“Where is he now? I’ll go to him with my medical kit.” Olivia didn’t have her own personal kit, but she’d risk rummaging through the hospital’s supply closet to get what she needed.
She didn’t think the hospital would mind. This was an emergency, after all. They were so understaffed no one would find out about her theft. She was borrowing, not stealing. Olivia would pay for what she’d taken. She wasn’t a criminal.
“At the clubhouse, probably in his office, brooding. He does that a lot,” Bonnie told her helpfully.
“Isn’t the clubhouse being renovated?” she asked.
“It is.” Bonnie sighed. “But he’s there nonetheless.”
Hawke groaned on the bed. “Bonnie?”
Bonnie immediately rose from the armchair and sat on the edge of Hawke’s bed. She grabbed his arm and the way the couple looked at each other, with such utter devotion, made her a little envious. Olivia decided to give them some privacy.
“Olivia?” Bonnie called out when she walked towards the door.
“Yes?”
“When you see him, tell him his daughter thinks he’s a pain in the ass.”
Chuckling, Olivia exited the room. There was only one biker standing watch outside the room.
“Where’s Iron?” she asked.
“Getting some coffee from the vending machine outside.”
“Thanks.” Olivia made a quick trip to the supply room. She grabbed an empty first-aid kit and filled it with supplies.
“Olivia, good work today,” someone else called as she hurried her way to the parking lot. Olivia forced herself to slow down.
“Have a good night, Jean,” she called back, making sure the other nurse wouldn’t see the case tucked in her arm.
What the hell was she doing? She hadn’t even been working at St. Luke’s long, just a few days, and here she was, stealing hospital supplies. Why was she risking her career and reputation over one man? This is Saint, she thought, pushing all her doubts away. Saint needed her, even though he didn’t know it yet. For all she knew, Saint was lying about his graze.
She hunted down Iron and found him right outside the hospital doors, nursing his smoke. Iron glanced at her when he caught sight of her.
“Ready to head home, Nurse Hawkins?” he asked.
No matter how many times she reminded him to call her by her first name, he never did.
“No. Take me to Saint. Bonnie tells me he’s injured and brooding in his office.” Olivia patted her pilfered kit. “I want to tend to him.”
Iron’s eyebrows shot up. “Now, I’m getting a little jealous.”
“Of being shot?” she asked in a skeptical voice.
“No, that a pretty and caring woman is worried about our prez.” They walked to Iron’s bike. Olivia preferred riding behind Saint. At the rate Saint was going, she wondered if they’d ever get to their first date.
Chapter Eight
Saint restlessly paced in his private office. Back and forth he went, lighting one cigarette then another until smoke filled the tiny space. He blew out a cloud of smoke. Saint decided some whiskey might help ease the headache at started at the base of his skull. He finished his cigarette and poured himself a glass of the clear amber liquid. He hunkered down in his chair, sipping.
Alcohol didn’t help calm his nerves at all. Remembering what happened earlier this afternoon only served to fuel his growing rage.
“Fuck the Dragons,” he muttered under his breath.
If Hawke hadn’t been there to shield Bonnie from the shooter, Bonnie would be in the morgue right now. Thinking about Bonnie’s pale body, a bullet between her eyes making her face unrecognizable, kindled wrath in his gut. It was all kinds wrong for a daughter to go to the dirt first before her old man. A damn sin.
Coming after him and Bonnie was probably retaliation for Saint burning those fuckers’ warehouses. Low-bellied cowards. Why couldn’t they give him and his MC a good old-fashioned fight instead? Why did they have to sink to such pathetic depths to get back at him? Bonnie and those he cared about weren’t fair game.
A knock on his door made him growl.
“Leave me the fuck alone,” he yelled. On any other day, Saint kept his door open to his MC brothers. He was the President. One moment, he was the ruthless king they needed. At other times, he was the father and brother to them all. He usually offered a listening ear to their problems, but tonight, he wasn’t in the mood for company.
