“We dated for a few months. Then we moved in together. Part of me kept thinking something wasn’t right, that I was just riding along the current. There always seemed something off about Brett. There were moments when I didn’t recognize him, especially when he lost his temper.”
“He hurt you.” Saint phrased those words as a sentence.
Olivia went back to rubbing her arms and Saint wondered if she was feeling for now-invisible bruises. Anger simmered inside him like a living storm. No one had any right to hurt his woman. He’d hunt Brett down to the ends of the earth and make him regret ever laying eyes upon what rightfully belonged to him.
Saint pulled her close to him. She tensed at first, but relaxed when he only wrapped her arms around him. Olivia felt so tiny against his big body. A soft bundle of warmth, intoxicating and vulnerable.
“The first time he hit me was after this charity event we went to. It just happened. The next day, he sent me flowers, texts, asking me to forgive him. I don’t know why I did.”
“Did you love him?” Saint didn’t know why her answer to his question was so important to him.
Maybe he did know. He didn’t want anyone else taking what was his to take. All the other women he’d been with before paled in comparison to Olivia. He didn’t just want her body but all of her, including her heart and soul. Saint wanted to own her in every sense of the word. If she agreed to be his, he’d cherish her and protect her for the rest of her life.
Olivia didn’t answer him immediately. She leaned against him and Saint marveled at how perfect her body fit against his. Like the missing puzzle piece he’d been searching for his entire life.
“I thought I did,” she replied. “But I realized I only clung to him so long because there was no one else. I was sick of being lonely.”
“What made you leave Brett?”
Saint knew a little of toxic relationships. He’d seen it firsthand after all. His old man, the previous Prez of the Fallen Saints MC, had never been sweet on his mother. His father had been a manwhore and often got violent when he had one too many bottles. Saint didn’t blame his mother for running out on him and Devil back when they were kids.
“One morning, I woke up to an empty apartment and realized I hated it there. Him. My life. Everything. I didn’t know where I found the courage to leave, but I somehow did.” She took a deep breath. “I knew there was one place he’d never find me. Redemption. I never told him where I came from. I called St. Luke’s, asked if they needed nurses. I packed all my things. I moved back to my dad’s old house.”
Saint didn’t miss how she referred to her old family home as belonging to her father’s. He knew that place had been more like a cage to her, one she’d been eager to leave ten years ago.
“You want my protection,” he stated.
She twisted in his arms. Saint loosened his grip so they could look at each other in the eye.
“I had this silly little plan in my head when I was driving here,” she said.
“Tell me.” God. He could hear this woman talk all night. Saint loved the sound of her voice. Soft and pleasant. Soothing to his soul.
“That I’d somehow track you down and try to seduce you again.” She laughed. “As if I had any hold on a man like you. I was desperate. I knew you’re the only one who could help me. Brett’s wealthy. He has access to resources.”
“You underestimate the power you have over me,” Saint told her bluntly. When he slid two fingers under her chin, she didn’t bat him away this time. “I ain’t going to lie to you, Olivia. I’ve always regretted letting you go.”
“I’m no one,” she whispered. “But I’m no fool. Don’t jerk my chain, Saint. I’m just another woman to you. Pussy.”
He narrowed his eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong, baby. You’re all I can think about. I’ve been hung over you for years, but waiting has paid off. You’re here now and you need me.”
“I need you,” she admitted. “But there can’t be anything between us. We don’t want the same things. Even if I’m ready to date again, I want a relationship. A man. A home. Kids. I know your kind, Saint. You’ll never settle down.”
Saint stole a kiss from her again just because he could. Olivia gripped his shoulder. When he thrust his tongue down her throat, she sucked down hard on it. Christ. What a woman, what a fine queen she’d make for him. Too bad she didn’t trust him yet. Why would she? All Saint had ever given her was grief and misery. Everything was about to change. Saint was intent on winning her heart but first, he needed to take care of one little obstacle.
If Brett was smart, he’d avoid showing his face in Redemption, but Saint hoped he would be stupid enough to track Olivia here. That way, Saint could tie him up and wrangle screams from his lips. He’d make Brett regret ever putting his filthy hands on his Olivia.
Saint had to address her earlier statement, so he pulled away, leaving them both panting and wanting more. He slipped one hand under her sweater and gave her left breast a squeeze. She melted like butter under his talented hands. Olivia’s sweet moan only served to harden his cock.
He pulled his fingers away. Under the kiss of the moonlight, her lips were still swollen from his kiss and her pupils were dilated. Damn, but she looked so fuckable. So ripe for the taking, but Saint would wait and bide his time. She wanted proof he could be the man she deserved? Fine.
“I never back away from a challenge,” he told her. “It’s getting late. Let me take you home.”
Chapter Five
Olivia didn’t say anything during the ride back to her father’s old house. She mulled on Saint’s words even as he pulled into the driveway and stopped the Harley. She got off and handed the helmet to him, unsure what to say. It struck her that the steps to the imposing house only lay a few feet away. Once he bid her goodnight, she’d be all alone in that suffocating space. She didn’t want him to leave. Not yet. With that last kiss, Saint made her come alive, aware of her own body, her need for him.
