No Saint

by Jo Raven

  “You do that,” I breathe.

  “I’m sorry,” she suddenly says, “you’re exhausted, and I’m making you sad.”

  “Don’t apologize to me, ever.” I grip her tighter. “Dammit, girl, if it wasn’t for you, I don’t know what would have happened. I’d have rotted away in prison. And... life makes me sad sometimes. Not you.”

  She nods, hugs me back, giving as good as she gets. “You can’t give up. Please, Ross. Promise me.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  “If things get to be too much, you call me. You hold me.” Her heart is thumping hard against mine. “Promise that, too?”

  “You pulled me back from the brink, more than once, and I...” I swallow hard. “I won’t give up. I swear.”

  She wipes at her eyes, and I kiss her tears. “One day, will you tell me what happened to you in prison?”

  “Nothing happened.” My reply is automatic, defensive.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” she whispers. “I’ll be here.” And she curls against my chest like a cat, her curls tickling my chin.

  The girl who saved me in every way. Who says she loves me. Who keeps her promises.

  My girl.

  “Come here.” I stroke her curls from her forehead. “I’ll tell you a story.”

  Her face grows serious as she nods against my chest. I’m damn sure she knows by now that my stories are no fairytales, that they aren’t fiction.

  “Once upon a time there was a guy called Ross who went to prison,” I start. “He had a hard time with the inmates, he almost died of an overdose of pills they gave him because they wanted him dead. Because he himself wanted to die.” She flinches against me, a gasp escaping her, so then I say to hell with it. “But he didn’t die. He doesn’t wanna die. He survived and had his happy ending. The end.”

  She thumps her small fist on my pec. “Just tell me the whole story, Ross. Please.”

  “That was the whole story. And I just thought of another one to tell you. Once upon a time, here was a guy called Ross who met a girl called Luna and they had lots of fuck-hot sex.”

  “Ross.” She’s laughing helplessly.

  “All day and night long.” I get up, lifting her in my arms. “And you know what? This is a true story, a damn good story, and it’s about to begin...”

  EPILOGUE

  Three months later

  Luna

  “Got the marshmallows?” I yell, trying not to trip over Buddy who keeps sniffing at my feet as I walk.

  “All set!” Ross calls out from outside and I push the screen door with my hip, carrying out the tray with the hot chocolate, graham crackers and chocolate. Buddy follows hot on my heels, nose in the air, trotting down faster than I can to go nudge Ross who’s crouched by the fire pit with his wet nose.

  “S’up, Buddy?” He puts down the package of skewers he’s been tearing open, spreads his arms and Buddy jumps on him, throwing him on his back. Ross laughs, a wild, wonderful sound, and they tussle in the dirt.

  Even dogs will be boys, it seems.

  Shaking my head, unable to contain my laughter, I climb down the steps and set the tray on the crate we’re using as our impromptu outdoors table. “Shall I make the s’mores, then, since you guys are so busy?”

  “Are you crazy?” Ross sets Buddy aside and sits up, pushing pale hair from his eyes. “S’mores are an art. Observe and learn, young Padawan.”

  “Show me.”

  “What, this?” He lifts his shirt, and winks, and for a moment I’m struck speechless, staring at his ripped stomach, the rippling muscles.

  “The s’mores,” I manage, and resist the urge to fan myself. I shouldn’t feel so hot. It’s cool out here.

  “Hm...” He grins as he gets up, and there’s heat in his eyes.

  I love watching him do things, strong hands sure and steady, that look of concentration on his handsome face. I love learning from him. He knows lots of practical stuff.

  He doesn’t say it, but his dad must have taught him to make s’mores, just like he taught him to prepare a fire pit and light a fire, chop wood, fix broken appliances and engines. He rarely talks about his childhood, not willingly, not more than glimpses into the events that shaped him.

  It’s okay. I tell myself we have time. Without prison looming over his head, with the support of his family and John Elba’s long protective shadow, Ross has relaxed more. My dad says he likes him, Josh has even condescended to play videogames with him, and as for me... He spends every free moment he has at my side. He looks... happy. Really happy. The shadows that normally haunt his eyes seem to be fading.

