And as she lifted her hips, I didn’t even have to unbuckle them to slide them down her body.
12
Amberly
My mind and body screamed at me to stop. To halt. To fight, because this wasn’t good. Because it would hurt. But my heart told me to keep going. I’d dreamt of Saint for years in those molded beds. Those dusty hotel rooms. My mind somehow, in its unconscious state, kept reminding me that sex was glorious. That sex didn’t hurt. That sex wasn’t from the Devil, and wasn’t used as a weapon to punish disobedient children like my parents always taught me. I trembled as my shorts fell to the ground. I shivered as Saint’s lips fell against my ankle. My eyes fluttered open and I watched him as he kissed up my leg. I watched as goosebumps prickled my skin.
I watched as his eyes found mine.
“Oh,” I breathed.
“Is this okay?” Saint murmured.
I nodded quickly and his eyes closed. His hands found my hips, and the entirety of his palms engulfed them. My head fell back into the cushions of the couch as his breath panted against my pussy. It was warm. It made my body shiver. And as his fingertips pulled my damp panties off to the side, I arched into his tongue when it fell against my clit.
“Shit,” I hissed.
I reached for his hair, fisting it as I pulled him closer. This didn’t hurt one bit. This felt amazing. Like my first time did with him. His hands meandered around my body, massaging my breasts and stroking along my stomach. He quickly slid my thighs over his shoulders, opening me up as the couch cradled me within its cloud-like grip. I rolled against his lips. His stubble tickled my pussy folds. I hadn’t felt this good in years and something quickly tightened in my gut.
“What—I—Saint—I’m—I’m gonna—”
My body locked out and my thighs fell against his cheeks. My hands shook in his hair as I held tightly onto him, trembling for dear life. His tongue flicked my clit effortlessly. My body spiraled into an endless, beautiful abyss. And as the foggy haze lifted from my mind, I figured that was it. That he’d want me to return the favor now.
Except, he didn’t stop.
“Saint. Saint. Saint,” I gasped.
Something breached my entrance and I jumped. I shoved myself back into the cushions and my eyes fell open. I gazed down at him, feeling him stop as he looked up at me with those ice blue eyes of his.
“No-no-no-no, don’t stop,” I begged.
He grinned as I watched his finger sink into me. Oh, it was just him. And his touch ignited a fire in my gut. I watched him pump his finger once. Twice. Three times, before he added another. My jaw unhinged in silent pleasure as his tongue fell back to my pussy. He pressed deeply into my clit, stroking my wet walls with his fingertips as I bucked ravenously against him.
And before I knew it, that tightening sensation happened again.
“Oh—oh my, gosh—Saint—it’s—you—I—”
“Whenever you’re ready, beautiful,” he murmured.
“Shit,” I choked out.
I spiraled again. Stars burst in my vision as my toes curled against his back. My juices dripping down my ass crack, creating a mess underneath me. But I didn’t care. The only thing I cared about was getting Saint closer. Was feeling more of him.
Was exploring his body for the first time again.
His fingers slowly slid from between my legs and his tongue slowed its ministrations. I gasped for air, sinking back into the couch as my legs fell limp around his shoulders. He massaged me. His hands softly massaged my thighs as he pulled away from me, allowing my legs to fall closed. And even though I wanted to pull him back to me, I couldn't move.
I felt too good to move.
“How’s this feel?” he asked.
I nodded slowly, unable to speak as his hands worked their magic. He massaged my thighs, working his way down my calves before coming to my feet. I moaned out into the room as tears crested my eyes. It’d been so long since I’d felt… good. Just genuinely good. And here I was, with a man I hadn’t gotten off my mind in years, and he was massaging me. Paying me attention. Treating me with kindness instead of hatred. Respect, instead of control.
“Thank you so much,” I whispered.
My voice hiccupped and he slowly dropped my feet. He scooped me up, and away we went. Back down a hallway before we entered into a room. I tucked my head underneath his chin as a door closed behind us, and already I felt tired. Worn. Haggard, but in a good way. I sighed as he settled me down onto a bed, then pulled the covers over me.
“Don’t go,” I said softly.
“I’m not. I promise,” he murmured.
I heard the sounds of clothes falling to the ground before the covers beside me moved. And when I felt his chiseled muscles fall against my back, tears rushed down my face. I turned around and buried myself in him. In the warmth. In the strength. In the thickness of his muscles and the taut pull of his skin. He wrapped his massive arms around me, and I sighed with relief. I allowed the tears to fall as he stroked my hair, delicately avoiding the bald patches I had underneath my hair.
He kissed the top of my head, trying to tell me it’d all be okay now. That I was safe. That he wouldn't let me go unless I wanted him to.
And I started wondering if I could tell Saint what really happened to me. What was really going on.
What I really needed his help with, if he was willing to help.
“Please, tell me what happened to you. I—”
I looked up into his eyes, watching his dance between mine. He was so eager. So curious. So… worried. At least, I thought that was worry in his eyes. I hadn’t seen that look in someone’s face in so long, though, I honestly wasn’t sure.
