked this out themselves.”