  He spends time at the garage sometimes, and always invites me over to help him fix this or that engine. His Harley has been laid aside. He told me he’s not in a hurry to fix it, or go anywhere.

  The police have caught the gang, and Destiny is now a quieter place. A nicer place. Turns out quite a few people like Ross, and the fights and beatings are a thing of the past. Even his boss at work has finally started to warm up to him.

  The other news is that Merc thinks he has an idea who the second victim was—the mother of their other brother. He’s acting like he’s on a secret mission, and Ross loves teasing him about it, though the whole family is sort of waiting with bated breath to see if he manages to locate the elusive Finn, half-brother to them all.

  “Give them here.” He beckons and I give him the package of marshmallows, crouching beside him. The warmth of the fire plays over my face, makes me smile. “Here’s how you do this...”

  I watch as he spears them deftly in neat rows, how he places them over the crackling coals, and think how amazing it is to have him here, with me, after everything that’s happened. He settles the skewers over the coals, turning them here and there, then reaches out and snags an arm around me, pulling me against him.

  “Ross!” I almost topple on top of him, and he snickers, sitting down and hauling me on his lap. “You’re nuts.”

  “Nuts for you,” he says and sticks his tongue out at me. “Always. Since the beginning.”

  I let that sink in one more time. He always thought me pretty, always thought me clever... always wanted me. Me, as I was, as I am, and the new me decides that my old me wasn’t all that bad after all... A bit scared maybe. Insecure. But I’m still the same person. Still Luna. I only needed to find my strength, my faith in myself, and help Ross find his. It wasn’t my lack of a thigh gap that was the issue, or what others said about me, but what I believed to be the truth.

  And the truth is... I’m good enough. I’m fine. God, it took me so long to realize it. I’ll only be good enough if I accept myself, first.

  Plus... Ross likes me just the way I am.

  Buddy whines from his other side, then barks, breaking through my thoughts. “Hey, doggy,” I mutter distractedly. “What do you want?”

  “Do you think he’d like a s’more?” Ross asks seriously and I look up and right into his pretty pale eyes.

  Focusing on his question takes effort. “He shouldn’t. Dogs shouldn’t have sugar. I brought some of his treats.”

  “Hear that, Buddy? You get doggy sweets.”

  “Woof,” Buddy says seriously. Sometimes, I swear, he acts like he understands everything we say. He’s a dog-human. A human-dog. He’s our friend, and now that Ross has decided to stay at his dad’s house, Buddy splits his time between the two houses, this one and my own. It’s a new tradition. We’re setting up a new routine as the days pass. A new life.

  We decided to stay in Destiny, at least until Joshua finishes school, and then we’re thinking of moving to St. Louis. Matt Hansen has his own garage there and has offered Ross a job. I could work there, go to college... Dad and Josh would follow us eventually. It could become our new home.

  I think I’m coming to terms with being back in Destiny. It’s looking nicer by the day, and these warm evenings by the river, in Ross’s yard, are memories I’ll cherish forever.

  Ross has been silent, and I nudge him in th
e ribs. “Penny for your thoughts?”

  “Make it a dollar and you’re on.”

  I nudge him again, snickering, wind an arm around his neck. “You drive such a bargain.”

  “I know.” He sighs. “But my thoughts aren’t worth your pennies. I was just thinking that the summer is almost over... Winter is on its way. And...” His voice has dropped to a hush. “It’s okay.”

  “Of course it’s okay,” I whisper, not sure what brought on this strange mood. “They’re just seasons. We will be together, through winter and summer, wind and rain. Right?”

  “Right,” he breathes. He gives me one his rare, real grins that lights up his eyes and transforms his face. “Yeah, goddammit, that’s right.”

  I squeak when a very hard, demanding mouth lands on my own. Whatever else I was about to say or ask is gone in a deep kiss that has me wrapping my limbs around him, in a bid to get closer to him.

  Buddy whines, and we break apart, panting.