You can’t tell him everything. He’ll hate you for it.
“I needed the money, Saint,” I whispered.
He paused. “Why?”
“Because my parents kicked me out.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why would they do something like that?”
“I just—started becoming rebellious. Doing things they didn’t want me doing. Engaging in things they didn’t want me engaging in. My grades slipped. Going to church and running me through the ringer of our pastor didn’t help at all. Only made things worse.”
I watched him sniff out what was a lie and what was truth like a damn dog before he nodded. I knew he knew I was lying. At least, partially. But I couldn't tell him the whole truth. He’d feel like an asshole. Like all this was his fault.
He’d probably think I was a bad mother, too.
“Did they just snatch you off the street, then?” Saint asked.
My eyes fell to his chest. “I met a man named Vlad. And he was nice, at first. Treated me well. But, you know, things don’t last like that. Abuse crept in. Manipulation tactics.”
“Did he force you to work on the streets like this?”
I nodded slowly, unable to look him in the face. “Yes.”
He vibrated with fury. “Why didn’t you ever contact me, Amberly? I could’ve helped you.”
I scoffed. “After my parents kicked me out, you were the last thing on my mind. I mean, no offense, but I was kind of trying to figure out how to sleep in dumpsters without smelling like one.”
He crooked his finger underneath my chin and pulled my gaze up to meet his.
“Which is why you should’ve come back to school. Told me what happened,” he said.
“After stealing glances at you in class and screwing around with you once? I mean, it wasn’t like we were exactly friends back in high school.”
He winced, and I knew my words had hurt him.
“I’m sorry, I just—”
“I get it. It’s okay,” he said.
His finger fell away from my chin and I wished with all my might I could take back my fucking words.
“Saint, I’m sorry,” I said.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re right,” he said.
“I wish I wasn’t.”
“Me, too.”
His h
and slid down my body before taking up camp against my waist. And as I closed my eyes, I drew in a deep breath.
“I mean, it just would’ve been awkward, right? Coming up to you, smelling like garbage, telling you I needed your help?” I asked.
“Did you think I wouldn't have helped?” Saint asked.
I shrugged. “I don't know. I’d just been kicked out of my home by the two people who were supposed to love me unconditionally. That kinda fucks with a girl.”
He snickered. “Cursing. It suits you.”
I giggled. “I’m glad you approve.”
He paused. “So, why didn’t you come back to school and tell someone what happened? Why just disappear?”
I shook my head. “You wouldn’t understand. I can’t—”
“I’ve understood so far. What’s a little more?”
“You know what happened, and that’s that.”
“My parents kicked me out too, you know.”
My eyes shot up to his. “What?”
He nodded slowly. “I come from an ultra-religious background, like you. My mother had me in confession more times as a kid than I care to count. They saw a hickie you left behind on my neck and threw me right out onto the street. If there’s anyone on this planet that would understand your story, Amberly, it’s me.”
I paused. “I got you thrown out?”
He shook his head. “No, you didn’t. My parent’s ultra-conservative ways got me thrown out. Especially after rebelling so hard during my teenage years. I know you’re lying about your rebellion, though. You were the sweetest, kindest, most innocent girl back in high school. I don’t know what you’re hiding, but know I’m here once you want to talk about it.”
“My parents found your hickie, too,” I whispered.
He cupped my cheek, and I felt all the love, sympathy, and compassion in the world bleed from his skin to mine.
“I’m sorry for all you went through because of me,” he murmured.
I shook my head quickly. “Just like it wasn’t because of me that you got kicked out, it’s not because of you that I got kicked out. Or that my parents didn’t take me back.”
He paused. “Wait, you tried to go back?”
Shit. Stop running your fucking mouth, Amberly.
“That’s why I didn’t come back to school. They threw me out over Christmas break, and I tried coming back to them. But when they didn’t take me back, I had to go seek shelter for the winter storms. There was no school at the time. Just homeless shelters and women’s shelters I could take advantage of during the harsh temperatures,” I said.
Though, I spoke it a little too quickly.
Saint stared at me for a long time, and I cowered underneath his gaze. But when I attempted to pull away, he pulled me back to him. He wrapped me up in his arms and pulled the covers over us, tucking us in as we shared the same pillow. His eyes danced between mine as he tried to read me. Tried to squeeze out what I hadn’t told him yet.
But he didn’t toss anymore questions my way.
“When you’re ready to talk more, I’m here, okay?” he asked.
I nodded softly. “Okay.”
“Just stay the night tonight, and in the morning, I’ll take you anywhere you want—or need—to go. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Good. Now, get some sleep.”
And as I slipped off into an effortless slumber, I had my first nightmare-free night in six and a half years.
13
Saint
I couldn't help but stare at her. When I woke up, I gazed upon her sleeping form and held my breath. I didn’t want to move her. I didn’t want to jostle her. I wanted things to stay like this for as long as possible.
