by Isabel Wroth
Contents
Copyright © 2017 By Isabel Wroth
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Copyright © 2017 By Isabel Wroth
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real events, people, or places are entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.
This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review.
All quotations used in this book are part of public domain works and/or translated copies existing in public domain. The author acknowledges the trademarked status of products referred to in this book. Trademarks have been used without permission.
This book contains mature content, including graphic sex, language, and violence. Please do not continue reading if you are under the age of 18 or if this type of content is disturbing to you.
*****
To all the people who inspire me,
Thank you for helping me to never run out of ideas!
Also, to preemptively lay some concerns to rest, I love and appreciate nurses and hospital staff.
This story is a work of fiction, and my characters all have their own fictional feelings and opinions about their fellow fictional book characters.
*****
WHAT FOLKS ARE SAYING ABOUT RIPLEY’S SAINT!
5 stars!!! I laughed and cried, got mad and happy! It was a wonderful roller coaster of a story and I will reread it again and again! Great addition to a wonderful family whether you know them as old friends or just are meeting them for the first time, it is well worth your time!
~Denise B.
Ripley's Saint is a tale of redemption and suspense. A fantastic read that will leave you on the edge of your seat begging for the next book!
~Sara P.
I wasn’t sure I was going to enjoy Ripley’s Saint, because it was all too easy to relate to Ripley’s struggles, and imagine myself in her place. I am so glad I stuck it out and read this book to the end! There was intrigue, suspense, confusion about who the villain of the story really was, Saint, or the Ghost haunting Perdition. I loved the smokin hot sex scenes, I continue to be very satisfied by the relationships built between the characters Miss Wroth delivers.
~Wendy M.
CHAPTER ONE
The dress she had worn tonight was on fire and it was all Saint’s fault.
It was Saturday, her first Girls Night Out in months and it had been a total, complete, catastrophic failure.
Ripley sat on the floor in her living room, staring at the flames consuming the dress she would never wear again. Unable to keep herself from reliving the scene she’d made at the bar, over and over in mortifying detail.
“RIPLEY! Open the fucking door!”
She jerked in shock. Not having heard the familiar growl of a motorcycle, or any knocking, or the doorbell. She sure as hell heard Saint’s window rattling roar. Followed by the jarring pounding of his heavy fist on the thick wood.
How much time had passed since Ever had dropped her off?
Did she care?
The answer was no. She didn’t care and not nearly enough time had passed.
“RIPLEY! Open the door or I’ll fucking kick it in!”
A fresh flood of tears spilled down Ripley’s cheeks while she rolled to her hands and knees. She struggled to get up, wobbled on rubbery legs, and staggered to the front door. Her hand shook, but she reached up, took a deep breath, and resolutely turned the deadbolts.
First one, then the other.
She was glad she had installed the kind that didn’t have keyholes on the outside. Knowing Saint, he’d probably be able to pick most locks. He could kick the door all he wanted, though. It was two inches of solid oak in a metal frame.
Oddly enough, she could feel the metallic clunk of the deadbolts all the way through her chest. Locking the door and her heart simultaneously.
Ripley flinched when she heard him slam his fist on the other side.
Saint tried to persuade her to open the door in a gentler fashion, but there was no way he could make up for what he’d said and done tonight. She hardened her heart and went back to sit on the floor in the living room, hugging herself because she was freezing. Even in her favorite velvet jog suit and her fuzzy socks, she was freezing straight to the marrow. Dejectedly, Ripley set her chin on her knees and allowed herself to become mesmerized by the sight of her dress going up in flames. She had taken it off and known almost instantly she was never going to wear it again. There would have been no way for her to put it on and not remember in heartbreaking detail, just how hurt and humiliated she was right now.
Six hours ago….
Girls Night Out! The big GNO!
Finally!
A chance for Ripley to put on her favorite dress, paint her toes Screaming Orgasm red, get her mile high CFMPs out of storage, and do her hair up in some cute victory rolls.
It was that time, she was indeed victorious, yet Ripley was needing the confidence boost the glamazon look would bring her.
Finished product? Smokin hot.
Ripley had been saving this dress for a special occasion. A power outfit for when she was feeling low. Needing to feel like the kind of girl worth more than a hot sexcapade every few weeks, seemed like that kind of occasion.
It was probably the sexiest dress she owned.
A slick black sheath that looked like it had been painted on. The hem that fell just below her knees was edged in innocent pink silk. A matching skinny little pink belt circled her waist. A sweetheart neckline with more pink lie along the swells of her breasts, currently being lifted up by a matching pink satin bodysuit underneath, and a delicate halter ribbon around her neck.
She looked and felt hot. Every curve outlined, and when she turned, the kick slit up the back showed the barest edge of her thigh-high champagne stockings. The pink ruffle that sat at the top of her ass made it impossible to hold back her smile.
The dress was ridiculously feminine, but at the same time managed to be ultra sexy. Her favorite black peep toe Mary Janes with the pencil thin heel did wonders for her legs, and so did the way it made her feel to look that good.
