by Crescent,Sam
“I changed you.”
Natasha bit her lip. “Oh. How?”
“I took your clothes off, and then put on your pajamas. I mean, I didn’t put them on. I put them on you.”
She started laughing. “You closed your eyes though, right?”
“Nope. I stared. You look beautiful by the way. I didn’t take advantage. It’s not my style.”
“I would never accuse you of something like that.”
“Good. I’m not a rapist, or an abuser.”
Natasha frowned. They were strange, really extreme choices of words, and she stared at him. They may have been apart all these years, but she also knew Saint’s little tells. The way he wouldn’t look at her, how he became interested in something over her shoulder.
“You went to see Simon, didn’t you?”
“Nigel advised that I go and have a chat with your ex.”
Her stomach tightened, twisted, and she put the coffee down on the counter. “What did he say?”
“He talked shit about what it was like being married to you. How you were, what he did.”
“He didn’t rape me, Saint.”
“Did you want it?”
“No, yes, it’s complicated. We were married, and…”
“It doesn’t matter if you’re married or not. If you don’t want to, then no means fucking no, Nat.”
She tensed up. “Life is sometimes different than what we imagine it would be, isn’t it?”
“You’re going to change the subject.”
“I can’t change what happened.” She shrugged. “If I wanted him to stop, I could have stopped him.”
“You really believe that.”
“It’s what I want to believe.”
Saint held his hands up. “Simon’s going to give you a divorce, and you’re not going to have to worry about him fighting you.”
He stood up and made to leave the kitchen. Natasha rushed toward him, grabbing his arm, and stopping him. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For being the Saint I know.” And love. “For being here with me, for me. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.
“I have a condition for it though,” he said.
“Anything.”
“You can’t leave here. You can look for work, even take a job at Dirty Deeds. They need someone to help pack, and post orders that come in via the internet.”
“I can do that.”
“Make this your home. Live with me.”
“You’re sure?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure.”
“I’d love to.”
He reached out, holding her chin.
She held her breath as he seemed to lean in just a little as if to kiss her. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled back.
“Be ready in an hour. We’ll go then.”
She nodded. “I will be. What is the proper dress for something like this?” she asked. “I left my leathers at home.”
“Speaking of home, I’ve got some of the boys ready to grab your stuff on Monday. You got a problem with that?”
“Nope, none at all. Do you need me there?”
He shook his head. “Wear something that makes you happy, Natasha.”
She watched him walk away, and smiled.
Jeans and one of his shirts it was. She cleaned away the kitchen, smiling so damn much it was making her face hurt. Heading upstairs to the spare room, she took a quick shower, and changed into a pair of jeans, a crop top, and finally one of his checkered shirts with the buttons done up at the middle.
The shirt smelled like him, and reminded her of the many times she’d gone to school in his clothes. Rumors were always flying around about them, and she hadn’t cared what others said. Being with Saint made all the gossip worth it.
A quick memory flashed into her mind.
Natasha was leaning into her locker, grabbing her history books when she felt him behind her.
“There’s a rumor that I’m tapping this ass,” he said.
“We’re fifteen, Saint. Everyone likes to think we’re doing the uglies, but it’s not true.”
He gripped her hips and leaned in close against her, the hard ridge of his dick pressing against her ass. Like so many times before, it made her pause, and sigh.
“We want to,” he said. “Besides, my shirt looks good on you, and the only way for you to get it on, is if we’re both naked.”
She stood up and turned toward him.
“You like the gossip.”
“Damn right I do.” He cupped her cheek, pulling her in close, and slamming his lips down on hers. “It means I’m the only one who’ll ever get to taste this sweetness.”
Pulling out of the memory, she made her way downstairs, finding the front door open. Walking out, she saw Saint doing some repairs to her bike. The moment she approached, he looked up, and she saw a flash of heat as he looked at her. The spark that started between them when they were five had never disappeared. It had only gotten stronger, deeper, more powerful and consuming.
“You ready to go?”
“Yep. Something wrong with the bike?”
“Nothing. I just like to mess with it. Make sure it’s perfect.”
“Have you ever heard, ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’?”
“I heard that, but if something wasn’t made perfect we wouldn’t have flat screens, cell phones, or e-readers. Some things are made to be improved.”
“Okay, smarty pants.”
She stood by the bike as he packed his tools away. Running fingers through her hair, she groaned as he came out with a helmet. “You didn’t think for a second I’d let you ride without one?”
“I trust your ability to ride.”
“And I trust your ability to do as I ask.” He helped put the helmet on her head, and smiled. “You look so adorable, cute.”
She glared at him. “Just what everyone wants to hear. Cute and adorable.”
“I didn’t say they were the only things I thought of when I saw you.”
“What else then?”
“Sexy, desirable, fuckable. Do you want me to go on?”
“Nah, I’ve got it.” Heat filled her entire body.
She wanted Saint, and her body was letting her know that the time away from each other, hadn’t changed a thing.