  “Well...” I lick my lips, my thoughts a train wreck. “Glad that was cleared up.”

  “Let’s eat some s’mores,” he says determinedly and I know this conversation is shelved. “Before they get burned.”

  “Can’t let these professional s’mores burn,” I agree. “Even if winter is coming.”

  One day I hope he feels comfortable enough to tell me about all his fears, all his weaknesses, and realize they are strengths in my eyes. All he’s had to overcome to be here today. That he really is beautiful inside and out. I hope to convince him of all that, just like he convinced me.

  But for now, watching him eat s’mores will have to do...

  ***

  Later, bellies full and lips sweet with sugar, we stumble together into the house, Buddy following us, sniffing every corner. You’d think he’s never been inside before.

  “Buddy, stay. You’re not sleeping on the bed again.”

  Buddy barks and sticks by Ross’s side, tongue lolling.

  “Aw he’s worried I will hurt you...” I bend to scratch him behind the ears.

  “She can’t hurt me, Buddy,” Ross tells him. “Got it? She won’t. She likes me.”

  “I do like him, doggy. Got it?” I pat the small furry head. “Always looking after Ross, aren’t you? You’re special.”

  “But I’m your special guy,” Ross mutters, grabbing me around the waist and dragging me into the bedroom, making me laugh. “Right?”

  “You competing with Buddy, now?”

  “Always and with everyone, when it comes to you.”

  I laugh again, but as his smile fades and his eyes lock with mine, I have to rise on tiptoes and kiss him. “Nobody can ever compete with you.”

  “Mmm,” he breathes, “good, that’s good. God, you’re sweet.”

  “So are you.”

  “S’mores, baby.”

  “I like.”

  He grins wickedly against my mouth. “I’ll give you s’more.”

  I laugh. “That was so cheesy.”

  “You like my cheesy lines.”

  “I like everything about you,” I whisper, overcome with happiness.

  “Compliments will get you on your back.”

  “Ross!”

  But I’m already landing on my back, as promised, and he’s tearing at my clothes like they’ve personally offended him. I feel my bra tear at the seams, then my panties. He doesn’t always get so rough, but tonight, it seems, he just can’t help it.

  “You okay?” I whisper, getting a bit concerned.

  “Okay? God. You have no fucking idea how sexy you are when eating s’mores, do you? All that finger licking and moaning with pleasure... Driving me crazy. A guy can only take that much.”

  “So you’ve been hard all evening?”

  “Fuck, yeah.” He shivers when I put my hands on the front of his jeans, stroking my palm over the hard evidence of his desire, then start flicking the buttons open. He’s gazing down at me as I work to get him naked, eyes dark with lust, lips parted. When my hands fall still, he growls and quickly shoves his jeans down.

  He’s gone commando, and his thick cock swings out, diamond-hard and flushed. It’s right there, looking painfully hard, and when I grip it, Ross groans, his hips rocking forward. Bowing my head, I take the tip into my mouth, my tongue playing with the piercing below.

  He sways a little. “Oh fuck...”

  Gripping a lean hip, I take him in deeper, his hard-on nudging the back of my throat, and I do my best to relax and suck, my hand squeezing the base. I can feel him shake, and another groan reaches my ears, followed by mumbling.

  “Luna... ah God, yeah, give it to me... dammit, girl...”

  Incoherent. Lost. I love doing this to him, giving him such pleasure that he can’t think straight. I’d grin around his girth if it were possible. I suck harder, turning his words into moans, and use my hand to stroke his balls.

  His cock jerks, and he makes a grab for my hair, callused fingers catching on my curls, as if he’s about to fall.

  “Oh fuck...” He moans, hips rocking, and the wave of lust rushing through me has me clenching so deep inside I gasp. He’s so sexy when he’s losing control. “You gonna make me come...”

  I’m torn between wanting that, to feel him shake and groan, and stopping so he can sink inside me.

  He seems to be having the same thought, because he pushes me away. “I wanna come inside you, sweets.”

  He grabs the string of condoms from the nightstand and rips one open with his teeth, then rolls it on his massive hard-on quickly. My gaze is caught on the way his long fingers wrap around his cock, stroking.

