Hostile Saint (Steel Stallions MC Book 1)

by India R. Adams

  Vice and Dagger were my babysitters for the night. Diesel and the Ryders had headed back home from Kansas.

  I believed everything was falling into place…

  That night, even Lace was surprisingly free of the drug’s sleep-inducing influence.

  Before I took a picture, she asked, “Is this enough light on my face?” while sitting next to her desk lamp.

  Due to technology, I was told the background of her pic didn’t matter but that a well-lit face was a must. “Yes. That smile will make for the perfect screensaver,” I lied.

  “Let me see.” Reaching up, she pulled on my hands to take a peek. Then her smile fell. Letting go of my hands holding the phone, her fingers cautiously touched her now short hair. “I wonder if it used to be longer.”

  Hating to see any pain on her face, I shrugged. “Let it grow out and see if you remember it.”

  Uncertain, she tugged at the shredded ends. “It’s so uneven. I wish I was allowed scissors to fix it.”

  If there was a way to make anything she wanted happen, I would do it. No questions asked. But all I had was a knife. One that I had used to kill her enemies. It didn’t feel right. Even when she pointed to it. “Think you could help me?”

  Thinking how the knife had already epically helped her, I thought of Dagger. “It’s not the blade that is dangerous. It’s the holder.” I repeated his words and then took hold of the back of her chair and rolled Lacey into the bathroom.

  She giggled, her little bare feet in the air, enjoying the ride.

  With the desk chair in her bathroom, she sat there, watching my mirrored image. I felt as if in a trance, studying the knife’s reflection in the mirror, lifting it toward her hair. I had been there when her golden locks were violently hacked off. Now, the guilty parties were gone, and the weapon that had murdered them was rectifying one of their cruelties.

  Taking a longer piece of hair, my blade easily sheered it off to make it more even with the other strands.

  When Lacey closed her eyes, I quickly asked, “What are you doing?”

  She smiled. “Trusting the holder. You.”

  To some, that haircut would have been no big deal. To me, it was monumental.

  As I sheered more hair, I said goodbye to a tragic memory from my past and gave it a happier ending.

  When I was done, I said, “Okay. Tell me what you think.”

  Observing her reflection, her eyes lit up. Her hair was no longer jagged. “I think you are perfect.” She leaned her head all the way back. “Don’t make me beg for sugar, Tate.”

  I had smiled so many times that day my cheeks actually hurt, but the one she made me smile that night? It was the best. I leaned down and kissed her. “I love you.”

  Gasp!

  I held the chair still as she moved quickly to her knees. “Tate, I… I don’t know if I’ve ever loved anyone else.” Her hazels watered as she swallowed. “But I know… I will always love you.”

  Jesus. H. Christ.

  My lips slammed to hers.

  We were never going to be apart again. I knew she would someday handle that we were already married, whether her memory ever came back or not.

  Fighting to win back the breath she’d just stolen, I held her face and put us forehead-to-forehead. “If you were to leave here tomorrow, what would you want to bring with you?”

  She smiled, hearing me loud and clear. I was promising to take her with me someday. Her lips kissed mine right before she said, “Only my journal.”

  The next night, Lynx, Elle, Dagger, Vice, and I were all sitting at the dining room table eating— “What are these called again?” I asked.

  Elle beamed. “Tacos!”

  “That’s right.” I shoved more in my mouth. “So fu’gging good.”

  Dagger laughed. “Kid, if you love tacos, you’re gonna love Texas. We have taco trucks everywhere.”

  Licking my fingers, I asked, “What does that mean?”

  Lynx explained, “Uh, little trailer-looking trucks that are kitchens on wheels, parked on the sides of roads.”

  Mind. Blown.

  He laughed at the expression I was making. “Yeah, you just ride on up to one. Hop off your bike, walk up to their little window, and order what you want.”

  Vice added sour cream to his fortieth taco. “Wolf-boy, they even have breakfast tacos.”

  Whatever my expression was doing now had them all choking on laughter.