Ripley put on the pink diamond tennis bracelet her mother had given her for her twenty first birthday, flicked the matching pink studs in her ear, spritzed herself with her favorite perfume and was ready just in time for the honk of Ever’s jeep out front. Ripley snagged her clutch, grinning when she saw Ever and Athena both gaping at her from inside the Jeep.
“Hey girls!” Ripley greeted as she hopped in the back. Ever and Athena both twisted around to further gape at her.
Ever’s greeting was a wary, “Who pissed you off now?”
Ripley frowned at her friend in confusion. “What?”
“Don’t play stupid,” Ever challenged, “You’re hot shit all the time, but this is rub-it-in-your-face, hot shit. Did your ex call or something?”
Ripley could only blink in surprise. “My most recent ex was five years ago. So no. I look alright then?”
Athena threw her head back and laug
hed, looking sexed up herself in a pair of slick skinny jeans and a cute top. As Ever was also in jeans, Ripley felt a bit overdressed, but whatever. GNO was literally the perfect excuse to go overboard.
“Ripley, we might have to make a 911 call to the club after you start a riot in the bar.” Ever drawled, making Athena snort.
Ripley rolled her eyes and sat back, “I got my shop open on time, everything done, there are appointments on the books for the next six weeks straight, and I’m feeling some major stress relief! I felt that was cause to celebrate and put a little more effort into it.”
Ever choked on a laugh and nodded, backing out of her driveway to get on the road.
“So…hows things with Saint?” Ever tried for nonchalance, but the laughter in her tone was making her voice squeaky.
Ripley made herself smile. Sold it with every ounce of skill she possessed and leaned forward to check her lipstick in the rear view mirror, as though she didn’t feel like she had a hollow spot in her belly. One that got emptier at the sound of Saint’s name.
“I assume well enough. He was a great help getting things started.”
“Oh good. I’m glad.” Ever squeaked.
“Was? I thought you guys were a thing.” Athena asked, her eyes shining in the darkness when a car passed by them on the road.
“I haven’t heard from him for a while. And no, we’re not a thing.” Ripley’s smile was starting to feel tight around the edges.
Ever and Athena shared a look. A look Ripley forced herself to ignore while she went on and on about all the things she’d gotten delivered to her brand new spa, Escape Reality. How she was setting the place up, how eager she was to start using the new products Athena had made for her on her clients, and her ideas for some new photo shoots.
Ever took them to a bar Ripley had never been to. The reason being, it was a somewhat grungy bar where Ripley, in all her pink wearing glory, totally stuck out like a sore thumb.
A smoky, grungy bar chock-full of?
That’s right.
Bikers.
One foot in the door and Ripley decided she would rather have gone to a hipster bar. Being surrounded by smelly little boys in skinny jeans, with their de-constructed foodstuffs and horrendous man buns, would have been preferable to this. Ten times more preferable than being surrounded by assholes who would look at her and only want sex on tap.
Logically, Ripley knew she was generalizing because she was butt hurt over Saint’s treatment of her. She wasn’t about to bitch to Ever and ask to go somewhere else, lest she had to explain, in detail, why. And besides, bitterness made wrinkles.
Ripley decided to just deal. It was girls night and she had no problem ruling while the boys drooled.
Also, Ever was likely armed and Ripley had no desire to piss off an armed pregnant woman. The three of them walked in and Ripley felt every eye in the bar swing to them. To her really, and stuck while they made their way to an open spot at the end of the bar.
Ripley was already miserable despite the super power of her dress and killer shoes. Already wanting to go home. It probably wasn’t going to be too hard to be a bitch and discourage any of the men from speaking to her. Ripley sat and turned on her stool to face her friends, grouchy as shit to discover both of them looking at her with knowing speculation.
“What?” Ripley snapped. Both of her ladies put their hands up in peace.
“Nothin. So, what’s really going on with you and Saint?” Ever asked bluntly.
Ripley clicked her tongue, “Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” Athena snorted.
Now Ripley scowled and insisted, “Nothing!”
“Bull. Shit. Spill.” Ever’s deadpan look made Ripley wrinkle her nose.
Needing the courage, Ripley threw back her first shot of cheap whiskey and nearly gagged. With a shudder, she turned to ask the bartender for whatever was top shelf, because if she was getting drunk, it wouldn’t be on that swill.
“Nothing. He did a great job at the shop helping me bash down walls and putting the IKEA furniture together. I made him lemon bars like you said because he wouldn’t take my money. We had sex, it was amazing, he Houdini’d, not to be heard from again for a week, and that’s become our habit.
“We go Heels to Jesus, he disappears as soon as I’m asleep, and I don’t hear from him for days to weeks on end. Then its lather, rinse, repeat a month or two later. Which I’m done with, so nothing is going on. Nada. Fun and done.”
