by Crescent,Sam
“I spank them, and I play. Whatever I do is all about pleasure. What this asshole did, it was all about power, and violence. That I don’t agree with.” Vanilla stared up at the light that was showing them the passing of each floor.
Pea started laughing. “I wonder what this fucker will think if you tied him down and spanked him, maybe even gave him a little dick action.”
Saint shook his head. “I don’t need to see that.”
“We could tie him up,” Willy said. “Take pictures.”
“You could compare your dick to his,” Rage said.
“Fuck off.” Saint’s dick would be bigger anyway. He didn’t need to beat a woman to feel powerful.
The elevator pinged open, and there waiting for him was Simon Meyer.
“Gentlemen, I take it this couldn’t have waited for another day.”
Saint didn’t say anything as he stepped off the elevator. He stared at Simon and didn’t like him. This man hit women, he hurt them, and he did it without care. Rage had found some of the women Simon liked to batter around. Once he finished with them, they were turned out in the street.
“Let me guess, is this where you tell me to be nice and quiet and give Natasha her divorce?”
Following Saint’s lead, none of his men spoke.
“I always knew there was someone else.” Simon laughed. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
Saint stared at the man, looking him up and down. “You’re going to give her a divorce.”
“You really think I am?” Simon patted his lip and smirked. “No, I’m not. So, seeing as you’re the guy from her past, the one her father was always crazy about, did she just lie there and take it?”
“Oh, he did not go there,” Rage said.
“This guy is looking for a fight.”
Saint ignored his men and stared at Simon, focusing on him.
“I just figured she was frigid. You know how some women can be. She had a nice tight pussy though. I loved it when she had a little fight in her, when she didn’t want it—”
Saint had heard enough. Reaching out, he grabbed Simon by his jacket, and slammed him up against the wall. “You really don’t want to be talking about shit you’ve done with Nat.”
“You can’t do this.”
“I don’t see anyone wanting to defend you. You’re on your own, asshole.” Saint pulled him away, and launched him across the room several feet. “Simon, we don’t know each other. I’m Saint, the Prez of the Saint and Sinners MC. I don’t take orders. I give them out. You’re telling me that you raped your own wife!”
Bending over the man, he saw the coward that Simon was.
“Low, fucking scum, and we’re supposed to look up to lawyers? They’re the problem with the world. End him, Saint,” Pea said.
Grabbing Simon’s hair, Saint pulled him up to his feet, and then slammed his fist into Simon’s face for good measure.
Saint was never one to fight dirty, so he kept picking Simon up, and gaining his attention. The desire to snap his neck was so damn strong. Instead, he kept hitting him until he knew he had to stop.
“You’re going to divorce Natasha, and you’re going to do it without causing a problem. She doesn’t want you.”
“Why should I?” Simon asked.
“Besides the ass kicking you’re going to get?” Rage asked.
“I’m going to be very clear,” Saint said, pulling a pistol out of his back pocket. “You’re not the first guy I’ve killed.” He opened the barrel to let him know that it was fully loaded, and pressed the nozzle against his forehead. Simon winced and tried to back away. Blood dripped from his nose, and bruises began to appear on his face. The dark place encompassed Saint, and he was able to focus on the man that was the problem. Everything fell away. Natasha’s face, the memory of his parents, even the love he had for Elena. It all faded to nothing as he stared at the man that needed to go.
“You’re going to get put away for this,” Simon said.
“Yeah, you and me both.”
“I don’t—”
“Cut the crap, Simon. I’ve got enough evidence to have you locked away. You get off on blackmailing women. Humiliating them so they have no choice but to make sure the case swings your way. As you know, proof is everywhere, you just got to find it. You send me down, I’ll take you down with me.” He ran the tip of the gun all around Simon’s face before thrusting it into his mouth. “I’d happily kill you right now, but that’s not going to solve my problems. Do you want to die, Simon?”
“No!”
Saint paused, pressing his finger a little, and Simon started to scream, to beg, and he pissed himself. From the stench he may have even shit himself as well. Curling his lip up, Saint wasn’t impressed. “You see, if I go down, you’ll go down. I’ve got enough shit on you to keep you locked up being someone’s bitch by the end of the week, Simon.”
“Oh, I could see it now,” Vanilla said. “Him strapped to a bed as they take it in turns to break in the newbie.”
Simon whimpered. “I’ll sign the divorce.” He muttered the words around the gun.
“That’s good to know. If a single cop comes to my door, I’ll hold you personally responsible.” Saint removed the gun and slapped Simon’s face. “Good man.”
He didn’t wait around.
Without saying another word, he walked onto the elevator with his men trailing behind him. Only when the doors slid close did his men speak.
“Why is he still walking?” Vanilla asked.
“What the fuck, Saint?” This was from Rage.
“Tonight wasn’t about killing him, but about sending him a message. I want him to divorce Natasha, and he has the chance to leave her and us alone. If not, then I will fucking kill him.”
“This makes no sense.”
I don’t want another death on my conscience.