  Wiping his mouth with a not-so-soft bamboo napkin—since Elle said we were not to kill trees that don’t grow back as fast—Vice told me, “Hey, Pup, be sure to give Lace some extra love tonight. She had a memory in Doc’s office tonight.”

  “W-What? Which one?”

  “The one where they stuck her in a bag and pushed her down the stairs.”

  Losing my appetite, I nodded. “Thanks for letting me know.” Not in the mood for their pity, I spoke before anyone else could. “Doc better not drug her tonight.”

  Dagger’s chuckle was a good distraction.

  I asked, “What?”

  He was grinning big time. “Prez informed Doc the drugs needed to stop.”

  Now I was smirking, staring at Lynx. “What did you do?”

  He took a swig of beer. “I left a note on his windshield telling him to do his job and stop fucking drugging his patients.”

  I shook my head. “You are badass. A fucking note?”

  Elle dabbed the corners of her mouth with processed bamboo. “The nerve of that fucker, drugging that baby. Let her smoke a joint if she needs better sleep.”

  Vice and Dagger stared, moaning in unison as if she was speaking of one of their most favorite things.

  I was shocked. “But the pamphlets at school said marijuana is very bad for you.”

  That hit a nerve of Elle’s. “Ah, yes, a plant made by the earth is bad, but the chemicals in our everyday food are just fine. Fucking hypocrites.”

  Dagger egged her on. “Get ‘em, Elle. Write our shitty leaders another letter.”

  “I will. And I’ll dump a truck of weed onto the White House front lawn.”

  Everyone started laughing again, except me. I had no idea what she was talking about or why the guys were saying that would be some funny looking broccoli. But I smiled. I was happy. I was blissfully unaware that very night was about to cause something from which I would never recover.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Demanding Peace

  As soon as I got to Lacey’s window, I saw Vice was right. She was lying in bed, tired red eyes watching me. She didn’t even get up to open the window. That didn’t stop me from entering. Tate was going to take care of his Pretty Girl, even if he had skipped the vanilla shake in his rush to be with her.

  “Hi,” I whispered, not shocked she didn’t reply.

  Crawling through the window, I teased, “Nah, Pretty Girl.” I closed the window since the night air was brisker than normal, reminding me the seasons were changing.

  So much was changing…

  Including Lacey.

  “No cryin’ tonight.” We had a new life to celebrate. She just didn’t know it. That’s why I told her something she did know. “Only sugar.”

  There’s the smile I want to see, forever.

  I stalked forward, “Oh,” smirking, “I see you like my kisses.”

  So very pleased she was awake, with no signs of passing out soon due to the fucking doc drugging her, I pulled back her blanket, wanting more of what she had given me the night before. “Is there anyone else who can give you sugar like me?” Gently, I pressed her left shoulder back to get her to lay flat. I was so hungry to feel her body underneath mine.

  I think we both groaned as I rested my weight on her perfect form. The contact had me suddenly wanting to lick everywhere.

  Her arms welcomed, as did her body.

  Trying to not let my hormones distract me, I asked, “Why was my Pretty Girl so sad?”

  Her whisper was full of tragic torture. “I finally had a memory.”


  I think I felt the blood drain from my face as I thought of Vice telling me this. There was no more hiding from it.

  Me not answering seemed to make her sound unsure. “You don’t seem happy for me.”

  I will never be happy for what they did to you, baby. “Those memories,” I shook my head, trying to clear all the ones suddenly attacking me all over again, “brought you pain.” My chest squeezed. “I think I just realized I was hoping they wouldn’t come back.” Is this my fault? “It must be me bringing them back.”

  Did I just say that all out loud?

  Perplexed, she asked, “Tate? Did you know me before I came here?”

  Fuck! I looked to the window, wanting to see Lynx and get his advice, but I was on my own. Or was I? Lynx had told me I was the only one of us in the rental home who had a wife. That decisions about her were up to me.

  I looked back to Lace. Is it time for you to remember, baby?

  I told myself I would give her a gesture. If she recognized it, if she knew what to do, I would have the sign I needed.