Saint climbed onto the bike and told her to do the same. Holding onto Saint and straddling the machine, she cursed the helmet she wore. There was a time when Saint would have lived dangerously, and no helmet would have been necessary.
The ride to the clubhouse was uneventful, and the helmet was too stuffy, and it made her nose itch. She couldn’t let him go, so by the time he parked up, and she had the helmet, she was scratching her nose.
Saint chuckled, taking the helmet, and placing it on the back seat. He put his arm across her shoulders, and pointed at the clubhouse. “This is my kingdom.”
She saw a difference immediately.
The clubhouse she knew before was not what stood before her. There were no broken windows, or graffiti on the walls. The last time she had been here the stench of piss, damp, and sex had hung heavy in the air. The women had been naked, and the men in some form of collapse or drugged-drunk enhanced stupor.
“Wow,” she said. “This is what you’ve done?”
“I replaced all of the windows with new ones, took out the stink, and didn’t let it back in. Once Dad was out of the picture, I was able to do what needed to be done.”
She saw several women walk out of the clubhouse carrying bowls. They were scantily clad, but they didn’t stick out, nor did they look ill.
“I got rid of the drugs in the club as well. When Mom took Elena, Dad just spiraled out of control, and the club became something worse, something mean.”
“I remember,” she said.
Elena came toward them with a large man, scary looking, like a murderer at her side. She carried a baby, and he held a
squirming girl.
“Nat, I’d like you to meet my charming niece, Bluebell.”
The little girl waved at her.
“This here is Charlie, and of course the asshole that stole my sister, Pipe.”
“So, you’re the Nat that everyone is talking about?” he asked.
“It would certainly seem that way. I’ve heard a lot about you. Hell’s Wolves Prez, right?”
“Yep.”
“I have to say it’s a little crazy. Two rival clubs that are now joined through family.”
“It doesn’t stop us from having some trouble.”
“I bet.” Natasha wasn’t stupid. She knew about the club. Saint had confided in her the way the club was run years ago, before she left. He’d also told her about some of the deals he had going with Pipe the other day, letting her know more of his life.
“I’m going to meet her to a couple of the others,” Saint said.
He gripped the back of her neck, and rather than be annoyed at his control, she loved it. The way his fingers stroked and caressed, it made her aroused. She loved his touch, and didn’t want it to end.
He took her around to where a barbeque was set up. Vanilla she recognized, and a few others. Still, Saint pointed them out, and she gave them a wave. Shannon was sitting on Willy’s knee, and several other women were around, chatting. She noticed the old ladies were together.
“There’s Fly, Shorty, Buzz, Bean, Zeus. Wayne is a newbie, and he’s not long been with us. There, right at the back looking like a mad scientist is Ethan. Road and Flat are also there. A couple of the boys aren’t here, but you’ll meet them as time goes on.”
“What about the other men?” she asked.
“They’re mine,” Pipe said. “Shawl, Egg, Knife, Butt, Pocket, Joe, and Danny. They’re the ones that could make it today. Everyone, this is Natasha.”
She held her hand up. “Hi.”
“So, Natasha, you alone? Need some company?” Egg asked.
“Back off, asshole,” Saint said.
“She belong to you?”
“She’s mine,” Saint said.
Natasha didn’t say anything.
Egg held his hands up and stepped back. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” She chuckled as he walked away. Glancing up at Saint, she licked her lips. “If I belong to you, does that make me your old lady?”
Everything faded into nothing as Saint stared right back at her.
“What do you think it means?” he asked.
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
He cupped her cheek and leaned down. “It means you’re mine, and no one else is ever going to have a taste of you.”
Saint pulled away, and she didn’t fight him as he pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’ll be right back. I’ve got to deal with some club business.”
She kissed him this time. “Hurry back.”
****
Saint motioned for Ethan to follow him, along with Pipe. The business of the drugs that was killing people still needed to be dealt with. Entering his office, he closed the door once everyone was inside.
“You asked me to find what was in the drugs, and besides the usual crap, there was in fact rat poison. I’ve traced it to a supplier known as Big Ricky,” Ethan said.
“He’s got connections to the mafia, and his MO is sending out a supply of this shit, and the enemy snorts it, and boom, revenge is complete,” Knife said.
“Questions is, why is it in Sinners’ Corner?” Saint asked.
Pipe shrugged. “Only way to find out is to meet with the big guy. I can arrange it.”
“Without bloodshed?”
“Big Ricky is a good guy. He does the job he’s paid to do. We don’t have any problem with the mafia, so I don’t see why there should be bloodshed.”
“It’s the mafia,” Ethan said. “It’s what they do.”
Pipe rolled his eyes. “Are you feeling a little scared about the big bad boys?” He spoke in a baby voice.
“Shut up, Pipe. Kid’s got a point. Mafia usually means a sticky mess. I don’t want sticky mess.”
“I can arrange a meet. I’ve dealt with him before, and he’s never caused a problem. We stay out of his business, he’ll stay out of ours. It’s an honor amongst us thugs.”