The knock came again, insistent. Before Saint could sprout another obscenity, the knob turned. Seeing Olivia standing there in her light-green scrubs gave him pause. The dark cloud that had surrounded him immediately disappeared at the sight of his sexy nurse. His woman.
“Bonnie told me what happened earlier,” she said, clutching at a medical kit.
Did Olivia come here immediately right after hearing the news? A slow smile curved on his lips. So, despite her insistence on keeping things simple between them, she was going back on her word. Maybe she was falling fast for him, too. Satisfaction curled in his gut.
“You want to play nurse and patient?” he asked.
Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m not into roleplaying.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. What are you into then?” Saint mused out loud. “Me spreading you on my bed and riding you so good and hard until you can’t stop screaming out my name?”
She bit on her lower lip. “I came here to help you, you ass. I’ll forgive your poor manners seeing as you’re obviously drunk. Behave or I’ll leave.”
“Don’t leave.” The plea in Saint’s voice shocked him. Saint never begged anyone for anything. Ever. He worked his ass off his entire life and was willing to get his hands dirty to keep the MC running lean and mean machine.
“I won’t,” she assured him. Olivia took a step further inside his personal domain, his den. She shut the door behind her, and that was her mistake. Olivia just trapped herself in here and there was no way he was letting her go tonight without having a taste of her first.
Business with the Red Dragons MC had kept him busy over the past three days. Not being able to be near her, to talk to her, had created a vacuum in his heart. Fuck, but he was getting all sentimental over a woman. Too obsessed. That had never happened to him before and yet Olivia wielded the power to completely undo him.
“Bonnie mentioned you got shot in the shoulder. Take off your jacket.” Olivia was all business as she set the kit down.
“Here I was thinking that you came here for sex, that tending to me was all an excuse. I’m disappointed.” Saint rose from his seat and took off his jacket with a wince.
“Shirt, too.”
Saint was happy to comply.
Whatever protest or witty remark Olivia had ready died as she stared at the wound he’d hastily bandaged. Saint had to admit it looked bad. She hurried over to him and bid him to sit back down.
“What did you do?” she demanded. With gentle but firm fingers, she peeled off the bandages he put over the wound. A gaping wound the size of a quarter stared back at Saint. “What did you use to take the bullet out?”
“My knife.”
Olivia groaned. “Damn it. Stubborn man. What if the wound got infected? You really should’ve gone to the hospital. We’d have this taken care of it an hour and it’ll heal right.”
Damn but Saint loved it when his woman fussed over him. This was pretty nice.
“Hate hospitals.”
“I know. Bonnie mentioned.”
“You two are fast friends now? By the way, thanks for seeing to Hawke.”
“I overheard Iron and his pal talking. You weren’t a fan of Hawke at the beginning, as I understand.”
Saint scoffed. “I wanted someone better for Bonnie, but Hawke’s risked his neck for her plenty of times. I have to accept her poor choice in men. Hawke’s a mistake, I still believe that, but I have no choice in the matter. Bonnie’s a grown and married woman. Besides, I have a grandson now.”
Saint let her hear the pride i
n his voice. Despite his initial disapproval of Hawke, he trusted the former Navy SEAL to protect his baby girl and grandson. Bonnie and Hawke wouldn’t be staying in Redemption for long, thank God. They’d move back to the city where Olivia was taking college classes. They’d be safer there. Far away from the constant bloodshed and violence that surrounded Redemption and the MC.
“Apparently, the same affliction runs in me,” Olivia mumbled.
He studied Olivia. Saint was slowly but surely dragging her into his world. A better man would’ve let a treasure like Olivia go. Let her live the rest of her life in peace after Saint took care of Brett. Too bad Saint wasn’t a decent man. The moment the heat of her body, her luscious lips touched his, he was a goner.
“I’m not a mistake,” he said, gripping her arm. “I’ll prove that to you.”
“How will you do that when I’m finding it hard to believe you’ll still be alive to take me out on our first date?” Olivia suddenly pressed a gauze filled with disinfectant to the wound. Saint hissed through his teeth at the sudden sting.