  I love you, Lacey. Slowly, scared about what she would do, I lifted my scarred left palm.

  Her mouth parted as she stared at it.

  Then, as if the angels I swore were with us the night we were locked in that trunk returned my faith, my wife lifted her scarred right hand, placing her palm to mine.

  Magic once again intertwining our lives, my heart thundered while I repeated words from what now felt like so long ago. “Hold my heart, Pretty Girl.”

  Her eyes, now aware, met mine. Then she reached into my soul and took a hold that would never be severed. “Evermore.”

  I exhaled. Hello, beautiful soul. “And there is our promise.” They didn’t break us.

  My lips descended to hers…

  As if walls inside her mind and heart were crumbling, making room for me and our new reality, her mouth opened. Like striking a match, passion exploded between us.

  Sensations that we had shared so many times, bloomed, bringing our bodies and desires back to life. Familiar touches sang to me that I was finding my way back home. Home. It was with Lacey. No matter what walls we lived within, we would always be home, if together.

  No name changes nor address changes would ever take that from us again.

  Lips wanting her, all of her, I found myself kissing her neck, desperate for all the tastes her flawless skin offered to me.

  As if willing to give me anything I wanted, her thighs opened, letting my hips sink toward the precious softness I had been without for so long; I wasn’t sure how I survived it.

  I groaned, “Babe,” fighting the incredible urge to move my hips and feel her clothed core against my erection before overtaking her delicious mouth again.

  I jolted when I realized my hips and dick had joined forces and moved on their own, rubbing against Lacey’s sweetness. They didn’t care what had ever happened to this part of her body. They refused to allow memories of the brothers to taint her beautiful soul. They knew Lacey was only mine.

  Lacey’s hands reaching for my ass and tugging told me I wasn’t pushing her too much.

  So, I surrendered to my body’s needs. As my hips surged, everything else faded.

  Like they had before, two souls blended, with no one else present.

  Old Tate and Lace were shutting out the world and all their problems, and were once again lost in each other.

  As my hand cupped her breast, her own hips lifted, giving me more access to where I wanted most. As a thank you to her offering, my thumb caressed her pert nipple.

  She moaned, spurring my hips to push harder, begging for entry into the softness I needed to house me. Cover me. Pull on me…

  Just the thought of what might be coming had my shoulders growing, possessively, daring anyone to approach the gift underneath me. No one was taking her from me again.

  I wanted inside my wife. No interruptions permitted.

  I was almost regretting leaving my weapons with Dagger and Vice.

  Especially as her hands slid under my cut, my t-shirt, touching my scarred skin with no surprised reaction. I stared at her as she caressed me. Her hands were the best touch I had ever felt. Don’t stop. Feel me.

  She did. She felt me, inside and out.

  Palms against my back, her hips lifted again. She whispered, “Please, don’t say no.”

  Denying her was the last thing I wanted, but I suddenly worried. “I could never say no, but—” Are you hurt? Is it okay for you to have sex? She didn’t even know she had been violently raped. Would my body cause hers more damage?

  Hungry thighs rubbing on the sides of mine, and my hips were telling me to proceed. Her words even more. “Tate, take these off.”

  If you feel pain, please tell—

  I suddenly thought of my own injuries and how fast I healed.

  I stared into hazel eyes, realizing we were the same.

  Unexpectedly, being slightly modified now kicked ass.

  I practically leaped out of the bed and started ripping off my clothes. I didn’t even care that my cut was on the floor. Getting between her beautiful thighs was all I gave a damn about.

  Lacey seemed to find my rushed stripping funny, because she giggled.

  So ready to reclaim intimacy with my Pretty Girl, I hurriedly got back in bed. Sitting on my feet between her legs, I teased, “You find my torture funny?”

  “Torture?” Smiling, she looked like a goddess on her back.

  My eyes scanned and searched for naked skin. “Yeah. Torture. I want you so bad it hurts.”