Saint probably had that effect on most women. He probably charmed them using those same words and yet part of her hoped Saint meant them. That they were specially reserved for her and her alone.
“Would you like to come in for some coffee?” she blurted without thinking.
His smile was both sexy and predatory. “I’d love some.”
Olivia led the way inside.
“Never been in a preacher’s house before,” he remarked. “Wow.”
Saint must’ve caught sight of the crucifix.
She laughed, her muscles loosening. “Yeah, I know. I have some interior decorating to do.”
“When are you starting your new job?” he asked, following her to the kitchen.
“Tomorrow. My first shift’s in the morning.”
Olivia scoured the cabinets for some coffee. Damn it. She knew she was forgetting something and mentally reminded herself to make a grocery run tomorrow, after her shift. By some miracle, she found some unexpired coffee. Thank God her dad always kept a small supply in the kitchen. She made a fresh brew and took out two mugs. Since they were a little dusty, she washed them first.
All that while, she was aware Saint watched her intently.
“You said he keeps sending you threatening text messages. I want to see them,” Saint said.
“Oh. Right.” Olivia pulled out her phone, unlocked it using face recognition, and handed it to him.
She served them coffee as Saint browsed Brett’s messages. He deepened his frown.
“This fucker seems obsessed with you,” he said, scrolling through some of the texts again. “Why didn’t you reach out to the police?”
She let out a bitter little laugh. “Brett’s family has deep connections to the police and some politicians. He’s untouchable. I tried making a report to the local station once, but the cop only drove me back to our apartment. Brett was livid.”
A tic formed on Saint’s cheek as he handed her back her phone. “So, he’s one of those entitled pricks as well, huh?”
Saint took a sip of his coffee. Olivia didn’t offer him any cream or sugar. She knew he drank it black.
“Have you decided if you’re staying here permanently?”
A good question.
“This house or Redemption?”
“Both.”
Olivia chewed on her bottom lip. “I don’t know yet. I have a job, a house. I’m luckier than most, but this house—” She faltered.
“Yeah. It doesn’t exactly scream you. I can recommend a good contractor if you plan on giving the place a facelift. It’s a good house.”
Hours ago, Olivia would never believe she would end up in her kitchen with Saint, talking about renovations. Back on Heartbreak Hill, she thought he’d try something. She even silently wished he would do more than kiss and fondle her breast. Images of Saint pushing her to the hard ground rose up in her head. Saint between her legs, breath warm against his thighs. Saint undoing his jeans and freeing the massive erection he sported for her.
Get your mind out of the gutter, girl. So far, Saint had been straight with her. He’d been nothing like what she expected. She shouldn’t be thinking about sex and yet it was hard to do when he was physically standing right next to her.
“I’d like that,” she admitted.
He gave her the name of some renovation company and a phone number. Olivia inputted the details on her phone, but her mind continued to wander. Saint’s phone went off and he excused himself. Olivia watched him leave the kitchen. She could hear him speaking in the living room.
Saint had no other reason to linger here, unless she invited him back to her bed. Her old bedroom where she’d mooned over him during her high school days. Olivia hadn’t even checked if the room was still there. For all she knew, her father had converted it into his private office or repurposed it for something else.
Her phone beeped on the kitchen counter. Another unwelcome message from Brett.
She didn’t need to open it. Olivia didn’t want to give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing she still read his texts, but she could see a preview of the message.
Brett: I’ve hired a PI, little dove. Pretty soon, we’ll be able to lock down your location.
Little dove. How she hated the nickname he gave her.
A shiver went down her spine. Not the good kind when Saint was next to her but the bad one. She lifted the sleeve of her left arm. Olivia saw once again the phantom purpling bruises he’d left there with his belt. Memories of terror enveloped her. Olivia wasn’t a small woman, but when Brett managed to corner in against the bathroom wall, he’d tower over her like some demon incarnate. He made her feel small and insignificant. No better than a trapped rat.
She breathed in and out. Her heart started a rapid rhythm. Olivia flung open the windows in the kitchen, letting some air in. No use. She started to panic. Olivia placed a hand over her chest.
“It’s okay, he’s not here. You’re safe for now.” She repeated those words like a mantra.
Olivia didn’t want to think of herself as weak, but she had to admit the truth. She’d become one of those abused women who let their men drag them around. Asking a notorious MC President for help might not be the first thing someone else in her shoes would do, but she trusted Saint. For some unexplainable reason, Olivia knew he’d never hurt her.
Saint returned. He must’ve seen the expression on her face because he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Brett hired a P.I. It’s only a matter of time before he finds me.” Her voice came out as a croak.
Saint went to her, pulled her into his arms again, and she yielded to him. She shut her eyes and took comfort in the heat of his solid body.
“He’ll never lay another hand on you again,” Saint said with vehemence in his voice.
They stood like that for a while. Olivia imagined they painted a pretty picture. The preacher’s daughter and the President of the Fallen Saints MC. In a perfect world, they were a flawless fit, except reality had to come crashing down sooner or later. Saint didn’t do commitments and she was a fool for entrusting her heart to his keeping.
