by Isabel Wroth
“Scuse me.” she lisped. Struggling to get her purse open. Enough so that Gage chuckled and helped her out. She shot him what she was certain was a very sloppy smile, thanking him for his assistance. Ripley closed one eye to read the name on the screen of her phone. Which suggested that maybe it did not in fact take much to get her drunk. Whatever.
She read the name and her mood instantly plummeted. She had to bite into her lip to stem the way it quivered.
It was Saint.
It took her a minute to get over the fact he was actually calling her.
He never did that.
Ever.
It was such a shock, she almost answered it, wondering perhaps if something was really wrong. But if it was, Ever and Athena would be getting calls too.
“Not gonna get that, Lady?” Gage asked, nursing his beer with amusement plain on his face.
“No.” Ripley let it go to voicemail.
Two seconds later, it started vibrating in her hand again. And again two minutes later, which led to her sending a short, terse text informing Saint she was busy.
Ripley turned the phone off completely, shoved it back in her clutch and spun around on her stool a little too forcefully. Enough that she almost careened right off it into Athena. Gage caught her with a hand on her waist and Ripley flicked a lock of fallen hair off her cheek.
“Gage, why do you keep calling me, Lady?”
Amusement made Gage’s pretty brown eyes flash. His hand squeezed her waist gently, Ripley’s leg now pressed against his instead of just her foot.
“Because, no doubt about it, you’re a lady.”
He really did have lovely eyes. The malty brown of her top shelf whiskey. Golden, with just a hint of copper. Sexy eyes. God, Ripley must have been seriously approaching stupid drunk to be comparing a strange man’s eyes to whiskey. Maybe she should start on some water.
Ripley couldn’t help but to ask, “Why do you think that?”
Gage went into flattering detail as to why he thought she was a lady. From the way she walked, to how she sat with such perfect posture on her stool. To the way she stuck her pinky out, even when she was shooting whiskey.
“Makes a man wonder, just how ladylike you are.”
Gage winked at her. His sensual tone clearly stating he was interested in seeing her naked. Ever made a gagging sound behind her, Athena choked on her water, and Ripley considered rolling her eyes.
She took a breath to speak, her intention having been to shoot down any ideas Gage had about getting her naked, only to disappear on her in the morning like a douche. The beast-like growl from behind her made her lungs seize and every hair on her body stand on end.
“Gage, you wanna explain to me why the fuck you have your hands on my woman?”
Ripley turned and goggled to see Saint standing behind her with a furious expression on his face. Eyes hot and pissed as they stroked over her, going hard and mean when they touched on Gage.
“Just havin a drink with the lady, Saint.” Gage answered with a crooked grin. Not taking his hand off her waist.
Ripley was having none of this. As clearly as she was able to, she narrowed her eyes on Saint and said,
“Excuse me. I am most certainly not your woman.”
Athena squeaked behind her. Ever broke into another round of hysterical laughter. In the back of her mind, Ripley was concerned Ever was going to go into premature labor laughing that hard. Saint didn’t think her declaration was very funny. Not at all. He used his impressive size to intimidate her, bending close enough for her to see the flames burning in his eyes, and was not quiet when he answered.
“Funny, because I could have sworn it was you with your mouth on my cock a few days ago. Screamin my name so loud, the neighbors thought you were dyin.”
Ripley barely noticed Gage’s hands falling away from her. Too busy gasping with outrage as she slammed her glass down on the bar and somehow got up on her knees on her barstool to put herself at eyelevel with the unbelievable jerk.
“How dare you announce that to half the bar as though it was public record and everyone’s business!” she screeched, shoving at Saint’s shoulders.
He snarled right back. “Get home from a job early and wanted to see you. Only to get some bullshit text to say you’re busy. Busy hanging out at a bar. It seemed like the best way to remind you who you belong to. Sittin there in that slutty fuckin dress and those fuck-me-like-a-whore shoes with another man’s hands on you.”