  “Then why am I still in this?” The goddess gestured to her sweatshirt, then laid her arms above her head, tempting me to strip her next.

  Don’t have to ask me twice!

  Lifting that shirt over her head, knowing she wasn’t wearing a bra to block my view of her naked breasts, I was licking my lips… until I saw new fucking scars.

  I had them all over my middle section. Why I hadn’t realized she would, too, I have no idea. But I again wanted my weapons so that, after I brought the brothers back to life, I could slice them up all over again.

  Stuck in her halfway removed shirt, Lace said, “Umm, Tate?”

  “Oh, shit. Sorry.” Finishing with undressing her from her sweatshirt, I found a very believable excuse for my deadly pause. “Damn, I got so distracted with the best set of boobs in the whole world.”

  She lay there, topless and stunning. “Whole world?” Her confident smile had chills breaking out over my whole body as she added, “You’re forgiven.”

  My dick suddenly pulsed as if to say, Hey, fucker! Get to work! I’m dying down here! causing my eyes to wander down to the juncture only covered by a little defenseless pair of panties, which didn’t stand a chance against my revved body.

  “Tate?”

  “You’re only wearing these.” It wasn’t even fair to the poor cotton that was about to be annihilated.

  That daring girl sounded so fucking sexy as she admitted, “I don’t want to be.”

  So, we are on the same page. Point taken.

  Hornier than I had ever been, I shook as I pulled down her panties to see the glistening core I wanted to devour. Panting, I said, “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

  Secretive lips were calling out to me like a siren—

  “Not even my face?”

  What face? My eyes pulled from one perfection to see something truly exquisite. “What’s between your legs can not be compared to your face. Those hazel eyes are my undoing. I swear it. And your long golden hair? Don’t get me started.”

  When it was long, cascading over phenomenal shoulders, I would just sigh in amazement.

  Her face was artwork, and her body was making me crazed with hunger. I even told her so and pointed to my throbbing erection.

  “Can I?” she asked, holding out her hand, needing permission to touch.

  Jesus. H. Christ.

  I think I precummed and uttered incoherent words before she even touched me. Wh
en she did take a soft hold, I believe I lost consciousness. Or I said something ridiculous like, “Your hand feels so much better than mine.”

  Not my finest moment.

  Her wonderfully pulling on my dick literally melted me. I fell forward, catching myself on my hands. “Please don’t stop, but I need to feel you, too.”

  With hazel eyes going half-mast, she whispered, “Okay.”

  Bracing myself with one hand, my other slowly searched for what I knew would steal all of my senses. When my fingertips found her heat, I almost blacked out completely. “So wet… Why does you being so wet make my mouth water?” I had to see her pussy, my personal heaven. So, I rushed from where I had propped myself up and sat back again, not even caring that her hand let go of my cock. I needed to touch her.

  Gently, I swiped up and down, spreading her juices before finally sinking my finger inside her cave of goodness. Her channel was so sensuous, I had to keep swallowing, craving those juices to be spread all over my tongue.

  Wanting to create even more, my thumb went to work on her clit.

  Instead of telling me to stop, her legs widened farther apart.

  Ah, fuck!

  I quickly added another finger and moved them in and out, relishing the feel of her quivering walls. Breathing so hard, her channel and her words begged me for more. Watching her drench my fingers, I continued to stroke in and out, giving pressure where needed.

  “T-Tate…” she moaned in need.

  Letting myself believe my dick was my fingers, I hovered over her again while mercilessly working her core. I knew this pussy well and gave it what it needed to release.

  I also knew her heart and how much it was connected to that wet channel. That’s why I slammed my lips to hers. Her orgasmic cry vibrated inside my mouth, driving me wild with desire.

  When she was complete, I was as desperate for air as she was. Forehead to forehead, together, we took many needed breaths.

  Pulling my fingers from inside her, I carefully licked them clean and then placed them on the nape of her neck, holding her still, needing her to hear me. “I love you.”

  Adoringly, she nodded. “Be with me.”

  Here it was. The moment I was going to sink inside my wife.