“Damn it, woman. At least give me a warning first.”
“Oh, come off it. I’m sure you’ve endured worse,” she said in a sweet, honeyed voice. Even when she was obviously mad at him for getting himself hurt, Olivia was fucking glorious. How had he lived his entire life without her?
Saint had to make up for lost time. Once she finished dressing the wound and cleaned up all her supplies, Saint circled her waist with his good arm. She ended up on his lap. Saint didn’t push, didn’t press. He waited for her next move. If she got back up and left his office, he wouldn’t stop her. He’d resume the chase some other time.
He usually got his way with women most of the time. Saint didn’t have to do a thing. Just one wag at a club whore would send her running to his bed. Olivia wasn’t like any other woman. She was old lady material. Never in a million years did Saint think he’d ever pick an old lady, but she’d changed his mind the moment they saw each other again at O’Riley’s.
Olivia locked her arms behind his neck, gazing up at him. There were too many clothes between them. Saint didn’t miss the way she raked her gaze over his body. He kept himself in tip-top shape because his body was a weapon. At forty-three, Saint wasn’t getting younger. He liked that Olivia appreciated what she saw. She even wet her pink lips.
“You’re hurt. We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered, running her hands up and down his inked chest. Damn, but her touch was addictive. He banded one arm behind her ass, pressing their bodies closer. Their clothes needed to get out of the way. Soon.
“It’s just a scratch.” There was only an ache in his shoulder, but Saint wondered if the whiskey dulled the pain a little. He wasn’t drunk. Saint felt wide awake. Olivia sitting on his lap sobered him right up.
“Of course you’d say that,” she said.
Before she changed her mind and decided Saint needed to heal, he took her mouth. Saint didn’t hold back. He shoved his tongue down her throat and slipped his hand under her top. He ran his callused fingers over her smooth and creamy skin. When he pulled his mouth away, he tugged at the hem of her top.
As if she knew what he wanted, Olivia raised her hands, letting him peel off her top. Saint reached for her bra clasp and undid it, letting the beige fabric fall to the ground. Seeing her tits hardening for him made his dick thicken. Her pants needed to go next. Before he could rip them off, Olivia pressed a hand to his chest.
“Scoot backward.”
Saint did as she asked. Olivia slipped off his lap, only to peel her bottoms and underwear away. She stood in front of him, naked and achingly beautiful. Olivia almost didn’t look real. She took him completely by surprise when she knelt between his legs. Saint quickly undid his belt buckle. She reached for the zipper of his pants and pulled it down. Olivia drew out his cock, caressing it with her slim fingers.
He groaned. Her touch on his most intimate part felt too amazing for words. Saint speared his fingers through her hair, bringing her mouth close to the crown of his cock. She wetted her lips then licked the pre-cum gathering at the tip. She dragged her tongue downward, the motion painfully slow.
“You’re too good at this,” he murmured.
She closed one hand over his base and lapped him up like a cat who got her cream. Saint gave her hair a tug. She opened her mouth and took his girth down her throat. Saint wasn’t small in that particular area. She gagged on the first try but seemed resolute to try again. Olivia tried again and succeeded this time around.
Olivia painted an erotic picture, sucking and taking his cock like a fucking champ. She bobbed her head up and down, her mouth a warm suction. He grew hard under her care. Saint pulled at her hair again, making her pause.
“I need to finish in you.” His voice came out ragged, harsh. She stood back up. Saint pulled his wallet out from his back pocket and retrieved the condom there. Olivia settled on his lap again, taking the silver packet. She broke it and sheathed his dick with the thin latex. He’d prefer to take her bare, but that would have to wait for another time. Right now, his need, and hers, was so palpable, he could hardly wait to be inside her.
He dug his hands into her bare ass and guided his prick to her pink pussy.
“Do it. Ride me, Saint,” she whispered.
Saint didn’t need any further urging. He buried his cock deep inside her wet heat and fuck, was she tight for him. Saint didn’t push all the way in right away. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to go slow, wanting to make their first time as pleasurable as possible for her.