Ripley blamed the whiskey for what came out of her mouth next. Definitely not lady-like. She sucked in a huge breath and drilled her finger into Saint’s chest to enunciate her crude words.
“Fuck. You.”
Saint blinked and ran his tongue under his teeth as his lips jumped up in a feral grimace. Sucking in a pissed off little hiss of air as he looked down at her finger.
“I am enjoying my night with a man who does not show up at my door at two in the morning, like there’s a red light hung up on my porch proclaiming business open. One that doesn’t sneak out of my bed as soon as the sun comes up like I’m some dirty secret.
“Thereby making it perfectly clear that I’m not worth anything but a quick roll in the sheets whenever the fuck he feels like it. How dare you sneer down your perfect nose at me! Like I should be ashamed of myself for dressing to make myself feel beautiful instead of cheap and dirty. For not wearing my slutty dress and my whore shoes for you.”
Ripley hated it that her statement ended with a traitorous tear escaping down her cheek. Seeing it, Saint’s jaw clenched. She threw a glance at Ever, who was now not laughing and glaring at Saint.
“I think I’ve had enough of girls night.” Ripley told her. Ripley sucked it up and apologized to Gage for the scene. But he wasn’t looking at her, he was also glaring at Saint.
“Don’t got nothing to be sorry for, Lady. You look beautiful. I’d be happy to take you home.”
Ripley pressed her lips together to keep them from wobbling and made to thank him, to decline his offer to take her home, because for all she knew, he’d expect her to let him on in to her den of inequity to return the favor. Ripley didn’t get the chance, because Saint shoved Gage and got up in his face to snarl at him like a rabid dog,
“You’re not takin her anywhere, mother fucker!”
Gage shoved him, Saint shoved back. Gage’s friends got involved. A few other bikers got involved. Glasses broke. All while Ripley was trying to get off her barstool without falling. Somehow she managed and Ever was right there to take her hand, Athena flanking her other side.
No one tried to stop them from leaving, though it was likely they didn’t notice as there seemed to now be a full on brawl going. They got in the car and, before either one of them could say anything, Ripley threw down a preemptive,
“Don’t want to talk about it.”
Ever drove in silence all the way back to her house. Ripley sat in the back, staring out the window, mortified and trying to hold the tears back until she got home and could be alone with the humiliation.
“Call me tomorrow or I will tell Roar everything and hunt you down to hash this out.” Ripley nodded at Ever’s threat. Waving at her and Athena from her door. Once inside, Ripley leaned back against the cool wood and waited until she saw the sweep of headlights move across the window before she broke down into ugly, messy sobs.
Present…
It felt like days had gone by. So engrossed in staring into the fire that time had no real meaning to her. So when a strong pair of arms hugged her up from behind, Ripley about came out of her skin. Shrieking in fright before the familiar scent of warm skin permeated. Before the familiar feel of those arms penetrated through the instant fear.
“What the…Saint! Get out! Let go and get out!” She struggled, but he’d knelt down like a ghost behind her. In the perfect position to sink down and just hold her tight. No room for her to get any leverage whatsoever.
“Ripley.” Just her name, one word and her body disgustingly got e
very bit as hot as the fire in front of her. Her nipples peaked, pussy soaked, pulse raced, and her body craved his touch like an addict despite how her heart was crushed to a pulp in her chest. Her heels scraped on the rug, getting absolutely zero traction.
“Get. Out!” Ripley hissed. Needing him gone before she gave in like the pathetic fool she was and begged him to have her right there on the rug to make her forget how much it hurt.
Saint sighed. Like HE was frustrated with HER. One testy sigh and Ripley went from wavering on sexual submission to seething mad.
Resolutely, she told her ovaries to get real and didn’t even bother to ask Saint how he’d gotten in. He was a private eye, did this kind of shit for a living. Spent tons of time figuring everyone else out, but hadn’t bothered to figure out she wasn’t the kind of woman to hang around just for sex.