“I promise.” Saint kissed the side of her neck. Olivia tilted her head to one side, giving him further access. Saint licked at her pulse point, moved his hands up and down her curves, his touch like molten fire.
“Is everything okay?” she finally asked. “Your call?”
“Bonnie’s in town with her husband.” Saint stopped kissing her.
“Bonnie? Your daughter’s married?” She blinked, finding that hard to believe. Bonnie was eight years younger than her. She recalled the image of the smiling eight-year-old girl with the gap-tooth grin quietly doing her homework in the clubhouse kitchen. Olivia had babysat for Bonnie but only for a little while. Once her father found out she was working for Saint, he put an end to that particular part-time job.
Saint grunted. “To one of my men. Hawke.”
That surprised her. Everyone knew Saint was overprotective of his little girl, but she guessed Bonnie was a grown woman now.
“I’d like to see her,” she murmured.
“You might.”
Olivia touched Saint’s hand and gave it a squeeze. She didn’t know why she did that or what possessed her to ask, but she said, “I know it’s too much, but can you stay the night with me?”
She cringed at the neediness in her voice. Saint said nothing for a few moments. His breathing turned harsh. Olivia wasn’t talking about sex and he knew it. Too late to take back her words now. She waited for Saint’s rejection, certain he was a busy man. He had his MC to run, an entire town to protect. Saint didn’t have time to babysit fragile and broken little Olivia.
“Sure,” he finally said, kissing her on the cheek. “I don’t mind watching over you for one night. It would also give me a peace of mind.”
Olivia let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Really? Thank you. It’d only be this once.”
“You can ask me anything and I’ll give it to you if I can.” As if Saint knew his words unsettled her, he then said, “I’m sending one of my guys over tomorrow. Griffin works for an IT security firm. He’ll set up a system around this place.”
“Hold on a second. I can’t afford something like that right now,” she blurted, turning to look at him. Who did Saint think he was, anyway? He couldn’t just make decisions like that for her.
“Money’s not an issue,” Saint said.
“That’s not the point. You’re not my boyfriend or my anything.”
“Olivia,” he said in a patient voice. “I’ll sleep better knowing there’s a security system installed in your home. That way, the cops will be alerted if someone does break into your home. It’ll give you a peace of mind. Trust me.”
Saint had a point there, and she had come to him for help, hadn’t she?
“Okay,” she said. “But in the future—”
“I’ll talk things with you first. Got it.” Saint didn’t sound impatient, only amused. “I think I’ll take a shower. Where’s the bathroom?”
“Upstairs. The first door to your left. There are some spare towels in the cabinets, but I’m not sure when’s the last time they were washed. I really need to make a shopping list.”
“Then it’s a date.” Saint was halfway out the doorway when she called him back.
“Shopping for essentials isn’t a date, Saint,” she said.
“I know. I just want to spend more time with you.”
Long after Saint’s footsteps faded, she stood there, staring at the space he’d occupied. She took a seat at the kitchen counter and sipped her coffee, dazed. What a hell of a day it had been. Saint was taking his sweet time in the bathroom. Maybe she should check on him, see if he needed anything.
Chapter Six
Saint closed his fingers over his fist and stroked himself. He let the water run, let Olivia think he was taking a shower. He needed to take care of his cock first. Saint would’ve pr
eferred to sink his dick inside the pink and slick folds of Olivia’s pussy, but he had to make do with his hand.
He groaned, imagining Olivia kneeling right in front of him, her wet mouth on his cock. Then he’d unload his jizz all over her face, her big tits. He’d mark her the way a territorial animal would. Saint was a bastard for thinking such filthy thoughts, but he couldn’t help himself.
Fuck, but the simple image alone was enough to make him come.
“Olivia, fuck.”
With a groan, he emptied his seed onto the tiled walls.
If the preacher was still alive, he’d have a heart attack if he knew Saint was in his bathroom, masturbating to the erotic image of his beloved daughter. A gasp made him turn. Saint had forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Olivia must’ve knocked, but he was too lost in his fantasy to notice. She stood there, staring, hugging a towel to her chest.
Saint smirked at her. “Want to join me? There’s room for one more in here.”
He thought those words would send her running but they didn’t. To his surprise, Olivia peeled off her sweater, then her pants. She stood in front of him in nothing but her underwear. Her black lace underwear, he noticed. Lust roared inside him as she took off her bra, freeing her heavy breasts and dusk-colored nipples he’d love to put into his mouth. Was this a mirage? A figment of his overactive imagination?
Olivia dropped her panties and his mouth watered. She had a dusting of dark hair between her legs, but he caught sight of the pink temptation of her cunt. He held the shower door open as she joined him.
“I don’t even know what I’m doing,” she said in an endearing and shy voice. “I told myself I can’t let myself get close to you.”
Saint knew she’d start second-guessing her decision soon. He gripped her by the shoulder and backed her toward the wall. Saint lifted her hands above her head, kept them there as he sealed his mouth over hers. The taste of raspberries filled his mouth and he took her plump, juicy lips. He deepened the kiss, spread his fingers over hers, holding her instead of restraining her.
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