Athena and Ever shared another one of those looks and Ripley scowled, tossing back her next drink that was much smoother than the first. Maybe she could plead horrible gastric distress and get out of there.
It became evident after the fourth round of free drinks had been set in front of them, Ripley probably should have asked ahead of time where Ever had chosen to take them. Should have dressed accordingly to better disappear or blend in. No makeup, jeans and a tee would have done the trick.
Ever burst into gales of hysterical laughter when Ripley commented about this aloud and Athena bumped Ripley’s shoulder, dangerously jostling the whiskey in her glass.
“We haven’t had to buy a single drink so far.” Athena hiccuped.
Ripley’s response came out a little slurred, as she was in the process of trying to tie a cherry stem in a knot with her tongue. “I know! It’s so weird, I don’t know any of these people.”
Ever clutched her baby bump and nearly fell off her stool, moving on from hysterical laughter to cackling.
“Seriously?” Athena wheezed incredulously.
“What?” Ripley replied, almost there with the cherry stem.
“You’re totally aware you look like sex on heels, right?” Athena giggled every other word.
Ripley looked down at herself and shrugged. “Yeah?”
“We’re in a biker bar, where ladies like you rarely ever show up, just chillin at the bar like one of the bitches. I’m shocked we’ve not had a stampede of leather clad…ohp, spoke to soon.” Athena buried her snorting, giggling face into her drink, and a deep voice sounded from behind Ripley.
“Never seen you around here before.”
Ripley turned on the stool, having just gotten her cherry stem wrapped just the right way, and nearly choked on it to find a trio of Adonises flanking her.
“This is my first time.” she admitted. Leaning back a little when said trio’s eyes darkened with hunger.
Ever continued to cackle behind her.
The bikers were all about the same height, six two or so, shaggy haired, scruffy-faced, beautifully sculpted facial features, lots of muscles, jeans, black tees, and black leather vests that said, Praetorian MC on the patches over their hearts.
“I’m Chaser.” Ripley smiled at the speaker in amusement, wondering what it was with bikers and weird nicknames.
“Ripley. Interesting name you have, fun story there I bet.”
“You with someone, Ripley?” Chaser asked.
Ever choked on a guffaw, Athena snorted beside her.
Ripley wiggled her fingers at the two twits. “Just us girls tonight. Why?”
“Cause lady, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I’d crawl over broken glass to put your sweet ass on the back of my bike.”
Ripley’s eyebrows shot clear up into her hair. Not even a single flutter of arousal tickled her belly at Chaser’s roughly growled declaration. Maybe she hadn’t been generalizing. Maybe she was just sex on tap to bikers and that was all. How depressing. The alcohol started to make Ripley feel less giggly and more like crying by the second.
One of Chaser’s friends shoved him aside, introducing himself as Sonic.
Sonic promised to keep her flush in ‘bitch heels’ for the rest of her life if she’d marry him. His offer made Ripley wonder if they were drunk. They didn’t seem like it. But hey, he’d offered to buy the cow at least, so there was some improvement.
Still, not even a spark.
Sonic got shoved aside for Gage, and he planted himself righ
t in front of her, his big body radiating heat, her foot flush up against the rock hard column of his thigh while he leaned on the bar and shot her a sexy wink.
“Ignore those two. Any woman who can shoot top shelf whiskey like you, deserves class. Ever, why are you holdin out on us when you got such hot bitches in your posse?”
Ever got it together enough to choke out an answer, a rather insulting one, though the three bikers seemed to take it in stride.
“My hot bitch posse is too hot for your slutty biker asses. I wouldn’t subject them to you on their worst days. Though, Rip, if you’re going to pick one, I hear Gage is the best in bed. Definitely NOT class.”
Gage grinned huge and proud.
Ripley turned around to face her friend, hearing the three men behind her give a little groan for some reason.
“Everly, I’ve no intention of doing anything but getting stupid drunk tonight. I’ll thank you not to put me on the spot like that.”
Ever put her hands up, while Athena lost her mind laughing into the arm she had braced on the bar.
“Stupid drunk, huh? How far into that are you?” Gage asked.
Waving his fingers at the bartender, who hustled to pour Ripley another two fingers. Gage raised his brows at Ever when she put her hand over Athena’s glass.
“Water for the giggly bitch. My man will kill me if I carry both these two to the car later.”
“Don’t worry, we got you.” Chaser said helpfully.
Ripley took her successfully knotted cherry stem from inside her mouth and dropped it in her now empty glass. All three of the bikers watched her perform the task with raptor-like attention. She felt a bit like prey when she cleared her throat and all three of them lasered in on her with double their previous interest.
“Well, Gage, to answer your question, I’m not even buzzed yet. I’m Irish. Liver made of steel. You’ll be broke buying me top shelf whiskey before I get to the stupid drunk phase.”
Gage accepted that as a challenge.
As the alcohol kept coming, Ripley found herself laughing a little hysterically herself. Not too long later, she felt her phone start vibrating in her clutch.