“Not letting you go to sleep angry with me, princess,” he murmured in that same, tender tone. Trying to rub a kiss into her temple.
She jerked her head away and struggled not to cry. Ripley knew all too well that as soon as she started to cry, she lost control of the situation. Not that she’d really had control to begin with.
“You are way, way too late if that’s your goal.”
“Ripley.”
She slammed her head back, hoping to catch him in the face hard enough for him to let her go. He shifted so she hit his shoulder instead. In the weirdest, straight up ninja style move, Saint flipped her over onto her back and landed on top of her. His hips over hers, hands pinning hers to the floor, his beautiful, striking blue eyes searching over her face like he was trying to read her mind.
He had a bruise forming on his jaw, a cut at the corner of his lips, and he smelled like someone had thrown a beer bottle or three at him. His black hair fell in frustratingly handsome curls over his forehead, begging to be brushed back so he didn’t look like so gorgeous.
“What happened while I was gone?” he demanded softly. Clamping his thighs on her sides when she struggled to try and get free. Ripley knew she couldn’t, but she wasn’t ready yet to stop trying. “You’re not going anywhere. Quit struggling and tell me what the fuck happened while I was gone. You quit texting me and I had to leave the job early.”
Saint could have slapped her and she’d have been less surprised. Ripley lay there totally trapped, with nowhere to look but at his face, and was amazed.
Amazed that he somehow managed to make this all her fault.
Amazed that he was even admitting to getting her texts in the first place.
Amazed that, with the weight of his brass balls, he didn’t swagger like a…like a…like a fucking elephant.
Surely she had misunderstood. “What?”
“You quit texting me.” he repeated.
“You’re serious. You’re being serious right now?”
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, “Ripley, god damnit, just talk to me.”
Ripley just lay there, too stunned to speak. There were no words as her brain skipped like a vinyl record with a scratch on it. It felt like her lungs were being crushed, the air choked out of her. To her total disgust, his face blurred because her eyes filled with tears.
She hated the way her skin rippled when his thumbs brushed up and down the sides of her wrists. He opened his mouth to say something, and that was it. Just it.
“You have never, not once, replied to a single text I have sent you. Not one.” Ripley forced the words through clenched teeth.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t read them. I need those, Ripley. After digging around in shit all day, seeing your goofy memes on my phone, coming back here to you makes me feel whole again.”
Forget the tears. Forget feeling sorry for herself. Ripley reverted to sarcastic and pissed. “What the hell do you think I am? Some kind of Fuck-O-Meter that you show up and feed a few bullshit lines to, twist my tits till they hit bottom and my legs will fall open for another eight hours of fun time? Screw you! Get off me.”
“Rip-”
“GET OFF OF ME!”
Saint rocked back on his heels, having jolted at the ugly shout that came out of her mouth. His hands fell away while she kicked out from between his legs. Scooted back until there was enough distance between them to make it obvious she was done. On his knees, he stared at her like he’d never seen her before. Like he didn’t understand.
“You come here to feel whole? You leave me behind feeling like I don’t matter at all. Not until it’s convenient to you and I refuse to accept that as how things are. I want more than just sex. I need it. I have more than my body to offer someone, but you’ve made it clear that someone is never going to be you. You’re very familiar with the escape routes, so leave. Now.”
CHAPTER TWO
Ripley woke up wondering if last night’s disaster had been just a terrible nightmare. The texts on her phone from Ever and Athena both, checking in to see if she was okay, confirmed it had indeed been the worst night of her entire life.
Ripley shot both women a quick text to say she was alive, that she wasn’t ready to talk yet and put her phone on airplane mode to avoid any more messages. It was just after noon, her head was throbbing, her eyes felt like someone had poured the contents of a sandbox into them.
The only good thing about today it seemed like, was the fact it was Sunday and she didn’t have to open the spa. But it was grocery day and she knew she wouldn’t be able to make it to the store tomorrow or the next day.