  My mouth is dry with want. I sit back, look up at him.

  “Girl...” His eyes blaze, pupils blown so that they look black in the dim light. “You have no idea what seeing you like this does to me. You’re damn hot.”

  “So are you,” I whisper and lean further back until I’m lying down, staring up at him. “Come here.”

  Magic words. Before I know what’s happening, he spreads my legs, licks and strokes me with his fingers.

  He loves doing that to me, but he’s in a hurry tonight. Guess what he said about having been hard all night wasn’t a joke. His fingers push deep into me, opening me up, making me squirm and moan. It’s almost too much, and the knowledge that that’s nothing compared to his hard-on is enough to make me arch up and tighten deep in my belly, pleasure shooting up my spine.

  Finally satisfied I’m ready for him, he flips me on my stomach, spreads my legs, and lays some of his weight on top of me, humping my ass teasingly for a few long moments, kissing my neck.

  “Want me, babe?” The laughter in his husky voice makes me shiver, as much as the feel of his swollen cock rubbing between my ass cheeks. “Think you can take me?”

  “I can,” I whisper, not sure if the hint of a question I’m hearing is in my mind or real, if I should be reading between the lines or not. “Always.”

  “All of me? All this badassery?”

  Yeah, I should always read between the lines with this damaged boy, who’s so full of arrogance, overconfidence and insecurity, all wrapped up in a sexy package. “All of you, Ross. With all my heart and soul. Now give it to me.”

  “You just want my big cock.” But he shifts and starts pushing into my pussy, robbing me of speech and coherent thought. “Admit it.”

  “Your cock is a big part of you,” I manage, my breath knocked out, like every time he enters me, and I earn myself a chuckle. “But I love the whole of you.”

  Groaning, he sinks into me deeper, and deeper, until I don’t think I can contain him despite my promises, and then he pushes some more, making me pant with both discomfort and pleasure.

  When he starts to thrust, I think I’ll die from how good it feels—and when he lifts me up to all fours, molds my back to his strong chest and gives it to me fast and hard, I come with a wail, clenching around his cock madly, again and again, dizzy from the release of pressure.

  He’s groaning my na
me, I realize when the roar in my ears finally dies down, and still rocking into me, still hard as a rock. He feels even bigger than before.

  “Ross...” I murmur.

  His reply is a tortured moan. The next moment, he hauls me up until I’m seated in his lap, impaled on his cock, his hand grabbing my breast, kneading it, playing with my nipples. He thrusts deeper into me, so deep I gasp and tighten again, feeling the pressure coiling, rising fast. He growls what sounds like a curse against my neck, his breath hot, his other hand slipping between my legs to strum my clit.

  It’s too much, the intensity gripping me tighter and tighter, sparking in my veins, squeezing my belly. I rock on his cock and he turns my head to kiss me, his tongue stroking mine, stoking the fire until I’m burning.

  “Ross,” I breathe against his lips when he releases my lips. “Please.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Harder. Make me come again.”

  “Hot damn, girl.” He releases my breast so he can grip my waist, lift me and drag me back down on his hard cock, his breath hissing. “You make me... I can’t fucking... oh shit, yeah.”

  He’s finally reduced to grunts as he pounds into me, hips rolling, thrusting hard, his teeth sinking into the skin of my neck, his hand gripping my breast so hard it hurts, the small nips of pain adding to the impossible tide of pleasure coming to drown me.

  It rolls over me without warning, wrenching a cry from my throat, bowing my back, until my head falls forward to rest on his shoulder. My legs are trembling.

  His stuttered moan turns into an almost-shout that I feel in my bones as his cock jerks inside me. He convulses, his hand dropping from my breast to my hip as the aftershocks rock him, and his bite on my neck turns into an open-mouthed kiss, soothing over what is sure to become a bruise. Ragged breathing washes over wet skin, making me shiver.

  “Did I hurt you?” he eventually manages to ask. Our lovemaking can be rough sometimes and I often have to hide love bites at home and at work.