“It doesn’t have to make sense to you.” He had to do it this way. Natasha had run from him once, and right now he wasn’t about to risk her running again.
“I get it,” Pea said.
He turned toward the one man he doubted would have gotten it.
“If you kill him now, she’ll know, and then you’ll be back to square one. Only this time, she may not come back.”
Saint gritted his teeth.
“Prez?” Rage asked.
“To Natasha, I’m nothing more than a monster.” He’d never opened up like this to anyone. Apart from talking to Rage a few months ago, this was going beyond anything he’d ever said. “If her husband suddenly turned up dead, what do you think would happen? She’d run.”
“You don’t want her to run?” Vanilla asked.
“No, I don’t.” He wanted her to stay in Sinners’ Corner. “She knows I’m not a good man, and that I’ve done things that would scare her, but I also know I’m a better man than that fucker out there. I’d never hurt her, and with Dad gone, I’ve turned this club into something worth bragging about.”
“You may not think it, but we can all help you,” Pea said. “Other than Ralf, no one has gone missing.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
“We still waiting on Ethan?” Vanilla asked, changing the subject.
“He’s breaking the shit down, and then analyzing it,” Saint said. He didn’t understand the process, and probably never would.
Once outside, they straddled their bikes, and headed back to Sinners’ Corner. It was late, and they all made their way toward Pea’s house to see the damage that Melissa had caused. Ladies’ night always ended badly. Rage couldn’t sleep without Penny. Knife always wanted Sarah, and Pipe wouldn’t rest without Elena in his arms.
What did surprise him was Pea speeding toward the house. Usually on ladies’ night he spent time at the club, balls deep in one of the women there. This time, he was heading home.
Interesting.
Parking his bike on the drive, Saint followed Pea toward the house. At least they didn’t have to pry the women apart to get them to open the door.
The moment they entered the door, Saint heard giggling, and when he rounded the corner of the house to the living room, he saw them all attempting to play Twister. Several bottles were on the floor, empty.
Melissa had fallen on top of Natasha, and they were both giggling like schoolgirls.
“Vanilla,” Shannon said, squealing, and throwing herself into his arms. “I missed you.” She puckered her lips.
“Oh no, Daddies are home,” Melissa said. “Time to go back home so you don’t be late to school.”
“Pipe,” Elena said. “I drank a little too much!” She slurred her words, but Saint just smiled. His sister wasn’t his responsibility.
“I think tonight we’re going to be making baby number three,” Pipe said, smirking.
Elena sighed. “Probably.”
In the next second they were gone.
“Hey, Saint,” Natasha said, her eyes a little glazed over.
“Are you ready to go home?” he asked.
She closed her eyes and moaned. “Home, I love that. Home. I always thought I’d have a home with you.”
He leaned down, picking her up, and she wrapped her arms right around his neck. “You always do.” He whispered the words so that only she could hear.
“I like you.”
“Are you able to hold onto me on the bike?” he asked.
“Yep!” She gave him a hard squeeze, and then laughed as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever done.
“Come on. I’ll ride slow.”
“I know how good you can be when you’re slow.”
He left everyone alone as he made his way outside. This time he didn’t try to get the helmet on her head. He simply climbed on the bike as she straddled the machine, holding onto his tightly. She pressed her face against his neck, inhaling hard. “God, I miss your smell. You always smelled so good, Saint. Like home, only better.”
His dick thickened, and for a second he closed his eyes, and begged for strength not to bend her over and fuck her.
No, there wasn’t going to be any sex between them while she was drunk. He was going to be the better man. The good man. The man that she had always wanted him to be.
“Do you remember what it was like between us, Saint?”
“I’ve never forgotten.”
“Me neither. I was no good with Simon. He was a total ass, and he had a small dick. Thought I should worship him, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to be so open with him. It’s all my fault.”
“Him being a prick is not your fault.”
“Leaving Sinners’ Corner was my fault. I left you, and I left our future. In my world, in my head, there has never been anyone as good as you. I never stayed still for you. I never froze, or flinched from your touch. I always do that with him.”
Saint didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.
“I love being around you, Saint. Even when you’re moody, just like that first day. You make me want to try harder. I always want to make you smile, and to see that you are happy. I ruined that because I ran without looking back. I should have looked back.”
He pulled up outside of his own home, and waited for her to climb off. Saint got off just in time to catch her as she stumbled away.
“Whoops, you’re always catching me. Always making sure I do the right thing.” She held onto his arms, and smiled up at him. “Did you miss me while I was away?”
“More than anything.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I wanted to come home so many times, Saint. I was scared. I was scared of what I’d find, what you’d become. Then I was afraid that you’d move on, and I have no right to think like that. He was a monster, and he was ruining you. Ruining us. He was always getting in the way, and I hated him for it. What I hate more is that I listened to him. This is all my fault.”
“I’d have never let that happen.”
She sniffled. “He told me to leave so many times. Told me that I was a distraction, and you were going to get killed. I didn’t want you to die, Saint. He even tried to pay me to leave once. Your father tried to make me leave, but I was so stubborn to start off with.”