Olivia dug her nails into his shoulders, panting, eyes closed. She murmured his name over and over again like a prayer. His name sounded so sweet on her pretty lips.
Saint finally buried himself to the hilt. He groaned as she milked him, urging her pussy muscles to clamp down hard on his dick. Christ. This woman would be the death of him. He fucked her, starting on a rhythm that suited them both before picking up the pace.
The feel of Olivia’s heavy breasts constantly rubbing against his chest as he hammered in and out of her only spurred him onward. He kissed her swollen lips again, loving the taste of raspberries that filled his mouth. She left half-crescent marks on his shoulders, his upper back. Saint pounded into her like she was his salvation. He’d probably leave bruises on her fair skin but right now, neither of them seemed to care.
Olivia met him for every thrust, hungry to consume him the way he wanted to devour her.
Chapter Nine
Olivia’s entire body felt like it was on fire. She was acutely aware she was bouncing on Saint’s lap, riding him like some experienced cowgirl without utter shame. That emotion had flown out the window a long time ago. Each time he entered her, filled her, it seemed he was able to lure some savage and beautiful animal clawing its way out of her. Her soul, struggling to touch his.
He pistoned in and out of her, strokes relentless and merciless. She craved it all. His roughness, his need. His next stroke brushed against that sensitive part of her that made her gasp. Olivia arched her back as Saint kept ramming into her G-spot. Dot danced into her vision. Saint’s office blurred away from her line of sight. The pressure steadily building inside her threatened to burst open.
She clawed at him like an animal. Olivia hardly recognized herself anymore but damn, this felt amazing. She never knew sex could be this way. Saint’s next entry sent her over the edge of oblivion. Olivia cried out, coming apart as her mind flew twenty-thousand feet into the air.
Several thrusts later, Saint erupted, resting his forehead against hers afterward. They didn’t speak for a few seconds. Olivia couldn’t get a handle on words for one thing. Saint simply held her, his big hands firmly set on her waist.
She rested her head against his chest, careful not to lean against his injured shoulder. Olivia brushed her fingers lightly over the spot of blood on the bandages.
“These need changing again,” she said.
“You might be right,” Saint conceded.
<
br /> “What now? Do you want me to leave?” Olivia’s voice was matter-of-fact, but deep down?
She didn’t want to go anywhere. Three days hadn’t improved her opinion of her father’s old house. She still slept on the living room couch and only went upstairs to shower. It still felt like she was living in some stranger’s home. Olivia hadn’t found the time to contact the contractor Saint suggested either. She was still trying to get her daily routine down. Double shifts at the hospital left her exhausted and wrung out at the end of the day.
“What are you saying? You’re not going anywhere unless you have some place to be.” Saint kissed her quickly on the mouth. “Stay the night with me.”
“Where?”
“My room. Upstairs.”
“Okay.” Her heart beat quickly. She got off Saint’s lap and fumbled for her clothes. Only Saint could see her naked. When Iron had brought her here, she spotted a couple of Saint’s MC brothers hanging both inside and outside the clubhouse. It didn’t seem to matter the place was still in a state of repairs. She remembered to grab her medical kit.
Saint didn’t bother dressing up. He zipped his pants and led her back outside, to the bar area of the clubhouse. A few of his men were drinking, playing poker on some of the tables. Some whistled as Saint led her by the hand across the floor. She did notice that there were only a few of them. There weren’t any club whores in sight either. The place was still closed for business, it seemed. She soon understood why.
Olivia missed the tarp covering some of the broken windows earlier.
“Are those bullets in the walls?” she asked Saint as they started on a flight of stairs which she presumed led to the MC members’ living quarters.
“The place’s structurally sound, don’t worry,” Saint said.
She wasn’t completely assured. I’m safe, Olivia told herself. Iron had mentioned they’d doubled the guards around their businesses since the attack. Saint led her inside his room. She’d been in here before, although Saint probably didn’t know that. She told him that now.
Saint's Fall (Fallen Saints MC Book 3) Page 5