She had to go out and brave the world.
For the first time in months, Ripley didn’t put on a full face of make up. She didn’t care if her bra and panties matched. She didn’t bother to do her hair up special. She just grabbed her most comfortable dress, a random set of heels and got herself together.
Once she got in the car, Ripley felt an overwhelming desire to make sure she didn’t see anyone she knew and wound up driving half an hour to the other side of Austin just to be safe. She thought she had pulled it off until she turned back onto her street and saw the man sitting on a motorcycle in her driveway.
A man who was not Saint.
It wasn’t anyone from Perdition at all.
It was Gage.
Nervously, she thought about texting Ever to be on standby to send a rescue. Though that would likely involve Saint, and Ripley just was not ready to see him again. Maybe not for the next ten years or so. But there was no denying she was the tiniest bit afraid. How had Gage found out where she lived? He smiled at her, calm and easy when she cautiously parked and got out of the car.
His first words to her were-
“Don’t freak, I just came by to check on you after last night.” Gage seemed genuine, but the whole world including him now, knew how shitty her judgment was when it came to men.
“How did you know where I live?” Ripley shot back, glad that her voice didn’t waver at all.
“Perdition doesn’t have the corner market on gathering intel. I’d ask you if you’re okay, but I’m kind of thinking that’d be one of those stupid questions men ask when they know better.”
Her damn lips wobbled a little, so she turned away to get her groceries out of the car. Coming up short to see that Gage was now standing up and he’d peeled his sunglasses off to let her see the seemingly honest concern on his actually very handsome face.
“I appreciate that you made the effort, and no, I’m not okay. I’m mortified that the entire bar got to witness what happened last night. I’m doing my very best to forget it ever happened, and I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m done with bikers for the indefinite future.”
Gage put his hands up as though surrendering. “No worries, Lady. Do you need help with those?”
He was offering to carry her groceries in? Like, manners and everything?
“Um.” Ripley wanted to say yes, but she also didn’t want him in her home. She didn’t know him and she was pretty sure she’d overheard something, somewhere, about how the Praetorian MC was pretty much the opposite of Perdition. Legit, bad news. “I don’t
really feel comfortable-“
“To the front porch, Lady. Not trying to be a creeper here, so I won’t come in unless you invite me.” Gage was making it really difficult for her to stay bitchy and cranky.
She made herself smile, say thank you, and accept the help. He gave an All American grin at her nod, hefted the heaviest of the bags, followed her to the front door, and did exactly what he said. Carried the groceries to the porch and waited on the deck while she got them into the kitchen.
Ripley brought out glasses of sweet tea, because even at ten am, it was already balls out hot.
“See? Total Lady. All the way.” Gage told her when she handed him the glass and invited him to sit.
“What?”
Gage wiggled the glass at her with his grin still wide and bright on his face, his eyes dancing with amusement at her. His eyes were just brown this morning. Not honeyed or the color of the whiskey she’d been drinking last night. Which made her guess it had been the really good stuff if she’d seen his brown eyes as anything other than brown.
There seemed to be a sensual appreciation on his face for her attempting to be a good hostess, but guys that looked like college football stars just didn’t do it for her. Assholes who treated her like a sexual commodity were apparently more her type.
“Never in my life, have I met a woman my age who has the kind of old school manners you do. Like it, Lady. Like it a lot.”
Ripley shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what that would mean. If she should read anything into him being here. Assume that Gage was here for something other than just to check on her. Or if she was letting her ongoing lack of a relationship with Saint, taint her view of every other man.
“So look, Saint’s gonna roll up in about five minutes-”
Ripley almost snorted her tea. “You called him?” she asked incredulously.
Gage flat out laughed at her. Pointing up over her head at the -holy shit- wireless video camera hiding up under the shadowy eave above the door. Saint had been watching her? For how long? That…that dick!