“Nat,” Saint said. He hadn’t known that.
“Your father hated me. He wanted me to go, and I walked away. I never took any money from him though. I just left, and hoped you’d survive. I failed us, Saint. Not you. Not anyone else, I did. I was too damn weak to keep on fighting him, and I left us. Can you ever forgive me?”
The wine was working a little too well, and she suddenly collapsed in his arms. Wine had always made Natasha a heavy sleeper. Picking her up in his arms, Saint carried her inside and all the way up to the spare bedroom. This wasn’t how their life was supposed to be. They should have had a chance, a family, a future.
“I didn’t know what my dad did, but I’m not going to let him get in the way.” He started to undress her, and placed her in some pajamas. Saint took care of her like he had done so many times growing up. “You’re mine. You were always mine, and I’m never going to let you go. Not ever.” Once he tucked her up in bed, he kissed her brow, and smiled at her.
With Natasha back in his life, he could handle anything.
****
Pea picked up the empty bottles, listening to his wife singing her heart out upstairs. Melissa couldn’t string two notes together, but it was still adorable. Dumping the empty bottles in the recycle can, he made his way up to the bedroom that they shared.
She stood in a sheer red negligee.
Melissa had always been a highly sexed woman, very sensual. He’d been drawn to her sexuality and her beauty. Pea couldn’t even deny that he’d found Penny attractive, her sister, but over the past couple of years, that attraction—on his side only—had fizzled out. Now he stared at Melissa, and he felt this burning need inside him. A yearning to be something more with her.
“I may have gotten a little drunk tonight,” she said, holding her finger and thumb close together.
“It’s not like you, getting this drunk.”
She scrunched her nose up. “Been a hard couple of days, weeks, years. I don’t know. I think I’m babbling.” She sighed and got to her feet. “I didn’t expect you to come home tonight.”
“Why?”
“Girls’ night, you stay at the club.”
“We had a little business to take care of with Natasha’s ex.”
“Ah, the asshole husband. He still alive?” Melissa asked.
“Yeah, maybe got a few bruises.”
“Wow, a few bruises. Saint is losing his touch.”
“Or maybe he’s wanting a woman a lot more than he’s wanting another death on his mind.”
Melissa pulled back the covers and climbed into bed.
Pea removed his jacket, and made his way into the shower.
“I thought you’d go back to the club with Shannon,” Melissa said just as he was about to enter the bathroom. Pea turned to stare at his beautiful wife.
“I wouldn’t go home with anyone,” he said.
“You used to. You like Shannon, don’t you?”
Turning to face the bathroom, he closed his eyes. “I haven’t touched her in a long time, Mel. I’ve not been with a lot of women in a long time.”
“Oh.”
Silence fell for several seconds.
“I’ve not been with any other men either.”
Nothing else. Neither of them said another word, and he made his way into the bathroom. Removing all of his clothes, he stepped underneath the shower. It had been a couple of months since he’d been with a woman. Shannon hadn’t graced his bed in over a year. The women that could vary from one woman to five every single night had slowly gone down to nothing. Now the only woman he wanted was his wife.
Seeing Shannon, semi-naked, hadn’t aroused him.
Nor had any of the other women. The moment he looked at Melissa, he’d been hot as fucking hell. Just thinking about the other day when he fucked
her in the kitchen, had been the single hottest moment he could remember.
Finishing his shower, he made his way back into the bedroom where he saw Melissa had already fallen asleep. He dried his body before climbing in naked beside her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her close, kissed her neck, and closed his eyes.
She felt so right in his arms.
“Pea,” she said. Her voice was so soft.
“Yeah.”
“Never leave me.”
It was the first time she had ever uttered those words. He couldn’t recall a single moment during their time together where she’d ever been vulnerable.
“I promise I never will.”
She sighed. “That’s good.”
Seconds later, she went back to sleeping, light snores coming from her mouth. Wrapping his arms around her, Pea closed his eyes, and knew there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
Chapter Six
“We’re going to enjoy the last really good weather before it gets too damn cold.”
“A barbeque for the whole club?” Natasha asked.
“You wanted to visit the club. Not only do you get to meet everyone, there’s also going to be food.”
“I like it.”
It was Sunday morning, and they were both sitting at the kitchen counter. She sipped her coffee while Saint read the newspaper and ate his cereal. To her, it felt very … domestic.
“You keep on staring at me. You’re making me nervous,” he said.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Ignore me.”
Saint ate some more of his cereal, and she sipped her coffee, staring at him over the rim of the cup.
“What is it?” he asked, putting his paper down, and focusing on her.
Damn, she got a little shiver having his hotness directed completely at her.
“It’s nothing.”
“Nat, it’s not nothing.”
“Okay, fine, Friday night.”
“What about it?” he asked.
Just ask him.
“I woke up in pajamas that I have no recollection of ever putting on.”
“So?”
“Erm, I wasn’t able to ask you yesterday about it. You seemed to rush off to do some stuff.”
“Club stuff.”
“Right, and I guess, how did I get into them?”