So, I snuggled close to her and let my mind wander.
The conversation last night had been hard. There were a lot of rough truths I hadn’t considered over the years. Like, how we really weren’t friends. Or even together, back in high school. How that would have more than prevented someone like her from asking a stranger like me for help. But I knew she was still hiding something. I knew there was something else she hadn’t told me.
Especially after she let slip that she actually tried to go back home.
In some ways, it hurt that she wouldn’t tell me. And in other ways, I understood completely. We were still strangers. Maybe strangers who thought about one another—and the time we spent together in high school—a little too much. But that didn’t mean we knew one another. That simply meant we had a connection.
A connection that spanned over the course of years.
That counts for something, right?
She shifted and I moved with her. I told her I wouldn’t leave her, and I meant that. But I also told her I’d cook her breakfast. And my growling stomach alone would wake her up if I didn’t put something in it. I squeezed her softly, feeling her bones melding to my muscles. I pressed my lips against the crook of her neck, breathing in her musky scent before kissing her skin softly.
“Good morning, beautiful,” I whispered.
Then, I eased myself away from her.
She needed a well-rounded breakfast. Hell, we all did. But, I’d keep my focus on her for now. I slipped out of bed and rummaged around for my jeans, then stepped into them. I pulled them up, fumbled with the button as I walked out of the room, then ran my hands down my bare stomach.
“All right, what to do for food,” I said, sighing.
I yawned as I walked over to the coffee pot. The most important thing first. We had three coffee pots we always had going in the mornings because all of us could really chug it down. So, I made sure all three of them were filling up before I started making breakfast. I started with the eggs. I made an entire dozen of them before moving to frying up a package of bacon. I churned out buttered toast like it was my job, then reached into the fridge to pull out some fruit for a salad I wanted to make.
Until I heard the soft pitter patter of footsteps sounding against the floor.
I looked over my shoulder and caught her shadow first. She paused at the doorway of the hallway, staring at the table stacked with food. Her eyes bulged. I watched her nostrils flare before her eyes met mine. I motioned for her to sit down at the plate I’d put out for her, then went back to slicing up fruit.
But, instead of going to sit down, she approached me from behind.
“Morning,” Amberly said softly.
Her hands slid around my torso and I grinned. Her hands meandered along my abs, her fingertips rumbling over the expanse of them. Her cheek leaned against my back as a yawn left her lips, and to me? There was nothing that felt better.
“Morning,” I murmured.
“Did you make all this for me?” she asked.
I snickered. “Until the guys get up, at least.”
She pulled away from me, and just that quickly I wanted to pull her back. I also wanted her to eat, though. I finished up the fruit salad and listened as she dipped up food onto her plate. Eggs and bacon. A slice of toast. I poured her a mug of coffee and got her some water, then handed her the fruit salad.
And once her plate was piled high, I constructed my own.
“Thank you,” she said sheepishly.
“Eat as much as you want,” I said. “Then, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
She paused her movements, and I watched her carefully. It took her a long time to start moving again, and I wanted to know what she was thinking about. What she had felt in that moment. I gave her a little bit to open up of her own volition. I mixed some sugar into my coffee, watching as she stabbed at her eggs. Watching as she filled her mouth. Watching as she swallowed hard, trying to get the food down into her stomach as quickly as possible.
Then, her eyes finally met mine.
“I don’t really have anywhere to go,” Amberly said softly.
“So, where were you headed last night, then?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Vlad’s. I know where it is.”
“Why would you go back to the ma
n that got you into this situation in the first place?”
“I don’t have any other options.”
“You always have options, Amberly.”
She shook her head. “You wouldn't understand.”
“Then, try me. Try to make me understand.”
She scoffed as she stabbed at a piece of cantaloupe. I wanted her to open up to me. I wanted her to trust me with whatever it was she wasn’t telling me yet. But I couldn't force her to do something like that. She had to want to do it of her own volition.
“Amberly, I don’t know what you’re still hiding, but it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” I said.
She shook her head quickly. “The second you figure it out, you’ll hate me. And I want to enjoy this a little while longer.”
“I could never hate you, Amberly.”
“You hardly know me. It might be very easy. You never know.”
“I do know. And I know I could never hate you after how many times I’ve thought of you over the years,” I said.
Her eyes slowly panned up to mine. “You—thought about me a lot?”
I nodded. “Yes. And now that you’re here, I need you to know that I’ll do anything I can to protect you.”
Her eyes slowly traveled down my torso before they fell to her plate. She started eating again, but they were mindless motions. Her memories were elsewhere. Her eyes, unfocused. Her movements became mechanical, and I gave her the silence she needed to sift through things. Never in my life could I ever imagine what she’d been through over the past few years. Never in my life could I ever imagine how she felt right now.
That didn’t mean I wouldn't try, though.
“Amberly?” I asked.
Dead Souls MC: Prospects Series Books 1-5 Page 38