Saint ran a hand down his face. “Let’s hope this is Big Ricky’s job, and a nasty coincidence.”
“If not, the mafia will come knocking. Why do MCs always end up having to deal with mafia shit? Do we have like tats that say ‘come and fuck with us’?” Pipe asked.
“I’m starting to think that’s the case. Anyway, make the call, arrange a meet. In the meantime, I’ll get this to my contact, and maybe he can find something.”
“No, don’t give that to the cop. Big Ricky will see it as an act of war. Nothing happens until we talk to him. It’s a sign of trust.”
Saint handed it over to Pipe. “Then you handle this, and give me a call when you need me.”
He wasn’t about to start a war with anyone, least of all the mafia. He wasn’t afraid. Saint had gotten over any fear that could have ruled his life. His father had made him face everything, and come out fighting.
No, he was a survivor, and the club wasn’t looking for a way to sign their death certificates.
Leaving his office, he made his way outside. He found Natasha sitting with the old ladies, and several of the men, eating a hot dog. For a second he paused, and admired the way her lips looked wrapped around the meat. It didn’t take a lot to imagine her lips around his.
Just that thought alone reminded him that somewhere in the house was a butt plug and a dildo. Had she used them yet? Did she think of him when she did?
Forcing himself to move, he took a seat beside her, stealing the last of her hot dog.
“Hey, I was eating that.”
“I’ll get you another.”
“You could never leave my food alone.”
“So you two have a lot of history?” Zeus asked.
“We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Nat said.
“You were childhood sweethearts?” Butt asked. He was Pipe’s boy.
“Yeah, we were. Shit happened, and now she’s back. Let’s change the topic.” Saint finished the hot dog, and conversation changed. Natasha joined in, and when he reached out, locking their fingers together, she held onto him.
Time passed, and food was cooked, the fun and games drawing everyone in. When music was put on, Saint pulled Natasha onto the dance floor, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think your father would be turning in his grave.”
“Why?”
“Before I left, he was determined to make this place a nightmare. A living embodiment of everything bad. This is not that place. When I came here years ago, all I felt was desperation and fear. This is not that place anymore. You did well, Saint. It makes me regret walking away from you. I was the one that wasn’t strong, whereas you are, and will always be.”
“Don’t regret anything,” he said. “We can’t change what happened. Don’t waste your time thinking bad shit.”
She smiled. “How is it you make me so happy?”
“You relax around me, and you trust me enough to take care of everything else. You could have handled Simon. You’re a strong woman, Nat. He beat you badly, but I know you.”
“Did you see many bruises on him?” she asked.
“No. It doesn’t mean you didn’t bruise him where I couldn’t see. Don’t worry, I took care of his face.”
“Thank you for not killing him.”
“You’re welcome.”
“He’s not worth you getting in trouble for. I may not want him around or breathing, but he’s not worth it.”
“Nat, you’re worth going to prison for, and if I believed for a second it would help, I’d do it.”
She smiled. “See, there you are offering to kill people for me. Not many men wou
ld willingly do that.”
“I’m not your average guy.”
She rested her head against his chest, and he leaned in close. “I know. I knew you were different when we were five years old.”
Glancing around the clubhouse, he saw several of his men watching him. There was no judgment in their eyes. If anything, they looked happy.
For the first time in his life, Saint trusted his men as he closed his eyes, relaxed, and danced with his woman.
Chapter Seven
Simon granted her the divorce without any question. Natasha only had to wait some time for it to go through and then she’d be a free woman. She didn’t have to meet with him to discuss anything. He was totally cut out of her life, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The bruises on her face faded, and the doctor that came to see her gave her a clean bill of health. She didn’t have to go to the hospital to get it either.
Saint also hired her to work at Dirty Deeds with Elena and Sarah. It was fun hanging out with the two women, and she got to learn a lot about sex toys. The ones she had bought were still wrapped in the packaging. Saint wasn’t home all the time, and she didn’t know why she wasn’t using them. Would he know?
Some of the customers at the shop asked her questions. When she couldn’t answer them, and pointed Elena and Sarah at them, the two women advised she become acquainted with some of the toys. They each had an understanding, and Elena suggested she start with the two she’d already bought.
After returning home one evening with a text from Saint letting her know he was going to be late, she went into her bedroom, and took the items out of the bag. Staring at them on the bed, she took a deep breath, and removed the outer packaging.
“So far, so good.”
Touching the silicone dildo, she noticed how firm and textured it felt. It was nowhere near the feel of a real cock, nor did it arouse her like a real one.
Still, it had been a long time since she’d had sex, and being around Saint was making her hornier than any other time in her life.
“Ugh, it should be easy. So easy. So damn easy.”
Removing her clothing, she lay out on the bed, and calmed herself down. Resting her hands on her stomach, she started to caress up to touch her breasts. Pinching her nipples, she cupped her tits, squeezing them together. Closing her eyes, she imagined it was Saint. It was always Saint, and it had never stopped being him.